The Grind (And Helping Heather Potter) [HP AU, Gamer OC]
By: btb
[NSFW] - The Grind (And Helping Heather Potter) [HP AU, Gamer SI-OC] by btb
Status: complete
Published: 2023-07-22
Updated: 2023-12-09
Words: 293345
Chapters: 48
Original source: https/forum./threads/23198
Exported with the assistance of
The Grind (And Helping Heather Potter) [HP AU, Gamer OC]
Introduction
1: Contact...
2: Physical and Mental
3: Interviews and Re-Introductions
4: Boy-Who-Chaperoned
5: Top Box Pure-Bloods
6: Chaotic Celebrations
7: Fleur/Heather POV Interlude
8: Lewd Beginnings
9: September 1st
9.5: The Betting Pools
10: Professoring
11: Loving Lovegood
11.5: A Loony Revenge
12: A Young Veela's Debt and Quest
13: Heather's Streak Continues
13.5: WWO (PHO-style Interlude)
14: The Combat Grind
15: A Young Veela's Hentai Plot
16: Bookworm's First Power-Munchkin
17: First Task
18: Complications of the Legal Variety
19: Heritage Revealed
20: Black Blood
21: Is Hogwarts Safe? (Rhetorical)
22: Criminal Tomfoolery
23: The Trial Continues
23.5: WWO (Upgrades, People! Upgrades!)
24: A Slight Overstep
24.5: Professor Atlas Black
25: Yule Ball Double Feature
26: Consequences of Yule
27: New Year, New Wizengamot
28: Meet the Greengrasses
29: Black Spring Cleaning
30: Icy Icy Task
30.5: Earning 'O's
31: Ice Queen of Hogwarts
32: Vanquisher of Toads
33: The Hunt for Imposter Moody
34: Imposter Amongus
34.5: Propa' Ganda', Innit?
Love, A Goth Witch
36: Family of Veela
37: The Lovely Delusions of Fleur Delacour
38: Set Up and Spectacle
39: Helping Heather Potter
40: Man-Who-Helped
Epilogue: Vacation (All I Ever Wanted~)
1: Contact...
What happens when a Gamer dies prematurely? Before they can reach the boundless, multiversal power their kind is known for? Before they could ever really get started with the legendary grind?
One might think the effects would be dramatic and have far-reaching consequences for the Gamer's universe. After all, a System of unimaginable power was now without a host. In reality, what happened next was relatively simple.
Systems were not typically emotional beings. There were exceptions, of course, but most knew when to cut their losses and start anew. One investment had failed but the loss was negligible for a being as vast as a Gamer System.
The Gamer System would simply move on. It would gather up every ounce of power wasted on its failed investment - as well as the insignificant personal gains of that failed investment - and move on.
It was merely routine for the System to reincorporate the power and reinvest it as it searched the multiverse for another suitable host. It would throw itself into the space between worlds, searching the timeless void for a single, perfect, opportune soul. It was allowed to be picky. Even the System's power was not infinite. Investments had to be carefully considered and optimized for the most profit…
But what if it didn't have to look so far afield to find its next target? What if cosmic lightning struck twice in the same place? What if - by some miracle of impossible luck - the System found its next suitable host in the same universe as its failed investment?
While the situation was utterly improbable, bordering on the impossible, the System was nothing if not adaptable. Perhaps it could just begin a new character instead of finding a new Game to play…
This way, the System did not even have to start over completely or spend startup capital transporting a new host to an appropriate world. The Game-world data could be carried over to this new host without any extra cost. The failure's user data could be expunged and their pathetically minimal progress could be reabsorbed by the System as compensation.
In an instant, risks and benefits were calculated and compared and the System came to a decision. Its target was locked, its path was set, and it changed, configuring itself into the perfect System for its new host. Hmm, a Skill-based System… Good. Skill XP was always much more profitable than raw levels…
Spoiler: Atlas White
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Yes, I am using the same main character design for two stories in a row. I found more reference pictures and I just like this nerdy boi.
I swiped the copy of the Daily Prophet from an empty table in the Leaky Cauldron. It was probably left there by a Wizard much, much richer than me. And considering my current monetary situation, I figured I needed it more than they did.
Broke didn't even begin to describe me. I was an orphan, one of poor blood standing at that. Thankfully, Hogwarts had a stipend that had been enough to put me through school. But now I was out on my own, a fresh Hogwarts graduate with barely a Galleon to my name.
My blood status meant that my future prospects were practically nonexistent. Nowhere respectable wanted to hire a 'Mudblood', even one who graduated with O's in almost all of their classes and five NEWTS - Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, Charms, DADA (thank god for having Professor Lupin for my DADA NEWT year), and Transfiguration.
Homelessness, starvation, and the prospect of dying in anonymity stared me in the face. I couldn't even retreat into the Muggle world because I was a nobody there as well. I figured I had only one real option. Like so many Muggle University graduates before me, I would throw myself back into education to avoid stepping into an inhospitable job market.
Pursuing Masteries in Charms and Transfiguration wouldn't be easy but it was better than starving in a dirty dead end of Knocktern Alley. Plus, I had always felt most content when I was striving toward a clear, meaningful goal. Learning more magic would always be a worthy goal for me.
Of course, it also meant begging the Headmaster for aid almost immediately after I graduated. Not even a week out of Hogwarts and I was already mailing Dumbledore to request assistance with accommodations and teachers while I pursued my Masteries. My plan was to market myself as an assistant professor of sorts and hope Hogwarts needed the additional assistance for the coming school year.
Commissioning an owl to take my letter to Dumbledore had taken my last Sickle so I was all in. There was no turning back. If I was rejected, my only hope for feeding myself was to see if the Goblins needed a new Dragon dung handler…
I had a room for now - a little place next to the Leaky that was rundown as all hell but rented for dirt cheap. My stay would be up by the end of the week though. I could only bide my time and hope that Dumbledore got back to me soon.
The anxiety was already beginning to pile up upon me. My future rested in the claws of a single rented mail owl. As I walked into the room I was temporarily calling home, a meow from the window pulled me out of my brooding.
A smile instantly grew on my face, "I'm back, Shadow. What do you think? Do I have a chance?"
Shadow was my familiar, a black cat named for her propensity to constantly follow me around like, well, a shadow. She practically adopted me when I was first introduced to the Wizarding World at 13. She'd been a great companion, one of the only beings I could call a true friend.
She lay on the windowsill, content with the warmth of the sun on her black fur. Frighteningly intelligent eyes looked at me with languid confidence as if to say there was no doubt in her mind I'd be accepted.
I chuckled, "Yeah, I guess there's no use worrying about it now."
I pulled one of the rickety wooden chairs up to the window to sit beside her. The copy of the Prophet unfurled in one hand as my other went to stroke her fur. She gave me a judging look when at the sight of the newspaper.
"I know, I know, it's utter dreck. But beggars can't be choosers. And it's not like they have any real competition in Britain…" I said.
Shadow sniffed imperiously and went back to looking out the window at the hustle and bustle of Diagon Alley. I turned back down to the Prophet. The front page story was exactly as I expected it to be. It was the same story they'd been running for the past week. To be fair, though, this was the story of the decade, on par with the Girl-Who-Lived defeating Voldemort.
In the Wizarding photo across the front page, a body was sprawled out on the steps of Gringotts, surrounded by numerous snarling Goblin guards. The Wizarding World had been brought to the brink of Goblin Rebellion again… By one person, this time…
According to the Prophet, the story went something like this… A young man, not even out of Hogwarts' age range yet, with seemingly no background stormed into Gringotts. To a crowd of witnesses, Wizard and Goblin alike, he declared himself heir to Merlin and the Founders.
Confusion naturally followed his declaration and the Prophet's details became muddled. By the time anyone caught up to the flow of events, fighting had broken out between the Goblins and the unknown young man. Surprisingly, the guy actually held his own for a little while, calling upon some higher power to fight off close to half a dozen Goblins before he was skewered by Goblin-forged steel.
It later came out that this wasn't the guy's first time at Gringotts. Despite his seeming black hole of a background, he'd already made himself known to the Goblins. After the story went live, people reported seeing him in Gringotts before, ranting nonsense about 'XP' and declaring himself heir to one family or another. He'd even tried to forge several marriage contracts, one with the Girl-Who-Lived herself. His attempt at getting into the oldest vaults in Gringotts was just the final straw.
"They're probably gonna find a way to blame this on 'Mudbloods'…" I mumbled to myself, reading a bit further. "Yup, there it is."
"I ask you, noble Wizards and Witches," Rita Skeeter wrote. "Is this how our society dies? Thrown into chaos by the ill-bred spawn of Muggles? They spit in the face of our customs, refuse to integrate, steal jobs from good Pure-Bloods, and now bring us to the brink of war with the Goblins? Do they learn nothing at Hogwarts? Should we even continue to allow them the opportunity? This reporter is simply asking the questions we all want answers to…"
"As if any Muggle-born is stealing jobs from a Pure-Blood," I scoffed, Skeeter's writing hitting a bit close to home for my current situation.
"Whatever, just focus on your future studies, Atlas," I told myself.
It wouldn't do to dwell on the parts of society I couldn't change. I'd just keep on working, doing as I always did when the Wizarding World was ignorant, backward, and prejudiced. Which was always… I'd get my Masteries in Charms and Transfiguration and then maybe Defense as well. Maybe by then, a position at Hogwarts will have opened up and I could naturally transition into a full-time teaching role.
Contact… System Booting… Connection Established…
Welcome to Your Gamer System, User Atlas White!
New Quest Unlocked: Earn Your Masteries!
Condition(s): Pass Your TOADS Mastery Exams Within Three (3) Years
Rewards: Creation of Your Personal Grimoire, Five (5) Levels Each in Five Disciplines of Your Choice, Ascen$!Ø!
"What the bloody hell…?" I muttered to myself, struck silent by the text that was somehow appearing in my mind and floating before my eyes.
There was no response. Of course, there wasn't. I must've gone around the bend. Stress from my current situation most likely.
Still… for a reason I couldn't quite place, the text reminded me of something. Of the video games - RPGs specifically - some of the other kids and I used to play in the orphanage. Or even that one DnD session I played before Hogwarts and the Wizarding World consumed my life…
"Menu…? Status…? Stats…?" I whispered, feeling like the craziest person in the world for even considering this.
User: Atlas White
Title: Pure-Blood Wizard, The Gamer?
Stats
Body: 9/100
Mind: 24/100
Soul: 18/100
I was stunned almost speechless as the text appeared again, "Wha…? Uh… Help…?"
Hello, User Atlas. This is Your System. Based Upon Other Gamer Systems and Configured Solely for You, This is Your Ticket to Ultimate Knowledge and Power
Your System is Divided Into Three (3) Sections That Work Alone and Together to Elevate You and Give Access to Feedback on Your Progress. These Sections are Stats, Skills, and Quests. Perks, Titles, and Items Give Additional Modifiers to These Three (3) Sections
Vocalize Your Choice to Proceed With Help…
"Uh… Stats…?" At this point, I was just rolling with the impossible.
Stats are Your Capabilities Translated Into a Purely Numerical Form. Body Relates to the Physical Aspects of Existence Such as Strength and Movement. Mind Relates to Mental Aspects Such as Reaction Speed and Memory. Soul Relates to the Esoteric Aspects Such as Magical Potential and Power. Stats are not Simply Distinct and Separate. Users are Encouraged to Explore how They Interact With Each Other and the World!
That was… a lot… Hell, this whole thing was a lot to process. Sure, I'd played video games and other RPGs so it was distantly familiar to me. But how was this even happening? I'd never heard of anything like this. Did my magic glitch and decide I needed an extra helping hand in the form of a user interface I was vaguely familiar with? Could magic even do this at all?
I felt like I was in a daze, "Skills…?"
Skills are Your Proficiencies, Abilities, and Knowledge Distilled Into a Simple and Easy to Digest Package. With Your System, Your Knowledge Will Never Degrade, Your Progress is Readily Apparent, Your Abilities Will Become Natural to Use, and Your Growth is Theoretically Limitless
Skills Grow on a Pseudo-Exponential XP Scale and the Effectiveness of the Skill Scales Similarly. Though They May Appear Capped, All Limits are Surpassable With the Help of Your System
Skills are Divided Into Four (4) Major Skills as Decided by the Current Game-World: Combat, Magic, Social, and Creation. Each Major Skill has a Tier Associated With it as a General Level Assessment
These Major Skills are Then Further Divided Into Countless Disciplines. These Disciplines are the Focus of the System. Each is Freely Trainable and Each Increase in Discipline Level Contributes to the Tier of the Major Skill Associated With That Discipline
Would the User Like to Access Their Skills?
At this point, the shock had basically faded. Or maybe I'd just become numb to it. The text wasn't going away and with each passing second, this 'System' was becoming more and more real in my mind. I couldn't deny that something was happening here. The 'System' was remarkably coherent and structured for a hallucination. So much so that I was confident it wasn't one. But whether the text was due to my own magic or something else entirely… I could only guess.
I cleared my throat, "A-Ahem… Yes."
Skills
Combat Skill (T2): Attack 13/100, Defense 21/100, Agility 10/100, Evasion 16/100, Tactics 19/100, Accuracy 15/100, Focus 20/100, Awareness 13/100, Dueling 18/100, Melee 2/100
Magic Skill (T4): Wanded Magic 50/100, Magic Theory 55/100, Charms 48/100, Transfiguration 49/100, Herbology 39/100, DADA 45/100, Runes 45/100, Arithmancy 46/100, Astronomy 38/100, Divination 1/100, Occlumency 20/100, Transportation 35/100
Social Skill (T1): Speech 13/100, Persuasion 9/100, Perception 6/100, Seduction 23/100, Teaching 28/100, Negotiation 8/100, Notoriety 2/100, Influence 1/100, Willpower 30/100, Luck 30/100
Creation Skill (T2): Enchanting 29/100, Potions 35/100, Wards 15/100, Crafting 3/100, Conjuration 38/100
"How the hell do you train Luck?" I muttered to myself. "Whatever, I'll come back to this. Quests?"
Quests Exist to Provide a Sense of Direction and to Push Users Onto the Right Path. Each Quest has at Least One (1) Condition That Must Be Fulfilled. The User Will Be Rewarded Upon Completion. Quests are the Only Way the User May Receive Bonus-Granting Effects Such as Perks, Titles, and Certain Items. Some Quests Can Even Unlock New and Exciting Disciplines!
"Right, simple enough…"
I asked the System to show me my whole status page and the text complied. A good while was spent familiarizing myself with the UI and looking over my stats and skills. My stats weren't very impressive to look at.
I didn't have a baseline to go off of but my highest stat was only 24/100, whatever that plus meant. That couldn't be exceptional, right? I wasn't even a quarter of the way to the potential stat cap… I didn't know where to even start deciphering that my soul could be quantified so I didn't even try.
But 9/100 for Body?! I was 20 for God's sake! A grown-ass man! Couldn't it at least be in the double digits?! Sure, I didn't really work out at all… And I was a nerdy twig of a bookworm who spent most of his days studying and practicing magic… And Wizards as a whole didn't really subscribe to the 'Healthy body, healthy mind' philosophy… Okay, maybe 9/100 made sense…
Then there were my Skills… I couldn't dispute any part of the System's assessment. My Combat Skill being only Tier 2 made sense. I'd never been in a real fight after all, only mock duels where my life was never on the line.
My Social Skill was in a similar situation. I'd never been the most sociable of Wizards, content more with my books and spells than other people. The only time that changed was when I picked up tutoring in my sixth year at Hogwarts to make a little money. Though… I didn't have a clue why my Seduction was so high…
Tier 2 Creation didn't get any reaction out of me, good or bad. I'd never really focused on any of the Disciplines in that Skill so I would have only trained them by accident when working on other stuff. Even Potions was a Discipline/class I'd dropped after my OWLs.
The absolute cream of the crop of my entire status page was undoubtedly my Magic Skill. It was my highest Tier Skill and the Disciplines within it were miles ahead of all the others. Especially if what the System said about 'Pseudo-Exponential' scaling was true.
There it was… The summation of my whole life's effort, both before and (mostly) after my introduction to magic and the Wizarding World. It was all laid bare before my eyes with blunt numbers telling me how good and bad I was at everything. It was unsettling. It was invigorating. And most of all, it lit a strange fire in my gut to see those numbers go higher…
Yet even as my eyes roamed up and down the floating ethereal status page, my gaze kept returning to one line at the top, "Since when was I a Pure-Blood?"
New Quest Unlocked: Heritage & Legacy Condition(s): Discover Your Heritage. Find Out Who Birthed You and Why They Left You in an Orphanage! P.S. They're Both Still Alive, Though One is a Bit (Completely) Insane…
Rewards: Family Magic Discipline Unlocked
"Oh… Uh, cool, I guess? I don't know if this changes anything for me… Or even where to start looking…" I didn't know if I was talking to myself or the System at this point.
There was no response from the text that represented my new System. That in itself was already a trip and a half. But then again… Magic could do anything, right? Why was a video-game-like interface so strange to me? Perhaps because it was something no self-respecting Pure-Blood would be caught dead with, no matter how helpful it seemed.
My status screen came back with a subvocalized command. Now that the oddity of my title was somewhat… explained, my mind kept coming back to the focus of my new System… The Skills.
Something about seeing my progress displayed this concretely filled me with motivation. A burning fire roared in the back of my mind and all I wanted to do was train and train and train until every number reached its cap and beyond.
Since being introduced to the Wizarding World, I had always been like that when it came to magic. It was a wonderful phenomenon, interesting enough that I could spend days researching a spell or some esoteric piece of lore. But now I could feel that motivation, that obsession spreading to something other than just magic.
I wanted to master combat and creation in all their forms, feeling how I transformed with every Discipline level. I wanted to actually try and be social for once, knowing that even if I floundered and failed, I would eventually succeed so long as I persevered. I wanted to push my magic to the very limits and beyond until I surpassed Dumbledore and Merlin with the help of this strange, new, Game-like blessing I'd received.
The urge to watch my Stats rise and my Skills climb through sheer hard work and determination was undeniable. For once, there would be no prejudice or discrimination to hold me back. All that mattered to the System was my effort.
Just because I'd suddenly discovered I was actually a Pure-Blood didn't mean the effect of more than seven years of bias and bigotry disappeared. Hell, nothing had actually changed with that discovery. I was still a Mudblood in the eyes of the rest of the world. And I still bore the scars that came with that (apparently) false title.
This System, this miracle of magic, was a chance for that to change. There was a certain beauty in the idea that anything could be accomplished if one just worked hard enough. It wasn't an idea I was ever particularly a believer in. There was just too much about the world and one's circumstances that couldn't be overcome through sheer grit.
But it was as if this System was the essence of that idea purified and materialized into reality. It promised growth was always possible if you worked hard enough to make your numbers go up. It promised that it was possible to overcome all limits. It promised knowledge, power, and proficiency so long as one worked for it. And I'll be honest, whether it was real or not, the idea behind the System had already won me over.
New Quest Unlocked and Completed: Grinding Beginnings Condition(s): Recognize and Acknowledge the Pull of the Grind!
Rewards: 9 Perception Levels for Seeing the Beauty of and Accepting the Way of the Grind
Perception 69=15/100
Welcome to the Grinding Gamer System, User Atlas! In This World of [Harry Potter, Let's Strive for Perfection in the Grind
… Honestly, that quest felt like a freebie. Still, as the rewards set in, I was anything but disappointed. The world sharpened. Not just my vision, but the actual way I saw the world changed. Connections formed in my memories of social cues and language I would never have picked up on before. And as it did, something about the System's last message stood out to me.
"Wait, shouldn't that be Heather Potter?"
AN: New story, new me… This is my first attempt at a Gamer story. In the past, I've been hesitant to do one because I was worried about the number of moving parts these stories usually entail (stats and levels changing every chapter, skills and perks and titles to keep track of, etc.) For that reason, I've chosen a relatively simple and low-power world for the first. If this story goes on long enough, we could potentially see other worlds but for now, I'm keeping it to this HP AU.
The AU is something of a fanon world without all of the typical cliches that come with it. Some are as you'd expect from fanon and others are not (For example: Harry is female but Ron's still male and he does get bashed. There isn't really any Dumbledore bashing. Some other fanon character tropes are also a thing. Soul bonds, marriage contracts, expanded magic, etc. are all real.)
As for the System itself, I wanted to do something that's hopefully a bit different. I've always been one to prefer skill-based progression over the typical level-based Gamer systems. I also think it fits the world better this way. I took a bit of inspiration from FanHarem's works/the Quest-based progression from Paradosi's Black Humours but tried to put my own spin on the concept with the Major Skill categories and Disciplines. Ultimately, though, the System is still a work in progress, and criticism/suggestions are welcome.
12.5k words of this story are already written and up on my ( /dryskies_btb) if you're interested in early chapters. I may be publishing chapter 2 of this today as well. I haven't decided yet.
2: Physical and Mental
AN: People seem to be getting a bit caught up on the fact that Atlas is worried about starving at the beginning of the story.
To be fair, it is a bit of a plot hole and does make him look incompetent. But I don't think that's a bad thing. In fact, I think it's a necessary one that pushes the story forward.
I didn't want to get too bogged down in minutia like what Atlas could do to survive because it's not really the point of the story. Instead, I focused on what Atlas actually ended up doing, which actually progresses the plot in a way that doesn't remove Atlas from the Wizarding World.
Also, as another commenter put it, Atlas is book-smart, not street-smart. Mostly because the past seven years of his life have been consumed with studying and performing magic in classroom conditions. At the start of the story, Atlas is very much an academic dropped into the real world without a guaranteed safety net.
Does he have the potential skills to survive? Yeah, probably, but he doesn't necessarily know how to apply those skills. Still, I'll try to better clarify that point in the story itself, probably in a future chapter.
"You want me to do what?!" I asked the System with sheer disbelief in my voice.
Message Repeat New Daily Quest Unlocked: The Body Grind of the World's Strongest Hero
Condition(s): Do 100 Push-Ups, 100 Sit-Ups, 100 Squats, and Run 10 Kilometers in One Day
Rewards: The Potential for Saitama-Level Gains… (In All Seriousness, 1 to Body for Each Completion)
"You know I'm a Wizard, right? We're not exactly known for our physical prowess. I'm not even sure I can do 50 push-ups, let alone 100! And who the hell is Saitama?!"
The was no response. The System was cold and indifferent to my protests against the physical Grind. Give me a magical or even social Skill and I'd jump to it. But physical exercise? This was going to be difficult.
Still, I wasn't going to abandon the Grind before I even started. I didn't have anything better to do while I waited for Dumbledore to respond to my letter. With a sigh and a wave of my wand, I transfigured a spare set of robes into exercise clothes and changed into them. Then a strange text box intruded into my vision.
Observe Atlas White's Wand: 12 Inches of Black Walnut Wood With a Hebridean Black Dragon Heartstring Core, Surprisingly Rigid, 2 to Soul and 5 to Wanded Magic for its Chosen Wielder
"Huh… neat," I said, instinctively twirling my wand, my most faithful tool when it came to magic, in my hand.
I'd always felt like my wand was an extension of my body. It was one of the main reasons I was so drawn to intensely studying magic. Using my wand just felt so natural that I couldn't resist casting as many spells as I could get my hands on. My wand might as well have been a third lung with how I used it as easily as breathing.
A sudden possibility breached my mind as I prepared to begin the daily quest. Before, I would have thought it an impossibility and dismissed it as so far beyond my level that it wasn't even funny. But now with the System on my side, was it really so farfetched? Could I learn to use Wandless Magic?
The thought stayed in my mind as I pushed my body into motion. It served as a perfect distraction from the way my arms started to shake with only 20 push-ups. I pushed through the pain even as I started to pant.
Skillful Wandless Magic was the mark of legends. It was widely accepted as possible to learn. Dumbledore and even Wizards below his skill level had demonstrated it with varying proficiencies. But by no means did that make it easy. Wizards and Witches - at least in Britain - were just too used to channeling and focusing magic through their wands and most didn't possess the willpower, focus, or creativity to truly discard that crutch.
I wasn't much better than the masses in that regard. Perhaps worse because I relied on my wand so much that it was more of a prosthetic limb than a mere crutch. But children readily and commonly exhibited Wandless Magic… Probably because they had no preconceptions about how magic could or should be used. For what was accidental magic if not unintentional, unfocused, and unpredictable bursts of wandless power?
By the time I finished the required push-ups, sit-ups, and squats, determination had settled in my heart. Mastering Wandless Magic would be my first major goal for the Grind. I had the will and I could only hope the System would provide me a way.
New Quest Unlocked: Look, Ma, No Hands!
Condition(s): Raise Your Magic Theory Discipline by Five (5) Levels, Bring Your Magical Core Into Balance?
Rewards: Wandless Magic Discipline Unlocked and 10 Levels
And there it was. I nodded. I think I was beginning to understand how this System worked. Well… not completely. So far, it had given me quests based on desire, necessity, and now, determination. What triggered the System wasn't entirely clear yet but it seemed to respond to initiative. The Grind waits for no man, I guess…
I gave Shadow a little scratch on the noggin as I left my rented room to complete the last portion of the daily quest. She dismissed me imperiously with the flick of her ear, as high and mighty as ever. She probably hadn't even noticed the changes that had overtaken me within the last hour.
My quest for 10 kilometers took me out of Diagon Alley and into London proper. There weren't a lot of open spaces to run in Diagon Alley and I wasn't about to be caught dead running up and down the alley itself. Although… that might be a good way to train Notoriety…
I didn't want to be running in downtown London so with a twist and a pop, I apparated. I appeared in a secluded alley by Regent's Park and set off. By no means was I used to running long distances, but trekking up and down the stairs at Hogwarts had made it so I wasn't completely hopeless.
The slow, jogging pace I set gave me plenty of time to think and try to figure out what the System meant by 'bring my magical core into balance'. My best guess was Occlumency. It had aspects of meditation to it and that seemed important to my stumped brain for some reason.
Occlumency wasn't my best Discipline, mostly due to a lack of material to go off of. The Hogwarts library had basically nothing on the subject - only passing mentions of the mind art's existence. I had to mail order a book to even get started.
I'd sorted my memories, forming a mindscape that looked like the video/rec room back at the orphanage, but my progress toward the next step - forming mental shields - was lackluster. I suspected my bottleneck was due to being self-taught and only using a single source of information at that. But with the increased recall and mental speed from sorting my memories, I never felt the need to go any farther with the Discipline until now.
As I jogged, I tried to work on my Occlumency. Since it was a purely mental Discipline, I figured I might as well multitask. It also gave my mind something to focus on other than the pain in my muscles and the tightness in my lungs.
I sunk into a half-meditative state. My only focus on the physical world was putting one foot in front of the other. The rest of my mind was inside my mindscape, trying to feel around for my magic.
It was just about the vaguest thing I've ever done. Trying to feel my magic, that is. I had no instructions, no teachers, and not a hint of an idea as to what I was supposed to do. I was working purely off of instinct, hoping to rely on the System to see me through no matter how many times I failed.
By the time I finished my 10 kilometers, I'd made only the barest hint of progress. Hell, I wasn't even sure it was progress. I thought I felt something that could be my magic. It was ancient, powerful, and dark, overwhelmingly regal but twisted by generations of inbreeding. Which fit with my mental picture of what a Pure-Blood's magic would feel like.
Yet it also felt so undeniably familiar that I literally couldn't reject the sensation. It didn't last long but the feeling burned itself into my brain. I'd never felt anything like it, never delved that deeply into myself to the point that it felt like I was contacting the very core of my being. And even then, it felt like I had only brushed the surface of my magic.
Then the daily quest ticked off the final requirement and the feeling slipped through my mental fingers like grains of sand. The notification from the System pulled me out of my semi-meditative state and back into the physical world. I was panting, only kept from doubling over by the vague recollection that you were supposed to stay upright after exerting yourself.
With the completion of the quest, the reward set in almost instantly. The ethereal wind cared my fatigue away and suddenly, I'd never felt better. A quick check of my status showed my Body stat at 10/100. It wasn't much but having tangible evidence of my progress gave me one hell of a rush of satisfaction.
Body 91=10/100 Quest Updated: The Body Grind of the World's Strongest Hero
Condition(s): Do 100 Push-Ups, 100 Sit-Ups, 100 Squats, and Run 10 Kilometers
in One Day Once Per Day For One (1) Full Week Rewards: The Potential for Saitama-Level Gains… (In All Seriousness, 1 to Body for Each Completion)
7 to Occlumency for Touching Your Magic
Occlumency 207=27/100
My mind lingered - as ever - on more esoteric things than the slight increase in my Body stat. I'd succeeded. For some brief moment in my mind, I touched my magic. Was that a normal thing for Pure-Bloods? Something so routine that it was just never shared with the less fortunate of us like Occlumency or most of Wizarding culture, to be honest?
Or was it some unspoken secret that the powerful kept from the public consciousness? A rare occurrence even for magical monsters like Dumbledore that I'd just stumbled into thanks to some cosmic miracle? Had I just done the borderline impossible? Something only made possible now that I had the System to catch me every time I failed?
How many times did I fail during a simple hour-long run? I'd been working purely off of instinct, twisting my awareness this way and that in pursuit of fleeting glimpses of my magic, without thought to the consequences. Who knows how many times I did something actually dangerous by accident, saved only by the System's propensity for hard work and determination…
I shook off those thoughts. They were ultimately fruitless, a waste of mental effort on something that didn't happen. Instead, as I apparated back into my rented room with a muffled crack, I turned my focus to the reason I was searching for my magical core in the first place.
According to the System, I had to bring it into balance. Whatever that meant… It didn't feel all that unbalanced to me. Dark, sure. Twisted, even. But I didn't know what the System wanted me to do here.
The darkness had felt natural… Like my magic was supposed to be that way. It wasn't the corruptive darkness that so many books preached about accompanying the Dark Arts. It felt more like the darkness of the night, lit partially by placid moonlight.
The twisted ancestral nature of my magical core was more likely the source of what the System saw as an imbalance. I don't know what I was supposed to do about centuries of inbreeding though…
Quest Updated: Look, Ma, No Hands!
Condition(s): Raise Your Magic Theory Discipline by Five (5) Levels, Bring Your Magical Core Into Balance? Be Able to Easily Access and Control Your Magic Without Your Wand (Better?)
Rewards: Wandless Magic Discipline Unlocked and 10 Levels
I honestly breathed a sigh of relief. Much more manageable… That was still suitably difficult but not seemingly impossible like fixing inbred magic. While achieving Wandless Magic should be a challenge, I still wanted to be able to actually accomplish it.
The Magic Theory levels would take care of themselves. I figured they would come naturally during my daily routine. I already spent an unholy amount of time reading up on and studying magic after all. And if the gap between levels proved to be taking too long, I could always spend even more time focusing on Magic Theory. I'd always been curious as to how rituals worked and researching that should be good XP…
So instead of worrying about that just yet, I sat myself down next to Her Highness Shadow. I made sure to pay the typical head-scratch toll before I started what I was about to do. Then I closed my eyes and tried to capture lightning in a bottle for the second time in as many hours.
Trying to touch my magical core again was slow-going. Several times, I brushed up against it only to lose the sensation between one moment and the next. But I didn't let my repeated failure discourage me. Over and over again, I delved into myself. Over and over again, I tasted success on the tip of my tongue and could only grasp at thin air as it slipped away.
I felt like I was so close to a breakthrough of some kind or another. I was consistently touching my core but then I kept overreaching in my excitement. It was as if my magic was skittishly dancing away from my greedy hands.
After another failure - the sixth in a row - I took a moment to reassess my methods. My awareness sat in the center of my mindscape, wracking my brain for another way. Was I forcing this?
As I thought, a strange, recently familiar sensation washed over me. Like moonlight creeping into a dark room, I felt my magic come to me of its own initiative. I was stunned silent, not even able to do anything even if I wanted to, as my magic swirled around me and my mindscape, infusing everything as if it was only natural this way.
3 to Occlumency for Repeating the Improbable Occlumency 273=30/100
A wave of intensely familiar energy flooded me and I was thrown gently out of my mindscape. Still, the sensation of my core suffusing my whole being didn't fade. Unlike before, my magic seemed content to sit right on the edge of my consciousness, surrounding me and no longer fleeing when I reached for it.
It was as if I was constantly casting a powerful spell. The same feeling - like icy heat but somehow even more paradoxical - that I usually felt through my wand filled my whole body. I could feel my magic dancing along pathways I'd never noticed before. It was as if it was exploring me just as much as I was exploring it.
I waved a hand, marveling at the sparks that appeared in the wake of my movement. It was like I was back at Ollivander's shop for the first time, getting my wand all over again. Actually… I think they were the same sparks… All that was missing was the chaos that came with a 13-year-old trying dozens of wands.
As if on cue, the magic suffusing my whole body fluctuated. Some of it poured outward like a wave, turning the pretty sparks into colorful needles that pierced straight through the window above Shadow's head. Of course, Shadow just blinked and looked at me with reproach, utterly unbothered by the chaos. If anything, she seemed to enjoy the sudden slight breeze coming through the pinprick holes in the glass.
Surprisingly, the window didn't break any further. The little needles of magic also seemed to have disappeared before they could do any more damage. My magic retreated into my body slightly but the sensation of it waiting at the edge of my consciousness to be used didn't go away.
I looked down at my hand with no small amount of shock. What happened set in not long after and I sighed. The window was fixed with a point of my wand and a mumbled 'Reparo'.
"Don't look at me like that, Miss Shadow," I said, admonishing my familiar in return for her bored, reproachful look. "You try learning Wandless Magic from scratch and we'll see how many windows you break."
Shadow, the sassy cat that she was, just meowed.
"You shouldn't be trying to break the windows," I grumbled.
If Shadow had eyebrows she would have raised one at me as if to say "Watch me." Instead, she just gazed at me with eyes full of spite, sloth, and chaos. Her message was still conveyed loud and clear.
"And then you'll come to me to fix your mess like always?"
Shadow gave me the cat equivalent of a condescending nod. Her amber eyes slowly blinked closed and opened again as if to say "Duh".
"You're such a little gremlin."
As always, Shadow didn't seem to mind my light insult. She simply got up from her windowsill perch and stretched languidly like the cat she was. She hopped from the window to my shoulders, forcing me to hunch and show the proper deference to my familiar/feline liege. She rubbed herself against the back of my head before hopping down to the ground and sitting on her haunches, cleaning her paws smugly.
"Yeah, yeah, you've made your point," I said, rolling my eyes. "You're obviously perfect and I should be thankful for being able to clean up your mess."
Shadow purred, content that I knew 'my place' in our relationship. She followed me like her namesake when I went to feed her. With Her Highness appeased with Friskies, I turned my attention to my trunk, rummaging through it for a book to read.
There was a tapping at the recently repaired window while I had my head inside my trunk. I looked over and saw the same owl I'd commissioned to send my letter earlier this morning. My heart instantly jumped into my throat when I saw the reply tied to its leg.
I let the owl in, relieving it of its package and conjuring a small dish of water for it to drink out of. It cooed appreciatively and soon left the same way it came. I barely noticed its departure. I'd slumped into the chair by the window, just looking at the letter that represented my future.
The System didn't magically make it so I was flush with future prospects. I was still relying on someone else's generosity to not end up homeless at the end of the week. If Dumbledore refused my request, I was still shit out of luck. How sad would it be for someone with a miracle System to be relegated to a cardboard box on the street?
The envelope felt so heavy in my hands… My name was written across the front in grandiose, sweeping strokes of ink. I spent more than a minute just staring at it before finally deciding to bite the bullet. I was surprised my hands didn't shake as I opened the envelope and unfolded the letter inside.
"Mr. White," I read aloud in a breathless whisper. "I must thank you for showing the initiative to reach out to me on this subject. So many of your peers do not even consider furthering their education, let alone requesting aid that I am all too happy to give. Why, I cannot remember the last time I received a letter from a fresh graduate such as yourself. Everyone seems to think I am rather unapproachable for some reason…
"Nevertheless, I am more than happy to provide you with lodgings for the duration of your Masteries. As for the assistant professor position, I am tentatively agreeable to the idea. There will have to be an interview but if what I recall about you over your years at Hogwarts is true, I do not see it being an issue.
"With Summer break upon us, there is no immediate hurry to schedule said interview. Of course, if you are in urgent need of a place to stay, I would be amenable to speeding up the process. As such, this letter is enchanted with a portkey that will take you directly to my office at Hogwarts. Simply say the phrase 'Whiskered Whoppers' to activate it.
"I look forward to your reply. Please do not feel as if you must be a stranger. With many of the professors away for the break, it does get ever-so lonely in the castle.
"Albus P. W. B. Dumbledore, Order of Merlin First Class, Chief Warlock, Blah, Blah, Blah, You get the idea…"
I didn't even get the chance to snort with laughter at Dumbledore's eccentric shortening of his titles. Since I was reading aloud, the portkey phrase activated and the room began to spin. I just barely finished reading the entire letter before, with nary a pop, I was gone.
In the sudden silence of my rented room, Shadow looked up from her bowl. She practically rolled her eyes at her Human's silliness before going right back to what was really important… Friskies…
3: Interviews and Re-Introductions
I appeared in a grand office, sitting in front of a desk that wouldn't have been out of place in a museum. Of course, the same could be said about the man sitting behind the desk. Thankfully, the portkey dropped me in a plush chair instead of dumping me onto the floor.
"My, my," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he spoke. "Eager, aren't we, Mr. White? Such an ironic name considering your family. Thankfully one of your father's less harmful pranks. One would have thought your mother would have protested due to pride in their blood and name… but I suppose they were both very different people back then. It's a shame they had to hide you from the rest of their family. If you were born a generation earlier, you would have been lauded with greatness for being born with such… pure… blood…"
"Ah, forgive an old man his rambles, Atlas," Dumbledore smiled genially, hiding a wince at something he'd said. "It is wonderful to see you so soon."
I didn't catch most of that because I was still reeling from the sudden, accidental portkey. I was still blinking the lights of portkey travel out of my eyes and trying to reconcile the change in my surroundings. All I understood was 'forgive an old man his rambles' and everything after that. Whatever Dumbledore had said before was lost on me…
Something else grabbed my attention once the portkey sickness had faded. A text box from the System hung over Dumbledore's head.
Observe
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore
Title: Man of Too Many Names
Combat Skill (T7)
Magic Skill (T8)
Social Skill (T8)
Creation Skill (T8)
Perception Roll Passed! Albus Dumbledore is a Man of Great Power, Wisdom, and Influence. His Past Weighs Heavily on His Mind. He Rather Enjoys Being Eccentric and Ridiculous, Sometimes to the Point of Nonsense. He's Still Waiting for Someone to Eventually Call Him on His Bullshit…
"Uh… sorry for dropping in unannounced?" I tried, at a loss for any other words thanks to my own foolishness and the Observe message from the system.
"No need to apologize, Atlas," Dumbledore easily forgave me. "As I said in my letter, I am willing to make exceptions if your need for housing and security is dire."
"You weren't… busy?" I asked.
"Nothing that couldn't be put off until later," Dumbledore said, demonstrating masterful control of his magic by clearing his desk with a wave of his hand. "I dare say you are saving me from writing even more droll letters in preparation for this summer's Wizengamot session. Truly, the duties of power are a cruel bore… Do be sure to remember that bit of advice for the future, Atlas."
I chuckled sheepishly, "I don't think I'll ever be in a position of power like yours, Sir."
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as an almost knowing smile spread across his face, "You may just be surprised, Atlas… And, please, call me Albus. You are just as much a peer to me as any other adult Wizard now that you've graduated."
"So… not much of a peer at all?" I deadpanned before my mind caught up to my mouth.
As I was cursing my low Social Skills, Dumbledore just chuckled, "I can see how you would see it that way. So many others do… To the point that it gets rather vexing… But I truly don't see it that way. I would prefer if you would consider treating me as you would anyone else. Perhaps as a respected mentor figure at the most… if you must."
I shifted awkwardly in my seat, feeling like the weight of the world was being brought down upon my shoulders by the gaze of the man across from me, "Why are you telling me this, Si-… Albus…"
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled for the third time - the second that I saw, "Call it something of a hunch. I have a feeling that we will work together on a higher playing field soon enough… And it would be ever-so refreshing to have someone there who does not worship or fear the ground I walk upon. Even my closest friends treat me with a certain reverence that while appreciated, does weigh so heavily when it is constant. Perhaps I am just now confronting that problem directly, hmm?"
"Sir-… Albus. I'm just a Mud-… Muggle-born. I'd have to do something truly extraordinary to be accepted into the same circles as you…" I wasn't. According to the System at least. But there was no way Dumbledore could have known that… right?
Dumbledore still smiled that knowing smile, "Then I suppose I should watch the Prophet closely for news of your extraordinary achievement, yes?"
I decided silence was a virtue in this situation. I didn't want to spit in the face of Dumbledore's unexpected, and frankly baffling, faith in me. But I also didn't expect I'd be living up to that faith anytime soon. Or making my way into the Wizengamot as Dumbledore had hinted. I mean, what were the odds either of my unknown, absent Pure-Blood parents had a familial seat that they were willing to pass down to me, the son they seemingly abandoned?
"Ah, I seem to have gone off on a tangent," Dumbledore said as if just realizing it. "My apologies, Atlas. Shall we move onto the matter you came here so eagerly for?"
"Gladly," I nodded, not catching the friendly jab sent my way.
"Excellent. Now, as per my reply, I am more than happy to house and accommodate you for the duration of your Masteries. I feel it is my duty to help those who are willing to pursue education. The only part in question is your employment as an assistant professor here at Hogwarts," Dumbledore spieled.
"Tell me, Atlas, do you have any experience with teaching?" Dumbledore asked.
I took a breath to fortify myself, trying to settle my nerves into something productive, "I do. I took up tutoring during my sixth year and I think I was successful…? I mean, I received plenty of glowing reviews about my knowledge and my teaching skills. My other social skills… well, I heard what few rumors there were about me."
Dumbledore hummed, "Hmm, I wouldn't pay those any mind. You seem like a fine young man to me. Most agreeable to speak with and not nearly as intimidated by me as most your age."
Despite myself, I found I was suppressing a bit of a blush, "It's not what the rumors said… Albus… It's more about the lack of them altogether…"
"Ah…" Dumbledore nodded sagely. "Yes, I can see how that would have an impact on the impressionable insecurity of youth. May I let you in on a secret, Atlas?"
"Yes, Si-… Albus," I still found myself getting caught up with being on a first-name basis with my former Headmaster.
Dumbledore smiled conspiratorially, "I was not the most popular boy in school either. I did not truly blossom and come into my own until after I had graduated. I would not worry too much on that front. We all walk unique paths through life. There is nothing wrong with that."
"I-… Thank you, Albus. I'll try to take that advice to heart…"
Dumbledore's words struck surprisingly deep. Especially since I'd just had a new 'path' unlocked for me by the System. And having Albus Dumbledore himself share something about his childhood with me was… well, it was a heady feeling. He looked so happy to be able to share something so simple and for a moment, I thought I saw just how much extraordinary power and fame had isolated the man from everyone else.
Even after the moment passed, Dumbledore's smile kept the simple joy of sharing a piece of his life with me, "Very good. Now, how would you describe your temperament? In your own words, if you please…"
That was a tougher question and I gave it the appropriate amount of thought before speaking, "… Calm. Like a clear night under the moonlight. Hardworking… Focused and determined. And perhaps I also bear some darker tendencies that I haven't explored yet? A possessiveness for what I see as mine. A vindictiveness for if-… when I am wronged. Quite a bit of pent-up frustration with how the Wizarding World operates. But then again, the night is naturally darker than the day…"
I stopped myself, sheepishly realizing I got kind of carried away with my introspection, "Ah, that was a bit pretentious, wasn't it?"
Dumbledore waved off my awkwardness, "It is fine, Atlas. I asked for your own words after all. Those darker tendencies are a bit concerning but I cannot fault you for feeling that way. Nor for being honest with me about them. And I trust you will find a way to channel them productively?"
A songlike trill from the corner of the room made me jump slightly. Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix, made himself known for the first time during my visit. His song wasn't uncomfortable for me but it wasn't the uplifting feeling I was expecting either. To my magic, it felt more like a soothing balm for the twisted, broken bits and a diametrically opposed ally to the darkness.
Dumbledore blinked in surprise, "Truly, Fawkes?"
Another trilled note answered him.
The twinkle in Dumbledore's eye returned, "Well, you continue to surprise me, Atlas. Fawkes seems to be vouching for you, something he does not do lightly. He sees the darkness in you for what it is. Not a shadow of some personal flaw or corruption but a natural state of being for your magic. We all have our natural leanings but it is what we do that truly defines us… Do not forget that, Atlas."
"Of course, Albus. I'll keep that in mind."
He smiled and pride filled me for a moment. I wasn't a stranger to earning the approval of teachers but something about Dumbledore made that approval so much more potent. Maybe it was the fact that he was who he was, a figure of such Influence and Notoriety that he made the Queen look dull in comparison. Maybe it was because he wanted me to treat him like a normal person and seemed to be extending the same courtesy to me himself. Either way, it was like a drug to my sense of self.
Seemingly ignorant of the rush of pride that filled me, Dumbledore continued with the interview, "What subjects do you feel comfortable teaching here at Hogwarts?"
"I'm willing to assist with many of the subjects I am proficient in. I would prefer to avoid Potions, History of Magic, and Divination," I said with a slight wince. "Not in the least because I do not believe my presence would be appreciated in those classes.
"But classes like Astronomy, Charms, DADA, Transfiguration, Arithmancy, and Ancient Runes would be my first choices. Other than assisting with the professors' duties, I imagined myself as a sort of in-house tutor for Hogwarts. Students could come to me for help without feeling as if they are bothering their busy professors."
"That will be a challenging schedule to keep," Dumbledore cautioned.
I replied with a firm voice, "I can handle it. Besides, my presence will not always be required in every single one of those classes. I am willing to be used as a fill-gap wherever I am needed."
Dumbledore smiled, "I will take that into consideration, Atlas. Why, I think the concept of you being an in-house tutor is a wonderful idea! I'm sure Professor McGonagall will be over the moon that someone is willing to take on a portion of her workload. She's a very busy woman these days and I do find myself worrying for her as a colleague and friend…"
He clapped his hands together lightly, "I think it is safe to say my curiosity is sated. Mr. Atlas White, I would like to offer you a job as Hogwarts' newest Assistant Professor. You will be the first to hold the position in-… My, nearly 15 years now… Time does fly, doesn't it?"
Relief almost settled over my heart but there was one last thing I needed to ask, "Si-… Albus. Would it be amiss for me to ask about my future salary?"
My question received a commiserating nod from Dumbledore, "Ah, yes, an understandable concern, Atlas. If I may ask, is your financial situation truly so pressing?"
"I am, quite literally, broke, Albus," I stated bluntly. "Penniless. My last Sickle was spent sending you my previous letter. If you had not responded to my request as you did, I would have been homeless by the end of the week. The current job market is not kind to Muggle-borns."
To his credit, Dumbledore looked suitably stunned by that news, "I had not realized that the climate of the Wizarding World had deteriorated to such a state. For a graduate of my school to feel as if they have no future prospects… For them to be brought to such dire straits…? Unacceptable."
"To be fair, the blame for my situation falls partially on my shoulders," I admitted, shrugging. "I was not the wisest with the money I earned through tutoring. I simply couldn't resist the siren's call of mail order knowledge… But even if I was frugal with that money, it would have only prolonged the inevitable. No matter my qualifications, finding a job so quickly is practically impossible. The fact is, Albus, that Britain is actively hostile to Muggle-borns."
Dumbledore was visibly incensed by the thought. He knew there was truth and validity to my point of view on the state of Wizarding Britain. It had been nearly 100 years since he'd been in a situation even remotely similar to mine. Even the typically stagnate Wizarding World was bound to change drastically in that time.
His magic filled the room, rolling off him in tightly controlled waves. It formed an aura around him that presented itself as an almost visible halo of power. I was left in awe, not just of the power I felt but also of the control Dumbledore wielded. A beautiful trill from Fawkes calmed the room before I could get more than a taste of Dumbledore's magic.
Dumbledore let out a heavy sigh, "Indulge me if you will, Atlas… What would you have done had I not agreed to your request for aid?"
I gave it some thought, "… I would have been forced to try and return to the Muggle world. Probably to lackluster results. After more than seven years in the Wizarding World, that world is almost just as foreign to me as magic was at first. That, or leave Britain entirely. I'm sure countless other Muggle-borns have been driven to that same choice."
"I fear you are all too correct in that regard, Atlas… It pains me to see Britain driving away its future. Thankfully, I am a man with the power to do something about that." Dumbledore intoned seriously. "But that is for later. For now, we should get back to the matter of your compensation."
"I agree," I said, perhaps too quickly if Dumbledore's chuckles were anything to go off of. "Er, no offense intended, Albus. I would just rather not be in such a desperate place financially…"
"No, no, I completely understand, Atlas," Dumbledore said, waving off my potentially impolite eagerness. "I am willing to compensate you with 100 Galleons a month-…"
Before I could jump on the offer like the desperately broke, recent graduate I was, Dumbledore continued, "Of course, that is only for the duration of the summer break. Once school starts once again and your time is in greater demand, I am willing to raise that number. Perhaps 250-275 Galleons per month?"
I gaped at him, "I-I… Uh, yes…? That's so much more than I was expecting. Where do I sign?"
Dumbledore smiled genially at me, "We'll work out a contract at a later date. For now, I believe you might want to move into your room here in the castle. I'll give you a portkey that will take you back to the Alley and return you here as well."
I tried my best to play it cool while Dumbledore made the portkey out of a knickknack he had lying around. That was much harder than it appeared. I was practically vibrating with excitement on the inside. Not only was my immediate future secured with this position but I would also have access to the Hogwarts library and some of the finest magical minds in Britain. I could already see the Grind opening up before me.
I thanked Dumbledore again, accepted the portkey, and made to leave, only to be momentarily stopped by Dumbledore's parting words, "And, Atlas? Welcome back to Hogwarts. It's as if you hardly left…"
3 Persuasion, 1 Negotiation, 4 Notoriety, and 2 Influence for Closing the Deal Persuasion 93=12/100, Negotiation 81=9/100, Notoriety 24=6/100, Influence 12=3/100
Perk Unlocked: Hogwarts Assistant Professor
1 to Notoriety and Influence Within the Halls of Hogwarts, 30% Bonus to Teaching XP, A Place for Your Broke-Ass to Stay…
The smile never left my face as I went about collecting what little things I had from my rented room. Even the prospect of working with Professor Snape couldn't kill my good mood. In what had to be record time, I was packed and back at Hogwarts. Dumbledore had one of the House Elves show me to my new quarters.
My room was nothing to write home about but at the same time, it was the most beautiful room I'd ever seen. It was mine. It was my salvation and I'd never been happier to see dusty furniture and drab stone walls.
Shadow, having hitched a ride on my shoulder and surprisingly not complaining about the portkey trip, hopped down and went to explore. Still smiling like a madman, I transfigured a catflap into the door of my room. She'd like that. She'd never had free reign of Hogwarts, even when I was still a student here.
I took my trunk out of my pocket and enlarged it again. Then began the process of unpacking and making this room - mine - into something I could feel comfortable living in for an indeterminate amount of time.
Grand sweeps of my wand cleaned the place of dust. A decently large window - tall, not wide - was set into the wall opposite the room's door. I took pleasure in swinging it open to let in fresh air. With another absent wave of my wand, book after book flew out of my trunk to fill one of several bookshelves in the room. My entire collection barely filled one of the massive bookshelves. There was still so much room for more knowledge!
Then the real magic started. The bed against one wall was stripped and remade, as well as transfigured to be less stuffy. I couldn't stand the bed curtains that were so common in Hogwarts. During my fifth year, it got to the point that I found a couple of obscure spells to emulate the curtains' effect of keeping dust out and heat in without the poster bed aesthetic.
On the opposite side of the room, the writer's desk was moved in between two bookshelves. The chair attached to it was transfigured to perfectly fit me. The other chairs in the room were basically discarded outright, the stiff, impractical things they were. In their place, I transfigured a pair of Muggle Lazy Boys. Owning one of those had always been a little dream of mine in the orphanage and magic made all things possible.
By the time I was finished, the room was recognizable but changed drastically. The Lazy Boys and the non-poster bed made the room look much more modern than it really was. And I was still riding the high of everything I'd accomplished today.
A quick Tempus to check the time and an emptiness in my stomach prompted me to go in search of food. I naturally made my way down to the Great Hall, not even thinking about where I was going. My body just followed nearly seven years of muscle memory that hadn't faded yet.
Dumbledore and company were already present when I entered the Hall and Dumbledore stood to seemingly announce my arrival, "There he is, the man of the hour! Everyone, I'd like you to meet Hogwarts' newest Assistant Professor, Atlas White. I'm sure you all remember him. It hasn't even been a week since he graduated after all."
Dumbledore finished his little speech with a chuckle and motioned for me to come to their table. The Great Hall had been emptied of the usual five tables - four for the Houses and one for the staff. Instead, it appeared that the staff table had been moved down into the center of the room, turned, and shrunk to present a more welcoming decor.
Dumbledore sat at the head of the table, opposite the doors of the Great Hall. McGonagall sat on his left, giving me a small, welcoming smile now that I was something of a peer. Snape sat on Dumbledore's right. He didn't even react to my presence other than with a glance.
Professor Flitwick, my former Head of House, looked surprised but absolutely delighted to see me again. I returned the joyful smile he gave me. To be honest, it was good to see him again as well. Professor Sprout was seemingly absent, along with most of the elective teachers. The only other two Professors at the table were Hagrid and Septima Vector. I received a jolly wave and a stern smile from them respectively.
I was directed to sit and ended up seated next to Professor Vector. Other than me, she was the youngest at the table by far. I'd taken her Arithmancy class up until NEWT level and my third year at Hogwarts was the first she started teaching. She'd never mentioned her age, presenting a strict, no-nonsense front to her students, but she couldn't have been more than seven years older than me.
She was also gorgeous. I wasn't blind to that fact. Or the appeal of beautiful women in general. I'd just never found the time or opportunity to explore that side of the Human experience. I was typically interested in… more productive things. For lack of a better word. Like learning a new spell or mastering an old one.
Even now, I only noticed Professor Vector's beauty in a passive sense. Black hair, so dark it was almost violet, tumbled down her shoulders. Round glasses framed an almost artistically crafted face. Plump pink lips seemed set in a perpetually pursed state (as if she was begging to be kissed, some deeply hidden part of my mind whispered). Her robes paradoxically concealed everything and hugged her body just so as to hint at what lay beneath.
Spoiler: Septima Vector
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There was also a slight rosiness to her cheeks when I sat down next to her. That was easy enough to dismiss as a trick of my eyes though.
Once I was seated, Dumbledore spoke again, "Now that our newest member is here, we may eat."
"What would you have done if I never showed up? Or if I sated my appetite in the kitchens or by House-Elf-express?" I immediately kicked myself mentally after the somewhat snarky question left my mouth. And at my side, it almost sounded like Professor Vector stifled a giggle with a cough.
"Well, I suppose we would have gone hungry, Atlas," Dumbledore replied goodnaturedly, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
I breathed a sigh of relief that no one took offense to my chronic foot-in-mouth disease. Professor Vector gave me a commiserating look as if she acutely understood my pain. Dumbledore raised his hands to clap and summon the food onto the table via, as I'd so elegantly put it, House-Elf-express.
He stopped midway through his clapping motion, "Ah, yes, before we begin, I do have one more announcement concerning the coming school year. This year, Hogwarts will have the pleasure of hosting the Triwizard Tournament!"
The only one who really showed any sort of reaction was Professor Flitwick. Snape and McGonagall seemed to already know about the tournament. Hagrid just looked confused. And Vector and I seemed to share the same sort of detached apathy toward what the Wizarding World considered 'good entertainment'.
Dumbledore still chuckled to himself, seemingly ignoring the lackluster reaction his announcement got, "Yes, yes, it is quite exciting. We will be hosting two other schools for the duration of the tournament - the Durmstrang Institute and Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. Also, certain accommodations will have to be made for the tournament - I'm sorry, Minerva, but Quidditch will be canceled this year."
That did get a reaction out of McGonagall but only a small huff. Dumbledore continued, "Now, I do not necessarily approve of this tournament… At least, not completely. But we will make the best of a poor situation and do everything we can to ensure the safety of our students - both those competing and those merely watching.
"Please keep that in mind. The safety of our students is paramount. I shall personally see that every precaution is taken to prevent loss of life. If the worst happens regardless, I will be having… words… with the Ministry and the tournament's organizers…"
I found out something just then. Very few things scared me like the prospect of an angry Dumbledore. Even the slight frown on his face as he referenced the worst happening sent shivers of danger down my spine. Thankfully, his displeasure wasn't directed at me. And hopefully, it never would be.
With his announcement made, Dumbledore clapped his hands and dinner began. I was content to eat in silence, taking in the light conversation that filled the rest of the table.
The news of the Triwizard tournament coming to Hogwarts and the very real possibility of a student dying in the coming year had finally managed to put a damper on the events of today for me. Only now were the implications of my new position setting in.
Hogwarts could never be called a 'safe' school, even more so when it came to the previous three years. And as part of the school's staff, I was now one of the most likely to be pulled into whatever danger the school would face in the coming year - read: Triwizard Tournament - after only the Girl-Who-Lived, her friends, and the rest of the Hogwarts staff.
Surprisingly, that thought didn't trigger my anxiety as I thought it would. In fact, a deeply repressed part of me reveled in the opportunity. I'd had too many 'safe' years at Hogwarts. Perhaps it was time for me to get in on the action. If nothing else, it would prove to be wonderful additional motivation for the Grind.
While I was lost in thought, I obviously missed Professor Vector seemingly battling with something internally. She was fidgeting in her seat - something I saw out of the corner of my eye but mostly ignored - and kept glancing at me. There was also a light dusting of color on her porcelain cheeks. A clearer sign of awkwardness and social anxiety and maybe something more, there had never been. So, of course, it went entirely over my head.
"A-Atlas…?" Professor Vector stuttered over my name slightly before she cleared her throat, the stern mask she usually wore in class falling over her face.
"Yes, Professor Vector?" I replied politely, pulling myself from my thoughts.
The sudden flare of color on her face was, again, unintentionally ignored by me, "I am no longer your Professor, Atlas. Please, call me Septima. To be honest, I was ever-so-slightly concerned my classes would be duller for your graduation. You've been my favorite student for the past two years now… Not many others come close to the enthusiasm or motivation you tackled my subject with. It's… w-wonderful to see you again so soon. And to be working together now, at that."
I allowed myself a self-deprecating smile, "I found that this position was probably my only option after graduating. Britain is… not kind to Wizards like me. Thankfully, this was also the best outcome I could've hoped for."
"I agree," Septima nodded. "Perhaps you would be interested in… assisting me now that you are an Assistant Professor…? I-In class!"
I smiled at her, completely missing the innuendo in her words, "It would be my pleasure. Though, I doubt it will be a full-time arrangement… With the fact that I will be working toward two Masteries, I have a feeling that my future duties will stretch my attention thin."
"Oh?" Septima perked up at the familiar topic of education. "Would one of those Masteries happen to be in the field of Arithmancy?"
I shook my head somewhat sheepishly, "Not for the moment. Perhaps in the future, once I've finished with Charms and Transfiguration. I wouldn't want you to get the idea that I don't appreciate your subject, Septima."
I said the last with an innocent chuckle but for some reason, my words brought that pleasant, rosy color back to Septima's cheeks. I puzzled over that slightly but no answers presented themselves to my logical mind. We fell into an almost awkward silence as Septima forced her blush to fade and she seemingly ignored me for a moment.
Not knowing what to say to break the silence, my mind went back to something I'd thought earlier today. Surprisingly enough, Septima was twiddling with her fingers as if she was struggling with something to say just like me. It certainly didn't fit the strict and confident way she held herself when she was teaching.
Before I realized it, I was blurting out something unrelated to our previous conversation, "I've been meaning to get into studying Rituals lately. I'd really like to know how they work… What makes them tick, ya know? I've run into a bit of an obstacle though… I can't seem to find any credible books on the subject."
A thankful look crossed over Septima's face and even though my statement didn't truly continue the conversation, she happily picked up on the familiar conversational ground I'd laid.
"And you likely won't in Britain. The Ministry is not a fan of Ritual Magic. They heavily censor any information on the subject not in family libraries. Even Hogwarts is not immune to their reach. Arithmancy is an important part of Rituals, though, and I have a few books from America that you might find helpful. I'd be more than willing to lend them to you. Or… maybe you could pick my brain yourself…?"
"If you'll let me," I agreed readily.
"Gladly," An exuberant smile spread across Septima's face. "Now, there are a few main elements of Arithmancy that are important to Rituals and Ritual Magic. One is, of course, Pythagoras' Equation for Magical Proportions. I'm sure you remember it from your OWL classes with me but when applied to Rituals, the Equation almost takes on a life of its own! Then there is a wide variety of symbolism to keep in mind when constructing or deconstructing a Ritual. Sacred shapes, magically powerful numbers, etc. And this is where the fun begins-…"
Septima quickly fell into lecture mode. It was good to see her in her element. I didn't know why she seemed so tense but she was relaxing more and more as she talked about the Arithmancy behind Ritual Magic. I listened, enthralled as I always was by her teaching, politely interjecting here and there with questions so she was sure I was listening.
The rest of dinner passed rather quickly as Septima lectured and waxed on about the beauties of Arithmancy and magical math. Even after the rest of the professors finished and vacated the table, Septima and I remained behind to continue our conversation. Truly, I couldn't think of a better way to spend an evening…
1 to Magical Theory for Attaining a Solid Basis in the Workings of Rituals Magical Theory 551=56/100
1 to Seduction for Making the Wallflower Open Up
Seduction 231=24/100
Huh, I wonder what that was about…
AN/Edit: Obligatory plug that I forgot to put in the chapter when I posted and now have to go back and edit but there are three more chapters on my . ~26k words with another chapter almost done that will bring that to 30
4: Boy-Who-Chaperoned
"Yes, just like that," Septima leaned over my shoulder, her breath brushing against my ear and making me shiver pleasantly.
She seemed to almost purr as I worked, just as focused as I was, "You're doing ~splendidly~, Atlas"
Thankfully, I didn't let the hot young woman in her prime who didn't know how sexy she was and just so happened to have been my teacher for four years distract me from my efforts. With a few more taps of the specialized funnel I was using, the circle of salt was complete. I sat back, unintentionally leaning into Septima's bosom, and breathed a sigh of relief.
2 to Ritual Magic for Forming Your First Complete Ritual Circle Ritual Magic 132=15/100
The Ritual Magic Discipline had been unlocked the day after I arrived back at Hogwarts, this time as a member of the staff. Septima had been ecstatic and eager to continue our conversation from the previous night when I'd asked about the books she'd mentioned. After another lecture, I felt I was starting to get a better idea of what made a Ritual a Ritual, and the Discipline was subsequently unlocked under the Creation Skill category.
The progress I'd made in the Discipline was thanks almost entirely to Septima. She happily taught me what she knew about the subject, most of it relating to Arithmancy in some way or another. My studies and her teaching on the Discipline culminated in this: level 15 and a complete but nearly useless circle for a sealing Ritual.
Thankfully, the sealing Ritual was only useless because we had nothing to seal instead of the circle being incorrect or incomplete. The circle itself was relatively simple. Just a circle with a square enclosed inside it. Two rows of smaller circles lined two sides of the square - top and bottom relative to the caster. A continuous line then connected all of those circles, forming a pattern that almost looked like zigzagging bars.
It wasn't much of an accomplishment. Just about the barest of bare essentials for those who practiced Ritualcraft, according to Septima's books from America. And even this much was technically illegal in Wizarding Britain. Of course, since I was only doing this for the academic aspect of it, I didn't really care about the legality. It wasn't like I planned on using it to seal an undead lich or anything…
Ritual Magic may have been the only Discipline I'd unlocked during my summer at Hogwarts but it was far from the only progress I'd made…
4 to Arithmancy for a Summer of Magical Math With Your Magical Math Teacher Arithmancy 464=50/100
3 to Magic Theory for Unlocking and Learning a New Discipline of Magic
Magic Theory 563=59/100
The Arithmancy increase made perfect sense. Septima was an expert in her field and passionate about teaching a student who was willing to put in the work. Studying with her also raised my Magic Theory level. I was now only one level away from fulfilling the requirement for the Wandless Magic Quest. There was other progress that was as confusing as it was welcome…
6 to Seduction for Reasons Apparent to Everyone Other Than You Two Dense Idiots… Seduction 246=30/100
2 to Luck… You Lucky Bastard
Luck 302=32/100
Yeah, I had no idea what those increases were about. I wasn't even trying to seduce Septima… All I did was pay close and obvious attention to her when she talked about her interests, spent quite a bit of time with her, and treated her the way I always had - as if she was the smartest witch in the room. I agreed with the Luck increase at least. I was a damn lucky bastard to have a woman like Septima as my teacher… as my friend…
Stats Body 109=19/100
Mind 247=31/100
Soul 185=23/100
My stats had also seen a satisfactory increase. I'd been dutifully doing the daily (now weekly) quest the System assigned to raise my Body stat. After nine weeks, Body had almost breached the 20-point milestone. Mind and Soul had seemingly naturally increased with my usual activities. Which seemed fair. I did spend the majority of my time studying, reading, or practicing magic.
"Congratulations on your first Ritual circle, Atlas. You've worked so hard these past few weeks and I always knew you could do it. Let's just… not tell the Ministry about your success, yes?" Septima said, beaming at me.
Her words and smile pulled me out of my impromptu progress check, "Wouldn't dream of it, Septima. I would hate to get you in trouble. We'd all be worse off without a mind like yours."
"Oh…" Septima's cheeks flushed with color. Was it something I said? "Suddenly I'm reminded why you are… were… my favorite student."
I just smiled and turned to start cleaning up the salt of the Ritual circle. When I turned my back to her, Septima was silent. Suddenly, she took a deep breath and spoke again in a halting voice that sounded nervous for some reason.
"S-Say, Atlas…? A-Are you busy tonight? I-If not, maybe you would like to stay for dinner? And maybe a bit later than that…? I-It's just! The school year is fast approaching and I wanted a second eye to go over my notes and lesson plans and we've been spending a lot of time together and I've greatly come to enjoy our time together and… I-I'm rambling. I'll just let you answer…"
Before I could reply or even really process all of that, a Patronus in the form of a ghostly phoenix drifted through the walls of Septima's classroom. Dumbledore's voice echoed out of the apparition, "Atlas, would you mind coming to my office now? I have a task for you."
Hearing Dumbledore's message, Septima seemed to shrink in on herself, "O-Oh…"
I finished cleaning up with a sweep of my wand and turned to Septima, "How about a rain check? I'd be more than happy to help you with your lesson plans at a later date. Unfortunately, duty calls."
As I left her classroom, I could have sworn I saw Septima pump her fists and let out a completely uncharacteristic but adorable "Yes!". I was already a floor away when my mind finally processed her proposition…
"Was that a-… Son of a bitch… ! Dammit, Albus, if you cost me a date with Septima, I swear to God…" For the first time in my life, I quite literally facepalmed, dragging my hand down my face as I swore.
1 to Perception… At Least You're Not My Most Clueless Host Perception 151=16/100
That was a poor consolation prize… But at least it was something… My mind raced as I walked, going back over all my previous interactions with Septima. Yeah… I still didn't get it. When had she shown any interest in me whatsoever that wasn't purely academic or friendly? I was only a couple of months removed from being her student! Or maybe that was part of the reason as well?
I was still grumbling slightly, having reached no satisfactory conclusions, when I reached Dumbledore's office and the gargoyle statue let me pass. I ascended the spiral staircase leading to his quarters, trying my best to push my disappointment off until later.
"Your timing leaves much to be desired, Albus," I said as I entered, fixing the Headmaster with a glare that had no heat behind it. "Septima just asked me something very important and I wasn't able to give her a proper answer because of your summoning."
Dumbledore at least had the decency to look slightly contrite, "My apologies, Atlas. The matter is somewhat urgent but I can call upon someone else if you need to be elsewhere at the moment. I simply figured that, as the youngest member of our staff, you would be the most apt choice for this task."
I plopped myself in the chair across from him, shaking my head, "The moment has already passed, Albus. What do you need from me?"
With an apologetic nod, Dumbledore continued, "As you know, the Quidditch World Cup started today and will run until tomorrow morning-…"
"I didn't," I interrupted.
Dumbledore paused in surprise, "Pardon?"
"I didn't know the Quidditch World Cup was today. Hell, I didn't even know it was this year. I don't really keep track of those kinds of things…" I explained with a shrug.
"Oh my, I was under the impression that it was something of the event of the summer. I hope this won't impact your answer to my request…?" Dumbledore asked.
"It probably won't. Apparently, I do not have plans tonight," At this point, I was just being petty.
"Quite," Dumbledore chuckled almost sheepishly. "I will be sure to compensate you for your time, Atlas. Nevertheless…"
"My request concerns Heather Potter. You do at least know who she is, yes?"
"I do," I deadpanned.
By the amused twinkle in his eyes, I think Dumbledore just enjoyed being able to go back and forth with someone like me, "Very good. Young Heather was invited to the World Cup by her Godfather. Unfortunately, he cannot attend for… certain safety concerns…"
I blinked, "The Girl-Who-Lived has a Godfather?"
Dumbledore nodded, "It is not common knowledge, but yes. They were estranged for a number of years and have only recently reconnected. That story is not mine to share… You only need to know that he wishes to make up for lost time but cannot attend the event in person.
"Heather is still deadset on attending the Cup. In fact, I suspect she is already there, unsupervised. Now, far be it from me to helicopter a young woman who is nearing legal adulthood… But I do worry. All I ask is that you go to check up on her. I imagine someone close to her age will be better received than, say, Severus?"
I shuddered at the idea of sending Snape to keep an eye on the Girl-Who-Lived. The Potions Professor's odd love-hate animosity with Heather Potter was well-known and equally creepy if I was being honest. I imagine the Girl-Who-Lived would rather kill Snape and then herself than have him skulk around sending her weird longing glares while she was trying to have fun. Just the thought of it was enough to make me agree to Dumbledore's request.
I nodded, "Chaperone Heather Potter, got it. I'll do it. Just… whatever you do, don't send Professor Snape. In fact, maybe you should look into a Muggle invention called a 'Restraining Order' when it comes to her and Snape."
For the first time, I got an actual laugh out of Dumbledore instead of his usual chuckles, "Ha! I'll consider your suggestion, Atlas."
When his laughter died down, he continued, eyes twinkling with amusement, "I suggest you get moving, Atlas. The game begins at noon and it is currently a quarter past 11. A series of portkeys at Hogsmeade will take you to the campgrounds. From there, it is a straight shot to the stadium. You can't miss it."
I nodded and stood, only pausing once I was upright, "Uh, a thought occurs, Albus. How am I supposed to find Heather Potter? If I just go around the Cup asking for her, I'll be labeled a stalker before I know it. I would rather not speak to the Aurors because of this task of yours."
I saw the corners of Dumbledore's lips quirk up beneath his beard, "Indeed. You will find Heather in the Top Box of the Stadium. Alongside the Minister and a few select others. I believe the placement is a prank on her Godfather's part. Mention the name 'Padfoot'. Heather will know what it means and she will know you mean her no harm. In addition, if you are barred entry, my name will open many doors and I give you permission to use it freely."
That had potential, "I'll keep that in mind, Albus. For the future as well if you'll let me."
Dumbledore waved, dismissing me, "Yes, yes, use my name at your convenience. You are a member of my staff now, after all. All I ask is that you do not directly implicate me in any crimes. Well… crimes against people. The Ministry is fair game."
The look in his eyes told me he was only mostly joking about that. Which was… something for sure. He'd basically given me tacit approval to use his name to get out of any sticky situations I found myself in. Or to rob the Ministry blind and give the spoils to Muggle-borns like some kind of Wizarding Robin Hood. Was it telling that that was the first place my mind went?
New Quest Unlocked: Boy-Who-Chaperoned Condition(s): Keep Heather Potter and Hermione Granger Safe Through the Duration of the Quidditch World Cup
Rewards: 2 to Defense, 5 to Attack, and 6 to Awareness
Should I be concerned that all of those rewards were for my Combat Skill…?
A quick stop at my room later, I was on my way down to Hogsmeade to avail myself of one of the World Cup portkeys. I'd picked out a book and shrunk it to fit in my pocket while I was in my room. I wasn't going to enjoy whatever clusterfuck Wizards called a sport if I could help it. Also, I was only one level away from Magic Theory 60/100 and I was hoping to finish up that requirement for the Wandless Magic quest while chaperoning Heather Potter. Truly, the Grind never stopped.
1 to Willpower for Your Can-Do Attitude Willpower 301=31/100
Huh, cool, anyways… It didn't take me more than 10 minutes to get to Hogsmeade and requisition a portkey for myself. The world spun and after a moment of travel that stretched longer than it should have, I was spat out onto the Quidditch World Cup campgrounds.
The first thing I noticed was the typical lights in my eyes from portkey travel. Then the noise of a few thousand Wizards and Witches gathered in one place. Then the smell… And then my vision cleared, and I was greeted with chaos.
The portkey had deposited me on the edge of a field of tents. Row after row of tents and stalls and even little wooden huts extended before me until they disappeared into the mist. Some tried to keep things at least plausibly Muggle. Others didn't even try to do that much.
Wizards and Witches from all over the globe lingered around the campgrounds. They mingled and reveled, shooting off spells and shouts of exuberance. Even now, I could see Obliviators working overtime to quell and suppress the Muggle population of the campsite. A part of me seethed at the casual disregard the Wizards paid the Muggles, not even bothering to adhere to the Statute of Secrecy since they had the advantage in numbers for once.
Did the Ministry even have to pick a Muggle location for an event of this magnitude? It just screamed of incompetence or even malice to me. The Muggles here might have been coming to this campsite for a quiet weekend of camping. What they got instead were memory charms and Wizarding chaos…
How magic could be so wonderful and Wizards such close-minded people, I would never understand. But the treatment of these Muggles wasn't something I could do anything about. I was one man in a sea of Wizards high on their own privilege. All I could do was keep my head down and do the task I came here for.
People were slowly streaming in a common direction. Thankfully, that meant that most of the Muggles were starting to be left alone. I followed the flow of the crowd to a wooded area adjacent to the moore the campsite was located on. I walked along a trail lit by magical, floating lanterns, a single uninterested nerd amongst thousands of rowdy Wizarding football hooligans.
The stadium soon came into view and I wondered how it wasn't visible from the campgrounds. It was a massive thing of gold and silver, shining like a beacon at night even though it was currently midday. Magic was the obvious answer but the actual 'how' of the stadium's concealment perked my interest. Something to look into later…
I entered the stadium with the crowd but quickly separated from most of them. Even a crowd as big as the one I traveled with seemed to be made up of the Cup's stragglers and late-comers. Everywhere I looked, seats were filled and Wizards and Witches were practically stacked on top of each other.
I climbed flight after flight of stairs on my way to the Top Box. Even Hogwarts had nothing on this stadium when it came to stairs. I was ever thankful for the daily exercise I'd been doing for the past nine weeks and the increase to my Body that had come with it. I actually felt pretty damn fit now and there had even been a visual improvement in my physique (I had abs now!).
Luckily, I didn't have to climb to the very top to catch up with my charge for the day. I caught up to Heather Potter about three-quarters of the way up the stadium's stairs. With her was a girl I recognized as Hermione Granger, Heather's best friend, and a veritable horde of redheads.
The reason I'd caught up to them became clear when I came closer. In front of the group of redheads, Heather, and Hermione, was the Minister of Magic. He was huffing and panting, visibly not used to exerting himself like this. Strangely enough, there was also a big shaggy black dog trailing behind him that looked as if it was snickering at the Minister's expense.
I made my way through the group of redheads behind Heather Potter, muttering apologies and 'excuse me's as I did. Most of them didn't seem to mind, letting me pass. The younger of the two female redheads with the group actually eyed me up and down, biting her lip as she did. I gave her a friendly nod and an extra apology, thinking that's what her expression meant.
Only one of them gave me any trouble, the youngest redhead boy. I vaguely recognized him as Ron Weasley, a Hogwarts student in Heather's year, mostly because the way he ate in the Great Hall at Hogwarts was hard to miss. As the last one between the redheads and Heather, he gave me his best vicious glare as I tried to pass him. It didn't have the impact I think he wanted it to.
Heather glanced back at me curiously, having heard the commotion I made to get behind her. Bright, emerald-green eyes locked with mine as if she was looking into my soul. Round, wireframe glasses rested atop an adorable button nose, framing her eyes in a way that did nothing to distract from their brilliance. Straight black hair was tied up in a casual, messy ponytail, giving Heather an effortlessly beautiful vibe as if she'd just rolled out of bed looking this good.
Even with her ahead of me on the stairs, I had to look down slightly to meet her eyes. The Girl-Who-Lived was surprisingly short, maybe 5'1" at most. But that didn't mean she wasn't blessed in other ways. Her short frame was curvier than it had any right to be, with bountiful breasts, a tiny waist, and wide hips.
Spoiler: Heather Potter
It's surprisingly hard to find good fem Harry Potter art
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Heather's friend, Hermione, turned to look at me as well. Her features were more understated than Heather's but she was no less attractive for that fact. Her hair was curly almost to the point of frizz and for some reason I found myself wanting to help her brush it… She was taller than Heather with a slimmer figure but from behind, you would never be able to tell. Seriously, walking up the stairs behind Hermione was like constantly achieving visual nirvana.
Spoiler: Hermione Granger
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Then our eyes met. Eyes the color of molten chocolate met my pale hazels. The world seemed to freeze and something passed between us… Some spark, some understanding between like-minded souls, some Connection…
2 to Soul for Soul Resonance Soul: 232=25/100
Then the moment passed as soon as it came and I found myself speaking, "Heather Potter? I'm Atlas White. Dumbledore sent me to chaperone you since your Godfather couldn't make it."
Heather and Hermione shared a glance and shrugged. The adults of the redheaded brood looked relieved when I mentioned Dumbledore's name. Ron's ineffective glare instantly tripled in intensity and jealousy. But the strangest reaction to my words came from the shaggy black dog behind the Minister.
It stayed behind when I got Heather's attention and she stopped. So I assumed it belonged to her. Or Hermione, I guess. But the dog's reaction to my words was surprisingly… Human. Its eyes widened when I said my name and then its tail began to wag so hard I was a bit worried it was going to fall off. The dog looked like it was happier to see me than it had been about anything else for a long time. A bit of light even seemed to surface in its eyes almost as if it was remembering something long-forgotten.
Why was I thinking of this dog as if it was sapient? As if it was Human when it obviously wasn't? I shook those thoughts out of my head. It was probably just a friendly dog that was happy to meet new people. Its tongue had just fallen out in happiness. Yeah, it was clearly just a dog…
Ron scoffed rudely, trying to push me to the side and artificially put himself as close to the Girl-Who-Lived as possible, "As if, nerd. Get lost. Heather doesn't need some chaper-whatever. She's got us to watch out for her. I think she'd rather be with her family than some rando who's probably stalking her."
"Family?" I saw Hermione mouth to Heather. Heather looked just as perplexed by the redheaded boy's massive overstep. They apparently decided to ignore it and Ron for now though.
Heather rolled her eyes, "Ignore him. Ron's been being a prat ever since summer started."
Ron whirled on Heather, snapping at his supposed 'friend', "Heather! We don't even know who this guy is! He could be a Death Eater or some Pure-Blood in disguise! He claims he's working for Dumbledore but I certainly don't know him! He hasn't even offered any proof!"
"I… agree… with Ron…" Hermione said, looking as if she wanted to do anything but. "We can't just blindly trust him, even if he's using Dumbledore's name. Do you have any proof, Atlas?"
"Uh, yeah, Dumbledore said to mention something about a 'Padfoot'?" The shaggy black dog woofed in response to what I could now guess was a name. "Oh, is that your dog's name?"
Heather smirked and the dog seemed to do the same somehow, "There, Ron, is that enough proof for you? If he knows Padfoot's name, he can't be a Death Muncher. I very much doubt that's a name that Dumbledore goes around sharing."
"I still don't like this nerd…" Ron grumbled.
His continued animosity toward me didn't seem to matter much. Heather and Hermione seemed convinced and he was outvoted, if his opinion even had any weight in the first place… I thought it was a bit weird to have your dog's name as a codeword but shrugged that thought off. If it worked, it worked. Not like I actually intended any harm to Heather or her friends. I made a note to suggest a better system for recognition to Heather in the future though.
The redheaded twins, from what I now recognized as the Weasley brood, pushed past us, "C'mon, guys…"
"… The game's about…"
"… To start!"
5: Top Box Pure-Bloods
Despite the twins' rush, our group - me, Heather, Hermione, Padfoot, and the Weasleys - made it to the Top Box well before the game started. We even caught up to the Minister, Cornelius Fudge, thanks to his obvious exhaustion. Fudge was still breathing heavily when he reached the Box and began conversing with another important-looking, government official type.
From the look of thinly veiled disgust on his face, the other man looked like he'd rather be talking to anyone else. I couldn't blame him… I wouldn't want a pasty, old white guy panting in my face either.
Other than Fudge and the other official - who I overheard being addressed as Minister of Bulgaria - the Top Box was practically empty. Its only other resident was a House Elf, shaking like a leaf in the wind next to a suspiciously empty seat. Did the Top Box offer House-Elf-express?
We took our seats. I ended up at the end of the group's seating, next to Hermione and Heather, with Heather sitting closest to me. The suspiciously empty chair and the House Elf occupying it were on my other side. That arrangement stayed persistently in the back of my mind for some reason. Something about the empty seat was bothering me and I couldn't figure out why… It was almost as if the air in the seat was looking at me intently and, dare I say, nostalgically…?
A question from Heather grabbed my attention before I could worry about it more though, "So… Atlas, was it? Why'd Dumbledore send you?"
"Huh?" My gaze was torn from the empty seat and directed at the Girl-Who-Lived. "Oh, I don't really know, to be honest. I'm the newest and youngest member of the Hogwarts staff. Albus seemed to think this was a task more fit for me than someone like Professor Snape."
Heather shuddered viscerally at my mention of the Potions Professor, "Ugh… Thanks for that then. I don't even know you but I'd take a hundred of you over Snape."
"I figured as much," I nodded. "His hatred for you was famous even amongst the upper years…"
"The worst part is I don't think it's just hatred…" Heather admitted in a hushed whisper, disgust clear on her face.
"You're a Professor? That's very impressive for someone so young!" Hermione said, thankfully changing the subject off of Snape.
I waved my hand in a so-so motion, "Eh, Assistant Professor. And only to pay my way as I pursue my Masteries. I graduated just this year and decided to continue my education. I'm just lucky Albus was willing to give me a shot."
"Hey, how about that, Hermione~?" Heather shot her bookish friend a knowing side-eye and grin. "Maybe our chaperone here will be nice enough to help you study this year~?"
"Sure," I shrugged. "It's my job. And it'd be a privilege to tutor the smartest witch of her generation. You know, Professor McGonagall still talks about you, even over the summer?"
Hermione blushed at my praise and an almost silly little smile appeared on her face, "I-Is that so?"
"Yeah, she's very proud of you. Kinda makes me want to see what all the hype is about." I said innocently.
Hermione reddened further and Heather's grin just grew, "Oh, yes, I see many late-night study sessions in the future for you two… Hot~ Sweaty~ Study sessions~ Maybe I'll even have to join sometime~?"
Hermione looked scandalized by her friend's teasing, "Heather! You don't have to be so crass!"
Heather shrugged, "I'm just sharing what I see with my inner eye. Don't get mad at the messanger~"
An embarrassed huff escaped Hermione, "Honestly, I wish you'd drop Divination, Heather."
"Hey, you're the one who convinced me to take Ancient Runes last year," Heather said, her grin turning unrepentantly mischievous. "That means I need the blow-off class to work on the homework. Divination is great for that because half the time, Trelawney is passed out drunk, and the other half, she's too hungover to do anything more than a tea reading."
I winced at the honesty in that statement, "Yeah, there's a reason I was never interested in Divination."
"What were your favorite subjects?" Hermione asked, eagerly taking an interest in me for some reason.
"Charms, Transfiguration, Runes, and Arithmancy," I recounted easily. "I would count Defense in that selection if we had any worthwhile teachers other than Professor Lupin for the subject. As is, most of my Defense knowledge is self-taught."
Strangely enough, Padfoot perked up at my mention of Professor Lupin and barked. Heather also seemed to perk up a bit. Maybe she was close to him?
"Those are some of my favorite subjects too! P-Perhaps Heather is right and you could t-tutor us in Ancient Runes…?"
"Hot~ Sweaty~ Late-night~ Study sessions~" Heather singsonged.
Hermione swatted her friend on the arm for her teasing. I could see what Heather was trying to do. I'd have to be blind not to. She was trying to set Hermione up with me, playing the best wingman a 16-year-old girl could; complete with blatant innuendo. I just couldn't figure out why.
I wasn't necessarily against this development. Hermione was as blindingly attractive as Heather or even Septima were. And we seemed to share an enthusiasm for learning and interest in the same kinds of magic. And I wasn't their teacher… yet.
I couldn't deny that there was a certain pull attracting me to Hermione. It had begun when we'd locked eyes on the stairs and time seemed to freeze. Like my magic was calling out for hers, it had grown throughout our conversation. I had no idea if she felt it as well or if I was feeling a connection that wasn't there. I didn't think I was, considering the mysterious System notification that accompanied the start of this all.
There was a similar attraction to Heather. It was to a much lesser extent though. And it was almost as if it was muffled or something. Or split two ways? Like there was a connection with Heather herself but it was struggling against something perverse and corrupted… A parasite on her soul that even the dark nature of my magic was repulsed by…
I knew I was probably reaching there, letting the pretentious, flowery part of my mind spin a story as if it was thread. I'd always had an active imagination.
I had no idea what to make of the feelings of attraction I felt toward the two girls. I couldn't even tell if there really was something else, something magical, there or if I was just attracted to them in a much more mundane sense. Maybe my brain was still caught up on the implication Septima and I left off on and so I was grasping at straws with two more attractive Witches as some strange form of compensation?
Either way, I was content to let Heather flirt on Hermione's behalf. The Girl-Who-Lived wasn't what I had been expecting. She was laid back and easy to talk to, with a vicious teasing streak when it came to her friends. It wasn't as if I was expecting her to be stuck up and arrogant but this was still a pleasant surprise. I could honestly see myself getting along with her just as I could Hermione. Ron, though… was another matter entirely.
I knew about the 'Golden Trio' in passing from my time at Hogwarts. But seeing it up close gave me a very different picture than the rumors I'd heard. Ron was the clear third wheel here. It was as if Heather and Hermione only barely tolerated him and the fact that he was constantly hanging around them despite that was telling.
Heather and Hermione had fixated on me when we sat down (a fact that did things to an ego that I didn't know I had…) and Ron was quickly pushed to the side and forgotten about. Something that had him visibly seething in his seat. His glare toward me hadn't dropped for a single second and was now being interspersed with strangely jealous and possessive glances at the two girls that a large part of me didn't like at all.
Thankfully, the next arrivals to the Top Box redirected Ron's hatred away from me. A platinum blond man, obviously Pure-Blood, and his wife and son entered the box. The man immediately went to schmooze and suck up to Fudge. His wife stood next to him, the picture of Pure-Blood perfection.
To be fair, though, she was a vision of perfection. Just not one I was accustomed to. She was elegance and pompous regality personified, with the looks and body to back up her better-than-thou air. And… I couldn't help but notice a bit of resemblance between her and me. Her hair was two-toned, white and black like my own. And I could've sworn I saw those same cheekbones every time I looked in the mirror…
Spoiler: Narcissa Malfoy
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I shook off the feeling of familiarity for the Pure-Blooded wife. The resemblance wasn't strong enough for me to consider her to be my mystery mother. Maybe an aunt or cousin but my gut feeling was that I hadn't come directly from her loins. All Pure-Bloods are related in some way or another, right?
The son of the obviously Pure-Blooded family wasn't paying attention to his father as he kissed the Minister's ass. Instead, he'd taken up position on the second tier of seats in the Top Box and was looking down his nose at our group, smirking smugly as if he was better just because he was a foot higher than us. Ron's hatred was instantly directed at the boy, who I guessed was a familiar foe for the Golden Trio.
"Malfoy," The redheaded boy spat.
"Weasel," The blond spat right back. "Potter. Mudblood. Funny seeing-…"
"Hey, that's uncalled for," I cut in at Hermione's defense, knowing he wasn't referring to me. "I don't even know you. Is it really necessary to call me a slur?"
"What?" The blond, Malfoy, looked flustered at being interrupted, noticing me for what seemed to be the first time. "I wasn't talking to-… No, who are you? Has the Girl-Who-Lived picked up another ill-bred mutt?"
"I wouldn't say that…" I hedged with a slight grin. Let's see if my raised Perception had read him correctly. "If anything I picked her up. I'm the adult in our relationship after all."
Ron and the Malfoy scion both gaped at me, sharing a common brain cell for a second. Then anger, utter redheaded fury, flashed in Ron's eyes and an odd look of hurt flashed in Malfoy's. Heather giggled at their expressions so much that she fell against me, further selling my misleading little white lie to both of them. Hermione saw through what I was doing almost instantly and joined her best friend in a giggle fit.
Heather and I did have a relationship… Just not a romantic one, seeing as I was only her chaperone and we'd just met. Something Ron should have known so I didn't feel too bad for him. He was here when I introduced myself to them, for God's sake. Why was he so pissed?
As for the blond Pure-Blood, I think he harbored some feelings for Heather that he was ashamed of. Maybe he hadn't even acknowledged them himself. Oh well, he was a dick. I'd only known him a minute and I could already tell that much. Honestly, he reminded me of a schoolboy with a crush, which fit with the image of how sheltered Pure-Bloods were in my mind.
The look of emotional damage in his eyes was quickly smothered, repressed, rejected, and turned into vitriolic scoff, "Of course. It makes perfect sense that a Muggle-loving traitor like Potter would date someone who looks barely better than a Muggle. Or maybe he's some kind of Dark creature. He certainly looks skinny and scruffy enough to be a werewolf."
That actually made me frown slightly. I wasn't scruffy. And he was even skinnier than me!
"Tell me, Potter, does he have some beastlike nature that he lets out in the bedroom? Is that why you keep him around?" The Malfoy scion continued.
Oh… Ooooh… I think his repressed crush mixed with his loathing and made this into some weird fetish thing. And he didn't even realize he was projecting onto a nonexistent relationship… I cringed. I cringed hard. Heather and Hermione weren't far behind.
"Be silent, Draco," The Malfoy Matriach ordered, having been drawn over to us by the commotion. "You're embarrassing yourself."
Suitably chastised by his mother, Draco fell quiet. She then turned her attention to me, "Boy. Who are your parents?"
Padfoot, Heather's shaggy black dog, woofed at the question. The Malfoy wife's eyes darted to it, some form of recognition that I couldn't identify shining in them.
I answered her with a shrug, "I don't rightly know. I was left at an orphanage when I was young. I'm Atlas White, by the way. Recent Hogwarts graduate and newly employed Assistant Professor. So nice of you to ask politely and not introduce yourself."
You could have cut yourself on the sharp sarcasm in my tone. I had no patience for Pure-Bloods like this woman or her husband or her son. She, of course, took my sarcasm in stride with the grace of a woman who lived and breathed the art of conversation. She did glance at Padfoot again and the dog looked almost… sheepish?
"The resemblance is uncanny…" She whispered to herself, before raising her voice to call over her husband. "Lucius, come here, please. Do you see what I see?"
Lucius, her husband, didn't look happy to be called away from kissing the Minister's ass but made his excuse and exit from that conversation all the same. He looked slightly put out as he made his way over to us but directed his attention where his wife indicated all the same. When he saw me, his eyes sharpened considerably.
By this point, almost all of us were lost. The only ones who seemed to be on the same page were the two older Pure-Bloods and seemingly the… dog…?
"My my, boy, where have you been all of your life?" Lucius asked, his voice a study of condescending curiosity.
I didn't really know how to answer that, "Uh… A Muggle orphanage…? And then Hogwarts?"
"What a shame that someone of your… quality… was raised by mere animals…" He tutted as if he was disappointed. "I can already tell you would have done great things if you were raised right."
Padfoot growled at the older Pure-Blood as if the dog took great offense to his words. He took up a position at my side, haunches raised and teeth bared.
"I think I did pretty good for myself in life," I said defensively. "Even with no support, I graduated with honors from Hogwarts and even managed to get a job as Assistant Professor."
Lucius sneered at Padfoot, seemingly ignoring my words, "You should keep your mutt on a tighter leash, boy."
Padfoot wasn't mine but I wasn't about to tell this asshole that. Who knew what would happen if he learned that Padfoot potentially belonged to the Girl-Who-Lived… I was here to protect Heather. I wasn't going to drag her into whatever problem Lucius had with me. I had a feeling he already had more than enough reason to hate her…
Suddenly, the Minister interjected him into the conversation, trying to de-escalate the situation before it potentially evolved to violence, "Now, Lucius, let's keep things civil. There is no need to concern yourself with the rabble. After all, we have guests at the moment…"
Lucius sniffed haughtily, "Of course, Cornelius. Though, perhaps next time you should be more thorough with screening entry to this venerated seating area. We wouldn't want people to get the wrong idea about the company you keep, yes?"
Fudge laughed awkwardly, glancing at the other Minister of Magic in the Box, "A wonderful suggestion, Lucius. I shall take it into consideration for future events such as this."
With that, the two opposing groups in the Top Box naturally segregated themselves. The Ministers and Pure-Blood family took the upper tier of seating. Fudge and Lucius seemed content to act like the rest of us weren't even there. Though I did see something that looked like a sympathetic expression cross the Bulgarian Minister's face and the other two Malfoys continued to glance our way periodically - the mother with curiosity in her eyes and Draco with poorly repressed jealous loathing.
The Weasleys and Heather's party - including me - turned back forward in the lower half of the Top Box. The adult Weasleys looked relieved that things hadn't escalated any further. The younger Weasleys still looked ready and willing to throw down. The twins and the youngest female Weasley whose name I still didn't know had a certain glint in their eyes that told me they were dangerous and held more than a tiny grudge. Even Ron looked willing to throw down if it came to that, maybe not on my behalf but against the Pure-Bloods all the same.
Hell, Heather and Hermione had actually drawn their wands discreetly at some point. They clutched them tightly at their sides, seemingly eager to jump to my defense… Or maybe just curse some confrontational asshole Pure-Bloods. I could sympathize with the sentiment, absently fingering my own wand in my pocket.
Still, the tension in the Box gradually decreased from the brink of violence to more of an uncomfortable simmer. The upper tier acted as if they were ignoring us and we did the same in return. Lucius went back to brown-nosing and conversation eventually picked back up amongst our group as well.
"What was that all about?!" Hermione asked me in a sort of hissed whisper, leaning over Heather to get closer to me.
I laughed incredulously, "Would you believe me if I said I had no idea?"
Hermione bit her lip in a way that was distractingly appealing, "… Yes. But it almost sounded like they knew you somehow…"
"Eh, don't worry about them," Heather advised. "The Malfoys are always assholes."
"Language, Heather," Hermione gently chided. "Even if I agree…"
I remained silent and the two girls fell into another topic of conversation, leaving me to think. Heather said not to worry but I couldn't help it. Hermione was right. It did seem like they knew me or at least thought they knew something more about me. My parentage perhaps…? And then there was the strangely Human way Padfoot was acting. I didn't know what to make of that either.
Not long after, magically enhanced horns and cannon blasts signaled the start of the game. I took that as my cue to distract myself with something else. The shrunken book in my pocket was retrieved and enlarged. I opened it and picked up where I'd left off as the men in the Box went wild for some reason.
"Aren't you distracted?" Hermione asked.
I didn't look up from my book, "By what?"
"By them," Hermione waved at something on the field, drawing my attention out of the corner of my eye.
Sighing, I looked up and to where she'd indicated. While I was reading, a group of women made their way onto the field. They reminded me of Muggle cheerleaders but to the repressed Wizarding World, they must have been practically succubi.
Each one was rapturously beautiful, a fact made clearer by the Jumbotron-like screens that displayed closer views of them. They danced around the field as the players did their warm-up laps, moving like sex incarnate and generally hyping up the crowd.
Scandalously short skirts swished with each twirl and spin. Wide expanses of exposed cleavage bounced and jiggled as they moved. Smiles that could match art's greatest masterpieces were practically glued across the women's faces, never wavering as they twisted and turned for the crowd's enjoyment. And… something magical… seemed to pour off of them, enticing Wizards and Witches alike in the crowd and further enhancing the cheerleaders' beauty.
"Huh… cool. Veela cheerleaders are a thing…" I said with mild interest before shrugging and going back to my book. I wasn't about to be distracted from the Grind by some silly Allure from hundreds of meters away.
"That's it?" Hermione muttered to herself in surprise. I didn't see the glances she exchanged with Heather and the youngest Weasley, or the one she sent Ron's way only to see him literally drooling and trying to throw himself over the edge of the Top Box.
"What are you reading?" She asked once it became clear I wasn't going to look back up at the Veela cheerleaders.
"Magical Hieroglyphs and Logograms," I answered absently. "I'm trying to think of a more practical way to use Runes on a personal level. Maybe some sort of magical Runic tattoo…?"
That was true but not the only reason I was reading this magical text. I was also hoping to use it to get the last level I needed in Magical Theory for my Wandless Magic quest. Still, my distracted explanation piqued Hermione's interest.
"Ancient Runes?" Hermione asked. "I haven't heard of that book before. It wasn't in the required textbooks for class…"
I did my best to continue the conversation as I read, "It wouldn't be. This is a post-OWL-level text. It's used as optional supplemental material for the NEWT classes of Ancient Runes."
"Fascinating," Hermione marveled. "May I read along with you?"
"What? Oh, uh, yeah, I guess. Knock yourself out," I said, only paying a little bit of attention to her. I was mostly engrossed in a particularly interesting passage on the long-lasting effects of magical Ancient Egyptian Hieroglyphs in tombs.
I was so engrossed that I barely noticed Hermione glance at the rest of our group and see them otherwise occupied with the actual start of the game. Seeing this, she shuffled her way past Heather to my side. Heather didn't seem to mind, absorbed in silly broom-bound acrobatics.
I almost missed the little bite Hermione gave her lower lip as well. But I certainly felt what she did next. She practically molded herself to my side, getting close enough that I could feel her heartbeat speed up. Still, I didn't look up from my book and she soon joined me, basically reading over my shoulder.
"So close…" I mumbled to myself. I could feel the next level of Magic Theory looming on the metaphorical horizon.
Hermione jumped slightly, startled by my whisper, "S-Sorry! I can move if you want!"
"What?" I asked distractedly. "No, you're fine where you are. I was referring to the text. I feel as if I'm close to a breakthrough…"
"S-So you don't mind this position?" Hermione asked. She sounded nervous. I couldn't guess why.
"No, just hush. I need to focus," Perhaps my response was a little rude but Hermione didn't seem to mind, huddling even closer to me to try and see what I saw in the text.
"This is amazing," Hermione mumbled in awe. "I wasn't even aware there were Runic languages other than Elder Futhark in use today…"
"Hermione, shhh," I chided her again, more gently this time.
She obeyed at first but it wasn't long before she lost control of her tongue again in her excitement. She gasped, "There are magical hieroglyphs on the bottoms of the Pyramids?!"
I sighed. This wasn't working. I couldn't focus with Hermione continuing to make adorable but distracting exclamations. It was time to switch tactics.
Holding my book open with one hand, my other arm wrapped itself around Hermione's waist. She squeaked in surprise but I ignored it. Lifting my book, I repositioned her by pulling her into my lap. Her marvelous behind was planted firmly on my crotch but surprisingly, I found I could focus better this way.
"If you will not be quiet, I will have to read to you aloud. Please keep all of your questions until the end of the lecture. Class is now in session, Hermione," I declared, trying to imitate the stern, strict atmosphere that Septima brought to teaching.
I felt a shiver of something run through Hermione's body and it almost sounded like she let out a little whine of need. I did feel her push herself back into my embrace. Thankfully, with her now quiet, I was able to once again focus on the Grind, now training my Teaching Discipline as well. Because as good as she felt in my lap, the Grind wouldn't wait for horniness… Other than when I finally got around to purposefully training Seduction, of course.
I picked up where I left off in the book, now reading aloud. I also stopped to explain my thought process as I read. Hopefully, that would give Hermione a better basis in Ancient Runes than just listening to me read a text verbatim. It was also doing wonders for my own comprehension of the material. I could practically feel the XP streaming into my System.
The game continued around us but Hermione and I were lost in our own little world. All that mattered was the book in front of us and furthering our understanding of magic. Well… the way she occasionally shifted in my lap mattered as well but I was able to keep my reaction from becoming physical thanks to the progress I was making in the Grind.
And I was making progress. Quite a bit of it. Notifications appeared in my vision and were dismissed as I pushed myself farther and farther down the road of the Grind, bringing a student along with me. That was how we spent the entirety of the World Cup's final game. And as the snitch was caught, the notification I'd been waiting for popped up.
1 to Magic Theory for Your Increased Understanding of Ancient Runes Magic Theory 591=60/100
4 to Teaching for Effectively Teaching a Student Advanced Material
Teaching 284=32/100
3 to Seduction for Recreating One of Hermione's Greatest Fantasies
Seduction 303=33/100
1 to Soul for Deepening Your Soul Resonance With Hermione
Soul: 251=26/100
The Grind had never tasted so sweet…
6: Chaotic Celebrations
"I see you live up to your name, Atlas," Heather's eyes were practically twinkling like Dumbledore's did but her mischievous grin would've looked more at home on a fox. "Ya know, holding up her whole world like that~"
Perched firmly in my lap, Hermione blushed at her friend's teasing. That didn't stop her from subtly grinding against me some more though.
Once the snitch had been caught, the game ended and the rest of our group didn't have something to so readily distract them from what me and Hermione were doing. Heather seemed to take it in stride, noticing the book in my hands and piecing together the rest. Padfoot gave a woof of approval that sounded almost proud…
The older Weasleys didn't seem to think it was any of their business, which I was glad for. The twins and their younger sister took our position just as well as Heather did, though they did look like they'd give Hermione a good-natured ribbing about it later. Ron, however, had turned so red that I thought steam was going to pour out of his ears. Thankfully, the twins saw this and took him aside so he was easy enough to ignore.
"Hermione," I gently prompted, whispering in her ear and accidentally making her shudder in my lap. "I think it's time for us to get up."
With a shaky nod, Hermione did just that, leaving me feeling surprisingly empty from the lack of contact. I got up as well, thankful and regretful in equal measure that my focus on the Grind kept me from lingering too much on the feeling of a beautiful girl against me. At least I wasn't about to tear a hole in my pants from excitement.
"What a game!" With Hermione and I separated, Heather moved on to seemingly more important topics. Though, her teasing gaze still drifted between me and Hermione as she spoke.
"Yeah! Did you see the teamwork from the Irish chasers?" The youngest redhead - I still needed to learn her name - agreed.
"I was more focused on the battle between the seekers!" Heather replied.
That's when I tuned them out. As much as I was starting to like Heather, Quidditch would never be my favorite thing about the Wizarding World. I did notice that Hermione seemed to be unconsciously gravitating toward me before I directed my gaze to the rest of the Box.
The moment I did that, though, I caught the eye of the Malfoy Matriach. She was staring at me intently as if she was trying to decipher whatever secrets I held. I almost snorted. Good luck with that, lady. I don't even know my own secrets and I'm pretty sure you know more than me.
I glanced away from her dismissively, hoping to piss off the Pure-Blood mother just a bit more than I already had. Her husband was doing what he seemed to do best: sucking up to the Minister. And her son, Draco, was eyeing me with a look of open hatred. I flashed him a smile to piss him off even more as well.
Movement near the Minister distracted me from my new favorite hobby of pissing off Pure-Bloods. For a moment, I could have sworn I saw Fudge's wand float out of the pocket of his robes. It almost looked as if an invisible hand was grabbing it but it disappeared too quickly for me to tell more. Also, the House Elf I'd noticed before the game seemed to have disappeared… How odd…
Pushing it out of my mind, I turned back to our group and interrupted Heather's conversation, "Welp, games over. We should probably be getting ourselves home."
"Aw, c'mon," Heather whined half-jokingly. "It's only like 4 o'clock. The party's barely started! Don't you wanna stay and get to know us better~?"
"Wait, get to know you better? I thought he was your boyfriend?!" No one bothered to dignify Ron's idiotic question with a response.
I was on the fence, honestly wanting to get out of there so I could complete my quest and Grind some more. The hopeful look on Hermione's face was what eventually swayed me, "Fine… Did your Godfather provide you with a tent or something?"
Padfoot barked as if that was a reply I could understand. Heather 'translated', "Yeah, it's a nice one too. Expanded inside, plumbing, climate control, and everything."
I'll be honest, the mention of the tent's capabilities piqued my interest, "I've always been curious about how they enchant a tent to do all that. I guess I could try to figure it out while you girls party."
"Or… you could party with us!" Heather suggested. "C'mon, is studying all you think about?"
"Yes…?" I half-said, half-asked.
Heather giggled, "You're worse than Hermione. Even she knows how to have fun now and then. I guess I'll just have to teach you to unwind as I did for her~"
"Why do I have a feeling I'm in danger now…?" I asked no one.
"Because you're smart," Hermione deadpanned.
Padfoot barked a bark that sounded suspiciously like a Human laugh. Heather just pouted, "I'm not that bad, guys. Only, like, half of my ideas end with a life-or-death situation… Maybe like three-quarters at most…"
At this point, our group started streaming out of the Top Box. The girls continued their back-and-forth conversation, with Hermione playing the straight man to Heather's teasing. I stayed mostly silent, occasionally adding something when addressed but content to simply observe. Padfoot had seemingly taken a liking to me, sticking to my side and reminding me of my own familiar, Shadow.
We followed the Weasleys down and out of the stadium and back to the campgrounds. By no means were we the first to arrive back there though. Celebrations were already in full swing. Wizards and Witches raved and reveled, making merry in the aftermath of what seemed to have been a close game. It seemed Heather wasn't the only one who wasn't ready to call it a day.
I could see how Dumbledore thought this was the event of the summer. It seemed like the whole of Wizarding Britain was here. I saw classmates from my year but didn't approach them for obvious reasons. I'd never been close to any of them and I was currently preoccupied with the task Dumbledore assigned me.
Music and the sounds of revelry filled the campsite, some instruments played manually and some animated by magic. Butterbeer and Fire Whiskey flowed freely. Like a repeat of the scene before the game, magic was used openly and Obliviators worked overtime to suppress the minority of Muggle families at the campsite.
I thought I was the only one who noticed that aspect of the celebrations but to be fair to them, Heather and Hermione seemed uncomfortable with it as well. That's when Heather had a great idea. Seemingly inspired by a glance at her dog, Heather suggested we pull a prank…
"C'mon, It'll be fun," She implored, trying to corrupt me to the prank side of the Force.
It was effective, mostly because I didn't need much convincing to pull a prank on behalf of the Muggles.
The prank started out small, with me sending discreet color-changing spells at the Obliviators as they worked. It grew as we traversed the campsite but I kept my spellwork relatively harmless and solely directed at the Wizards who were blatantly disregarding the Statute of Secrecy.
A bit of Transfiguration here and there to give some offenders innocently exaggerated animal parts. A Slippery Jinx on a bottle of Fire Whiskey or two. A conjured ice cube or three that I levitated down a Witch's robes. The worst I did was cast Petrificus Totalus on the Wizards I saw directly targetting the Muggles. I left them frozen for the Aurors to find, not that they would do anything to punish them. It was mostly for the inconvenience.
Most of my charms and jinxes were taken in good fun. The Wizards laughed off their new rabbit ears or elephant's trunk and simply undid my Transfiguration after a bit of effort. The ice cube trick received a squeal of surprise but not much more. The petrified Muggle-baiters couldn't react for obvious reasons. The worst reaction I got was from the Slippery Jinx. It resulted in a broken bottle and I quickly decided it was best for us to vacate the area before drunken annoyance was directed our way.
Heather was practically cackling as we walked through the campgrounds, pranking Wizards and Witches and just generally increasing the chaos. Padfoot was leaning against my side, panting in a way that genuinely felt as if he was a Human laughing… Somehow. Even Hermione got in on the fun, suggesting spells and jinxes for me to try.
The older Weasleys returned to their tent a while ago but the younger half of the family stuck with us. God knows why the Weasley parents trusted me with their most troublesome children. Maybe they thought I was responsible enough to keep them in line because Dumbledore vouched for me. Or maybe they just wanted some time to themselves. I certainly would if the twins were my kids.
It immediately backfired, though, because the twins quickly goaded Ron into casting a spell (as a test, one of them whispered to me). When no consequences presented themselves for Ron's usage of underage magic, the twins joined in on our campsite pranking spree.
Thanks to Ron's bold 'sacrifice', we quickly came to the realization that there was too much magic in the air for the Trace to effectively track underage spellcasters. Heather and the youngest Weasley (Ginny! I finally learned her name!) eagerly joined me and the twins as well. Even Hermione was drafted into the fun for a jinx or two.
I might've protested but I only signed up to watch Heather and Hermione. So long as the twins didn't bring too much trouble onto us, they were free to do what they wanted. And honestly, I was too impressed with the innovative way they applied spells to pranks to truly censure them.
The sun was well into the process of setting when we reached the tent Heather's Godfather had provided for her. We'd taken a circuitous route back, taking our time to see and prank the rest of the campsite. If we'd taken a direct route, it would've taken maybe half as long as it did, but none of us regretted the extra time wasted.
The campsite lit up with the coming darkness. People crowded around campfires or underneath the light of charmed Bluebell flames. The campsite looked like even more of a wonderland at night, like some twisted Wizarding idea of a circus with flamboyant fabric tents that rose multiple stories above the rest and enough colorful lights to make the mist of the moor glow.
Heather's tent was nothing special to look at compared to those around it. It was circular and came to a point at the tip, forming a cone. The fabric of the tent was made from some sort of hide and the whole thing looked handcrafted with a level of care that astounded me.
"It's an authentic Sioux Tepee," Heather informed me when I asked. "That what Sir-… er, My Godfather said anyway."
"Fascinating…" I said, admiring the tent.
Padfoot barked proudly. I continued inspecting the tent as the Weasleys with us began to set up a campfire in front of it. It really was a masterwork of craftsmanship and charmwork. To the point that I couldn't even begin to decipher all of the enchantments on the temporary structure. I could sense the enlarging charms and the charms that controlled the tent's temperature. Almost all of the other enchantments on the structure were too complex for me to easily decipher at first touch.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, Hermione accompanied me as I walked around the tent and examined it, trailing along behind me almost like a little duckling. She watched me do my thing for a while, trying to figure out what that thing was. Eventually, Hermione's curiosity won out over her ability to stay silent. I had a feeling that that happened often.
"What are you doing?" She asked.
"Trying to figure out how this tepee was made," I answered.
"How?" Hermione blurted out somewhat rudely, curiosity overcoming courtesy. "Are you using Magesight or something?"
"No, I'm pretty sure Magesight is a myth…" I said, distracted slightly by a particularly interesting matrix of spellwork.
Hermione seemed to be getting irritated by my distracted half-answer, "Then how?!"
"By touch and feel," I explained more thoroughly. "See how I'm constantly keeping contact with the object I want to examine? It's a bit of a tricky skill to truly develop but all Wizards and Witches can feel the magic in an item. Think about how it felt when Olivander had you trying different wands. If you understand enough about Magic Theory, you can sort of feel the kinds of spells or other magic on an object and tell them apart from that…"
"Teach me!" Hermione demanded, once again forgetting her manners but in an adorably excited-to-learn kind of way.
I chuckled and motioned her over to me. Taking her hand, I placed it on the side of the tepee beneath mine. Her face scrunched up cutely and I knew she was trying to force herself to feel what I'd described.
"Don't force it," I advised. "Here, take out your wand. Now, just let yourself relax and focus on calling upon your magic but not using it."
When I saw Hermione try to do as I'd said, I added some more guidance, "Each spell has a unique feel to it. Sort of like a frequency or sometimes even a song. Do you feel the way some of the magic forms what almost feels like a vacuum in one place? That's the enlarging charm for the tent's internal space. That's what makes the tent bigger on the inside."
"Feel the part that feels like…" I struggled to find the correct words. "Like that one part in Fantasia that everyone remembers? The part with the brooms and mops and stuff? That's the animation charm that allows the tent to set itself up."
"Wow…" Hermione whispered breathlessly. "This is amazing… I've never even thought to pay attention to these sensations but now that you've brought them to my attention, I can remember feeling them everywhere!"
I smirked, "Yup, that'll happen. The first time I knew what I was actually feeling there, I ended up holding onto Chocolate Frog for the entire day, trying to figure out how they gave a piece of chocolate life."
Hermione turned to gape at me, "Chocolate Frogs are alive?!"
"Not alive, just animated. There's a big difference as it turns out," I corrected. "C'mon, let's see if you can sense anything differently from inside the tent."
1 to Enchanting for Deepening Your Understanding of Sensing Magic Enchanting 291=30/100
2 to Teaching for Teaching Hermione an Essential Magical Skill
Teaching 322=34
Your Social Skill is Now Tier 2
She followed me back around to the front of the tent and we entered through the small flap there. Heather, seeing us go in alone, grew a teasing grin on her face and moved to follow us. We didn't notice her presence until she spoke.
"My, what do we have here~? Are you two lovebirds trying to sneak off and get some time alone together~? Aren't you supposed to be chaperoning me, Atlas~? This doesn't seem very ~responsible~" Heather teased.
Hermione rolled her eyes, "Honestly, Heather, Atlas was just showing me something."
"Oh~?" Heather's grin grew into a knowing smirk.
"N-Not like that!" Hermione stuttered. "He was showing me how to sense magic!"
"Well, I certainly sense magic in the air~"
I couldn't help but enjoy the chemistry between the two girls and the way they played off each other. Our purpose for entering the tent was forgotten thanks to Heather but I didn't mind all that much. I let her tease Hermione for a bit as I looked around the tent.
Of course, that plan was almost immediately derailed by a cacophony of noise from outside. This wasn't the Wizarding chaos that we'd grown accustomed to from the campsite. This was violence and panic. A monumental explosion rocked the air even inside the tent and I felt the telltale signs of a stampeding mob shaking the earth.
Heather moved faster than I could track, instantly dropping her teasing and getting serious. She peeked her head out of the tent's flap and I followed close behind her, looking out over her shorter frame. The sight that greeted my eyes reflected the chaotic noises we'd heard from inside.
People were running for their lives. They raced past our tent, not even looking back or paying attention to those who'd fallen around them. Thankfully, no one was trampled over… No one that we saw, at least.
The Weasleys were nowhere in sight. The campfire they'd set up in front of the tent was kicked into still-burning debris that littered the grass of the moor, spreading quickly. Quick thinking from Heather put out the flames before they could spread further and trap us in the tent.
A darkly-robed, masked man crossed into our field of vision and instantly set about burning tents, hexing the fleeing people, and generally creating havoc. I pulled Heather back into the tent before the man could see us, cursing under my breath.
"We have to help!" Heather declared, frantic but determined.
"That was a Death Eater!" I hissed at her. "If they recognize you, they'll drop anything they're doing to go after you. And that's not even mentioning the danger of trying to help in an already chaotic situation. There's no guarantee that the Aurors will see us as the good guys, even if we're trying to help."
The mention of Death Eaters just seemed to further firm Heather's determination, "That's all the more reason we should be out there fighting!"
I took a step back to just look at her. From the look on her face, I knew there would be no convincing her otherwise. She was deadset on helping people, on doing something. And it wasn't like I was going to stun her and apparate us out of here. I had a feeling Dumbledore wouldn't quite be happy with me for that, even if it was to keep Heather safe. But… he wouldn't be happy with me for letting her do this alone either.
Observe Heather Potter
Title: Girl-Who-Lived
Combat Skill (T5)
Magic Skill (T2)
Social Skill (T3)
Creation Skill (T1)
Oh, come on… Why did Heather's Skills look more impressive than mine? Even with my recent Social Tier increase, the total of her combined Tiers was 11 to my 10. Well, I couldn't see her Discipline levels so maybe they weren't actually as high as her Tiers led me to believe. But her Combat Skill was kind of ridiculous, no matter what. I guess that's what being in life-or-death situations since you were one year old gets you.
Still, that did change things a bit. I now had firm evidence that Heather could keep herself safe in a fight. Hell, she might keep me safe in a fight. And a not-so-small part of me did want to help… I could hardly imagine the horrors Death Eaters would visit upon the Muggles in the campsite if they found them.
"… Okay," I eventually agreed. "If you're going to do this, you should at least do it with an adult on your side. Well… someone who passes for an adult if you squint enough… But you stick close to me. And if I tell you to cut and run, you do. Even if it means leaving me behind. Put yours and Hermione's safety first, okay?"
I looked over at Hermione and was utterly unsurprised to see the same determination on her face as on Heather's. She clearly didn't become best friends with the Girl-Who-Lived by being a coward.
Padfoot woofed, drawing our attention to him. Somehow, he had the same determined look on his dumb doggy face. I was past the point of questioning how Human Padfoot seemed. Maybe he was just a frighteningly intelligent familiar like Shadow was.
"Yeah, buddy," I said. "Protect your girls for me. Make sure, no matter what, that Heather and Hermione get out of here alive."
"Stop with the defeatist talk!" Heather scolded me. "We're all making it out of here alive! And we're going to help others do the same! Fucking Death Eater bastards picked the wrong after-party!"
"Language, Heather," Hermione chided gently but it was easy to tell her heart wasn't in it.
Still, it made me laugh enough to dismiss the last of my nerves. We were doing this. I was doing this. I'd been expecting danger this year. I just hadn't expected it so soon. Red-hot blood began to pump through my veins. I wasn't going to back down now that we'd gotten this far…
"Right… Let's go," I said, moving to the tent flap ahead of Heather and Hermione.
I peeked my head out of the tent first, planning on dutifully doing my duty as a meatshield if it immediately came to that. I saw nothing on the other side. The stampeding mob of people, Magical and Muggle alike, had already passed. The Death Eater we'd seen had moved on as well. All that was left in their wake was a mess of burned-out tents and a few motionless bodies.
The sight of the bodies steeled my determination. Based on their clothing, there was a good chance they were Muggles or at least Muggle-born. And I couldn't tell if they were alive or just unconscious. Before I knew what I was doing, I was standing over the closest one, checking their pulse. I found nothing.
The next faired better. There was a pulse but it was weak. I cast the few medical spells I knew, hoping to make them more comfortable and promising myself to research healing more in the future.
Actions Acknowledged… New Discipline Unlocked… Calculating Preexisting Progress… Healing 25/100
AN: Forgot to make a Healing Discipline lol. I decided to put it under Combat for those who are interested. It could've gone under Magic as well but I feel like there will be enough Disciplines crowding that category in the future (I.E. Wandless Magic, Dark Arts, Illusion, etc.)
Not the time, System… I stabilized the second body and continued my work, securing a third. Once the bodies were dealt with, I raised my wand to the sky and shot off red sparks in the shape of a cross. Even Wizards knew the symbol of the Red Cross, right? I just had to hope the Death Eaters wouldn't find it before the Aurors did.
I threw up a quick and dirty ward set just to be safe, burning Runes into the grass around the bodies. It was just an ill-intent ward and a hasty magical shield though. I didn't feel like we had time for much more.
We kept moving, wands drawn and ready. Padfoot and I took point as we walked through the campsite that now looked like the setting of an apocalypse. In the distance, we could see fires still raging amongst some of the tents as we passed tents that were already ash and debris.
I nervously twirled my wand, just needing something to do with my hands. Thankfully, we didn't pass any more bodies. It gave me the tiniest bit of hope that most people had escaped the riot before they could meet an unfortunate fate like those we'd already come across.
Smoke from the fires added to the mist of the moor, further obscuring our vision as we pressed on. We heard screams from the hazy darkness, some far and some close. We headed for the one that sounded closest.
As we grew closer to the scream, a silhouette appeared in the haze. We instantly raised our guard but still crept closer. The silhouette revealed a figure. Dark robes and a mask made the person's allegiance clear. As did the fact that they were standing over a prone body, aiming at it with their wand and cackling as it screamed.
A blast of red light streamed at the Death Eater from behind me. I barely had time to process that Heather had cast the Disarming Spell silently - and powerfully, at that - before the Death Eater was sent flying back and their wand went flying. I followed up her spell with a Stupefy at the disabled Death Eater before they could react to the first spell.
Heather and Hermione instantly went to the victim's side, helping him stand. He was twitching vigorously as he was helped up, tears streaming down his face along with all the other distasteful effects of being under Crucio. He was in poor condition but seemed able to walk with considerable effort.
"T-T-T-Thank y-y-you…" He stuttered, already stumbling away. None of us stopped him. It was obvious why he would want to get out of here as quickly as he possibly could and we weren't done yet. The only thing we could do was let him go.
Tightly controlled rage showed on Heather's face as she watched the man limp off. She didn't say anything though, simply turning toward another scream and taking off in a jog. Hermione, Padfoot, and I joined her, similarly silent and serious. A shrill, sobbing, feminine scream split through the chaos of the night and we sped up even more.
Soon enough, we arrived at the scene. Several Death Eaters - four, with one as the obvious leader - stood in a loose line before a young girl who looked just a year or two younger than Heather and Hermione. She was on the ground, scrambling backward on her butt as they closed in on her. The Death Eaters just chuckled at her panic and even though they were wearing masks, I could tell their faces were twisted into cruel grins beneath.
The Death Eater at the front petrified the girl with a spell and went about fiddling with his robes. Their intentions quickly became obvious with that reveal and pure anger, dark and violent, surfaced in my heart. They wanted this poor girl aware and conscious of what they were about to do. They wanted her to suffer…
Before I could think twice, I began moving quicker than I ever had before. My wand swished twice in seemingly the same motion, once in a zigzag and once with a sharp slash. My mind instantly called upon some of the more violent and permanent spells I knew, the smoothness of my movements enhanced by the System.
There was a vicious crack as if reality itself was momentarily torn asunder and the three Death Eaters closest to us exploded into showers of gore and heat. The last remaining Death Eater didn't even get to react before my second spell, a darkly-charged Cutting Curse, severed his arm and sliced deep into his back. He fell backward despite the force of my spell and I blinked, only to find myself standing above him, barely aware that I'd moved.
It was like I was in a dark trance of retribution and righteous rage. I loomed above the fallen Death Eater, a dark silhouette in his fading vision. My face, only faintly illuminated by the flickering fires of the campsite around us, was set in a stony, blank expression.
"B-B-Bella-…" He stuttered, shaking in fear from whatever his dying mind had come up with to explain the last thing he would see.
I didn't even let him finish. My wand slashed again and I left him to bleed out on the grass with his throat now slit. With all the threats taken care of, the dark trance that had taken over me faded into the background and I went to check on and revive the young girl.
"Y-You killed them…" I heard Hermione whisper behind me.
I had. And I didn't feel an ounce of remorse. This was justice in my mind. Dark, yes, but deserved. Hell, better than they deserved, a dark part of my mind whispered. Scum like them should have suffered the same way they were going to make their victims suffer.
I pushed that thought away, less influenced by the dark nature of my magic now that the trance had passed, "I have no patience for rapists and sadistic bullies."
"B-But-…"
"Hermione, this is a conversation we can have later," I cut off Hermione's protest with a firm voice. "Right now, there is a victim we need to tend to. Someone more deserving of our attention, consideration, and care."
"… Yes, Atlas," Hermione seemed to at least somewhat realize how insensitive she was being. I don't think she was entirely against me killing the Death Eaters either, just shocked at the brutality of it all.
I turned to the poor frozen girl and went about reviving her. The worst part was they'd only petrified her, not stunned. I could still see the light in her eyes. She would have been completely conscious of the actions that could have followed if we weren't there to stop the Death Eaters. Thankfully, that also meant reviving her was only a matter of a simple counter-charm.
Her body went limp as the counter-charm took effect. She lay there for a moment, seemingly stunned, before jackknifing herself upright and launching herself toward me. I could barely react before I found myself being hugged and bowled over by a hundred-plus pounds of thankful teenage girl.
The reason she was targeted in this way was obvious. She was a beautiful young girl and there was just something else that seemed to call out to my soul. A sort of energy poured off her uncontrollably, one laced with Lust and Desire. It didn't take long for me to realize she was a Veela.
Even without her Allure, she was gorgeous though. Long, silky blonde hair like spun white gold hung around her head like a halo. Her icy-blue eyes were wet with tears and still seemed to sparkle. Plump pink lips parted and quivered prettily. Looking at her, I was suddenly struck by how cute a perfectly shaped button nose could be, slightly upturned and oh-so perky.
Spoiler: Gabrielle Delacour
~Heather's age in this AU (16)
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Then she spoke French with a voice as beautiful as she was, "M-Merci… Merci, Mon Ange…"
I patted her back as she buried her face in my chest, fighting hard to ignore her Allure and retain control of my body, "N-No… No problem. M-Maybe dial back the Allure though?"
"Ah!" She gasped, showing that she spoke very passable if accented English. "Of course, of course, anything for Mon Ange!"
The almost overwhelming pull of desire and infatuation she was emitting faded slightly and I breathed a sigh of relief, "That's better. What's your name, sweetheart?"
"Gabrielle… Gabrielle Delacour…"
She drew her head back slightly and gazed deeply into my eyes. I could have sworn I felt something click into place inside her soul. Her eyes widened and for a moment, it was like she was drawn to me just as her Allure drew me to her. She leaned forward, breathless lips parting slightly.
Her lips just barely brushed against mine before sudden noises forced us apart. But that brief contact seemed to be enough for whatever Gabrielle was experiencing to fully take hold of her. Electricity and magic passed between us with that touch. It was almost as if I could sense something finalize and settle deep within her, something that led back to me.
Still, we were forced apart. The night took on a green hue around us. I looked around to see Heather and Hermione gaping at the sky, seemingly ignorant of the moment me and Gabrielle had just shared. I considered how that might have been a good thing as I followed their gazes, looking just in time to see the Dark Mark rise over the campsite…
7: Fleur/Heather POV Interlude
Fleur Delacour ran frantically through the British campgrounds, dodging mayhem and shouting for her sister, "Gabby!? Gabby?! Gabrielle! Où es-tu?!"
Spoiler: Fleur Delacour
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It was as if her world was falling apart. The chaos around her didn't help her mental state. She knew she should have never come to these accursed islands. It was bad enough she'd be spending most of the year here for the tournament but she'd always been soft on her sister and Gabrielle had convinced her Papa to allow them to attend the Quidditch World Cup here as well. Just look where that got them…
They were treated poorly by the British. As less than second-class citizens - mere objects really - simply for the fact of their Veela heritage. If not for Fleur's quick wand hand and their father's political connections, she was sure they would have been accosted even more than they already had been. Even with those advantages, Fleur hadn't felt safe ever since she stepped foot on British soil.
She and Gabrielle had both heard horror stories in the Veela coven of the more backward magical countries such as Britain or Russia. The countries where discrimination by blood and species was still firmly entrenched and even enforced by the governments. Stories of unlucky Veela who were claimed by some Dark, inbred Pure-Blood and used as sex slaves or breeding stock. Stories where nothing could be done on the Veela's behalf because those corrupt countries would rather defend their own bad apples instead of delivering justice.
She'd previously dismissed them as over-exaggerations. Surely, no country in Europe could be that bad… right? Now, she was kicking herself for her naivety.
Wizarding Britain was that bad… Oh, not all of it. Fleur met several people she would have gladly called friends back in France. But they did not diminish the hatred, arrogance, ill manners, and crude lust that she and Gabrielle had found so pervasive in British Wizarding society.
She'd never experienced anything like it in France, nor the other European countries she'd vacationed in such as Germany and Italy. As a Veela, she was used to men and women drooling over her appearance and Allure, though in Britain it was as if the effectiveness of those aspects of herself were multiplied. Many sneered at them as well, looking at her and Gabrielle as if they were something less than Human even as they lusted after the two of them.
Then there were the persistent, unwanted, and often violent advances of British potential suitors. She and Gabrielle had nearly been assaulted twice in a single afternoon! It was outrageous!
One of the almost-assailants even said she'd been asking for it! Needless to say, Fleur made sure to treat him to Maman's special curse. The one that rocketed a man's manhood inside of his body and made the disgusting little thing stay there.
Word quickly spread about Fleur's ruthless wandwork and she and Gabrielle were left relatively unbothered after that. Of course, there were still people who drooled over them or were merely persistent with their advances. But a threatening point of her wand was enough to make them back down, leaving Fleur and Gabrielle free to enjoy themselves for most of the evening.
But now, Fleur's worst nightmares were coming true. Chaos had broken out throughout the campgrounds. She and Gabrielle had been separated. Fleur had been nearly assaulted again, this time by a masked and robed man whose visage sent shivers of dread down her spine. Even a young French woman like Fleur knew about Britain's Death Eater problem. It had been in her father's briefing before they'd been allowed to go to the World Cup alone. They'd been assured it wasn't likely to be a problem though.
It was very much a problem. One that might now take Fleur's dear sister away from her. These Death Eaters had decided that an international Wizarding event set in a Muggle locale was the perfect venue for their drunken 'fun'.
She didn't know how many there were. She didn't know if they had a goal other than destruction and mayhem. But Fleur did know that she and Gabrielle would be prime targets for the Death Eaters' cruelty. These Dark pieces of shit were exactly the type of people those stories had warned them about. Maybe worse…
And so, Fleur searched and searched the ruined and burning campsite, fear building in her heart with each passing second and clouding her mind. She could defend herself. She'd done so multiple times so far, cursing and hexing the Death Eater who tried to assault her into painful unconsciousness. She'd even had to stun a poor, weak-minded soul who fell to her Allure and tried to cling to her in the chaos and confusion.
Gabrielle was not so blessed with Fleur's skills, nor her speed with a wand. She was an innocent child, pure of heart and carefree when it came to her studies. She did not feel the driving need to prove herself as more than a pretty face that Fleur did. Gabrielle's talents simply lay in other subjects and there was usually nothing wrong with that.
Now, though, Fleur was chilled to the bone at the thought of her baby sister being unable to defend herself against fully-trained, Dark adults. Internally, Fleur promised herself that Gabrielle would be attending all future dueling classes with her if-… when they made it out of this.
Fleur tried to keep herself optimistic, tried to keep her hope from dying in her breast. But that was not an easy task when she looked around. Fires consumed tents and stalls alike, illuminating the night with an eerie yellow glow and creating a haze of smoke that burned her eyes. Every now and then, she would come across a body lying prone on the ground. It hurt her heart that she couldn't even spare a second to check if they were alive.
But Gabrielle came first. Every second wasted was another second that Gabrielle could be… could be… Fleur couldn't even finish the thought. It was too tragic to even consider. It wouldn't happen. It couldn't. Or Fleur would make sure Britain felt the wrath of the whole Veela species.
The sky took on a green tint. Fleur barely noticed, only looking for a moment to see that vile symbol materialize from smoke above the campsite. She heard the telltale pops of apparation, catching sight of one to see a Death Eater fleeing.
Still, she couldn't breathe a sigh of relief. What if one of them had taken Gabrielle with them? So her desperate search continued as the campsite fell into an uneasy peace with the Death Eaters' departure. She ran and ran until her lungs heaved with each breath. And then she felt a familiar flare of Allure and aura and salvation appeared before her eyes.
"Gabrielle!" Fleur cried, sliding to a stop on her knees and engulfing her dear sister in a smothering hug, coincidentally tearing Gabrielle from the friendly grasp of another. Fleur wouldn't have cared about that even if she did notice though, too relieved to have her sister back in her arms.
"Tu vas bien?! As-tu été blessée?!" Fleur asked in frantic French, leaning back to fret and look over Gabrielle.
[Translation (I don't speak French but I did my best): "Are you okay?! Were you hurt?!"]
Gabrielle tried to soothe her worried older sister, "I am fine, Fleur, thanks to Mon Sauveur…"
For the first time, Fleur noticed that Gabrielle hadn't been alone. She pulled the younger Veela into her breast protectively and turned her gaze onto the three others nearby.
Two were female and looked to be about Gabrielle's age. The last was male and looked the same age as Fleur herself. Maybe a year older… Oh, and there was a dog as well but Fleur dismissed it as unimportant for now.
Her eyes darted between the two girls for a brief moment. They were pretty, Fleur supposed, but their beauty had nothing on Veela like Gabrielle and herself. Though they had their own charms. Especially in the black-haired girl's short and curvy stature and the way the slightly-taller girl was practically pear-shaped.
Still, Fleur's eyes quickly returned to the one closest to them, the older male. He was reasonably tall, half of a head taller than Fleur's already considerable height. His hair was jet-black with white highlights, long but kept in a messy bun-ponytail-hybrid to keep it from getting in the way. His facial features were soft and elegant, almost regal. A pair of scholarly glasses framed his vibrantly violet eyes.
Considering that Gabrielle replied to her in English, these three were most likely British. Which admittedly was why Fleur was so wary of the older man. But she didn't like how Gabrielle was staring dreamily at him either. The small, sheepishly relieved smile on his face told Fleur everything she needed to know about him.
Her eyes narrowed into a glare. She'd heard tales of men manufacturing scenarios to earn a Veela's gratitude and then taking advantage of it. With her mind clouded by protectiveness and desperation to never lose her sister again, Fleur assumed she had all the facts of the situation without asking a single question.
Seeing her glare, the man excused himself, "Well, I guess we should be going. You're her sister or something, right? In that case, I doubt I have to ask you to take care of Gabrielle. She's just been through something rough. She'll need your support."
"Yes, I will. Your assistance," Fleur spat. "Is no longer needed."
The man smiled awkwardly and turned to leave with his two companions. Gabrielle reached for his retreating back but Fleur held her fast, "But-…"
"Do not worry, Gabby," Fleur cooed, hugging her tightly. "I am here."
"You do not understand, Fleur…" Gabrielle said, looking longingly at the three figures as they disappeared into the smoke and mist of the ruined campsite. "I am bonded to Mon Ange…"
"He did what!?" Fleur hissed furiously. "I knew it! That English bastard!"
Gabrielle shook her head sadly, already feeling the loss of her savior in her heart, "Non, Fleur, he did nothing. I was the one to initiate the bond. I owe him the ultimate debt. Not only that but… His soul… It calls out to me…"
"Gabby, you are not thinking straight," Fleur denied. "You have just been through something traumatic. Come, let's get home. I'm sure Maman will know just what to say."
At any other time, Fleur would've been happy to see Gabrielle pout, but after everything that happened tonight, it just tore at her heartstrings. Especially since Gabrielle was currently pouting in defense of a scheming, manipulative British Wizard.
"You were not here, Fleur," Gabrielle's unintentionally cutting words made her flinch. "You did not see him come to my aid like a dark avenging angel. He saved my life and my purity, Fleur. After that, I could offer him nothing less than myself."
Fleur shook her head, "You are too innocent for your own good, Gabby. He must have arranged the whole situation to gain your trust."
Gabrielle laughed, the sound like tinkling bells that would have normally warmed Fleur's heart, "He killed them, Fleur. Their remains are still warm, and their blood still flows. He could not have arranged this. Not without being the force behind the riot itself."
For the first time, Fleur noticed the carnage around the small clearing they were in. The three ruined bodies that had been reduced to naught but gore. The burnt grass around their final resting place. And the mostly intact body, still bleeding from a vicious slash to the neck.
Her assumption of what happened wavered in Fleur's mind. Could she have been mistaken? No, her stubbornness persisted, firming itself into mental concrete.
He was just that good. A master manipulator. Some kind of… master baiter… He'd completely fooled innocent Gabrielle. But he wouldn't fool her. Fleur would save her sister from the clutches of this manipulative man. She would never let Gabrielle be taken away from her again…
IIIII
"Sooooooo…" Heather drawled. "Tonight's really been something, huh?"
"That it has," Hermione agreed with a sigh, watching as Atlas disappeared with the telltale twisting of space and pop of apparation.
Atlas hadn't been too keen on sticking around after the riot rounded itself up. After the Dark Mark appeared in the sky, all of the Death Eaters terrorizing the campsite fled. Something they were all thankful for but it did feel a little off. Why would the Death Eaters flee when their own mark was set off?
Maybe it had something to do with the sudden influx of Aurors and Ministry staff that followed its appearance. Almost as if the Dark Mark was what finally crossed the line. Like everything before it appeared was harmless rabble-rousing… Needless to say, it left a poor taste in their mouths.
So after Atlas handed off the girl they'd saved to her sister, they'd taken their leave from the Quidditch World Cup. Heather and Hermione directed him back to the Burrow to hopefully reunite with the Weasleys who they'd been separated from in the chaos. That hope was fulfilled with tight, smothering hugs from Mrs. Weasley upon their arrival.
The younger Weasleys managed to find the rest of their family during the riot. With his family safe and accounted for, Arthur went to join the Ministry-backed force that was trying to restore order. Mrs. Weasley had decided that it wasn't worth waiting for the portkey to take them home in the morning and had herself and her three oldest side-apparate everyone back to the Burrow. She'd been worried sick about Heather and Hermione but trusted Atlas to keep them safe because "Dumbledore sent him".
Heather and Hermione tactfully avoided telling Mrs. Weasley about the fact that they had intentionally put themselves in danger. It had all ended well and they decided to leave it at that.
Everyone else had gone to sleep after a hectic day and evening. Heather and Hermione stayed up, unable to sleep. They eventually ended up sneaking out of the Burrow together, thankful that all of the Weasleys could outsleep the dead and unaware that a certain Animagus followed to keep vigil over them. They went to a little private grove on the Weasley's property that Ginny had shown them, climbed a tree, and just watched the stars while they talked.
"… You wanna talk about it?" Heather asked, broaching the subject that she knew was still lingering on Hermione's mind.
"I don't know what you're referring to," Hermione denied unconvincingly.
"C'mon, 'Mie, you know what I'm talking about. If it makes you feel better, it's kinda bothering me too…" Heather admitted.
Hermione was silent for a moment, looking around the grove below them before she spoke in a quiet voice, "He killed them."
"He did," Heather agreed with a sigh as if just saying that was enough to lift a weight from her shoulders. "Can't say they didn't deserve it though."
"That's not the point and you know it, Heather," Hermione huffed. "One person shouldn't just be able to play judge, jury, and executioner."
Heather hesitated to voice her true opinion, knowing she didn't fully agree with her best friend on this subject, "Shouldn't they?"
Hermione quickly built up a full head of steam and was about to go off on a rant before she looked over and saw Heather looking at her with a surprisingly vulnerable expression on her face, "I-I… What do you mean?"
"This isn't the Muggle World, Hermione. We both know how backward Wizards and Witches are. We both know how corrupt they are as well. Would those Death Eaters have even faced consequences for their actions if it wasn't for Atlas?" Heather asked, not leaving any time for Hermione to answer before she continued.
"It wasn't like they were just shoplifting or something! They were actively trying to assault a girl… A girl our age… Just to cause her the most pain and humiliation possible before they probably would have killed her anyway! That's evil. They were evil. There's no other way to say it… I-I don't think I want to live in a world where they get away scot-free because Atlas wasn't there to punish them.
"A-And then there's me…" Heather said, trailing off.
"What about you?" Hermione asked compassionately, seeing how much this was affecting her friend.
"I'm a killer too, Hermione… I killed Quirrel when I was just thirteen."
Hermione protested, "That's not the same! He was possessed by Voldemort and it was in self-defense!"
"Isn't it?" Heather asked in a genuinely curious tone. "Those Death Eaters might not have been possessed but they did serve Voldemort at some point. And Atlas acted in defense of another. Shouldn't that be given just as much consideration as self-defense?"
"I… uh…" Hermione couldn't refute that point.
"If I'm not a murderer for killing Quirrel, neither is Atlas for killing those Death Eaters. If you think he should be damned for his actions, so should I," Heather asserted firmly.
"You're right," Hermione said after a long moment of consideration. "I could never judge you for doing what was necessary and I shouldn't try to judge Atlas for the same thing either.
"The Wizarding World isn't the same as the Muggle World. You're right about that as well. I can't just apply the logic I grew up with to situations in the Wizarding World and expect the same outcome. It's just… even after three years, this world feels so foreign at times."
"Yeah…" Heather sighed, her gaze returning to the stars above them. The two fell into a short silence before Heather spoke again, "Other than that, uh, small moral quandary, what do you think of our new Assistant Professor?"
Hermione nodded imperiously, "He seems very competent and knowledgable. I believe we will learn quite a bit from him in the coming year."
"Oh? Anything specific you want to learn from him?" Heather asked, faking innocence in order to further tease her best friend.
Hermione shot Heather a knowing glance, "Don't start, Heather. He's perfectly nice and let's just leave it at that. He'll be our professor in two weeks, for goodness sake. There's nothing more to it."
Heather laughed, "Ha! As if that isn't just a bonus for you, 'Mie. You can't fool me. I know all of your most hidden fantasies, remember? An older authority figure who is willing to give you extra-special guidance… Ring any bells? All that was missing from that scene in the Top Box was it being set in a library."
"Heather!" Hermione gasped as if scandalized, unable to continue hiding the blush that wanted to seep into her cheeks. "He was just reading to me to keep me from bothering him! Honestly, his focus was entirely on his book and furthering my understanding of Ancient Runes!"
Heather stared at her with a disbelieving deadpan, "Right. So not a single part of you was thinking about him teaching you in another way? Guiding you into womanhood, perhaps?"
"I-I don't see how that's relevant at all," Hermione's face took on a rosy hue that even Heather could see the appeal of - if only, a suppressed part of Heather's mind sighed.
'Actually', Heather continued that line of thought until a wicked grin grew on her face, "Maybe I wasn't asking for you. Maybe it's relevant to me instead."
"Wha-! Heather, no! I saw him fir-…" Hermione protested before her mind could catch up with her mouth, eventually trailing off upon seeing the knowing, teasing smirk on Heather's lips.
Heather shrugged nonchalantly, "Why not? It's not like Petunia ever gave me that part of the talk. If anything, I need his guidance more than you do."
With her mouth gaping open and closed like a fish, Hermione's mind stuttered. Eventually, she threw her hands in the air and said, "Fine! I like him! He's cute and smart and paid attention to me over you for once and-! And he's a teacher! Happy?"
"Yup~" Heather smirked, popping the 'p'. "But I was only, like, half-teasing. You're right, he's smart and cute in that 'bookworm' kind of way like you. I'm not gonna deny my attraction. Plus he didn't seem to care about my fame. I figure I could do worse for my first time. So I was kinda thinking we could, like… work together?"
Hermione looked ready to protest but Heather cut her off before she could, "Things are different in the Wizarding World, Mie, remember? Aren't, like, covens a thing? Just try and keep an open mind. I wouldn't do this without you…"
That deflated Hermione's protests. She fell quiet, considering Heather's words and trying to keep an open mind like she'd been asked. She absently tucked the mention of covens away in a corner of her mind for later research. They seemed important for some reason. A way to further protect Heather, perhaps?
Her Muggle upbringing had her wanting to decline Heather's offer to work together for a single man purely on principle. But this wasn't the Muggle World and she wasn't a Muggle. Would it truly be so bad to share such a monumental moment with Heather, her first and best friend? Wasn't it only right after everything else they'd been through together?
Finally, after a long, tense moment for Heather, Hermione gave a resolute nod, "Truce. I-… I might need your help anyway. I don't know the first thing about seducing a man. And it's not something you can just research in a book."
Internally, Heather was jumping for joy, but outwardly, she played it cool, "Sure it is, 'Mie. Doesn't your mom have any bodice rippers lying around? Ya know, like, those trashy romance novels? Petunia has dozens of them. Like, so many that it would be kinda worrying if she wasn't married to Vernon."
"No…?" Hermione innocently shook her head. "I don't think she does. At least, not that I've seen."
"Oh, you sweet summer child~" Heather teased. "She does. I can practically guarantee it. She probably just hides them so you aren't tainted by their filth~"
Hermione blushed but seemed determined to learn more. She was always excited to learn. Even things with… non-standard practical applications. Heather grinned and was happy to oblige. They spent the rest of the night like that, up in a tree and discussing the art of seduction as it was portrayed in cheap, trashy, romance novels.
In a shrub below them, a certain dog-shaped Wizard used his paws to cover his ears, stuck somewhere between whimpers of embarrassment and full-blown laughter. Sirius loved his Goddaughter but listening to her talk about bodice rippers like they were nonfiction was torture.
It was simultaneously hilarious and mortifying. He didn't even know if she was serious or not. Either his Goddaughter was pulling a masterful prank on her best friend or she truly believed everything she was saying. If it was the first one, she deserved a pranking medal of honor.
If - as Sirius was starting to suspect was more likely - it was the latter, Sirius would have to step up and do his embarrassing Godfatherly duties and set her straight… Or he could have someone else do it. Maybe his cousin Tonks? Yeah, she was a woman. Surely, she wouldn't further the two girls' misunderstanding of how romance worked… right?
IIIII
I ran a hand through my hair as I walked out of Dumbledore's office. It was already late when I arrived back at Hogwarts and now it was even later after I spent half an hour debriefing Dumbledore on everything that had happened at the World Cup. I was completely honest with him, of course. Including everything from my discontent with the Cup's locale to Heather's determination to help people during the riot.
He hadn't quite approved of our actions but he commended us on doing something to make a difference, even if we should have fled. Still, he considered the task he assigned me a success. Which was a good thing because it seemed that that was the trigger for my quest to complete itself.
Quest Completed: Boy-Who-Chaperoned Condition(s): Keep Heather Potter and Hermione Granger Safe Through the Duration of the Quidditch World Cup
Rewards: 2 to Defense, 5 to Attack, and 6 to Awareness
Defense 212=23/100, Attack 135=18/100, Awareness 136=19/100
And I'd leveled up outside of the quest as well. Along with two developments that were slightly concerning.
1 to Tactics, 3 to Focus, 3 to Dueling Tactics 191=20/100, Focus 203=23/100, Dueling 183=21/100
New Discipline Unlocked Due to Taking Your First Lives: Dark Arts
Dark Arts 21/100
Perk Unlocked x2
Dark Nature: Due to Your Heritage and the Natural Inclination of Your Magic, 50% Bonus to Dark Arts XP
Veela Bond: 3 to Seduction and Willpower, 1 to Influence, 2 to Luck, Soul-Bond-Esque Connection With Gabrielle Delacour, The Enmity of Fleur Delacour
Seduction 333=36/100, Willpower 313=34/100, Influence 31=4/100, Luck 322=34/100
Again… slightly concerning. Maybe the fact that I unlocked the Dark Arts Discipline after killing four people wasn't all that surprising, but the second perk certainly was. At least to me. I'd have to do some research on Veela and their bonds. Hopefully, it could stay in the background and me and Gabrielle could go our separate ways without any hard feelings.
It wasn't as if I was totally against the idea of having a magical creature of Lust and Attraction bonded to me. But I didn't know Gabrielle at all. And I would rather she not feel obligated to me just because I saved her.
That's how I found myself in the Hogwarts Library at just past midnight, searching for books on Veela. This place would always hold a special place in my heart and it was almost invigorating to be here so late. Thankfully, Madam Pince commuted during the summer and Professors didn't have a curfew.
With a Lumos spell on the tip of my wand, I walked the aisles of the Library after checking the catalog Pince kept at the front desk. The book I'd found in the catalog was called Vivacious Veela and should be… ah, there it was.
Even with Madam Pince gone, I didn't dare use the Summoning charm to find a book in the Library. There were just some things that you didn't do.
I secured my research material under my arm and began to make my way out of the Library. A flickering light from one of the many reading nooks in the Library caught my eye and held me up slightly. When I went to check it, I found a welcome sight.
"Can't sleep, Septima?" I asked, making her jump slightly in surprise.
Septima turned to me and smiled, "Atlas! You're back!"
For a moment, I was taken in by the scene in front of me. Septima had been hunched over a desk with papers and books scattered across its surface. When I surprised her, she leaned back, turning to face me as her light source illuminated her like a halo.
Her hair was up in a messy bun, kept out of her face as she worked on whatever she was working on. Her robes were slung across the back of the chair she was sitting in, revealing that she wore surprisingly modern-looking clothes underneath them. She looked so natural like this. So comfortable in her element. And upon seeing me, the fatigue seemed to wash off her face.
"That I am," I said, allowing a small smile to cross my face before I knew it. "Just figured I would fetch something to read since I'm back. For some reason, I can't imagine I'll have an easy time sleeping tonight. Too much energy left over from everything that happened today."
"Oh?" Septima cocked her head cutely. "What happened?"
I waved off her question, not wanting to retell the story so soon after telling Dumbledore, "Eh, nothing all that important. I'll tell you later. What are you working on?"
"Why do I feel like you aren't being completely truthful, Atlas?" Septima asked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. I just feigned innocence. "… Fine. I'm working on my lesson plans for the coming year. Like you, I could not find the will to sleep."
An idea struck me, "Hmm, can I cash in that rain check then?"
Septima's eyes lit up at my question, "Yes!… I-I mean… certainly, Atlas. I would be delighted to have another brilliant mind to go over my plans. And perhaps… have coffee with afterward…?"
"Sure," I agreed easily. "It sounds like we have a late night ahead of us. Should be fun."
"Yes, and while you check over my plans, you can tell me about what happened to you today," Septima said, her tone hinting that saying no wasn't an option.
I winced, "Do you really want to know? You'll hear about it in the Prophet in the morning anyway…"
Septima's look intensified. It wasn't quite a glare but it carried the same impact, the same implication that she was about to get very cross with me, "If what happened to you was important or dangerous enough to appear in the Prophet, I would rather hear it from your mouth first, Atlas. At least then I don't have to worry about the Ministry-approved spin on the story. Sit."
I didn't even realize I was obeying her abrupt order until I was sitting next to her. I chuckled, "Your 'stern teacher persona' really is something, Septima. Alright, pass me your first lesson plan and I'll tell you the story of my day. Dumbledore tasked me with chaperoning Heather Potter at the Quidditch World Cup-…"
Septima listened intently as I talked and explained everything that happened today. Like with Dumbledore, I didn't leave anything out but I was more loose and open with Septima due to our growing familiarity. I absently read through her plans as I spoke, borrowing her quill to mark things I wanted to address later.
All in all, it was the perfect way to unwind after an eventful day…
[AN: Okay, just a quick AN to address something because I know at least someone is going to mention it. Why didn't Fleur just use the Point-Me spell? One, because that would ruin that scene/introduction to Fleur's POV. Two, the Point-Me spell doesn't actually exist. The canon spell is the Four-Points spell and all it does is point toward North. Point-Me being a magical GPS is a fanon creation, which, like, I'm fine with but it didn't seem necessary in this situation. And Three, even if I was going to use it, Fleur would have no way of knowing that specific spell. Point-Me/Four-Points is a spell that Hermione invented to help Harry with the tournament. Cool? Cool.]
8: Lewd Beginnings
"-And that's how I ended up apparently bonded to a Veela…" I said, marking another of Septima's lesson plans to revisit later.
Septima bit her lower lip, worrying at it as she absorbed my story. When I said I told her everything, I meant everything. I obviously didn't spill the secret of the System but I told her about almost everything else, from the attraction I experienced toward Hermione and the strange reactions of the Malfoys to killing those Death Eaters and even to Gabrielle bonding herself to me.
A significant part of me was worried that I was ruining our relationship before it could get started by telling her all of that. But it was so nice to be able to open up to someone else that I couldn't resist. And I would rather be open and honest with her now before anything truly began to develop between us than for her to find out after we'd potentially started dating or otherwise involved.
I trusted Septima to not judge me too harshly or jump to conclusions. Even if she did seem to like me, she was a logical person at heart. I knew she wouldn't let her bias completely rule her mind.
"I see…" Septima eventually mumbled before clearing her throat, "Ahem… Well, I am glad to see that you're okay after such an eventful night."
"Yeah, tonight could have turned out much worse, even if I did have to kill for the first time…" I agreed, trailing off.
Septima treated the Death Eaters' deaths in a surprisingly callous manner, "They knew what they were doing when they put on those masks and terrorized a peaceful gathering, Atlas. Your actions protected someone's innocence - this 'Gabrielle' - from evil and cruelty. There is nothing shameful about that."
I nodded somberly, "I know. I don't regret my actions. I just always thought killing would be more difficult than that…"
"Quite," Septima pursed her lips. "Unfortunately, I don't have any experience in that field to comfort or quell your internal struggle, Atlas. Though I am willing to listen if you ever feel the need to talk about it."
"Thank you, Septima," I said.
A comfortable silence overtook us after that. I continued checking Septima's lesson plans, looking for opportunities to insert myself into her class that would yield positive results. As much as I wanted to spend time with her during the school year, I wasn't willing to disrupt her teaching to do so.
Septima seemed content to watch me work, tracing something with the tip of her finger. Eventually, she tapped a few times to get my attention and I noticed that the thing beneath her finger was the cover of the book I'd picked out tonight.
" Vivacious Veela?" She asked, giggling slightly. "If I didn't know about your adventures tonight, I would have assumed you chose this book for purely recreational purposes. It is for researching the Veela Bond you seem to have gained, yes?"
The fact that she could tease me somewhat about the subject gave me hope that our relationship wasn't doomed by tonight's events, "Yeah, I'm sure it's an… invigorating read… But I'm interested in it for what it can tell me about the situation I've found myself in."
"I'll admit I don't know much about Veela themselves," Septima led. "But their bonds are a subject that comes up occasionally in Arithmancy. In a theoretical sense, at least. I'm sure they are much more complicated than I know in practice."
"Any insight you could offer is helpful. I'm a bit adrift at sea here," I said.
"I could likely triangulate the position of your bonded with a bit of effort using Arithmancy," Septima offered. "Or calculate how much influence you now hold over her and her over you?"
I briefly stopped what I was doing to look at her queerly, "You're taking this remarkably well. Especially considering… Well, isn't this something of a date?"
Septima's face flushed but she didn't break eye contact with me, "I… would not be opposed to labeling this as such."
"And yet you are almost completely unfazed about me being bonded to a literal Veela," I said, my tone trying to make it clear that I was just stating an observation and not a judgment.
"Of course, Atlas," Septima looked at me as if I was stating the obvious. "I am 'unfazed' by your Veela Bond for the same reason I am 'unfazed' by what I believe to be Soul Resonance between you and Hermione Granger. To call me 'unfazed' would be inaccurate though. If anything, I am elated."
"Elated…? I don't think I follow," I motioned for her to explain.
"Despite how I may come across, Atlas, I am a very traditional woman when it comes to my ideal romantic relationship," Septima said. "I do not believe modern relationship values would agree with me."
"That just leads me to believe you should be disappointed by my… uh, dalliances outside our potential relationship. I typically don't think of polygamy when I think 'traditional'," I replied.
"Ah," Septima nodded as if she'd had an epiphany. "I see the source of your confusion. When I say traditional, I mean traditional in the Wizarding sense, not Muggle."
It was at times like this that I was reminded Septima was still very much a Pure-Blood, "There's a difference?"
"Of course there is. While Muggles tend to favor monogamy over all else - outside of some religions -, Wizards used to be much more flexible when it came to romantic relationships. Pure-Bloods especially. Monogamy has only become common practice in the Wizarding World within the last couple of centuries," Septima naturally fell into her 'lecture mode'.
She continued, "This difference in culture was typically caused by the way magical power and personal potency tended to form hierarchies in the magical world that are not present among Muggles. Polygamy is actually how most Wizarding Houses were originally founded. Ancient covens formed around a powerful Witch or Wizard and the coven took on a shared name, which led directly to the formation of Pure-Blood lines that are still around today.
"Personally, I do not subscribe to the idea that monogamy is inherently more equal. I am also, quite frankly, attracted to power and intelligence. Two things you have in spades, Atlas, as shown by your ability to bond with a Veela, and the fact that you Resonated with the 'Brightest Witch of Her Generation' and seem to have partially Resonated with the Girl-Who-Lived.
"I am 'unfazed' - read: elated - by your dalliances because, in my mind, they are signs of desirability and power. They demonstrate that I've made the correct choice in finally pursuing my… deliciously sinful… attraction to a former student," Septima finished with a vicious blush.
"I… don't quite know how to respond to that…" I said, stunned almost speechless.
"You could… kiss me…?" Septima suggested nervously, adjusting her glasses and not meeting my eyes.
That seemed like a very good idea to me at the moment. To the point that I leaned in, surprising Septima with a cupped hand on her cheek. Her eyes darted up to meet mine, flashing with nervous anticipation. I crossed the rest of the distance between us, tenderly locking her lips with mine.
Her eyes fluttered closed. Mine followed soon after. We lost ourselves in the kiss. Neither of us really knew what we were doing, acting purely off of instinct and enthusiasm. Our movements were awkward and stunted. I'd never felt anything more perfect than Septima's lips.
My free hand reached blindly, eventually finding her hand and intertwining our fingers. Septima squeaked into the kiss and my tongue seized the slight opening of her lips as if I had done this a thousand times before.
Electricity flowed between our hesitantly dueling tongues. We steadily gained confidence and momentum as our embrace persisted. The next thing I knew, Septima had somehow made her way into my lap. She straddled me in the chair, pressing the heat of her core onto mine.
The twitch of my member against her made Septima gasp and break the kiss, "A-Atlas? What is that?"
Still recovering myself, one word was all I could respond with, "Me…"
Even through my pants and Septima's form-fitting slacks, my arousal was readily apparent. It snaked down one of my pant legs, conveniently the one Septima was resting on, twitching and throbbing in its fabric prison. Septima tentatively rubbed her crotch along my length, looking down and trying to get a good approximation of my size.
I'd never given much thought to my endowment. As a teenager in puberty, I measured myself once or twice but stopped once I hit the mark the other boys in my dormitory deemed average. I continued to grow past that mark. A quick estimate put me at about 8 inches or so but again, I hadn't given the subject much further thought. I had always found better things to do than participate in the dick-measuring contests of my peers.
"M-May I?" Septima asked.
"Only if I can return the favor."
She nodded nervously, slowly sliding off of my lap to rest on her knees between my legs. I slid the chair back to give her room. She stared at the bulge in my pants, lightly running her hands up and down my thighs as if to get used to touching me. Then she gulped and psyched herself up enough to take the next step.
She lowered my pants with a little help on my part, raising my hips so she could get them down my legs. Despite being confident I had nothing to worry about, nervous energy filled my body. My underwear soon followed, revealing my cock to someone else's eyes in a romantic sense for the first time.
It sprung upward once it was free, narrowly missing Septima's face only to bounce off my stomach. It reached just shy of my belly button but the length wasn't even the most objectively impressive aspect of my cock. It was so thick that even I couldn't easily touch my fingers when I wrapped a hand around it.
Septima bit her lower lip, just staring at it for a few long seconds which only served to increase my nerves. Eventually, she reached out and ran a finger up along my length. A shiver ran up my spine at the same time, seemingly tracking the progress of Septima's finger as if directly mirrored. She lit my nerves on fire with a simple touch.
"Septima… !" I bit back a groan.
"So thick… So hot and hard… Truly a tool like this could start a bloodline by itself…" Septima marveled, her mind seemingly going back to her little history lesson from just a few minutes ago.
I practically growled, "If you don't stop that, that theory will be tested soon."
Septima jumped slightly and then giggled, "O-Oh? A-Are you having trouble controlling yourself, Atlas?"
"Yes…" I spat through gritted teeth.
The obvious evidence of my desire for her seemed to give Septima a bit more confidence, "T-Then perhaps I should do something about this~"
But her nerves still showed on her face, "Just… be gentle and do not expect the world, yes? It's my first time doing something like this…"
"Mine as well," I admitted, barely keeping my hips from bucking into the featherlight grip she'd taken around my cock.
Her hand was so soft and delicate and seeing it trying to wrap around my cock… Fuck! Thankfully for my sanity, Septima didn't hesitate for much longer. She tentatively leaned forward, bringing her other hand to join the one already around my cock. A petite, pink tongue fell from between her perfectly plump lips to lap at the tip of my cock.
If I thought just her hand felt good, it had nothing on the wet warmth of her tongue. I lost the battle for control of my hips, unintentionally bucking slightly and making Septima go "Oh!". A droplet of precum beaded at my tip, leaking onto her tastebuds.
Septima pulled back slightly, absently stroking my length as she sexily savored my taste, "Hmm… What an interesting flavor…"
"Septima… Please…?!" I gasped.
"Oh! Yes, my apologies, Atlas," Septima apologized sheepishly, returning her attention to the matter in her hands.
She tucked her hair behind her ear, leaning back in. This time, she started at the base of my cock and ran her tongue all the way up the shaft. When she got to the head, she began circling it with kisses, looking up at me for approval. I could only nod vigorously to encourage her to keep doing exactly what she was doing.
She giggled at my expression and did me one better. Her lips parted and the head of my cock entered heaven. Warm, wet, and silky smooth, Septima's mouth engulfed my cock. Luscious lips suckled around me and I wondered how I ever lived without knowing this sensation.
Septima's eyes widened as she realized the challenge ahead of her. Her lips were already stretched wide and only part of my cockhead was in her mouth. Still, Septima was nothing if not determined. She bobbed her head forward, stretching her lips into an even wider 'O' around me and taking an additional fraction of an inch each time.
Finally, her lips popped around the ridge of my cockhead. My tip rested on her tongue, twitching and spewing more precum as it swished back and forth on the underside. I would have been content with just that. Septima very obviously was not…
She continued her gradual quest forward down the length of my shaft. Her cheeks sucked in, gripping my shaft as she took more and more of me into her mouth. Her tongue moved constantly, curious and eager to explore this new activity. And then I discovered something. Something life-changing, ground-breaking… perhaps the single most important discovery of Wizarding kind…
Septima Vector didn't have a gag reflex. Once she was past the thickest part of my shaft, she just kept going, sinking farther down my length until her lips wrapped around my base. She swallowed around me and my whole body went stiff with pleasure.
"Fuuuuuuuuckkkkkkkkkk!" I all but yelled, some deeply ingrained instinct still keeping it to something of a whisper since we were still in the Library. "Septima! Septima, give me a second!"
I pulled her off my cock, loving the pop that sounded as it was freed from her mouth and throat. She panted for breath slightly but mostly just looked up at me innocently. Her face was flush with color and her lips were almost swollen and bruised from the kissing and sucking. She perfectly looked the part of a blushing virgin, eager and desperate to please.
"Did I do something wrong, Atlas?" She asked, innocent curiosity clear in her eyes.
"No," I denied vehemently. "God, no. The opposite. You're too good at that, Septima. I just needed a moment to catch my breath."
Septima blushed, "O-Oh… I-I'm glad it was good for you. I just did what came naturally. D-Did… Did you want me to continue?"
"Yes!" I agreed, perhaps a little too quickly. "I mean… if you want to. I'm not going to force you to do anything you didn't want, Septima. And I'd feel bad if I was the only one getting pleasured…"
Septima simply smiled, "I want to. Though, if you are willing… I wouldn't say no to a bit of gratification myself as well."
I nodded, simultaneously thinking fast and not thinking at all. I waved my hand, not even realizing I didn't have my wand in it. The chair Septima had previously been sitting in, skidded across the Library floor, pulling up next to us. There was a notification from the System as I did that but I ignored it. There were more important things at hand.
Septima gaped at me, stunned speechless by something but I just indicated to the chair that was now beside me and ordered, "Lay across this."
She scrambled to obey. I had to transfigure the chair a bit so she would fit on it horizontally but that was also done with an almost absent thought and wave of my hand. Something that seemed to shock Septima even more.
Still, with this new position, my hand could reach down the curve of her ass to reach her soaking wet core, "That's better."
Whatever Septima had been stunned by was lost almost immediately, pushed out of her mind by the way I pushed her slacks off her hips and exposed her dripping sex to the stillness of the Library. My fingers danced across her lower lips, playing to some unseen tune as if by instinct and making her muffle a shuddering moan.
I lightly traced along her pussy, circling her hooded clit but not touching it directly. My other hand went to Septima's hair, brushing it out of her face and gently directing her back to my cock. Despite the sudden pleasure she was experiencing, she was quick to resume her previous oral attentions.
Her head dipped and her lips once again engulfed me. No time was wasted before she began showing off what I'd discovered again, swallowing my shaft with the eagerness of a starving woman. Septima really seemed to be a natural vixen. The embodiment of the innocent but sexy librarian trope, keen and wholeheartedly committed to exploring this new activity we were experiencing together.
Drool coated my cock to the base. Septima dragged her lips up and down my shaft, pulling throbbing twitches from my body with her every movement. A tight sheath of slippery heat clung to my nerves, taking hold and never letting go. My brain felt like it was floating on a haze of pleasure and it was all I could do to focus on giving Septima the same pleasure she was giving me.
My fingers dipped into her soaking slit with a small, sticky, squelching sound. She shook slightly at the penetration, her insides clamping tightly around my fingers. I allowed myself to explore, still mostly unsure of what to do and finding my way solely by touch and instinct. The way she buried my cock in her throat and moaned around it told me when I was on the right track.
My thumb naturally gravitated toward the little button of love and nerves at the top of her pussy. The fingers inside her followed its lead, forming a sort of claw as if I was pinching her clit from both inside and out. There was a slight difference in texture on the tips of my penetrating digits.
Septima's whole body seized when I found that spot inside her. Her pussy gushed around my fingers, Doing its best to coat my whole hand in her love juices. Encouraged, I applied more pressure with my thumb, practically pressing her clit into the fingers behind it inside of her.
She tried to scream around my cock, the sound choked by the girth lodged in her throat. Her eyelids fluttered, her hands gripped my thighs, and I realized I'd made another important discovery: the clitoris was double-sided.
Happy I could now turn the tables on Septima, I didn't let up. My thumb gently strummed her clit and the fingers inside her moved as much as they could against the clamping of her inner walls. I leaned over her body for easier access, unintentionally pressing her head further into my lap.
It took Septima a few moments to adjust to the sudden increase of sensations coming from her lower half. When she'd somewhat recovered, she did her best to start moving again. Her movements were slower, though, still distracted by the pleasure coursing through her body.
A near-constant stream of arousal leaked down my hand and dripped onto the chair beneath Septima. I made it my mission to make the resulting puddle larger. Of course, Septima seemed to make it her mission to make me cum before I could do the same to her.
Despite the fact that she was practically shaking with pleasure, Septima's mouth continued to move up and down my shaft. Her throat gripped and swallowed around me. Her tongue tickled my cockhead on each upstroke and lapped at my base with each plunge of her head down my length. She pulled out all the stops, learning quickly what set me off the most.
She tried her best, milking me for all I was worth, but I gave as good as I got. An additional finger slid into Septima's tightness, joining the two that were already inside her. She shuddered, pausing for a moment, and this time, I didn't give her a chance to recover.
My fingers pulled the same move as earlier, taking advantage of my second discovery to almost bully her pussy into submission. Her whole pussy throbbed rhythmically around me like a ticking time bomb. Then a twitch of my cock in her throat was all it seemed to take to send her tumbling over the edge.
Septima came hard, squeezing around my fingers and widening the puddle beneath her. Regretfully, I pulled her head off my cock so she wouldn't choke. Little keening whines left her pretty lips as her body was wracked with orgasmic bliss.
She looked so different from how she usually did. Gone was the stern mask she used when teaching or the nervous, friendly demeanor I had gotten to know over the summer. Instead, Septima was a woman consumed by ecstasy, a vision of erotic beauty that stoked my ego into an inferno from knowing that I was responsible for it.
She clung to me as I coaxed her through her orgasm. Still, one of her hands never left the base of my cock, clutching it as if it was a lifeline as I pulsed in her hand. Her head fell onto my shoulder, eyes closing as the shudders running through her body slowly faded.
"Atlas~" Septima moaned softly. I never knew my name could sound so sensual.
"Do… you want to continue? Go farther?" I asked, hoping she would say…
"Yes!" Septima's eyes flashed open as she agreed, staring up at me and almost insisting we didn't stop here.
A smile crept its way onto my lips, "Right, well, we'll have to get up for that."
Septima nodded and I helped her stand on shaky legs. Once she was somewhat balanced, she turned away from me and bent over the Library table in front of us of her own volition, only stumbling a bit. She looked back at me with an almost pleading look in her eyes, presenting her bare backside and wiggling her slacks the rest of the way down her legs to step out of.
"G-Go ahead, Atlas~ Take me~ Let's start a new coven and bloodline~" She teased enticingly.
"So no contraception charms?" I asked, confused and a bit wary of her idea of 'roleplay'.
Septima blushed and said in a small voice, "No…? If you're okay with that…? I-I can take the potion in the morning just in case but tonight, I think I want to enjoy the d-danger…"
"Oh… Okay," I said, relieved and more willing to play along with that reassurance. "No contraception charms then."
Septima beamed a smile back at me, her face still quite red but obviously happy I agreed, "Whenever you're ready, I'm willing, Atlas… But for now, come take me and induct me as the first member of your coven~"
I didn't know if she would be serious about the coven stuff or starting a new bloodline outside of roleplay but I couldn't deny that it got my blood pumping even harder. Somehow, my cock hardened from being like steel to Tungsten. A primal need, fueled by magic, welled up in my core and I stepped up behind Septima, slapping my cock down upon her butt and lower back.
Her hips wiggled back and forth teasingly beneath the weight of my manhood. I could feel her wetness against my balls. I pulled back slowly, making sure she could feel every inch of me on her skin. The head of my cock slid down and settled into position at her lower entrance.
"This, uh, might hurt…" I said. "Just try to relax for me."
Septima's tense body let out a shaky breath. I did the same, steeling myself to take both of our virginities with a single thrust of my hips. Slowly, I pressed forward, breaching Septima's folds and stretching her around me.
"So big~ So thick~" Septima whined, fingers scratching at the table beneath her as her lower lips were invaded by a thick rod of hot, throbbing, silk-coated metal.
I wasn't fairing much better, though obviously with less discomfort on my end. Still, the sensations were intense. Septima's inner walls squeezed around me, paradoxically resisting my intrusion and sucking me in farther with each inch of progress.
My head fell back and I groaned, unable to stop myself from bucking my hips. Two more inches suddenly slid inside Septima and she squeaked, jumped, and moaned all at once.
"Shit! Sorry," I apologized.
"I-It's okay…" Septima reassured. "I think I'm getting used to this… Y-You can go a little faster…"
I tentatively took her advice, sawing in and out of her a bit until I reached a bit more resistance than I'd gotten used to.
"This might pinch slightly," I warned Septima.
She nodded, bowing her head until her forehead rested on the table. I took her permission to press forward through her hymen. With another sharp buck of my hips, Septima was fully deflowered and my cock was sheathed fully inside of her, kissing her cervix.
Septima's body stiffened but she didn't make a noise. My hands stroked her back. I instinctively let my magic flow out of me and into her, hoping to soothe her pain and discomfort. It seemed to work.
She sighed as the warmth of my magic tickled her core, "Ahhh… T-That's better. Y-You can move now…"
I spent another moment just stroking her hips, "Okay. Tell me if you need me to stop."
She turned to look back at me over her shoulder, nodding and biting her lip in anticipation. I pulled myself back and out of her depths, regretting every inch of contact lost. Septima seemed to feel the same if her low whine meant anything. Then I slowly thrust myself back forward until I was once again hilted inside my former teacher.
As my hips hit her ass, Septima pushed back against me and moaned loudly. Despite myself and the current situation, I couldn't help but try to silence her. We were in the Library! Did she have no shame?
I realized how ridiculous I was being a moment later. But by then, I had folded myself over her back and wrapped a hand around her mouth. She seemed to unconsciously start to suckle at my fingers, reinforcing my idea that Septima was a natural vixen.
My hips drew back and thrust forward again. Then again. And again until I was moving at a constant rhythm and fucking Septima into the table beneath us. At that point, I couldn't have stopped my hips even if I wanted to. Nothing I'd ever experienced held a candle to this, to the intimacy, pure physical sensation, and the bond I could feel forming and deepening with Septima in the back of my mind.
Another System notification popped up in the corner of my eye but for once, the Grind could wait. Septima had all of my attention. The way her body writhed beneath mine. The heat and grip of her dripping core around me. The damn-near musical moans and whimpers that escaped her pretty lips. Septima was my world at the moment and nothing could change that.
I felt my core clench in time with Septima's. Combined passion and heat like a rising sun seemed to bloom within both of us, shared and synchronized through our magic. Gripping walls sucked me into molten depths. I could feel her heartbeat through our connection and I was sure she could feel mine.
We built and built, chasing endless ecstasy together like two hopeless fools. With each pump of my hips, the sensations intensified. With each kiss of my tip to her cervix, we were sent farther into a trance of pleasure, intimacy, and Connection.
Then the pressure between and inside of us broke. Not unlike a crumbling dam, I spilled myself into Septima's core, releasing a flood of manly essence. Like yin to yang, Septima's feminine essence joined mine, leaking out around where we were joined and dripping down my balls to the floor below.
In that moment, I could have sworn I saw God and laughed in His face because nothing He could give me would ever match Septima. My world whited out in bursts of pleasure akin to fireworks and explosions of sensation. I held Septima as tightly to my body as I physically could and my magic reached out to hers, acting on its own to seal something I couldn't consciously consider.
Her magic reached back and I felt everything she did. I felt the overwhelming flood of gushing warmth in her core. I felt her carnal satisfaction and ecstasy. Our climaxes peaked and I felt my ancestral magic rejoice for a new beginning reminiscent of the original, rejoice for the future, rejoice that my still-mysterious bloodline wouldn't die with me.
As our synchronized orgasms faded, that strangely insightful precognition was pushed out of my mind, forgotten to the afterglow. I didn't chase it. All that mattered to me was holding Septima close for as long as I could.
I sighed into her hair, content to breathe in her scent for a moment. Then, worried about smothering her beneath me, I directed us both upright and collapsed into a chair that seemed to appear just where I needed it. During the entirety of the repositioning, I stayed buried in Septima. She moaned softly when she ended up in my lap and my cock was jostled inside of her.
She seemed content to bask in the afterglow so, with another sigh, I went about checking all of the System notifications I'd missed. The first was somewhat expected but the second and third were utter surprises…
1 to Perception, 1 to Luck, and 5 to Seduction for Finally Bagging (Banging) Your Former Teacher Perception 161=17/100, Luck 341=35/100, Seduction 365=41/100
Your Social Skill is Now Tier 3
Quest Completed: Look, Ma, No Hands!
Condition(s): Raise Your Magic Theory Discipline by Five (5) Levels, Bring Your Magical Core Into Balance?(X) Be Able to Easily Access and Control Your Magic Without Your Wand (Better?)
Rewards: Wandless Magic Discipline Unlocked and 10 Levels
Wandless Magic 10/100
7 to Wandless Magic for (Competently) Using the Discipline Unconsciously
Wandless Magic 107=17/100
Coven Unlocked!
Coven Members (1): Septima Vector
Huh… "Hey, Septima? Were you serious about forming a coven together…?"
[AN on the Coven: I envision the coven acting sort of as the party aspect of the System. It won't be explicitly called that though and the coven members other than Atlas won't be able to see the System (mostly because I don't want to write that or think it's necessary). They'll still get the benefits though such as soulmate-level bonds with each other, XP/learning boosts, protections against influences outside of the coven, and maybe new specialized family magics.]
9: September 1st
Minister Unfairly Blamed For World Cup Riot!! And an Azkaban Escape: Gone Wrong! Gone Violent! Gone Sex-… Wait, No…
As Reported by Rita Skeeter
Hello, noble Wizards and Witches of Wizarding Britain! This is Rita Skeeter, once again bringing you your daily scoop of ongoing events! This edition of the Daily Prophet's front page will be on the Quidditch World Cup and its continued fallout! Of course, it will be! It's all anyone can talk about!
It has now officially been two weeks since the unfortunately terrible events of the Wizarding World's premier sporting event. And we are still seeing new developments due to what is now being called the Cup Riot of '94.
For those poor souls who have been living next to Flobberworms, this generous Reporter shall briefly recap! The 1994 Quidditch World Cup was recently held in Dartmoor, England. It ended with an Irish victory and celebrations extended well into the night.
At some point during the night, masked and robed figures appeared around the World Cup's campgrounds. Panic quickly spread and the festivities devolved into a riot. Now, it is important to note that the Daily Prophet proudly mirrors the Ministry of Magic's official stance on the event!
There is no evidence that the masked figures were Death Eaters, especially since everyone knows the true Death Eaters are all safely secured in Azkaban! Currently, the Ministry is investigating under the assumption that the riot was simply a harmless prank that grew out of control, eventually claiming the lives of several notable and respected Pure-Bloods. This Reporter mourns the loss of Lord Lucius Malfoy, Lord Marcus Parkinson, Lord Corbon Yaxley, and Lord Steven Flint…
At the end of the riot, the Dark Mark was cast into the sky, yet more evidence that this was simply a prank because no one would dare invoke the mark of a dead Dark Lord! Shockingly, the Mark was cast with the wand of our own Minister Fudge himself! Again, it should be noted that the Prophet subscribes to the Ministry's narrative of events and encourages its readers to do the same.
A well-respected member of Pure-Blood society and recent widow, Narcissa Malfoy, had this to say: "The Riot was an utterly tragic affair. I lost my husband to the chaos. I shall be taking a short break from Pure-Blood society to mourn because of this terrible event. I very much doubt I shall return as the same woman I left.
"It truly is a great shame that some people felt the need to pull such a cruel and crude prank. As someone whose family was greatly affected by the rise and fall of the Dark Lord, I am perhaps one of the most sensitive to these boorish machinations. Now, another member of my family has fallen thanks to dreadful circumstances.
"I believe my late husband would have said Cornelius Fudge is simply another unfortunate victim of these witless pranksters. He had the misfortune of having his wand stolen by the uncivilized rabble responsible for the riot and is now bearing the blame for the event with dignity. I am sure Lucius would have asked that the public keep an open mind in regard to his situation. At heart, all the Minister is guilty of is a moment of carelessness, something I'm sure we can all relate to."
Well-spoken words from a well-spoken woman! This Reporter cannot help but agree with the Malfoy Matriarch! Surely, the blame for this event cannot rest solely on the shoulders of our great Minister. Instead, it should be directed at the ill-bred ruffians truly responsible for the deaths and damages!
Already, the Minister has received censure from his Light-sided peers on the Wizengamot. The dissent runs deep and the last summer session of that venerated body ended with a filibuster and intensely productive discussion on Minister Fudge's vote of no-confidence!
This Reporter is sure our noble lawmakers will see reason and grant the Minister leniency for his unlucky moment of carelessness! The fate of Wizarding Britain, nay, the whole Wizarding World, hangs in the balance! Thankfully, we are in good hands.
In other news, there were a pair of deaths and an escape attempt from Azkaban just last night. The Lestrange Brothers - Ruldophus and Rabastan - were found dead in their cells, seemingly sucked dry by dementors. Serves them right, this Reporter thinks! They were enemies of Witches everywhere for what they did to their poor wife…
Tragically notorious Death Eater Bellatrix Lestrange (nee Black) somehow broke out of her cell at the same time and made it past both Azkaban's Dementors and its Human guards without notice.
But do not panic, dear readers! She did not make it much farther. According to the guards this Reporter interviewed, it seems that Bellatrix Lestrange ran headfirst into the anti-apparition wards around Azkaban and disappeared upon impact!
Though no remains were recovered, she is now presumed dead by the relevant authorities. Azkaban's security has been increased as a result of the attempted breakout and whatever loophole Bellatrix Lestrange managed to exploit has surely been sealed!
Unfortunately, this means the death of another of Britain's valuable Pure-Bloods. One that belonged to one of Britain's oldest and most prestigious families at that. This Reporter mourns the loss of a powerful but misguided Witch and asks readers to remember the rumors that surrounded her uncharacteristic switch to the side of You-Know-Who after her forced marriage.
Those old-style marriage contracts can be quite brutal in their attempts to control a Witch in mind, body, and magic. In this Reporter's mind, Bellatrix Black will be forever remembered as a cautionary tragedy about the dangers Pure-Bloods face from within…
IIIII
The Lord Malfoy was dead and Fudge seemed to be on his way out if one read through the obvious Ministry bias of the Prophet. Only the Prophet would find a way to make the deaths of Death Eaters sound tragic. I didn't even bother hiding my snort of incredulous amusement as I put down the newspaper. I wonder if I was the one who killed the prick.
Of course, other than that news, the Prophet was as useless as ever. They assumed an escaped prisoner was dead just because she'd disappeared without a trace… As if she was just itching to stick around. Though… that bit at the end about marriage contracts and rumors about the 'deceased' was interesting…
Normally, I wouldn't even touch the thing if they didn't have such a stranglehold monopoly on Britain's news cycle. Their only competitor worth mentioning was the Quibbler and that was more of a biweekly-magazine affair run by a single family as opposed to the corporate, daily newspaper of the Prophet. It was also a bit… eccentric even by Wizarding standards.
I'd actually found the Quibbler quite pleasant to read though. Its ideas were unique and unusual but could be remarkably grounded in reality if you knew how to read it without immediately dismissing them as junk. Xenophilius Lovegood, the Quibbler's main author, came across as a bit of a mad scientist crossed with a reporter but it honestly wouldn't surprise me if he presented concrete evidence that his elusive creatures existed.
Hell, my System proved that magic worked in mysterious ways that no one could fully understand. After gaining it, I started to look at Lovegood's beliefs more as hypotheses or theories than the ramblings of a madman. If something akin to a magical RPG System could exist, why couldn't undiscovered exotic magical creatures exist as well?
"Atlas~?" Septima whined cutely from behind me. "Come back to bedddddd~"
I shook my head fondly. Septima had grown much more openly affectionate when we were alone together since we'd first been intimate a couple of weeks ago. I took it as a good sign that she now felt more comfortable with me.
"I can't, Love," I said, turning and walking over to my bed to plant a light kiss on her pouting forehead. "You know today is September 1st and we've already spent most of the day in bed together. It's already dark out. The Hogwarts Express should be arriving any minute now and the students with it. If anything, you should be getting up."
Septima's lips split from a pout into a grin, "As you command, My Coven Lord~"
I rolled my eyes and motioned for Septima to get up so we could begin making our way to the Great Hall for the opening feast. It wouldn't do to make a bad first impression on the students as their newest Assistant Professor.
But yeah… that was also a thing now. Septima and I had created a coven together. At least, as far as the watchful eyes of the System and magic were concerned. She'd apparently been serious enough about her roleplay to trigger magic's judgment and I'd been too lost in the fantasy to reject the process.
Of course, it wasn't an officially sanctioned coven yet. As in not sanctioned by the British Ministry. Though, did they really count? For us to be recognized by the Ministry of Magic, we'd have to do a specific ritual that marked the creation of a new Pure-Blood house. And considering Ritual Magic was almost entirely illegal in Britain, that wasn't happening any time soon.
According to Septima, all that was required to start a coven was a declaration of intent (roleplay seemed to be enough in our case), a certain amount of magical power, and an expression of shared carnal intimacy. Everything else was ritual bureaucracy that Humans thrived on but magic itself found unnecessary.
So to everyone and everything that mattered, Septima and I were now part of a two-person coven. Honestly, I couldn't imagine we were the first coven created off the back of sexual roleplay…
That wasn't necessarily a bad thing. If anything, it had brought me and Septima closer over the past two weeks. And Septima was living her dream. When she'd told me she was a traditional Witch when it came to relationships, this is exactly what she'd meant. After broaching the subject during the afterglow of our first time, she'd shared that being in a coven was, quite literally, her ideal relationship status.
It also seemed that my System extended some bonuses to the rest of my coven. Or perhaps the bonuses were there anyway and the System just made them readily apparent by quantifying them. Something to research but ultimately unimportant.
What was important were the benefits of creating our coven. For one, Septima and I shared a level of intimacy and connection unmatched by anything short of a Veela or Soulmate Bond. Secondly, the bond gave XP bonuses to Stat development and learning for Disciplines shared amongst the coven. Thirdly and most importantly, according to my System, the coven bond protected its members from outside influence (potions, Legilimency, and even curses like the Imperius).
We'd already seen the effects of the coven bond in an increase to both my Mind and Soul Stats. I assumed something similar was happening to Septima, but all I could see was her normal Tier status when I Observed her. Though, there was now a special little note there that claimed her as mine.
2 to Mind, 2 to Soul Mind: 312=33/100
Soul: 262=28/100
Septima Vector
Title: Hogwarts Arithmancy Professor, First Member of Atlas White's Coven
Combat Skill (T2)
Magic Skill (T5)
Social Skill (T2)
Creation Skill (T3)
By the time I finished mentally recapping the past two weeks and change, Septima was dressed and her usual stern mask had fallen over her face. I took her hand into the crook of my arm and escorted us from my quarters (which had quickly become Septima's as well) to the Great Hall. The first of the students were arriving when we got there and we all settled in to wait for the First Years.
Sitting at the staff table of the Great Hall was surreal. I'd never truly expected myself to be up here, next to Professors I respected and looked up to like Flitwick and Dumbledore himself. Septima and I sat off to one end of the long staff table next to Professor Flitwick, watching as students filed in and sat at their House tables.
Soon enough, the Great Hall was filled with the chatter and excitement of students catching up after a long summer's break. I kept mostly silent, content to just observe and absorb the surreal feeling of being where I was. I caught a few glances directed my way and whispers I assumed to be about me. I'm sure some of the new Seventh Years recognized me but to most, I was a mystery, young enough to be their peer and yet sitting up at the staff table with the rest of the Professors.
I caught the eyes of Heather and Hermione as they came in, nodding politely to them as well as the younger half of the Weasley brood. Ron was the only one to react poorly to my greeting. His glare was monumental and the way he tried to naturally gravitate toward Heather and Hermione only to get pushed to another seat by Ginny… Well, it almost made me feel bad for the prick.
A glimpse of something drew my eye to my old House table. Maybe it was the flash of nothing and something that disappeared before my brain could truly process it. Maybe it was the chittering of an 'imaginary' creature. Maybe it was a call from beyond the veil, insisting that Divination wasn't bullshit and I should look here just this once.
Whatever it was, my gaze flitted over to the Ravenclaw table and landed on a single girl. She was an utterly odd yet completely entrancing sight. She had this petite, fairy-esque beauty to her, with wispy blonde hair the color of gold and eyes so pale blue that they almost looked white. The strangest-looking glasses sat atop her head, a neckless of corks sat around her neck, and her wand was tucked behind one of her ears.
She stared off into thin air in a daze as if hypnotized by something only she could see. Something about her, something I couldn't quite place, caught my attention and held it. I was intrigued by her, enthralled really. And I noticed something else about the girl. She was completely and utterly alone.
Ravenclaw wasn't the most welcome or social of the Houses - something I could personally attest to - but surely a girl as cute as her should have had at least some friends, right? Instead, she was downright ostracized. It was as if she emitted a field that repelled people, relegating her to the end of the Ravenclaw table with several empty seats between her and the nearest other student.
She looked to have it even worse than I did in the House of the Ravens. As I watched her, she raised a hand, extending a finger to poke at something that didn't appear to be there. She was ignorant or simply uncaring of the group of girls obviously laughing at her a little way down the table.
Then, uncannily, I could swear something twinged in my soul as the girl poked the air. It was like a small hiccup, a small glitch, in the System as something even magic didn't expect to happen happened. It passed quickly but I was left wondering if I was feeling things.
The Sorting started soon after and the girl turned her head to look at the front of the Great Hall. Though her eyes seemed focused on the Sorting Hat and the First Years, it felt like she was still somehow looking at me. Slightly unnerved and intrigued, my thoughts lingered on the odd girl for the rest of the Sorting, only refocusing on the world around us when Dumbledore stood to make his Start-of-Term announcements.
"Welcome and welcome back, one and all, to Hogwarts," Dumbledore said, his voice easily carrying throughout the Great Hall and commanding the students' attention. "It is so good to see you all return alive after such an eventful summer. Yes, even you, Ms. Eldenburg. I hope you are all prepared for an equally eventful school year."
"But before I get to why this year will be so eventful, I believe I have some introductions to make. Everyone, say hello to Hogwarts' newest Assistant Professor - the first in 15 years -, Mr. Atlas White. Atlas, if you would be so kind as to stand up and explain your expected duties?"
I did as Dumbledore asked, giving a small wave to the room, "Hello, students. I'm Atlas White. Please call me Atlas. I'm… not very used to being addressed as a 'Mister'. This is, uh, quite awkward for me, considering I was sitting where you are not four months ago…
"Nevertheless, I am here now as Hogwarts' newest Assistant Professor while I pursue my Masteries. I will be assisting in classes as needed and also acting as a tutor for all years. If you need any help at all, please come find me," I ended my short speech somewhat suddenly, sitting down and trying not to cringe at myself. I really needed to raise my Speech.
"Wonderful, Atlas," Dumbledore came to my rescue, securing me a small round of polite applause from the students. "Now, I have one more introduction to make. Ala-…
"Where is that old bloody bastard?" Dumbledore mumbled to himself as if forgetting about the Sonorous charm he was using. Personally, the twinkle in his eyes made me think he did that on purpose…
Thankfully, the students weren't given long to consider the Headmaster's seemingly uncharacteristic vulgarity. The doors to the Great Hall slammed open as if struck by a cannon and the most grizzled man I'd ever seen walked through them.
He walked with a severe limp, one of his legs obviously replaced by a wooden peg. Scars littered his face as if he'd been mauled by a tiger and survived. One of his eyes had been replaced by a disturbing-looking contraption that only vaguely resembled an eyeball and spun in its artificial socket.
"Ah, Alastor," Dumbledore greeted. "So nice of you to finally join us. You're looking quite young and fresh these days. I'm sure the students will be simply delighted to have something beautiful to look at while you teach them to defend themselves."
Alastor just grunted, barely acknowledging Dumbledore's eye-twinkling teasing. He took a swing of a flask that seemed to appear out of nowhere. His magically rotating eye seemed to linger on a select few people including me for a moment too long. As he did, I thought I saw Dumbledore's eyes narrow ever-so-slightly.
"Yes…" Dumbledore trailed off for a moment before resuming his spiel. "Students, I would like to introduce you to Hogwarts' latest Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. Alastor Moody is an old friend of mine and a retired Auror. He is more than qualified for the position. All that remains to be seen is if… when he will succumb to the rumored curse on the position…"
Dumbledore chuckled at his own 'joke', "But I'm sure we don't have anything to worry about in that regard. Now, let me get to the truly exciting stuff-… Ah, apologies, Atlas, Alastor. I did not mean to imply that either of you was boring."
I chuckled awkwardly at Dumbledore's good-natured teasing, still unused to this much attention being directed at me. Alastor, having taken a seat on the other side of the staff table from me, barely reacted at all, looking straight ahead as his magical eye swiveled to and fro. I guess he was long used to Dumbledore's sense of humor as an old friend.
"Hogwarts' Quidditch season will, unfortunately, be canceled this year…"
Pausing for dramatic effect and allowing the students to explode into complaints and chatter, Dumbledore continued, "This is because of a very special event Hogwarts will be hosting this year. In a hair-brained scheme even for them, the Ministry of Magic has decided that the Triwizard Tournament shall be revived and held here at Hogwarts. Yes, yes, I know, how exciting~! Especially to those youths with no concept of mortality…"
I could hear the sarcasm in Dumbledore's tone but the students seemed to ignore it. They exploded into cheers and excited whispers. Dumbledore waited politely for them to calm down.
"To further this effort, Hogwarts will be hosting two magical academies for much of the year. The Beauxbatons Academy of Magic and the Durmstrang Institute will be arriving sometime in the coming weeks and I expect Hogwarts to welcome them with open arms and good manners. The actual tournament will begin on Halloween and be limited to of-age students - 20 years old or in their Seventh Year. Those who wish to complain about this stipulation may mail their Howlers to the Minister of Magic," Dumbledore explained, adding the last bit with a twinkle in his eye.
I was watching the students as Dumbledore announced the timing of the tournament so I saw Heather stiffen at the mention of Halloween. It seemed an odd reaction until I remembered the rumors of everything that seemed to happen to the Girl-Who-Lived on Halloween. And considering it was also the anniversary of her parents' deaths… yeah, that reaction made more sense now.
Dumbledore cleared his throat, regaining everyone's attention with the help of his Sonorous charm, "Ahem… Thank you. As always, the Forbidden Forest is, in fact, forbidden for all students. This is your one warning. If you still ignore it and end up paying the consequences, your body shall be mailed home to your parents exactly how it was found."
The only ones concerned by Dumbledore's latest announcement were the First Years. The rest of the students and staff were used to that one by now. It was practically routine, done at the beginning of every year. As far as I knew, there had been no actual student deaths in a while…
"Now, just a single choice word before I stop taking up your time. Floccinaucinihilipilification! Please, tuck in!" Somehow, Dumbledore pronounced that abomination of a word smoothly.
Students chattered excitedly as the feast began and Professor Flitwick engaged me and Septima in conversation, I had a thought. This was certainly going to be an interesting first year as a Professor…
9.5: The Betting Pools
AN: Wake up, honey, new character images just dropped!
Spoiler: Tonks
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possibly additional forms
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Spoiler: Fleur Delacour
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Spoiler: Daphne Greengrass
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Spoiler: Susan Bones
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"Ye didny call anythin', ye wee Goblin!" Minerva McGonagall's brogue was fully out to play tonight.
"Oh, but I did," Filius Flitwick chuckled. "And I seem to recall that you were firmly in the doubting camp regarding young Atlas and Septima."
"Ah didny doubt them," Minerva sniffed haughtily. "I just didny expect the youth today to move so fast."
"Which still means my bet was more accurate and that I should take the pot," Filius stated.
"And both of you forget I had the beginning of the school year as my bet," Severus Snape drawled in a flat monotone. "Filius, you thought they would get together that very first night, and you, Minerva, estimated it would take them until Yule to figure out their feelings."
This, of course, sent the three of them into petty bickering over who won the betting pool dedicated to Atlas and Septima's relationship. Pomona Sprout sat back and watched the fighting with a slight grin. She was soon joined by Aurora Sinistra, a newcomer to their weekly 'staff meetings' (read: poker games).
"What are they arguing about now," Aurora asked in a whisper.
"The betting pool for when Atlas and Septima would get together," Pomona answered.
"The new guy?" Aurora asked and received a nod of confirmation. "When did this start?"
"This summer. Septima stayed in the Castle and they were dancing around each other so much. It was adorable really."
"I can understand why," Aurora mused. "Just his name alone does things to me that shouldn't be mentioned in polite company. So often is the star Atlas forgotten for the myth but I can only hope that isn't the case for him. Though… doesn't that name sound suspiciously Pure-Blood?"
"That's a whole other pool entirely," Pomona said with a wink.
"Oh, don't get me started," Severus said, breaking off from the argument still going on between Minerva and Filius. "I still say he looks too much like Black for it to be a coincidence."
"Really?" Aurora perked up. "That family tends to name their children after stars and constellations, correct? Hmm…"
Pomona nodded, "They do but personally, I think the odds of him being a Black bastard are low. Severus is just particularly biased due to a certain school acquaintance of his."
"Ah dae believe in them!" Minerva's almost offended reply interrupted the conversation and drew everyone's attention back to the argument in their midst. "Septima's got a good head on her shoulders and the lad'll treat her right. Just because they belonged to yer Hoose disny mean you hold a monopoly on caring for our former students!"
"Mhmm, he'll treat her right, alright~" Aurora muttered appreciatively under her breath.
"What was that, lass?" Minerva directed her attention to Aurora.
Flustered, Aurora answered, "Ah… Just that he's quite the good-looking young man… Septima's just lucky is all. Maeve knows I'm getting up there and I haven't found anyone like she seems to have. I'm 30 now and people will start calling me a spinster soon…"
She sighed, "Haaahh… If only I was here over the summer, perhaps I could have staked my claim with Septima. My upbringing lends me quite well to sharing a high-value Wizard with other Witches. I realize that arrangement is something of a rarity in modern Wizarding Britain though."
"You may just be in luck," Filius said. "I happen to know that Septima is of a similar mindset when it comes to relationships. She's quite the believer in the old ways. Covens and such. I believe she wishes to start a whole new bloodline - unique magic and all - and since she now seems to be in a relationship with young Atlas, there is a good chance he is on board with her plan."
Aurora perked up as the seed of an idea was planted in her mind and Minerva snorted, "Couldnae be me. The one Veela was more than enough for Robert and I, thank you very much."
A grin spread across Aurora's face, white teeth contrasting beautifully with her darker skin, "So you're telling me there's a chance?"
Pomona chuckled, "Well, seems we'll have to start up another pool."
Despite his monotone, everyone could tell Severus was jumping for the chance to place his bet, "I'll give it until Yule and I'll throw in some extra that Aurora here will make their first time into a ritual."
"A bit eager, aren't we, Severus?" Minerva smirked knowingly.
Severus turned his nose up at her, "I need the money. I have a newly half-orphaned godson to look after."
Minerva's reply was thick with honey-sweet sarcasm, "Yes, how unfortunate that noble Lucius passed away during the Riot when the only reported casualties were Death Eaters… Oh well. He will be missed."
Severus matched her sarcasm with deadpan, "No. He won't. Not even by me. But this does mean Narcissa is back on the market. Perhaps I shall offer myself as a shoulder for her to pretend to cry upon?"
"How strange…" Filius mused insincerely. "Why do I feel a modicum of respect for you growing in my chest, Severus?"
Severus sneered, "Unkindly, Filius, shut up."
"Since we're betting on my chances with Atlas and Septima, should we bet on Severus' chances with the Malfoy Matriarch?" Aurora asked.
"Not a single chance," Minerva scoffed. "Narcissa was always a smart lass. Too smart fer yer broody countenance, Severus. If she forgets that, Ah'll just have to remind her."
"Another bet perhaps?" Filius suggested to general agreement.
"Ye ever think we may have a problem?" Minerva asked frankly after a moment of consideration.
"Not like there's anything else to do in this damned Castle," Severus said sarcastically.
Minerva sighed, "Fine. Put me down for 'when Hell freezes over'."
"Your confidence in me is inspiring, Minerva," Severus deadpanned.
As if suddenly appearing out of thin air, Albus Dumbledore made his presence known, "Oh, I'm sure she only means it in good jest, Severus."
"Albus," Minerva greeted fondly. "So kind of ye to join our staff meeting. Care for a game?"
Albus waved off the invitation, "No, no, I'm simply here to collect my winnings from the Atlas-Septima pot. I believe I had 'right after the World Cup' and 'the beginnings of a coven'."
Minerva cursed up a blue streak, "Bloody buggerin' bastard! He beat us all!"
Albus' eyes twinkled, "Did I? How fortuitous! Now, my winnings, if you please. A bag of lemon drops seems to be calling my name…"
10: Professoring
I'll freely admit my hands were shaking a bit as I spoke, "Right, everyone seated? Great, let's get started…"
For some reason, Flitwick decided it was a good idea to put me in charge of his classroom for the first classes of the year. Some kind of 'sink or swim' test that he fully expected me to pass with flying colors as I tended to do for the other tests he'd given me when I was still a student. His faith in me was inspiring but it didn't do much to help my nerves.
My only saving grace was that the first class of the year was focused on revision and he didn't have me teaching the First Years. That would have been throwing me to the sharks instead of just into the deep end. Flitwick still watched over me but he'd basically given me free reign to teach however I wished.
The first section I was assigned went surprisingly smoothly. I mostly chalked that up to it being a NEWT-level class composed of the most studious Seventh Years.
I'd even tutored a couple of them before so it was easy enough to fall back into that mentality. I treated the class as an open-study session where the students could freely ask me questions as we shook off the rust of the summer together. That seemed to be a successful decision based on how the Teaching and Speech XP came flying in fast and furious for me.
1 to Teaching, 3 to Speech for 'Swimming' Teaching 341=35/100, Speech 133=16/100
The second section wasn't as simple as the first. It was a combined class of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff Fourth Years, the section that Heather, Hermione, and Ron were in. Since they were just Fourth-Years, I decided to go with a more structured lesson plan to help them revise and remember the charms and spells they should have learned last year.
I looked out over the classroom, three rows of desks perpendicular to me holding my captive audience. Some seemed eager and ready to learn such as Heather and Hermione. Some seemed as if they'd rather be anywhere else or learning from anyone else such as Ron and the other Gryffindor boy next to him. And yet more - one pair of Gryffindor girls in particular - seemed to be overtaken by fits of giggles, whispers, and poorly-concealed glances at me.
I put the admittedly attractive blonde girl and her equally attractive dusky-skinned friend out of my mind for now. I did the same for Ron's glare and even the expectant expression Hermione was shooting my way. Behind me, Flitwick stood on his trademark stack of books, content to silently let me lead the class.
I took another fortifying breath, "As I'm sure you've all learned to anticipate after three years here at Hogwarts, this first class of the year is reserved for revision. We'll be going over spells you already know, trying to shake off the rust of the summer's break."
I heard some disappointed groans but I pushed on, "But considering we do this every year, I figured I could do something a little different to spice things up. This is very experimental. I haven't even run it by Professor Flitwick here yet so I hope he'll approve."
My wand waved and letters of fire wrote themselves out in the air above my head, "That said… Welcome! To Hogwarts' first ever Charms Olympics!"
My declaration wasn't met with the fanfare I expected… I saw more confusion in my audience than anything else. The only ones who seemed to have a clue what I was trying to do were the Muggle-born or Muggle-raised.
"Charms Ol-what?" Ron asked, not even raising his hand.
"You cannot possibly tell me you haven't heard of the Olympics…" I deadpanned at him, only to receive infuriating silence from him and the rest of the Pure-Bloods in the class. "Seriously? Happens every four years? Biggest sporting event in the world? People train all their life for it? Dates all the way back to Ancient Greece? None of this is ringing a bell?"
"So it's some kind of Muggle competition?" A Hufflepuff boy - Macmillan, I think - asked. To his credit, he wasn't rude about it. More just curious.
Still, I couldn't stop myself from facepalming and muttering to myself, "Merlin save me from sheltered Pure-Bloods…"
I shook off this unexpected development, "Yes, it is, Mr. Macmillan. Typically, the Olympics are composed of sporting events but since this is a magical classroom, I thought we could take the idea and give it a Wizarding spin, yes?"
Hermione's hand shot up and I acknowledged her, "How is this productive? Shouldn't we be studying instead of playing games?"
"C'mon, Hermi-… Ms. Granger… You're Muggle-born. Surely you remember playing review games in primary school. The idea here is the same. These 'games' are to meant to allow us to internalize and familiarize ourselves with the concepts we are reviewing and even put them into practice instead of sticking only to theory. Remember, everyone learns in different ways. What works for you will not necessarily work for someone else," I chided gently.
Hermione's hand fell and she nodded, seemingly satisfied with my justification. And by the excitement that was starting to show on the Pure-Bloods' faces at the mention of 'games', her slight challenge had only been helpful. Clever girl, that one. Brilliant, even.
"What a wonderfully creative idea for revision, Mr. Atlas!" Flitwick said, clapping happily behind me. "I am a bit put out that you didn't tell me your lesson plan beforehand but the wait was well worth the surprise! You have my blessing and anticipation! Please, continue."
"Right," I clapped my hands emphatically, Flitwick's approval raising my confidence by at least two levels. "Professor, if you would the honors of vanishing the desks, I shall prepare our arena of competition."
Flitwick nodded, having all of the students stand away from their desks so he could clear the room. As he did, I began my part of the preparations. In one corner of the room, I summoned a series of targets and ammunition to be used later. In another, I summoned a small table with a miniaturized arena atop it. On the ground in the middle of the classroom, I burned a circle into the floor. The first event of the Charms Olympics wouldn't require anything more than that last bit of preparation.
With that done, I explained how this would work to my now eagerly waiting audience, "The class will be split into two teams. I think the dividing lines should be obvious enough: Hufflepuff vs. Gryffindor. Everyone will get a chance to compete and House points will be awarded for exceptional play. Please treat this seriously, both as a competition and as a chance to review.
"The first event of the Charms Olympics will be relatively simple. Two students will step into the circle I've drawn in the center of the room. One will attack while the other defends. The defender will cast the Lumos Charm and hold it for as long as they can. The attacker's job is to disrupt the defender's concentration and make them drop the spell within a set time frame - say, 15 seconds.
"The defender wins if they last the entire time without dropping their Lumos Charm. Attackers may use any spell they know as long as it doesn't cause more harm than a Stinging Hex. Please remember that this is not a duel, merely friendly competition. Does everyone understand the rule?"
I received excited nods of confirmation and called up the first two competitors, "Longbottom, defense. Macmillan, attack."
Neville Longbottom stepped into the circle, anxiety practically pouring off of him at the attention of all of his classmates. In comparison, Ernie Macmillan was cool as a cucumber as he stepped into the circle opposite Neville.
"C'mon, Nev', don't be a Squib!" Ron and another Gryffindor boy - Finnigan maybe? - jeered.
I shot Silencing Charms and glared at both of them, "None of that, boys. Go on, Mr. Longbottom. You'll do fine."
Neville gave me a shaky nod and raised his wand to the ready. Just to be sure, I cast a subtle Calming Charm at Neville before I called the start of the match. It wouldn't do for the boy to embarrass himself and do further damage to his confidence.
As my Calming Charm hit him, Neville's face set with determination. It seemed to do wonders because he then cast a perfect Lumos Charm and held it without wavering an inch. Macmillan opened with a Cheering Charm, which only seemed to increase the light of Neville's Lumos.
What followed was exactly what I'd hoped would happen. The attacker - Ernie Macmillan, in this case - was forced to get creative and actually apply what he'd learned during his studies at Hogwarts. He tried Finite - the General Counter-Spell - and a couple of light Banishing Charms to push Neville around. Through it all, Neville stood tall and strong like a tree, barely swaying under the assault. In fact, it was almost as if his magic was acting to help protect him and blunt Macmillan's spells slightly.
15 seconds later and Neville was still standing with a light at the tip of his wand, having proved he was so much more than a Squib. His victory was met by cheers from the Gryffindor side of the room. It was only after seeing them cheering silently that I remembered to unsilence Ron and Seamus.
"Time," I called. "Neville Longbottom wins! 5 points to Gryffindor. Good effort, both of you. Next up…"
The event continued like that. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, actually engaged in the class and discussing which strategies worked and what else they could try with their team. Both teams won their fair share of matches. I gave advice where I could and facilitated the matches themselves. We ended up going for two cycles, giving everyone a chance at attack and defense.
To me, the standouts of the matches other than Neville were Heather, Hermione, and Susan Bones. Heather won her match handily with a simple Disarming Charm, something that none of the other students had thought to try, and held on well when put on the defense. There were some complaints of fairness but I only smirked at them. This was exactly what I wanted after all. For them to think outside their normal understanding of magic and apply themselves creatively.
Hermione was similarly creative on the attack, casting a Full-Body-Bind Charm that petrified her opponent and snuffed their Lumos like a candle. She didn't fair as well on defense but it was still impressive.
Susan Bones impressed both me and Professor Flitwick with a stalwart defense comparable to Neville's and a Stunning Spell that she should have had no way of knowing. That was Fifth-Year material. I guess it paid to have the Head of the DMLE as an aunt.
"Now, for our second event. This one is specifically designed to help you review and train the Banishing Charm and Levitation Charm. These targets will be set up at one end of the room and you all will stand at the other. You are tasked with hitting these targets with the ammunition provided. You may accomplish this in any way you desire but points will only count if the target is hit with the physical object, not a spell. Professor Flitwick and I will be moving the targets erratically to make this more interesting," I explained.
The second event started with even more enthusiasm than the first. Who knew people really like to hit stuff with other stuff? Even Flitwick and I got in on the fun by messing with the targets as we moved them. I'll admit that Flitwick did most of the heavy lifting there though, sometimes even causing illusionary targets to appear if a student seemed to be having too easy of a time with the task.
Still, no matter what we did to try and make things more difficult, two students absolutely dominated the event: Susan Bones and Heather Potter. They were like Muggle pitching machines, shooting the little tennis balls I'd summoned as ammunition so fast that Flitwick and I literally couldn't move the targets out of the way. Scary Witches, those two…
There were also some creative solutions to the event's challenge though. For example, Hermione was the only one who thought of casting an Enlarging Charm on the ammunition and the targets to make them easier to hit. Though others did start to copy her after she did that, to much lesser success.
"Once again, great job everybody," I congratulated the students, especially the ones who were starting to look worn out by the magical exercise. "Last event of the class and then we'll dismiss you to dinner. All I ask is that you don't immediately share what we've done today with your friends in the other two Houses. I'd like to keep the Charm Olympics a surprise for Slytherin and Ravenclaw."
At the accepting nods, I continued, "This last event is something a little different. This will be an individual event and will probably be the most challenging event for most of you. You'll all be given a bit of time beforehand to prepare.
"I'll ask you to find an object, any object you can manage to get your hands on so long as it can be held in your hands or shrunk to that size. We'll then take those objects to this miniature arena I've made. Two students will be selected and they will take their chosen objects to the arena and magically animate them to fight.
"If you can make a pineapple tap dance in your first year, I expect you to be able to make a handheld object fight in a rudimentary manner by now. The winner of this proxy duel and their object will stay until they are defeated. Any questions?"
"So it's like Wizard's Chess?" Ron asked.
"Uh…" I paused. "Yeah, I guess it kinda is."
"Wicked!"
With that uncharacteristically apt comparison, I released the students to pick their objects. Almost immediately, I was impressed by the variety of their choices. Some chose books or parchment. Others chose quills, pieces of chalk, or other writing utensils. Others still chose personal items or items of clothing. The two that impressed me the most were Seamus Finnigan who chose a flask that he definitely shouldn't have been in possession of and Ron Weasley who pulled a full set of Wizarding Chess from his bag.
"Mr. Finnigan," I said. "I'll pretend I didn't see that little bit of contraband so long as your enchantment is successful."
Seamus nodded vigorously and thankfully and I turned my attention to Ron, "Mr. Weasley, do you think your object is in the spirit of the event? Or that it is sporting to use something that has already been enchanted and animated?"
"Uh…" Ron looked down at his Chess set a bit guiltily.
"I do appreciate the initiative and creativity though. I'm sure Professor Flitwick or I would be willing to conjure a Muggle Chess piece for you to enchant and use if you asked…" I hinted.
Ron looked a little put out about having to rely on others but ultimately nodded, "Right… Uh, a little help, Professor?"
"Certainly, Mr. Weasley. A Queen, I presume?"
With the 'hard' part of asking for help out of the way, Ron quickly grew excited again, "Yeah! This is bloody brilliant by the way, Prof'! Only time I've actually had fun studying!"
I allowed myself to smile slightly, "I'm glad you're enjoying my idea, Ron. Hopefully, I can bring that same spark to the other classes I'm put in charge of."
I lowered my voice as I spoke to Ron so as to not disrupt my vaguely constructed image of professionalism. I didn't want to come across as strict as McGonagall or Snape but I also wasn't addressing the students by their first names. Still, there were times when a more personal touch was called.
I conjured the Chess piece I'd promised Ron, making sure to make it permanent in case he wanted to keep the piece to experiment on after this class. A quick check over the rest of the class showed that everyone else seemed ready. With that, I called the first two students up to the miniature arena and the third event of the Charms Olympics began.
Needless to say, it was a roaring success. Everyone was at least able to make their object move, if not make it fight outright. Books swallowed socks. Parchment ripped itself upon the sharp points of quills. Chalk and charcoal broke each other in half, a flask was smothered by a scarf, and in the end, Ron Weasley's conjured Queen stood supreme over the miniature arena.
Congratulations, compliments, and a general attitude of good cheer filled the classroom. I was smiling as well. With only a few minutes before the end of class, it seemed my experimental style of teaching was a success. Nothing could have killed my good mood and-…
"So who won?" Someone - one of the Hufflepuff students, I think - asked.
"Uhm…" My mind went blank. I had completely forgotten to keep track of the points. I'd just been handing points out as I felt like it and making it up as I went. But I had said this was a competition. I glanced at Professor Flitwick for help.
The half-Goblin smirked at me but thankfully, still came to my rescue, "I believe the Gryffindor team did. We shall be able to confirm that with the point totals in the Great Hall. Either way, you should all be proud of yourselves. Why, I don't think I've had a more successful review class in many, many years!"
I breathed a sigh of relief as the students seemed content with Flitwick's answer, "As Professor Flitwick said, this has been a wonderfully productive class. Again, please be sure to keep quiet about this little experiment so as to preserve the surprise for the Snakes and Birds. You will all be dismissed in a few minutes. You have free reign to do as you please until then while Professor Flitwick and I clean up the classroom."
I shot Flitwick a thankful glance, not even minding the little smirk that stayed on his face as he nodded in return. We then proceeded to try and put the classroom back in order. As we did, the students spread out to chat happily amongst themselves and I accidentally overheard something I probably shouldn't have…
The two gossiping giggling girls from the beginning of class chattered to each other, not even whispering despite the… surprisingly suggestive… nature of their conversation. They seemingly didn't care who overheard them, even the person they were talking about - me in this case.
"Do you think Prof Atlas is the type to give ' ~extra credit~'?" The curly-haired blonde - Lavender Brown - asked.
"Ooooh~" Her dusky-skinned friend - Parvati Patil - giggled. "Maybe… Should we ask him~?"
I looked up from what I was doing near them just in time to catch a blatantly unashamed glance my way from Lavender. She giggled as well, "Maybe~ He's kinda cute in a nerdy way and he's still young enough to be cool. I wouldn't mind earning my extra credit with him~"
I looked to Professor Flitwick for help. He was across the classroom, ignorant of what even I could tell was two students propositioning their Assistant Professor. The pitying looks I saw from the other students who heard Lavender and Parvati told me I wasn't going to find any help there either. Surprisingly, it was Heather and Hermione who came to my aid.
"Y-You can't do that!" Hermione hissed in a not-so-hushed whisper. "He's our Professor! It's unethical!"
"So?" Parvati asked, shrugging her shoulders. "He's the only Professor even remotely young enough to consider. So what if we want to be a little bit naughty? I'm sure he won't be complaining~"
"Yeah, and not all of us are as smart as you, Hermione. Maybe we need all the help we can get," Lavender added.
"W-Well! Well, you still shouldn't s-s-sleep with your Professor," Hermione shot back, blushing up a storm. I wasn't far behind in that regard.
"That's what makes it so hot though! I know you know what I'm talking about, girl~," Lavender teased.
Surprisingly, Hermione didn't have a rebuttal for that, just clamping her lips shut and keeping quiet. Heather placed a hand on her shoulder, "C'mon, Hermione, leave them to their little delusions. Not like Atlas would ever go for them. He's got too much self-worth to mess with girls who would sell their bodies for grades instead of actually studying or getting to know him."
I mean… she wasn't wrong. Part of the reason Lavender and Parvati's indirectly blatant flirting was freaking me out so much was that it was for the wrong reason. I didn't want to jeopardize my current position at Hogwarts for carnal pleasure. Surprisingly, though, I didn't think I'd have a problem with the ethical ramifications of having relations with a student if they were actually interested in me for me…
Thankfully, that was when the class came to an end and Professor Flitwick abruptly dismissed the students. Lavender and Parvati chased after Heather and Hermione as they left the classroom, having smelled gossip in the water.
"Wait, what's that supposed to mean?! How can you be so sure? Do you two know him? Is there something going on between you?" Lavender pressed with rapid-fire questions.
"Heatheeerrrrr~ Don't leave us hanging like that~" Parvati's whine was the last I heard of that honestly mortifying conversation.
I was left standing in the classroom, still practically frozen from what I'd heard. Honestly, this possibility hadn't even crossed my mind. Who knew teenage girls could be horny? Or that older guys in positions of authority could be desirable at all?
"I… I think I need to lay down…" I muttered to myself.
I hadn't even noticed Flitwick walking up next to me until he spoke, "Ah, yes, I understand that sentiment. Your first day of teaching can be surprisingly draining. Take heart, Atlas, that today's classes were both stupendous successes! You showed initiative, creativity, and flexibility with your lesson plans and I could not be more proud to now call you a colleague!"
"T-Thank you, sir. That… means quite a bit to me," I said, still slightly shell-shocked and staring at the space Lavender and Parvati had previously occupied.
Flitwick nodded with a jolly smile on his face, "Yes, well, I just wanted to offer my congratulations. Don't let me keep you, Atlas. I can put the rest of the classroom back in order."
Where I might have typically protested and insisted I stay to finish the job, I just nodded. I was too drained by today - especially the idea that I might now be target number 1 for a decent percentage of the castle's female student population - to reject Flitwick's generous offer. I wish someone had told me that being basically the same age as the students I was teaching had the potential to make this Assistant Professor's job problematic.
5 to Speech, 3 to Teaching, 1 to Influence and Notoriety Speech 165=21/100, Teaching 353=38/100, Influence 41=5/100, Notoriety 61=7/100
I tried my best to push that thought along with the System notifications out of my mind as I made my way back to my quarters and collapsed into my bed. Dinner could wait. A long nap sounded like exactly what I needed right now. I dreamed of blonde, wispy-haired fairies who saw more than they should and school girls in short skirts trying to earn an easy 'O'.
My room was mostly dark when I returned to the waking world, lit only by the moonlight coming through my window. I groggily reached for my wand but couldn't find it in the darkness. Frustrated, a wave of my empty hand did the trick in its place.
I was trying to figure out what had woken me up when I heard soft, tapping knocks at my door. With the room lit slightly more, I was able to find my wand and get out of bed. I rubbed my eyes, yawning as I approached my door. Thankfully, I'd fallen asleep in my full clothes so I was presentable, if disheveled. Though, I doubt anyone knocking at my door at this hour would care about that.
"Yes?" I asked as I opened the door. I was still rubbing the sleep out of my eyes so I didn't get a good glance at my visitor yet.
An airy but not unintelligent-sounding voice spoke softly, "Hello, Professor Gamer… At the Start-of-Term feast, you said to come to find you if we needed any help at all… Is that true? Can you help me?"
[AN: Not knowing about the Olympics probably isn't realistic even for Pure-Bloods but I thought it was humorous so it's staying]
11: Loving Lovegood
Spoiler: Luna Lovegood
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Being addressed as 'Professor Gamer' woke me up as if I'd just mainlined a whole pot of coffee, "Uh… why did you call me that?"
The girl who could have passed for Fae and had just appeared in my dreams cocked her head to the side, "It says so right above your head."
"Perhaps you should come inside…" I suggested, stepping out of the way in an obvious invitation.
"Thank you, Professor Gamer. That is very kind of you," The girl said politely, seemingly unfazed by the fact that she could see the System floating over my head.
She stepped inside my room and I directed us over to the pair of Lazy Boys. We both sat down and the girl bounced happily and carefreely as she did.
"Oh! How wonderfully quaint! Are these chairs stuffed with clouds, perhaps?"
"Not… that I'm aware of. I wouldn't immediately dismiss it as a possibility though. They are conjured chairs and magic does work in mysterious ways, doesn't it?"
She nodded enthusiastically, "Oh, yes, it does! Sometimes it goes 'whoosh' and sometimes it's more like 'crinkle crackle'. Your magic is more 'thrumpy thrumpy' though…"
"What's your name, Love?" I asked, still somewhat unnerved by this girl's apparent Sight. She did seem like a delightfully odd joy to talk to though.
"Luna Lovegood, Professor Gamer. Thank you for asking for it instead of trying to abscond with it like some sort of rascal," Her smile was almost blindingly bright and just as captivating as the rest of her.
"Please, call me Atlas, Luna," I said.
"Okay, Atlas!" Luna agreed cheerfully. "Have you shrugged recently?"
"I… have…" As amusing as she was, I didn't let myself get too caught up in Luna's flow. "Now, what did you need my help-… Luna? Where are your shoes?"
"They've been stolen! In a dastardly heist! I believe my dormmates have begun working with the Nargles! They've even somehow managed to lock me out of the Ravenclaw tower as well! But turnabout is fair play! So I've decided to enlist your help, Professor Gamer!" Luna was still as seemingly cheerful as she was before my question but I thought I saw something dark beneath it all… as if her perky energy was just a mask to hide bone-deep weariness and hurt.
"I see…" I hedged consideringly. "Luna, are you being bullied?"
All of a sudden, Luna shrunk in on herself until she looked like a completely different girl than the one who'd entered my room, "No… It's not bullying… It can't be. It's just growing pains and harmless pranks… Mommy said I won't always get along with everyone because our family sees things differently… B-But I just have to keep trying, right…?"
"Oh, Luna," My heart broke for her.
My wand moved before my mind did, levitating Luna and floating her over to settle into my lap. She started slightly at the sudden movement and contact but quickly melted into my embrace. She held onto my shirt like a lifeline. Then the sniffles started. I cradled her close, uncaring of propriety at the moment.
The sudden shift from the perky, eccentric girl to the oh-so-small, lonely waif-in-denial broke down any social norms or barriers that might have been between us in an instant. I hardly knew Luna but the only thing I wanted right now was to make sure she knew she wasn't alone.
Luna didn't seem like a dull girl. Yet she was so obviously lonely and isolated that she was willing to deny the only real explanation for the way her Housemates were treating her. An act of theft was not a 'growing pain'. Locking someone out of their room at night was not a 'harmless prank'.
I rocked her back and forth in my lap, cooing and giving her what must have been the first bit of physical affection she'd seen in a long time. How had no one noticed this girl's pain? How had Luna fallen through the cracks in the system? Indignation rose in my heart on her behalf. It seemed I would have to have words with Dumbledore and Flitwick.
Even after she stopped sniffling and her tears dried, Luna didn't make a move to leave my lap. She clung to me like a limpet, seemingly content to never move again. She'd found somewhere safe and like a rabbit, she was burrowing and making herself at home there.
"Luna, would you like a new pair of shoes?" I asked.
"… I would," Luna answered me softly, still unable to recover the perky energy and eccentric enthusiasm that she'd been using as a facade.
"Would these work?"
I conjured a pair of fluffy, white, rabbit-themed slippers onto her feet. She wiggled them, staring down almost as if she was in awe.
Some life returned to her voice, "Could you give them horns…?"
It was a strange request but I complied. Now, the slippers looked like unicorn bunnies.
"They're perfect," Luna whispered. "Thank you, Professor Gamer. I knew you could help…"
"Atlas, Luna, call me Atlas," I gently reminded her. "Let's get you to bed. You've had a long night. I'm sure I can manage to unlock the Ravenclaw tower for you."
"Nnnnn," Luna shook her head, making a vague sound of refusal. "Don't wanna… And I'm not tired…"
I sighed but changed tactics, "Then how would you like to stay with me? I will freely offer you sanctuary in my quarters. You can stay as long as you like. If this happens again, tell me. I've already decided that I'll be talking to the Headmaster and your Head of House about your situation in the morning."
Luna grew unexpectedly frantic at my words, "Don't! P-Please, don't… I-I don't want to draw attention to myself… Even if it means catching the Nargles, it'll just make things worse. People will blame me and others might join in…"
There was some truth to her words. Snitching rarely worked on bullies. They would only see it as a weakness on her part. It would just give them more motivation and ammunition to work against Luna. Especially since, knowing him as I thought I did, Flitwick would make the punishment public and collective to try and make an example.
He might mean well but that would only turn the whole House against Luna. And considering how Flitwick and Dumbledore had already failed her, I was hesitant to go to them for a solution. They had years of experience with situations like this from a teacher's point of view but they lacked first-hand experience on the fallout of their punishments from the student's perspective. Their methods of punishment would likely only cause further harm to Luna's reputation and well-being.
As a recent graduate and fresh Professor, I felt I had a better perspective of the situation. I knew more about how the students thought and felt because I'd just finished living through it. A bullying situation like this one called for a more direct solution.
"Okay, if that's what you want, I won't ask Dumbledore or Flitwick for help with your situation, Luna," I said. I would still have to at least report it though. I kind of had to if I wanted to keep my job.
"In return," I continued. "I want to teach you how to defend yourself. I want to teach you how to deal with any trouble you find yourself rather than relying on others."
Luna perked up at my concession and perked up further at what I wanted for her in return, "You'll teach me how to exterminate the Nargles and Wrackspurts infesting Ravenclaw Tower?"
"I'll teach you how to defend yourself and handle any situation on your own. What you do with that knowledge and ability is up to you," I said noncommittally. "Just know that I'll have your back whatever you do."
"I see," Luna nodded faux-sagely. "Professor Gamer is not yet powerful enough to openly show his favor but he is also unwilling to abandon his allies to the wicked creatures of Hogwarts Castle."
"That's…" I paused. "Not entirely wrong. But I also want you to know that you can deal with this situation yourself. That you are strong, stronger than any of them. That your fate is in your hands and that you can change things. I'll give you the tools so that all you need is the will, Luna."
Luna considered that for a moment before her eyes lit up with a fire of determination, life, and purpose that I didn't know was missing until now, "Teach me, Professor Gamer! I shall become your greatest sidekick and ally-… No! Your greatest Henchman!… Henchwoman? Yes!"
I chuckled incredulously, "Do you happen to read comic books perchance, Luna?"
"Oh, yes!" Luna beamed. "The Muggle world has such a glorious collection of non-fiction material to learn from!"
"I-…" I stopped myself before I could correct her. "Yes… yes, it does."
"Now I just need a supervillain name," Luna mused happily to herself. "Hmm, if Atlas is Professor Gamer… Ah! Henchwoman Vtuber!"
"What does 'Vtuber' mean?" I asked, confused and curious.
Luna waved off my question, "Just a made-up word that came to me all of a sudden. I'm sure it's not important."
She raised her fist to the sky and dramatically declared, "Together, Professor Gamer and Henchwoman Vtuber shall take over the Wizarding World!"
IIIII
Me and Luna's conquest of the Wizarding World started rather uneventfully.
We stayed up late that first night and I taught her some charms and spells I thought would be essential for her. Simple things like Scourgify to clean her things if they were dirtied by bullies or the beginnings of the Summoning Charm so she would be able to call lost items to herself.
My initial impressions of Luna were quickly proved correct. She was anything but dull. Her method of learning was… unique to say the least though. It was something that would've only worked for her.
It also furthered my suspicion that she had some form of the Sight. She watched me intently as I demonstrated the spell, asking me if I could do them silently and even wandlessly as well. Her eyes seemed to almost glow as she watched and it felt as if she was looking directly at my magic.
Once she was satisfied with my demonstration, Luna would try the spells herself. She copied my movements perfectly, seemingly from sight alone, and managed to get the Scouring Charm on her first attempt. The Summoning Charm took a bit longer but she got the hang of that one remarkably fast as well. By the end of the first night, she could summon anything she could see to herself.
She later explained what she was doing when I asked. Much of the details were lost in translation due to Luna's eccentricity - meaning a lot of strange onomatopoeia when she tried to explain what she was doing with her magic - but I thought I got the jist of it.
Luna explained that her Sight didn't actually allow her to see the future. Instead, it showed her things that were usually hidden such as the movements of magic or elusive creatures. Her Sight also seemed to give her the uncanny ability to copy anything she Saw. Considering it was able to show her a tiny bit of the System - something I thought of as a miracle of magic -, Luna's Sight was a scary ability.
We did run into a bit of a problem when we finally went to sleep. No matter how much I tried to give Luna the bed, she refused to sleep alone.
"Henchwomen are under the Professor in all things. Even sleeping," Luna explained matter-of-factly as if that justified everything.
"I'm not going to sleep on top of you, Luna," I deadpanned back.
Luna pouted, "Aww, pooh… Can I sleep on top of you then?"
As tempting as that mental image was… "Please don't. Look, if you don't want me to conjure another bed, we'll sleep together. But hands to yourself, young lady!"
Luna clapped her hands happily and skipped over to the bed, somehow shedding clothes as she went. By the time she dove under the covers, she was only clad in tiny panties and a little slip of a bra.
"Clothing, Luna!" I declared, somewhere between scandalized and facepalming.
"Good point! Why are you still wearing it?" Luna cocked her head curiously. I was already starting to suspect that she wasn't anywhere near as innocent as she seemed.
I didn't have a good retort to that, too stun-locked by Luna's unflappable nature. That was when I knew I'd never win an argument against her. Nothing ended up happening that first night but I did learn that Luna was a clingy sleeper.
In the morning, the first thing I did was report last night's findings to Flitwick and Dumbledore. I had to almost physically restrain Flitwick from going on a warpath. I managed to convince him by telling him Luna wanted to solve the issue herself and that I was helping her with that process. Also by being blunt about what I thought would happen if he went off and brought undue attention to Luna by publicly punishing the whole House.
He didn't like it but he accepted my reasoning. He made sure to make it plainly clear that Luna would have his aid as well as mine should she want it.
Dumbledore's reaction was a little bit more unexpected…
"Are you aware Hogwarts has a bullying problem?" I asked bluntly after managing to secure time alone with him in his office.
Dumbledore took off his glasses, rubbing his nose and suddenly looking every one of his 113 years, "Which student are you referring to in particular, Atlas? Mr. Malfoy and Ms. Potter? Mr. McLaggen? Perhaps a prank of the Weasley twins that got out of hand already?"
"Luna Lovegood," I said. "You knew?"
Dumbledore nodded sadly, "I know about every single altercation that takes place in these halls. And it pains me greatly - more than you could possibly know - that I cannot do anything to prevent them."
"Why not?!" I demanded hotly.
Dumbledore explained in a weary, worn voice, "Unfortunately, the Headmaster of Hogwarts is just as much a political position as it is an educational one. That goes doubly so for me thanks to my other appointments. I simply cannot be seen showing favor to one student over another. Even for my favorite students like young Heather and her friends, I can only do so much and what I can do is only due to her pre-existing fame.
"The Board of Governors is constantly breathing down my neck. They are composed of the heads of long-standing Pure-Blood families who will jump at any chance to curb my power and influence. They believe in leaving the younger generation to solve their issues amongst themselves. Any steps I take to punish the offenders will be seen as me infringing upon that tradition."
"That's… That's utter bullshite!" I raged. "Screw tradition! Students are suffering! If you can't do something about it, I will!"
Dumbledore smiled, "And that is why I have teachers like you, Atlas. When I am limited, you may act in my stead. Whatever you end up doing, know that you have my unofficial blessing. Though, I do so hope that you will keep your response proportional…"
IIIII
Time passed as it tends to do. My classes continued to be successful, though I fell into more of an assisting role after the first week's revision. I aided in classes from Charms and Transfiguration to Ancient Runes and DADA. Perhaps unsurprisingly, Septima laid the biggest claim to my time as Assistant Professor.
1 to Charms, 1 to Transfiguration, 2 to DADA, 3 to Conjuration for Your Duties as Assistant Professor Charms 481=49/100, Transfiguration 491=50/100, DADA 452=47/100, Conjuration 383=41/100
Outside of classes, I received a steady stream of students asking for more personalized help. I saw to my duties as the Castle's defacto tutor with glee. It always raised my spirits to work with and help students on an individual level. The fact that a large majority of those asking for my time as a tutor were female students did worry me somewhat but none made advances as obvious or blatant as Lavender and Parvati did on the first day.
My cohabitation with Luna continued to progress and develop. The very next day, she'd moved into my quarters. I couldn't find the will or desire to reject her. Especially not as I got a better idea of what she was going through in her own dorm. Teenage girls could be so cruel…
We'd run into a few issues living together but nothing that couldn't be overcome. She still insisted on sleeping in the same bed as me and on sleeping mostly naked. I'd seen and felt enough of Luna to last a lifetime and I didn't regret a second of it. Thankfully, Septima didn't have a problem with Luna staying with me, quickly accepting the uniquely gifted girl and practically adopting her as I had.
Her training also continued to progress well. Luna picked up new spells and concepts at an incredible pace. She was a practical monster and just genuinely smart on a theoretical level when I got her to apply herself. It was getting to the point that I believed she would be my magnum opus as a teacher. In the short month we'd lived and trained together, she worked her way all the way up to casting Sixth Year Charms and Fifth Year DADA spells. Her other practical subjects weren't lagging behind by much either.
She bloomed beautifully when someone actually paid attention to her and humored her. She was a funny, whimsical, intelligent girl with poor impulse control and self-esteem. I was doing my best to curb both of those issues. She could also be rather racy and lewd as exemplified by our first night together and several other situations like it…
"What are you doing, Luna?" I asked kindly, careful to keep the exasperation out of my tone.
"Why, isn't it obvious?" Luna's response was completely free of guilt and the very concept of wrongdoing. "I'm checking you over for Wrackspurts while you sleep! Hmm, I can't find any so that's good… But you do seem to have a build-up of White Swimming Seedlings here…"
Luna's words would have evoked a visceral reaction in any man. Especially considering her position laying on my legs and staring intently at my crotch…
"Luna… are you saying that I have invisible creatures in my balls??" I asked tensely.
Luna quickly put my worries at ease, "What? No, don't be silly. White Swimming Seedlings is just a metaphor for all of your pent-up semen. That's not healthy, you know. Isn't Professor Septima taking care of you enough?"
I didn't even try to hide my sigh of utter relief, "I guess not."
Luna hummed, "Hmm… Oh! How nice of her!"
A foreboding feeling swelled in my gut. Before I could ask what Luna meant by that, my boxers were pulled down and little Atlas sprang out, ready and eager to play. It stood tall, shadowing and obscuring almost half of Luna's face. She went cross-eyed staring at it and I shivered at the feeling of her breath on my sensitive skin.
Still, I tried to stay calm, "Luna? I think you should put that back where you found it…"
"Nuh-uh," Luna refused almost petulantly. "Septima let you get pent-up as a present for me!"
"I don't-… Mmph!" I grunted as Luna tried to wrap a dainty hand around my girth. "I don't think that's true."
"Then we'll have to agree to disagree," Luna pouted. "Now, lay back and let me join your coven, Professor Dummy Gamer!"
I sighed, "I should have known you would know about that… Are you sure about this?"
"Positive!" Luna beamed, her smiling saying more than words ever could.
As I was coming to realize was the norm, I couldn't find the will nor desire to ever refuse Luna, "On your head be it. But I hope you know you don't have to do this. Septima and I will take care of you either way. We're happy to have you in our lives no matter what."
"You're bad at this, Atlas. That just makes me want to do this more," Luna giggled.
"Do you want me to guide you or did you want to figure this out yourself?" I asked, giving up on the idea of stopping this.
Luna shook her head, "I've got this! I watched Septima relieve you when you two thought you were alone!"
I honestly wasn't surprised at all that Luna had spied on us. Wait, did that mean… Oh, Merlin… !
Luna opened her mouth wide with an audible "Ahh!" and tried to plunge her head down my length. She made it a third of the way down before abruptly stopping to gag and choke. Yeah, she'd learned about giving head by watching Septima who was most definitely an anomaly of a Witch in that respect. Luna didn't naturally lack a gag reflex as Septima did. She quickly found that just because she could copy the movements, didn't mean she would have all of the same natural advantages as the person she was copying.
She drew herself back and glared at my cock like it was an offending enemy, "Why didn't that work?!"
"Luna, Love, take it at your own pace. This isn't something you can just copy at a glance. Everyone's different when it comes to things like this," I consoled her.
Luna looked up at me sheepishly, "Uh, then… do you mind guiding me after all?"
I smiled down at her, "Sure, Love. Why don't you start by just licking it and stroking it a bit?"
Luna obeyed, wrapping her other hand around my base so she could fully encircle me. Her tongue darted out cautiously to lap at my cock as if she was afraid it would bite her again. I reached down to brush her hair back out of her face, gently gathering it in my hand and holding it out of the way. Her eyes darted upward to look into mine, asking for approval.
"You're doing good," I nodded. "See? You just have to pay it the proper respect."
Something unidentifiable lit up in Luna's eyes when I said 'respect'. Her movements became more eager, lavishing me with care and attention as best she could. The way she touched me was tender and the look in her eyes beneath the weight of my cock was practically worshipful.
Her tongue bathed my cock with slick warmth. Her hands cradled me as if trying to coax even more hot blood into my shaft. Slim, soft lips laid loving kisses on every inch of skin they could reach. It was like Luna decided to devote everything she was at the moment to servicing my manhood. My balls churned and clenched, somehow flooding my nervous system with even more arousal at the thought.
Eventually, I was able to direct Luna up to the tip of my cock. Something that was made almost difficult by how utterly fascinated and entranced she seemed to be with just worshipping it. If I left her to her own devices, I was sure Luna would spend all day between my legs just kissing and holding my cock.
"Ready to try this again?" I asked. "Just remember to take it slowly."
Luna nodded, barely hesitating with that almost worshipful light in her eyes, "Okay, Atlas."
She opened her mouth and dipped her head, directing my cockhead to lay across her lolling tongue. I felt myself throb and leak a bit onto that smooth oral organ. Luna hummed at my taste, curiosity quickly turning to appreciation. Then her lips closed the rest of the way around me and she began to suck as if she was trying to pull more of that taste through a straw.
I groaned, "Oh, Maeve and Morgana!"
Luna giggled around my cock at my exclamation, looking up at me with eyes that saw more than they should. Her head bobbed downward, lips stretching to take more of me into her mouth. The insides of her cheeks hugged me and her tongue tickled my tip. The warmth engulfing my cockhead was so much that I was almost sure I could feel the blush on her face from inside of her mouth.
Before either of us knew it, Luna reached the place she'd failed earlier. About a third of my cock sat in her mouth and my tip tickled her tonsils. She glared at my cock with pride and determination and I didn't manage to stop her before she plunged herself farther forward.
Thankfully, this time she wasn't immediately stopped by the limitations of her body. She still gagged and choked slightly but her throat opened up to accept me deeper. I pushed myself up onto my elbows just so Luna could see what she was doing to me. My eyes fluttered shut and a long moan escaped my lips.
When my eyes opened again, I found Luna staring up at me with stars and sparkles in her eyes. She looked like someone had just given her the whole world. My hand seemed to naturally gravitate back to her hair, pulling it back out of her face. She leaned into my touch and made a little thankful sound that was muffled by the slab of meat between her lips.
Luna didn't go much deeper on my length, seemingly content with having conquered what she'd choked on at first. She did dip her head a bit lower, maybe taking an extra inch but that was about it. She suckled on a portion of me and used her small, soft, warm hands to take care of the half she couldn't fit into her mouth.
She looked so dutiful, so devoted, and so damned adorable taking care of my cock. I might as well have been in Heaven. Luna worshipped my cock as if that was all she ever wanted to do. Her lips drew back to my tip, nibbling there for a moment before diving back down. Her fingers gripped me and her palms glided across my flesh.
"G-Good girl," I praised Luna with a shuddering breath. "You're a natural. If you keep that up, I'll cum pretty soon."
At my warning, Luna abruptly pulled herself off me. My cock left her lips and before I could say more than "Wha…?", she was climbing up my prone body. She perched herself above my still-throbbing cock, took aim, and plunged herself down my length again. Only this time, she used her lower lips to swallow my cock…
Luna's body went still with the sudden penetration. Her hands rested on my chest, supporting her weight. Her head bowed and I could feel her legs trembling at my side as she straddled me. I didn't fare much better, suddenly engulfed by smothering heat and the clinging tightness of slick inner walls.
"Luna! What are you doing?!" I barely managed to get that question out.
"I-I-… Hah…" Luna stuttered and panted. "I d-didn't want it t-to go to w-waste… Y-You c-can only cum I-inside me… D-Dicks and P-Pussies are best friends… T-They belong together… !"
"I don't want to get you p-pregnant-… Oh, Hell!" I exclaimed as Luna clenched around me. "I'm not going to breed you while you're still a student, Luna!"
"I know," Luna said, regaining her bright smile as she adjusted to me stretching her out. "This is just practice!"
"You can not possibly tell me that cumming inside you is 'practice'!" I protested.
Luna whined, grinding herself down onto me, "But it isssssss~ I'm sure the coven is going to need you to provide us with many, many offspring! And this way, Professor Septima and I can get you ready for when you're inevitably assaulted by your wicked students as well! Don't worry, you'll enjoy this just as much as me!"
"T-That's not the point!" I blustered.
Luna stuck her tongue out at me, "Well, I'm not getting off so you better know how to cast the Contraception Charm."
I tried to resist. I really did. I never stood a chance, "Haaaaa… Fine. But! This isn't practice. If we're gonna do this, you're going to know damn well that I'm coming to truly care for you, Luna. I'd be happy to have you in my coven, my family. You'll never be 'practice'."
A happy little blush and smile came across Luna's face, "I see…"
She started grinding herself back and forth on my lap and I realized I had to act quickly just to be safe. Thankfully, I did know the Contraception Charm. Septima usually took care of that part of our intimate preparations though so I didn't have much practice with it. By some miracle, I managed to pull it off without my wand and with just a whispered word.
Luna seemed to take my casting the spell as permission to truly start moving. She wrenched herself up my length with obvious effort. I placed my hands on her hips to help her. Just because she'd gotten somewhat used to my size when she was stationary did not mean she was ready to jump right into vigorous fucking.
She didn't seem to agree with that thought though. Once she reached the apex of her movement, she threw herself back down so that her butt slapped against my thighs. A keening moan tore itself from her throat and her limbs seemed to give out on her then and there.
"Keep going," Luna whispered, eyes squeezed shut as tightly as her pussy was squeezing around me.
I tentatively complied with her request, picking her back up off my shaft but not going nearly as far as she did. Then I slowly lowered her. Luna whimpered and came on the spot from the way I manhandled her petite body. Her insides clenched around me, seemingly sucking me farther into her depths.
I tried to pause to give her a moment to recover but the way she writhed in my grip told me that moment wouldn't be appreciated. She wanted more. More of this new sensation. More of this intimacy. More of this intensely pleasurable Connection.
She shakily pushed herself up again, aided by my hands around her waist. When she allowed herself to drop, her head fell back and she exclaimed her euphoria to existence itself.
Her inner walls rippled around me. Another spurt of arousal drenched the bed beneath us. I struck deep and stuck there until Luna moved again. Eventually, she settled into a rhythm. Up and down, accompanied by little rolls of her hips to scrap my cock along every new pleasure spot she found.
The only thing I could do was lay back and let Luna ride me like a woman possessed. Her movement grew frantic and erratic as she came over and over again. Each time she did, her inner walls would clench and clamp down on my shaft, milking me and trying to convince my cock to spill its seed inside of her.
My hands began to roam her body, trying to add to her pleasure in any way I could. Her smallish breasts were cupped in my hands. Her surprisingly plump bubble butt molded under the attention of my groping palms. The muscles of her soft, slim stomach quivered beneath my touch and I could have sworn I felt the bulge of my cock inside her through them.
"I'm getting close," I warned with a grunt after losing track of how many orgasms Luna'd had.
"Do it~" Luna begged with a breathy, erotic moan. "Shoot everything inside me~ Mark me with your seed~ Claim me for the coven~! I'm yours, Atlas~!"
The way she looked me in the eye as she said that as if she was staring directly into my soul was what sent me flying over the edge. The metaphorical dam within me didn't so much break as it did explode. White-hot pleasure and electricity rushed up my length into Luna's core.
My whole body tensed as my mind practically exploded with sensation. Throb after throb, spurt after spurt, I poured everything I had into Luna. Lewd rapture took over her face. A seemingly neverending feedback loop formed as Luna was sent tumbling into nirvana alongside me.
She fell onto me, limbs unable to keep supporting her. I held her to my chest through it all as our combined peaks formed an unshakeable connection between us. It was several full-on minutes of ecstasy before we could do anything other than cum together.
Luna panted into my chest, clutching me tightly as if she would never let go. I held her just as firmly, feeling much the same way. Of course, every perfect moment has an ending and for me, it came in the form of multiple System notifications.
New Coven Member Initiated Coven Members (2): Septima Vector, Luna Lovegood
New Perk Unlocked
Lovegood's Good Loving: Magical Sensitivity Increased by 25%
3 to Awareness, 5 to Perception, 10 to Divination Due to Luna Lovegood's Natural Talents Being Partially Shared With the Coven
Awareness 193=22/100, Perception 175=22/100, Divination 110=11/100
3 to Seduction
Seduction 413=44/100
"How much of that did you See?" I asked Luna, curious how her Sight reacted to System notifications right in front of her.
Luna's sparkling eyes peeked up at me from her head's place on my chest, "Of Professor Gamer's superpower? A bit, I think… You went kinda 'ding!' for a second there."
I wasn't expecting much but… "Any chance you have an idea of what it is? My 'superpower'?"
"Nope!" Luna denied happily, still carefree and giddy from our intimacy. "But don't worry. It's part of you so it can't be bad! And it's what makes you Professor Gamer!"
I sighed, forcing it out of my mind for now. Luna snuggled closer, helping me mostly ignore the mystery of my System. Hopefully, the Grind would eventually provide a more concrete answer than 'Magic!' and 'It's a part of you!'…
11.5: A Loony Revenge
[This chapter takes place during the time skip of chapter 11. Luna hasn't joined the coven yet.]
She waited in wait because waiting a wait worth waiting was a wait worth the weight indeed. Hmm, yes… Quite.
Luna Lovegood's mind drifted back to what had set her on this path. Not just what, but who. Who prompted her to stand up to the Nargles who tormented her and the Wrackspurts that clouded their minds. Professor Atlas White had a very novel view of Luna's situation and he said only drastic action would change anything.
"They're bullies, Luna," He said. "They won't leave you alone unless they have a reason to. And they won't be getting bored anytime soon. Dumbledore says his hands are tied. Flitwick's actions would only make things worse. You and I are going to take a more unorthodox approach to this situation."
"Like what, Atlas?" Luna asked, curious but ready to be disappointed as always.
Atlas grinned, " You're going to give them a reason to leave you alone. No more relying on other people to finally step up for you. If you want something to change, you'll make that change happen yourself, Luna. And I'll give you the tools to do so."
Luna fiddled with her fingers nervously, "W-What if I can't?"
Atlas shrugged, "Then I'll just have to take matters into my own hands and most likely get fired and arrested in the process. I hope it doesn't come to that but I want you to know I'd still do it in a heartbeat."
"You'd do that…?" Luna asked hesitantly.
"Words may seem cheap to you right now but on this, I swear, Luna," Atlas said firmly, sending tingles into Luna's tummy.
"Oh…" It felt so strange to have someone so unequivocally and undeniably on her side. But… the good kind of strange.
"What you actually end up doing is up to you," Atlas reassured. "But if you want help making a plan of revenge, I'll help you."
"C-Could you…?"
"All you had to do was ask," Atlas' grin returned. "The world's feeling mighty unfair for you at the moment and I want to do my part to make it not so."
Luna quickly found out two things as they started planning her revenge. That Professor Atlas was surprisingly vindictive and vengeful. And that Luna easily found herself rising to match him in that regard.
Once she had someone else advocating for her, telling her that she didn't deserve the cards she was dealt, it became so much easier for Luna to start doing that for herself as well. It was like her eyes were opened, the clouds parted, and Luna realized she didn't have to just sit and take this. She could do something.
And then, naturally, she got a bit carried away with planning her revenge. But Atlas still approved. So Luna became the embodiment of Karma inside Hogwarts Castle.
Which brought her back to the wait worth waiting. She was giddy, almost vibrating under the disillusionment spell Atlas had taught her. He couldn't be here to watch Luna put their plan into action but he would surely hear of the aftermath.
There they were. One of her two main tormentors - Mandy Brocklehurst - strode without care into Luna's dorm room. She was followed by a pack of like-minded perpetrators, all of them laughing openly as they began to search Luna's bed.
Luna's heart might as well have been made of steel, watching these Human-disguised, Wrackspurt-infested Nargles steal and desecrate her belongings. Thankfully, Luna had already removed everything of value from her living space, leaving the bullies with relatively unimportant scraps that she'd be recovering later anyway.
"Look at these things," Lisa Turpin - one of the bullying lackeys - snorted in cruel and apathetic laughter as she held up a pair of Luna's Spectrespecs. "Merlin, what a freak. I bet her father made them for her. He must be as Loony as she is!"
Luna tensed, taking deep breaths so she didn't play her hand too early. They would all get what was coming to them. They didn't know the first thing about her or her father. So concerned about fitting in at any cost, these Witches couldn't imagine the courage it took to be themselves.
"These are new, aren't they?" Mandy Brocklehurst said, holding up the pair of slippers Atlas made for Luna. "Little twit probably thought she could get herself something nice."
"She failed at that too though. Look how ugly those things are!" Lisa added.
Again, Luna only kept herself calm through controlled breathing. She'd had to lay out something as bait and Atlas assured her that he could always conjure her another pair. Still, this part was just as hard as listening to them insult her father. Those slippers were the first gift she'd been given since coming to Hogwarts.
"I think they're kind of cute…" Sue Li said in a small, scared voice. She was the only one Luna would be letting off somewhat easily. Desperately wanting to fit in didn't completely excuse Sue's actions.
Mandy scoffed, "Don't be 'Loony', Sue."
Lisa laughed the laugh of a sycophant, so obviously desperate for approval, "Hahaha! Good one, Mandy!"
As she was laughing as fakely and loudly as she could, Luna put the first part of her plan into action. For the briefest of moments, she canceled her disillusionment spell. It was as if she'd suddenly flashed into existence, staring Lisa down with the wrath of a thousand angry Snorkacks. Then she was gone again as the spell reestablished itself.
"Shite!" Lisa jumped. "She was right there! Did anyone else see that?!"
When the other bullies looked, they saw nothing. Mandy looked at Lisa queerly, "Don't go 'Loony' on us, Lisa. Maybe all this time showing the twit her place has infected you with her crazy."
"I saw her!" Lisa insisted. "I ain't Loony!"
Luna ghosted over invisibly to whisper in Lisa's ear, "They'll never believe you. You'll be as Loony as me soon enough."
"Buggering bint!" Lisa jumped again. "She just breathed in me bloody ear!"
Mandy scoffed, "Whatever. Lisa's losing it. Probably from just breathing the same air as the Loony twit. Let's just get back to Michael already."
"W-What are you going to do to the slippers?" Sue asked.
"Same thing we're doing with the rest of her junk," Mandy smirked cruelly. "Burn it."
She laughed as she walked out of the dorm. Lisa was still shaken by Luna's haunting but tried to put on a strong face and join in. Sue wrung her hands nervously, "O-Oh…"
Before she followed her main bullies, Luna walked up behind Sue to try and warn her off, "Run while you still have a chance. I may even spare you to deal with later."
She didn't wait for Sue's response, following Lisa and Mandy down to the Ravenclaw Common Room where her other tormentor waited. The last of Luna's leading bullies was a Wizard who hadn't been able to go up to her dorm with the girls. He'd stayed in the otherwise empty Common Room, probably planning everything.
A lovestruck, happy smile that didn't match her previous actions crossed Mandy's face as she caught sight of Michael Corner again. She practically skipped across the Common Room to him, wrapping herself around his arm and displaying her 'prize'.
"Mich~ael~ Look what we found~" Mandy singsonged.
Lisa followed her lead and wrapped herself around Michael's other arm, slowly getting back into the swing of things, "Yeah~ yeah~ Loony's got a new pair of slippers~"
Sue Li didn't follow the two girls down into the Common Room but neither of them noticed. They were too busy trying to appeal to and impress the bullying's male ringleader. The sight set Luna's blood to a cold simmer. To think they'd form a coven over something as childishly cruel as bullying. Luna's relationships would be different, based on something much greater and filled with true love instead of this hollow facade.
Michael smirked as if he were on top of the world, "Nice, we'll add them to the pile. This will teach the bint to keep herself humble. Think she can refuse me? She was lucky I even tried to talk to her."
A long-suppressed memory surfaced in Luna's mind. A memory from her First Year, from her first days in the Castle. A memory of an older boy approaching her with a smile Luna couldn't help but deem as slimy and offering to 'show her around'. With the poor vibrations he had been exhibiting, was it any surprise Luna cited Blibbering Humdingers as an excuse to escape?
For a moment, the world seemed to freeze as realization struck Luna Lovegood. That was what all of this was about?! A single interaction and refusal from three years ago?! The cold simmer of Luna's blood came to a sudden and irreversible boil. What an absolute bastard.
Mandy giggled but Luna had stopped paying attention, "Sooooo~ true, Michael!"
Luna came around in front of the trio. Her wand came up and began to paint words in flame that hung in the air. Originally, she'd been planning on being theatric and cryptic to play into her 'haunting' routine with Lisa earlier. She only managed to write "Enemies of the hair, beware-…" before her patience ran out.
Instead, she crossed the first line out and wrote, "Fuck you and eat shit, cunts, Love Lovegood."
As the trio of bullies read her message, Luna crept around them, stopping on both sides of their heads to whisper a single word repeatedly, "Scourgify, scourgify, scourgify."
The three of them collapsed, screaming as a feeling not unlike coarse steel wool overtook the insides of their heads. Their ear canals were scoured down to the surface of their brains. If her reactions resulted in brain damage, well, that wasn't Luna's intention but it also wasn't something she took issue with.
She stood over them as they folded in on themselves from sheer pain and discomfort. Then she figured she might as well add the original punchline to her vengeful plan as well.
Raising her wand, Luna intoned, "Creo Dulcia."
A stream of sweets poured out of her wand and continued to do so as she kept feeding her magic into the homemade spell. Pudding and cream rushed into existence, washing over Luna's bullies in waves. Carried along with the torrent were hopping Chocolate Frogs, sizzling Acid Pops, disgusting Cockroach Clusters, and every flavor of Every Flavor Bean in existence.
Seeming endless, the stream of sweets just kept going. It was an easy spell to keep up and Luna wasn't stopping until her bullies were buried under a mountain of candies and cream. She wanted to show that her revenge could still be 'sweet', after all.
By the time she was done, Michael Corner, Mandy Brocklehurst, and Lisa Turpin were firmly engulfed by sweets with only their heads and limbs sticking out. The resulting grotesquely sweet conglomeration could have inspired a new breed of magical creatures. Some kind of pudding monster, perhaps?
Still… something was missing. Ah, the cherry! Luna hummed to herself as she summoned her slippers from the mess. They were placed on top of the congealed pile of sweets as the topping to top it all off. It looked like she'd have to ask Atlas for another pair after all.
Sue Li watched all of this from the stairs leading into Luna's dorm. She gaped and gulped in shock. But never let it be said Luna didn't know mercy.
She ghosted over to whisper in Sue Li's ear, "Let this be a lesson in the lows conformity can drive us to. Go ahead and tell everyone you can. Even if people believe you, it will only dissuade a repeat performance. I hope you find the place where you truly belong, Sue. Goodbye."
"W-Wait!" Sue called out but Luna was already gone.
The morning would see Ravenclaw met with a disturbing sight. It was a 'prank' that would quickly become entrenched in Castle legend, drawing the attention of even the notorious Weasley twins. Whispers and rumors would abound, telling a story of revenge and the beginning of a greater reign of terror within Ravenclaw House. But no one stepped up to claim credit. The only clue to who could have done this was a pair of slippers with a convenient tag of ownership, "Property of Luna Lovegood. Thieves will be delicious."
IIIII
"No, Filius, Luna was with me and Septima all day and night," Atlas said.
"Very well," Flitwick sighed a very over-the-top sigh. "I hope you understand. I do not mean to cast about any accusations but I must do my due diligence."
"Of course," Atlas nodded.
"I just wish I could give the one responsible my compliments-… er, 'punishment'. It was quite a clever bit of spellwork and conjuration," Flitwick said before taking his leave, mentally checking off his duty as 'good enough' and content that Karma had been served.
In the chair next to Atlas in the Library, Luna desperately held in giddy giggles. Once Flitwick was gone, she let go of her self-control. She laughed freely as if a gigantic weight had been lifted from her shoulders and threw herself across Atlas' lap. Perching herself there, her arms draped around his shoulders, and kiss after kiss was laid upon his face.
"Congratulations, Luna," Atlas said when he could between kisses. "I don't think they'll be messing with you again any time soon."
Luna eventually settled into a pout, "They better not. I still can't believe someone could be that petty."
Atlas sighed, "Some people are just like that. They think the world and everyone in it owes them something."
Luna nodded in understanding, "Then it's a good thing we're here to prove them wrong!"
That made the corners of Atlas' lips quirk up and Luna felt something flutter in her stomach, "Quite."
"So… w-what now?" Luna asked nervously.
"I'm not going to turn you away just because you've gotten your revenge now, Luna. So long as you need a place to stay or someone to look after you, I'll always offer up myself first and foremost," Atlas reassured her as easily as he breathed.
The easy surety in his words made Luna's heart soar with ecstatic glee and confidence, "Good! Because this is only the beginning! There's so much we can and will do together! The world is our Moon Frog!"
"And where should we start?" Atlas asked, amusement clear in his voice.
"Uh…" Luna stuttered, momentarily sucked in by the beauty of Atlas' relaxed smirk. "A picnic! We should enjoy the weather before it gets too cold. World conquest can wait… Or we can start planning it while we eat!"
Atlas stood from his seat, effortlessly holding Luna up in the process and making her squeal with joy, "What a wonderful idea, Miss Lovegood. Shall you lead the way or should I?"
"You!" Luna quickly decided, happy to stay within Atlas' arms in a bridal carry. "Forward, my steed! First, a picnic basket and blanket! Next, the world! Mwahahaha~!"
12: A Young Veela's Debt and Quest
[AN: I'm going with the 'no such thing as a half-Veela' fan theory for this AU. There are only female Veela and any female child of a Veela is also fully Veela. A Veela can still have male children but they won't be Veela. This only applies to their daughters.]
"You are forbidden!" Her father's words echoed in Gabrielle's head.
Upon returning to France after the Quidditch World Cup that summer, Gabrielle Delacour was confronted with the unfortunate reality of her situation. She was a country and a Channel away from her savior, from the Bondmate she'd so selfishly claimed. She didn't even know his name, his occupation, or anything else about him. All she knew was he'd saved her from a fate worse than death and that her soul called out to repay that debt.
The odds seemed to be stacked against her. Along with the mystery of her angel and the distance between the two of them came other complications. Her sister and father were the next of those complications to present themselves.
Fleur made no secret of her painfully stubborn and close-minded view of the events surrounding Gabrielle's angel. She was convinced he was the same as the rest of the British Wizards they'd had the unfortunate pleasure of meeting during their short vacation. No, she was convinced he was worse.
And no matter how much Gabrielle protested and denied, defending her savior since he couldn't defend himself, Fleur's mind would not be changed. Her heels were dug in. Her heart was set. Fleur Delacour would hate Gabrielle's mysterious angel even if he personally saved someone she held dear… Oh, wait…
Unfortunately, Fleur did not see her bullheaded hypocrisy for what it was. In her mind, she was simply looking out for her baby sister. She'd come so close to losing Gabrielle and she would never let it happen again.
To that end, Fleur ushered Gabrielle out of Britain as fast as she could manage. They returned to their home in France and Fleur immediately told their father what happened from her perspective. His reaction was predictably extreme.
Sebastion Delacour was usually quite a reasonable man. That reason went out the window when it came to his family. He was a man surrounded by Veela - a wife and two daughters. He knew what that meant for their safety. They were at the peak of desirability and thus he constantly grappled with any danger that may threaten them.
What Fleur described mirrored his biggest fear for his daughters. A Wizard somehow arranging a scenario to earn the gratitude, debt, and Bond of his pure, innocent angels was something that kept him up at night since Gabrielle and Fleur were born. Just as with Fleur, Sebastion's fear that Gabrielle was being manipulated and taken advantage of blinded him to the reality of the situation from Gabrielle's perspective.
Gabrielle was not allowed to get a word in edgewise. Her father only listened to Fleur's story and Fleur only listened to her own perceived version of events. And so, Gabrielle was forbidden from seeking out her angel and practically forbidden from ever stepping foot in Britain again.
Only her Maman thought to stop for a moment and use her brain instead of paranoia, prejudice, and protectiveness. Only Apolline Delacour thought to listen to her youngest's side of the story. Only Apolline had the life experience and knowledge of their Veela nature to understand what Gabrielle meant when she said "I could offer him nothing less than everything I am".
Because Apolline had been there before. As had Sebastion, though he did not know he'd once been in the same shoes as Gabrielle's mysterious savior. He saved Apolline when they were young strangers. The only difference was that Apolline was not pushed to act on her attraction, debt, and Bond straight away as Gabrielle had been.
After 30 years together, she was finally forced to reveal that secret. She tried to convince her Bonded husband that Gabrielle's situation was not as foreign or worrying as it seemed. Even with that reveal, Sebastion would not be swayed or pacified, not when it came to his daughter.
Gabrielle was grounded, for lack of a better word, for her own safety. Which was Sebastion and Fleur's first mistake. Gabrielle was nowhere near as innocent as her father and sister seemed to think. In her Maman's own words, Gabrielle was a bit of a brat, spoiled almost rotten as the light of their family.
She didn't like being told no. Especially not when it came to something as important as her savior and the debt she owed. After more than two months of restrictions - even during school! - from her father and sister, Gabrielle was thoroughly fed up. She would be getting back to Britain and she would find her angel!
Fortunately for her, the perfect opportunity soon presented itself. The school she and Fleur attended - Beauxbatons - would be participating in the Triwizard Tournament which was being revived in Britain. Gabrielle was not interested in the silly Tournament, but she was interested in using this opportunity to vigorously search the whole of Wizarding Britain for her angel! She would start at Hogwarts and was even determined to go door to door if necessary.
She knew Fleur would be nominated as a potential champion and get to go to Hogwarts along with a select few others. But even if Gabrielle was nominated to accompany her and the rest of the school's best students, her father would certainly prevent her from going. Gabrielle easily decided that her only option was to sneak along with Beauxbatons' delegation.
Fleur and Papa were none the wiser to Gabrielle's plan. They never caught these types of things from her, seemingly willfully ignorant of how mischievous she could be. But then a letter from Maman arrived and with it, Gabrielle's blood nearly froze in her veins. Apolline did not have the same blindspot that the rest of their family did when it came to Gabrielle…
"Gabby. My dear youngest feather. I am sure by now that you are plotting ways to run off to Britain to find your Bondmate. If you are smart, you will be thinking of joining Beauxbatons and your sister when they leave on the 30th.
"While I don't necessarily approve of your likely plan, I can understand and accept that you feel the need to do this. I also know that nothing I can say will dissuade you. If I can't stop you, I shall offer you my help.
"Attached to this letter is an artifact. It should allow you to sneak aboard the Beauxbatons carriage with your sister and father none the wiser. What you do when you get to Britain is up to you. All I ask is that you keep yourself safe through any means necessary. And yes, that does mean you are allowed to use the most vicious curses your grandmother and I taught you.
"I love you, Gabrielle. I hope you find happiness and satisfaction with your savior. I expect you to bring him to visit once you win him over. If he cannot stand up to the anger of your sister and father, he was never worth your time in the first place."
Gabrielle gaped at the letter, reading it again and again. A silly little smile grew across her face as she did. Her Maman would never cease to surprise and amaze her.
Then a small broach fell out of the envelope that the letter came in. Gabrielle inspected it curiously before putting it on. It was in the shape of a small, red feather and clipped naturally onto her hair as if it was meant to be there.
To Gabrielle, the broach felt like any other accessory. She could only vaguely feel the enchanting magic and Allure literally pouring off it. Pure magic had never been her strength. Gabrielle Delacour was much more of a Social kind of girl.
Though she could only vaguely feel it, the magic of the broach radiated through her whole body, and went to work. As an heirloom passed down through the coven of Apolline's birth, the broach would have been easily recognizable to any coven-raised Veela. Many like it were in use and they were only used for one purpose. They would have seen the broach and recognized that Gabrielle was a young Veela on the traditional quest for her Bondmate.
For a Human, the broach would have done nothing. For a Veela, it was an essential and traditional tool. It masked a young Veela's Allure, leaving it only tangible to the one she had rightfully bonded with. It kept the dangers of the world away and was only meant to be used when a Veela was searching for or pursuing their Bondmate.
Gabrielle, though, only felt her Allure fade into the background. She felt her features change, becoming more mundane and hard to focus on. She did not feel the protections other than anonymity that the broach granted. Yet still, Gabrielle giggled maniacally as she practically faded into the background, unable to be noticed by any other than her Bondmate until she did something to draw attention to them both…
IIIII
"Weeeeee~! Higher! Higher!" Luna cheered, bouncing from her place on my shoulders.
"We're literally standing still, Luna," I deadpanned, hiding my amusement. "And I don't think I can just magically grow taller."
"Not with that attitude you can't!" Luna shot back. "Maybe if I pull on your ears enough, I can stretch you out!"
She did as she said she was going to, tugging on my ears. Thankfully, she didn't put much force behind it so I just rolled my eyes and left her to her fun.
I thanked the Grind and my daily Body quest for the gains I'd made over the past couple of months. One point a week wasn't much but it added up relatively quickly. I made sure to never skip out on the required exercises and I thought I'd gotten to a pretty respectable Body stat by now.
Body: 1914=33/100
Ten of those Stat increases were from the weekly Body Grind quest. The other four were from various activities I did outside of that quest. I had the strangest feeling that all of those additional increases came from sexual acts. I was certainly getting plenty of exercise in that area nowadays…
My other Stats also increased but less dramatically. I didn't have a consistent way of training either Soul or Mind like I did Body. Those increases kind of just happened as they happened and the initial lead they had was beginning to dwindle.
Mind: 339=42/100
Soul: 287=35/100
[AN: These Stat increases were happening throughout the other chapters and as time naturally progressed through the story. They're just only getting mentioned now.]
As for my Disciplines, progress was steady but again, not dramatic. I hadn't completed any other quests and had only been increasing them through training and hard work.
3 to Focus, 1 to Wanded Magic, 3 to Occlumency, 10 to Wandless Magic, 9 to Speech, 5 to Persuasion, 4 to Teaching, 2 to Notoriety, 3 to Influence Focus 233=26, Wanded Magic 501=51/100, Occlumency 303=33/100, Wandless Magic 1710=27/100, Speech 219=30/100, Persuasion 125=17/100, Teaching 384=42/100, Notoriety 72=9/100, Influence 53=8/100
It'd been almost two months since school began on September 1st and the other schools participating in the Triwizard Tournament were scheduled to arrive today. To that end, most of the Hogwarts staff and students had gathered in front of the Castle to watch them arrive. Dumbledore promised we were in for a show and I couldn't resist Luna's puppy dog eyes as she begged me to come watch with her.
This whole thing could have been organized better though. As it was, we were just standing around in the autumn Scottish chill, waiting for something to happen. Couldn't someone have thought to conjure a set of bleachers or something? I'm sure this was supposed to make some kind of statement of the dignity or unity of Hogwarts but to me, the effect fell short of the trouble we were going through to make it.
Luna was the only one with a seat and that was only because I was willing to indulge her slightly silly request for a piggyback ride. She was getting glances of what looked to be jealousy from some of the other female students but most ignored us. The fact that the jealous glances came from the students I'd tutored the most wasn't lost on me.
Even Heather and Hermione were getting in on that bit of 'fun'. They'd interacted with Luna a little bit but only through me. Luna's eccentricity seemed to mess with Hermione's sanity something fierce. She only calmed enough to try and get along with Luna after I vouched for the Fae-like girl's Sight.
"Look! Ship ahoy!" Luna's exclamation drew my attention and the attention of the impatient students around us. We looked out onto the Black Lake where she was pointing.
"I don't see anything," I said, absently adding a bit of praise at the end. "Good vocabulary though, Luna."
"Just wait for it," Luna giggled.
Sure enough, a moment or two later, something breached the surface of the Black Lake. Long poles with sails attached stretched out of the water. They were followed rather quickly by a grand sailing Galleon. As the whole ship surfaced not unlike a submarine, I was once more left in awe of magic.
"How in Merlin's name did they get that thing into the Black Lake? The charms alone on that thing must be immense…" I wondered aloud.
"Can I have a pirate's ship, Atlas?" Luna asked innocently.
"So long as you let me help build and enchant it," I agreed without realizing, my mind still caught up with theorizing how such a vessel was possible even with magic.
Luna did a little movement atop my shoulders that jostled her around slightly. I'm sure if I looked up, I would have seen her happily pumping her fists in a little jig.
"And there!" Luna exclaimed again, not long after the magical ship surfaced. "It's a bird! It's a plane! No, it's Carriage-Man!"
Again, Luna proved her Sight by spotting the next school to arrive before anyone else. Drawn by a score of what looked to be Pegasus, a carriage that seemed much too small on the outside compared to the ship soon came into view. It came close to the Castle before circling and coming to land in a clearing by Hagrid's Hutt.
"That doesn't seem very subtle," I heard Hermione say to Heather from my position near them. "Surely, a flying carriage pulled by winged horses is a violation of the Statute of Secrecy, right? At least the ship seemed to travel by magic."
That… was a good point. Assuming the carriage belonged to Beauxbatons, they couldn't possibly have flown across the Channel without attracting the attention of Muggles. Flying horses and a carriage didn't exactly scream 'slim radar profile' to me.
We didn't get to linger on that possible breach of the Statute for long. Deputy Headmistress McGonagall quickly ushered us back into the Castle and to the Great Hall to await the other schools' inevitably dramatic entrances. 'What was the point of having us line up out front then?' I wondered. This whole event was already starting to seem rather silly.
Instead of going straight there, I made a quick stop at my quarters to pick up the book of Wards I was currently working my way through. I sent Luna on ahead of me, promising to catch up with her quickly. As I entered my room, I was greeted by an unexpected visitor.
"Taking after me, eh, Shadow?" I asked rhetorically.
My familiar ignored me, preferring to spend her attention licking her paw and grooming herself.
"I get it, I get it," I said as if she'd verbally responded to me. "I brought home a stray first with Luna. I guess it's only fair for you to adopt your own."
Another black cat sat next to Shadow, watching me intensely with vibrant violet eyes that seemed oddly haunted. She (I was pretty sure at least but it wasn't like I explicitly checked) was slimmer than Shadow, almost gaunt enough that I could see her little kitty ribs.
"Had a hard time of it, kitty?" I asked the new cat, unable to shake a strange feeling of familiarity with her. Well, I guess she did resemble Shadow quite a bit.
She obviously said nothing. I wasn't expecting her to. Still, I made sure to put out an extra food and water dish for her before grabbing the book I came for. I gave her a little scratch on the head and was almost startled by the loud purr she emitted despite her slim stature.
"Right, Shadow, you can keep her as long as you promise to clean up after her and take her for walks. You two behave, yeah? I'll be back later," I joked as I got up to leave.
The new cat looked like she wanted to follow me but kept sending glances at the full food dish I'd just put down. Eventually, food seemed to win out over whatever attracted her to me. Good, she was worryingly skinny. Satisfied and putting the issue of a new cat off to deal with later, I made my way back to the Great Hall and up to my spot at the staff table, shooting Luna a smile as I opened my book to read while we waited.
Chatter abounded in the Great Hall as we waited, only ceasing when Dumbledore stood seemingly abruptly to announce the other schools. I wonder if they set up some sort of signal or other method to communicate discreetly. They must have. The entrances were too well-timed for Dumbledore to be simply guessing.
The Durmstrang was the first school to make its entrance. Clad in all-black uniforms, they marched into the Great Hall, slamming staffs against the floor and kicking up sparks as they went. Then ended the entrance with an unnecessary gymnastics routine that I thought only took away from their initial intimidation factor. Someone famous seemed to be with them if the reaction from our students was anything to go off of. I heard a lot of "Something, something, 'Krum'" at the very least.
Then Beauxbatons made their entrance and I couldn't help but blink. Huh… they were really playing into the stereotype of French sensuality. Was it normal for the Beauxbatons delegation to be entirely female? They honestly reminded me more of the cheerleaders from the World Cup than students who had come here to potentially compete in a tournament.
And for good reason too. Beauxbatons seemed to have decided that it was a good idea to put their Veela students at the front of their entrance. Allure poured off of the forward-most Beauxbatons students as they all 'Oohed' and 'Ahhed' in a borderline sexual manner designed to leave a lasting impression. I even recognized the girl in the center as the testy older sister of Gabrielle, the young Veela I'd saved.
Her eyes caught mine for a moment and the pleasant, performative facade she was putting on cracked. Her Allure roiled and I quickly decided it was best if I looked somewhere else. That decision didn't seem to help much. I could still feel her gaze burning a hole in me and her Allure on the edge of running wild with rage. No idea what I did to make her so angry with me.
My attention roamed the Great Hall, trying to find something to distract me from unexplainable Veela rage. It landed on the Beauxbatons Headmistress for a moment, wondering if her stature could be attributed to something magical in her genetics. But ultimately, what held my attention was a familiar figure slipping through the still-open Great Hall doors as if she was trying to sneak inside.
Gabrielle Delacour was just as captivating as when I rescued her during the World Cup Riot. Maybe even more now that she wasn't coming off the back of such a traumatic experience. And yet, despite her unearthly beauty, she attracted no attention aside from mine as she slipped into the Great Hall. Not even her sister seemed to recognize her.
Considering the amount of Allure pouring off of Gabrielle, going unnoticed as she was should have been impossible. She had to be doing something to conceal herself. But why could I see her then?
Answers weren't forthcoming. After their dramatic entrances, the delegations of the other schools took their seats. Two of the House tables in the Great Hall stretched and grew, making room for Beauxbatons at Ravenclaw and Durmstrang at Slytherin. Through it all, even sitting at my old House table, Gabrielle's older sister glared at me.
Gabrielle herself didn't seem to have noticed me yet. She appeared to be searching for something though… or someone considering she was walking up and down the Great Hall between the tables, examining students and paying special attention to the older years. With how strikingly attractive Gabrielle was, it was odd being the only one able to clearly see her and even feel her Allure. Well, I think Luna noticed her too but she didn't count.
Dumbledore made some announcements, formally introducing the heads of the other schools and the way the Triwizard champions would be chosen. I think, at least. Some fancy artifact that would have normally held my attention. But right now, my focus was stolen by Gabrielle's angelic figure and the way her search seemed to come closer and closer to me without resolution.
After examining each of the House tables, Gabrielle stopped to pout. Her arms crossed, her brows furrowed, and her foot tapped against the stone floor. It was adorable in a way that called for my heart to say something. Surely, I could at least say hello to her after saving her life, right?
I didn't get to do anything though. As if she sensed me about to do something to get her attention, Gabrielle looked up at the staff table. Her eyes roamed over the figures sitting there, over a still-speaking Dumbledore, over the visiting school heads, until they landed on me.
In an instant, Gabrielle's eyes lit up with recognition and it was like her whole world changed. Her pout disappeared into a beaming, joyous smile. Her Allure became visible and almost palpable and I could have sworn I saw colors that shouldn't have existed in her aura. And still, no one else noticed her.
They didn't notice her pout bloom and blossom like a flower that could have rivaled the most spectacular works of art. They didn't notice her Allure rippling through the air of the Great Hall. They didn't notice as she began to move - sprint, really - toward the staff table. And they somehow didn't notice her throwing herself bodily over the table and into my arms.
I hurried to catch her, my body reacting while my mind was still processing. Her arms wound themselves around my neck as she pulled herself up and practically slammed her lips against mine.
I'd never been a big believer in the 'fireworks when they kissed' trope. Gabrielle's lips against mine changed that. It was like our surroundings exploded into a cacophony of lights, sounds, and emotions. I felt Gabrielle's relief, exaltation, and a small bit of mischievous anticipation of what was bound to come next. I'm sure she felt my utter confusion about the current situation in the same way.
I felt a twinge of something inside me as Gabrielle pulled away. Almost like a promise for a debt to be repaid. I was still too stunned for it to be anything more than an absent thought. Her lips were so soft…
I hadn't even noticed the world had seemingly frozen around us until it started moving again. And with the restart and Gabrielle's startling action, the spell concealing her had been broken. Every eye in the Great Hall was directed at us as Gabrielle's Allure continued to run wild, now plainly visible for all who could see magic.
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled with mad amusement as he watched me unconsciously hold Gabrielle and try to get my bearings back, "Mr. White, you seem to have interrupted my speech. Where did you find such a powerful and charming young Veela? I am quite sure you did not have her just a moment ago…"
"White?" Gabrielle asked, her accent sending shivers down my spine. "Is that your name, Mon Ange?"
"Atlas White, yeah," I answered her distractedly. "Sorry, Albus, I don't know what's come over her."
"So you know the young lady?" Professor McGonagall asked, sniffing imperiously. "I must say, it is rather rude to bring a guest to the staff table without even announcing her invitation to the rest of us."
"Yeah, her name is Gabrielle Delacour. I may have saved her life a little bit," I said.
"Not just ma life, but ma purity as well," Gabrielle added 'helpfully'.
Gabrielle's words caused murmurs to spread through the intently listening crowd of the Great Hall. It seemed the implications of saving a Veela's purity were well-known. Knowing Hogwarts, I was sure the rumors would grow out of hand soon enough.
The Beauxbatons Headmistress looked confused, exasperated, but almost accepting of Gabrielle's presence. Like she was well used to the young Veela's antics. Did that mean Gabrielle didn't come to Hogwarts with them?
Gleeful clapping briefly drew my attention to a happy Luna who looked over the moon at how events were playing out. She could probably see the bond between me and Gabrielle and knowing Luna, she was probably just happy with the chaos and the prospect of another coven sister. Looking out at the students also allowed me to see the next storm as it quickly approached the staff table.
Gabrielle's older sister stomped up to the staff table and started ranting in vicious, hurried French to her sister. Even without speaking French, I was sure that most of those words shouldn't be used in pleasant company. Most of her vitriol seemed to be directed at me and I shifted uncomfortably under the unintelligible tirade. Gabrielle just giggled at her raging sister and snuggled closer into my arms.
"A quoi pensais-tu?! Gabby, écarte-toi de lui!" Fleur demanded.
[What were you thinking?! Gabby, get away from him!]
"Non," Gabrielle denied nonchalantly, still giggling in a way that was almost bratty now.
"What seems to be the problem, mademoiselle?" Dumbledore tried to mediate.
"This… ! This scheming English pig-dog! He tricks my sister!" She spat.
"I what?" I exclaimed, confused and slightly offended. "I did nothing of the sort! I saved her life!"
"To trick her! You… You take advantage of young Veela! I have seen through your lies, Devil! Please, leave my sister! Take me instead!" Her growl transitioned into a plea at the end as her Allure flared with angry, flustered heat and arousal.
Gabrielle defended me, "Fleur, I have already told you and Papa that you are wrong. I shall not be separated from my Bondmate."
Her younger sister's words did nothing to pacify Fleur's intensity, "You don't speak for yourself anymore, Gabby! You have been seduced! Hypnotized! Led astray! Your mind is not your own! He already tries to control you! It-… It should have been me!"
I was very quickly beginning to grow absolutely fed up with this woman's baseless accusations, "Right, listen here, you French tart! I interacted with her for maybe five minutes! You are being unreasonable, prejudiced, and downright disrespectful to the man who, by her own admission, saved your little sister's life! As far as I'm concerned, your anger can shove right off, you damnable Witch of a woman! And what the bloody hell do you mean it should have been you?!"
"I think that's quite enough," Dumbledore cut me off before either Fleur or I could say anything more we might come to regret. "I believe we should all take a step back to cool down. Separate the opposing parties and whatnot."
"Fine," Fleur sniffed haughtily, trying to act as if my explosion of frustration didn't affect her. "Gabby shall come with me. I do not trust her with him. Come, Gabby, Papa will hear of this. We shall fix this together."
Fleur had already started turning around as if Gabrielle obeying her was a guarantee when Gabrielle refused, "Non. You do not understand, Fleur. I am already here. The Bond is established. You won't separate us again."
"Gabrielle!" Fleur hissed, still glaring at me as if Gabrielle's refusal was somehow my fault. "Do not be silly! Will I have to get Maman for you to listen to reason?! W-Will I have to take your place?!"
Gabrielle laughed, "Maman already knows. How did you think I was able to sneak to England alongside you?"
Gabrielle's latest reveal put Fleur in a state of almost open-mouthed shock. This was just going in circles. The only way for this situation to be resolved was for one of us to be the bigger person. And Fleur certainly wasn't going to change her mind any time soon.
I sighed, "Gabrielle, go with your sister for now. I won't send you back home - mostly because I doubt it will do much to stop you - but you should probably talk to Fleur before she decides to try and claw my eyes out. And Fleur? How about trying to actually listen to your sister, yeah?"
From how furious and flustered Fleur looked at me even talking to her, I knew this would be an uphill battle. It was probably best to let Gabrielle do most of the talking and for me to see if I could get their mother on my side. For some reason, I instantly figured that their father was a lost cause.
Gabrielle pouted as I set her down but obeyed my request when I gave her a look. Fleur began to storm off, this time with Gabrielle actually following her. I couldn't understand their conversation as it lapsed back into French but it was pretty obvious that Gabrielle was teasing her sister and driving her even crazier.
Sighing again, I looked around the rest of the Great Hall. As expected, nearly everyone was watching the drama that just finished unfolding. At the staff table, Septima and Flitwick looked amused, McGonagall looked sternly disapproving, Dumbledore's eyes hadn't stopped twinkling for a moment, and the rest of the staff alternated between interested and trying to act like they weren't.
The students - both visiting and Hogwarts natives - weren't much better. Judging by the looks I was receiving from the rest of the Beauxbatons girls, not many of them thought Fleur was in the right. The Durmstrang students were mostly apathetic, though some did seem interested in the man who earned a Veela Bond.
The Hogwarts students already knew about me. Some of them were visibly struggling to reconcile their Assistant Professor with the drama they'd just witnessed. Others openly directed their jealous envy my way. The more Socially-inclined students like Lavender and Parvati looked like Christmas had come early, bearing heavy presents of juicy gossip.
Luna, of course, was still ecstatic. I'm sure nothing could dampen her excitement for having a new potential sister. The strangest reactions, to me at least, came from Heather and Hermione. I heavily suspected that Hermione had developed something of a crush on me, but when I looked at her, I didn't see the jealousy I expected. Instead, it was replaced with an odd look of consideration as if she had plans that now needed to be moved up due to this new information. Heather shot me a reassuring grin as well.
I was about to sit back down in my spot, content to try futilely to fade into the background when Dumbledore addressed me, "Atlas? Would you mind dining with us tonight? Minerva is terribly interested in your side of the story and I would like to pick your brain for suggestions on how to protect the Goblet from the younger students entering their names."
"Aye, lad, come sit. Ah refuse ta believe a teacher at our school could be guilty of the things that French girlie was accusing ye of. Give us tha hail story," Thankfully, McGonagall's anger seemed to be on my behalf because everyone knew that when her brogue came out, someone was going to feel her disappointment.
I glanced at Septima and got a shrug and a shooing hand motion in return.
"Yer lass'll be fine. All tha good ones save a Veela at some point. Long as ye properly talk to 'er, yer relationship will be fine," McGonagall reassured.
"I already told her," I absently commented as I sat down in a chair Dumbledore conjured between them.
"Good oan ye, laddie," McGonagall nodded approvingly. "Noo, spill."
"It happened at the World Cup Riot this summer. Albus here asked me to chaperone for Heather Potter and Hermione Granger. Everything was going well until the screaming started-…"
IIIII
Brief Omake by Pope Yoda 1 on my
~ The following day ~
"Atlas, please remember to use silencing charms in the future. The portraits on the 3rd Floor have been yelling, 'Spank me harder, daddy,' in both English and French all morning.
~ Dumbledore hits blunt, blowing out a dragon like Gandalf ~
"That said, excellent stamina. I'm to understand Mr. Filch received noise complaints until 4 am."
~ Blows out a trio of trolls dancing in a ballet line ~
"I had to tell him that the hallway was haunted. So now you have two options: Make sure that hallway stays haunted or look Mr. Filch in the eye and explain what happened."
"… I'll take Option 1, Headmaster."
"Very good, then. Might I recommend you gain proficiency in French? Gellert was always getting on my ass about German, and I've since found speaking the same language is an excellent bonding experience."
13: Heather's Streak Continues
Luna Lovegood hummed and skipped. She skipped and hummed. She skummed and hipped! She hupped and skimmed! Truly, life was good for Luna Lovegood.
Luna giggled to herself as well as she skipped and hummed (and hummed and skipped!) down the corridors of Hogwarts Castle, making her way to the quarters she shared with Atlas. She was ever-so thankful that she decided to approach him for help on the first night of school. It had quite literally changed everything for her.
Now, she had a place to sleep where she felt safe, a strong supervillain coven leader who wanted to keep her safe, and even the ability to keep herself safe as well! She slept in a warm bed with a silly Professor who took care of her. The Nargles avoided her and the Castle's Wrackspurt infestation seemed to be on the decline.
All because she'd become Professor Gamer's first Henchwoman! Professor Septima didn't count as a Henchwoman. She was more like the coven's mad scientist character! Yes, Luna proudly held the position of Head Hench in Atlas' villainous coven of villains.
Dark Lord? Light Lord? Gray Lord? Bah! Phooey, Luna said! Atlas was the Wizarding World's first Supervillain: Professor Gamer! And with his Henchwoman Vtuber at his side, nothing would stand in their way! Soon, their coven would take over the Wizarding World, snatching it right out from beneath the nose of the Ministry Cabal! Soon…
They were even already recruiting more members! Their numbers would swell and the whole world would come to fear them! A mad scientist to create their evil inventions and do all that boring magic math stuff. A Lovegood-seer as Head Hench. And now, a French Veela to help twist the masses to their side!
If Luna's eyes didn't lie to her (they never did), they'd soon be inducting the Girl-Who-Lived and the Smartest Witch of Her Generation into the coven too. They could join as additional Henchwomen under Luna, of course. More Hench sisters were always welcome!
The coven would grow and the world would know! Know that Professor Gamer walked among them!
They really needed a name for the whole coven though… All the coolest villain organizations had names! The League of Witches (and One Wizard)? The Suicide Coven? Atlas' Angels?
Eh, she'd run some names by Atlas later. Professor Gamer should have the final say. He was the Supervillain after all. They were all under Atlas. Mmmm… Under Atlas~ Thinking about it, he might be feeling ~pent-up~ after all that Allure earlier. Maybe she should greet him on her knees like a good Henchwoman~…
Luna's decision was already made before she even finished thinking about it. She nodded firmly. Yes, a Henchwoman's job was to take care of all the dirty parts of supervillain work. Like whacking dudes! And relieving stress! Atlas hadn't asked her to whack anyone yet so that just left making him blow the biggest, fattest, thickest loads in Luna's syrupy-sweet cunny and all over her face!
Her genius… Sometimes, it terrified her. She hurried the rest of the way to the room she was coming to call a second home. Humming and skipping (and skipping and humming!) could wait. There was stress to be relieved!
As she darted into Atlas' quarters, Luna's plan ran facefirst into an unexpected obstacle, "Oh… Hello, Miss Bella! I didn't know Atlas' mommy was a kitty-cat."
The black cat in question looked at Luna in frozen shock. It was like Luna's blatant disregard for subtlety turned her brain off and she was struggling to get it working again. A process that wasn't helped as Luna almost instantly began to strip herself of her robes. She wouldn't let something as silly as a parental visit interrupt her happy Atlas time.
Luna was down to her little lacy panties by the time the cat managed to react. She turned from a gaunt and haunted feline into a gaunt and haunted Human woman, her body morphing in an instant. Despite her tortured and disheveled features, the woman's beauty was still plainly visible.
Wild, curly, black hair fell around her shoulders, framing a dirty aristocratic face. High, perfectly-sculpted cheekbones, thin cheeks, and a sharp, defined jawline spoke of good genetics and breeding. Her magic must have been hard at work maintaining her curvy figure because despite how skinny the rest of her was, she had handful-sized breasts and wide hips beneath her tattered prison robes.
Her most striking feature was the vibrant violet eyes that were shared with her Animagus form. They burned with an inner strength that showed even through the weight of all she'd been through in her tragic life. This was a woman who'd been tortured, controlled, and forced to do things she would've never done, and yet, she persisted. She hadn't given up and now that there was a small spark of hope in her life, she was seizing it with both hands.
Spoiler: Bella
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"Wait! Please! D-Don't turn me in! I-I never meant to hurt anyone! I wasn't in control of myself! T-Those damned brothers did everything! I… I just want to see my son again…" Bellatrix Black (she cursed the name Lestrange) frantically tried to convince the girl who had caught her before coming to an abrupt halt as she realized what Luna was doing.
"W-Why are you naked?"
Luna cocked her head innocently as if the answer was obvious, "Why, to suck your son dry and hopefully make him fill me with his cream, of course. I would ask if you mind but honestly, I don't care. Atlas will be stressed after the evening he's had and it's my job to make sure he has an outlet to that stress."
"So you won't turn me in…? O-Or, tell Atlas about me hiding here?" Bellatrix asked hesitantly, internally goggling at the cojones on this little Witch.
Luna's eyes narrowed in consideration. Luna wouldn't worry Atlas with this. Not yet. Not until she could guarantee the right outcome. He'd been good to her. He deserved a happy reunion with his mother, even if she was seen by most as a murderous lunatic. Yes, Luna would deal with this herself. It was a Henchwoman's job to take care of intruders in their secret, evil lair anyway.
"Hmm… No, I don't think I will. At least, not yet. You are intruding though. You've been a very naughty mommy. And you'll need proper bathing before you re-introduce yourself to Atlas. But that just means I get to get on Atlas' mommy's good side!" Luna finished cheerfully, uncaring of her mostly nude state.
Bellatrix paused, biting her lip almost to the point of drawing blood. This… this she could work with. Her son wasn't as hopeless as she'd so irrationally feared. Of course, he wasn't! He had her genes, pure Black genes! Even if his father was a bit of a mangy mutt, he was still a Black.
She remembered… she remembered how he had whispered reassurances that they would see Atlas again through the bars of their cells… They weren't together together but he made it plainly clear that he cared about her and the miracle they'd made together. The reminders of Atlas were the only thing that kept her somewhat sane under that deplorable contract.
After everything that had happened, after everything that had been torn away from her by that controlling scheme of a marriage contract, Bellatrix only wanted one thing. She wanted her perfectly pure Black baby boy back. She wanted to see Atlas succeed where she failed. She wanted him to rebuild the House of Black and take over this damned Wizarding World! Her Atlas would show the world what true power was!
Not in despicable, domineering old-magic contracts. Not in pansy Lightness. Not in self-destructive Darkness. No, true power was in perseverance, determination, and strength of will. Just as Bellatrix had survived everything her parents and those damned brothers had thrown at her. Her baby boy would do the same. No, he would do better. Because now he had her. And she had him. Her Pure baby boy~… hehehehehhe~!
"Wow! Killer evil giggle, momma Atlas!" Luna exclaimed, knocking Bella out of her spiraling train of thought and making her remember the real world existed. "Can you train me to be a better Head Henchwoman for your son?"
"I wasn't giggling!" Bella snapped. "And yes! Anything for my baby boy! What's a Hedgewoman?!"
"Henchwoman, Miss Bella, not Hedgewoman," Luna giggled. "I'm Atlas' most trusted servant! I deal with things that are beneath the notice of an amazing Supervillain like him! Like whacking people! Or relieving his stress!"
Luna's explanation brought unfortunate memories of Bella's time under the contract's control back to the fore. She shivered, "Yes… I… may have some experience in that first field. Thank Maeve and Morgana the Dark Lord was gay…"
All the lives she'd been forced to take flashed before Bella's eyes. Every ounce of pain she'd caused reflected back onto her. She found herself frozen inside her own mind again, unable to do anything but watch as her body danced to the strings of cruel masters. But before she could spiral into trauma and hopelessness, Bella felt a slim body press itself against her, pulling her focus back to the real world.
Luna cooed, hugging her mother-in-law-in-all-but-name, "It's okay, Miss Bella. That wasn't you. You weren't in control. You're safe now. They're dead, the contract is broken, and you'll never be subjected to a violation like that again."
Bella's hyperventilating slowly slowed to deep breaths thanks to the little waif of a Witch holding her. For the first time in much more than a decade, Bella felt tears well up in her eyes. They fell silently, her catharsis going unacknowledged and yet everything she needed at the same time.
Eventually, Bella changed the subject with barely a quiver in her voice, "So… my son's a Dark Lord?"
Luna's reply was light and airy, driving away the rest of Bella's lingering demons for a moment as she learned more about the last important thing in her life, "Don't be silly, Miss Bella! Atlas isn't a Dark Lord! He's a Supervillain! Dark Lords are so cliche. All that fear and terror can't be very productive. Atlas is riding a new wave and taking all of us along with him!"
"I'm… not sure I understand…"
"That's okay! Atlas doesn't understand either! That's why it's our job as Henchwomen to make him into the Supervillain he deserves to be!" Luna smiled gaily. "It's all about Presentation!"
"I… see…" Bella did not see.
"Oh, pooh, I'm making a mess of this. Here, I'll explain as we get you cleaned up," Luna said, pulling Bella along behind her to the suite's attached bathroom but not before stopping to grab a stack of strangely Muggle-looking magazines. "Quite frankly, Dark Lords have terrible PR-…"
Bella was quickly pulled into Luna's flow, listening with confused interest as Luna rambled about 'supers' and 'Rogue's galleries' and 'Presentation'. She was introduced to the colorful nonfiction world of Muggle comics in the bath, flipping through the vibrant pages as Luna happily scrubbed her clean.
It was… nice. No, it was everything Bella hadn't even known she was missing. A dutiful daughter-in-law aiding her and disregarding the fearsome reputation she'd developed under contract. Luna didn't seem to care about that one whit. She simply rambled on and on about powers and plots and damsels-in-distress and most importantly, Atlas.
Bella listened, absorbing and internalizing every ounce of information. She would never be the version of herself from before the contract. That Bella was long dead, killed by everything she'd been forced to do in the service of those damned brothers and their daft Dark Lord.
But another version of Bella was still here, still alive through years and years of uncontrollable suffering - both her own and what she'd been forced to inflict. That almost-hollow shell of Bella soaked up Luna's cheerful care like a sponge, latching onto every tidbit she could pick up about the only thing that mattered.
Her baby boy had to grow up all by himself and Bella knew basically nothing about him. In that sense, Luna was a gold mine. And Bella was beginning to think she was the perfect fit for her son's 'Head Henchwoman'. Perhaps even better than his broken mother could ever be…
Luna thought Atlas was just as amazing as Bella knew he had to be. She was willing to give everything she had to Atlas and his coven. As it should be, Bella's mind correctly asserted. Her baby boy should never be alone again.
Bellatrix Black, a once subjugated woman, was slowly starting to heal, aided by Luna's infectious spirit and firsthand knowledge of the last light of her life. As she learned more about Atlas - his achievements, his temperament, and his relationships -, not-quite-motherly pride sprouted in her chest. It was bittersweet, tainted by decades of unavoidable absence, but it was enough. Enough to partially soothe the deep-seated scars on her heart. Enough to act as a foundation for this new Bella. Enough to stoke the flames of obsession that had kept her even partially whole while under the contract's control…
IIIII
"-And if you add this little twist," Dumbledore said, lecturing as he worked. "The wards will naturally meld together into a sturdier form."
I nodded, making sure to take note of Dumbledore's almost effortless wand movement, "I see. Strangely enough, ward crafting like this reminds me of weaving with string. Especially with how all of your wards interlock to form something bigger than they would be individually."
"An apt comparison," Dumbledore smiled genially at me. "It takes quite the sensitive Wizard or Witch to sense wards like that."
"Is that true?" I asked, somewhat surprised. "I thought all Magicals could get a feel for magic like that…"
"Not as such," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Most are content to remain willfully ignorant of the true workings of their gifts."
"What a shame."
Dumbledore chuckled in agreement, "Quite. Now, it is getting late and I don't believe there is anything more we can do here. Thank you for indulging an old teacher like me, Atlas. I shan't take any more of your time."
"Please, Albus, you haven't wasted a single second of my time," I protested. "Learning is not just a passion of mine, but a way of life. The Grind is eternal."
"The Grind?" My strange phrase was greeted with a raised eyebrow from Dumbledore.
"Just another word for hard work," I answered.
"Hmm, what an interesting turn of phrase. I may find myself using it now and again. Say, does it apply to paperwork and letters as well as learning?" Dumbledore asked.
I shrugged, "I don't see why it wouldn't. The Grind is more of a mindset than anything else. A determination to get something done or to just see progress."
"Wonderful," Dumbledore clapped his hands together lightly. "Well, if you need anything more from me tonight, I shall be in my office, 'Grinding' away, as you say."
I walked to the door of the Great Hall with him before we went our separate ways. As he left, I took off my glasses to clean them with a quick spell. Today had been a long day. Fulfilling but very busy. Only after Dumbledore had turned the nearest corner did I allow myself to check the System notifications that had been stacking up since after the evening's feast.
5 to Defense, 2 to Magic Theory, 2 to Charms, 15 to Wards Defense 235=28/100, Magic Theory 602=62, Charms 492=51/100, Wards 1515=30/100
If I ever doubted it, this evening would have reinforced Dumbledore's reputation in my mind. When it came to magic, he was like a force of nature in Human form. And the most impressive part about him wasn't his power. It was his skill and control, earned over a century of study and practice.
A single ward crafting session with him quite literally doubled my Wards Discipline. Then there was the increase to my Magic Theory, my highest Discipline. It was the first one since I finished the Wandless Magic Quest and I only had Dumbledore's unique and nuanced view on magic to thank for that progress.
After the evening's feast ended, Dumbledore asked me if I was willing to accompany him to help set up the wards around the Goblet of Fire. That was the artifact, the method of choosing champions, that I'd ignored for more important things when it was introduced. I said as much to Dumbledore and he simply chuckled, understanding that my attention had been stolen by Gabrielle and our Bond.
He introduced the artifact again and this time I made sure to pay attention. As far as magical artifacts went, the Goblet was actually a recent invention. It only dated back to 1792 when it played a key role in making that tournament the last Triwizard Tournament until this one.
Half of the reason the Triwizard Tournament was originally canceled was because of the tournament's notorious death toll. The other half was because of the first use of the Goblet. The Goblet's ability to bind itself to a person's magic and force them to compete was the final straw in the life of the Triwizard Tournament.
Before the Goblet, champions simply signed contracts with plentiful escape clauses that allowed them to quit the tournament if they were unable or unwilling to compete. The Goblet had no such safety net. When I asked why they were even using the Goblet if it was such an ill-thought-out artifact, Dumbledore answered that he didn't have a choice in the matter. The Ministry of Magic insisted that the Goblet be used to select the champions. Something about how 'ironic' and 'symbolic' it would be to restart the tournament with the artifact that ended it.
As usual, I thought the Ministry was a circus run by daft morons. Thankfully, Dumbledore seemed to share my opinion. He was dead set on doing all that he could to prevent the worst from happening due to the Goblet's inclusion. As such, he was personally casting the wards that would limit who could enter as champion, hopefully creating the safety net that the Goblet lacked.
Seeing Dumbledore putting in the work, the other school Heads and some of the Professors also joined briefly. None of them went to the same extent as Dumbledore though. They would cast a few spells before retiring for the night. By comparison, Dumbledore spent nearly three hours casting a complex Age Line and other precautions. He was even explaining them to me and I only grasped some of the ward effects he described.
The only other person who stayed the entire time in the Great Hall with us was Professor Moody. He kept his distance though, constantly scanning the surroundings and Dumbledore's casting with a fixed expression and that creepy magical eye of his. He left slightly before we did, not sticking around for our unrelated conversation. According to Dumbledore, Moody's catchphrase was "Constant Vigilance!"
I didn't disagree with that catchphrase, per se. It seemed like good advice. But something about Professor Moody sent shivers down my spine. Maybe it was the way his magical eye seemed to be constantly looking at and through me at the same time… He was a retired auror, though, so a little paranoia was easy enough to accept.
I made my way back to my quarters, still giddy from the amount of progress I'd made in the Grind tonight. And it was only like 10 o'clock. There was still plenty of time left in the night to Grind. Even if I did feel slightly drained mentally from Gabrielle and the ward crafting, I wouldn't let that stop my Grind. Maybe a short break before we got started though, yeah?
"I'm back," I announced as I walked into the room I was now sharing with Luna and sometimes Septima. "Hey, Shadow, what happened to your little friend?"
"Oh!" A little startled noise from the attached bathroom told me Luna was already there. "Atlas! Oh, pooh, what time is it? Wait right there! I'll be right out!"
I did as Luna asked, making myself comfortable by petting my familiar, "You know you don't have to greet me at the door, right? It's nice but your whole life doesn't have to revolve around me, Luna."
Luna came skipping out of the bathroom naked as the day she was born aside from the tiniest, laciest pair of panties I'd ever seen and a bright smile on her face, "Of course it does and of course I do, Atlas! What kind of Henchwoman would I be if I didn't even greet you at the door with options like 'Dinner, a bath, or me'?"
"What kind of Henchwoman, indeed…" I said, amused and enjoying the view Luna was eagerly presenting me with.
She came to a stop in front of me and fell to her knees, still smiling serenely up at me as she 'assumed the position', "Now… You're late, Master! I know you've had a busy day. Would you like me to relieve your stress with my sticky, slippery, sloppy, suction, special surprise? That way you can do all of your evil supervillain plans stress-free!"
"Good alliteration, Luna," I absently praised, distracted by our new feline guest coming out of the bathroom behind Luna. "Did you bathe the new cat?"
Luna nodded, "Bella. Her name is Bella."
"I see. Well, nice to meet you, Bella. Welcome to the family," The poor cat practically teared up at my words.
"Oh! She's so happy and pretty and clean! Can't you see, Master?" Luna held the cat up in front of her, ignoring the way it squirmed slightly before going limp as if accepting its fate.
"I can. Good job, Luna," I praised Luna again, trying and failing to not get distracted by the way she cradled the black feline to her perky breasts. "You, uh, said something about a special, stress-relieving surprise…?"
"I did!" Luna perked up like her breasts, dropping the cat and letting it scamper to the side as she knee-walked closer until her face was right in front of my clothed bulge and she was looking up at me with eager eyes.
"Would you like me to… take care of you, Master~?" She asked as innocently as if she was asking if I wanted a cuppa tea.
I tried to ignore the way her new title for me sent shivers of almost egotistical excitement down my spine, "Since… Since when did I become 'Master'?"
Luna's head tilted to the side slightly as if she was confused by something that should have been obvious, "Since always, Master. I'm your Head Henchwoman. So of course you're my Master. We can't let the supervillain hierarchy get confusing.
"Professor Gamer is above Henchwoman Vtuber. Mad Scientist Vector is on a side hierarchy because everyone knows you don't mess with the person who builds you cool stuff. Gabrielle will be under you and sometimes me as our PR and Propaganda Manager when she inevitably joins our villainous coven!"
"I-…" Nope, now was not the time to be arguing with Luna's idea that we were Supervillains. Instead, I just silently accepted her as the lovable oddity she was and began taking off my clothes. My cock throbbed as I took my pants off, desperate to be freed and desperate for the relief Luna was offering.
Luna smiled up at me as if she knew she'd just scored some kind of point over me. That slightly smug expression shifted into eager, undisguised glee as my manhood sprang out in front of her face. She took me in both hands, opened wide, and wasted no time giving my cock the attention it needed at the moment.
My head naturally fell backward as Luna exercised her recently acquired sexual skills. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Bella, our new cat, watching us with that fixation of a cat watching a bird through a window. It was a bit odd but I was used to a bit of oddness in my life. And with Luna lovingly worshipping my cock, it was easy to put Bella out of my mind as I usually did for Shadow.
Luna's lips laid featherlight kisses all around my head and her nimble tongue swiped away the beads of precum that quickly began to collect at my tip. I was more than happy to let her 'win' this round. It wasn't like I was actually going to become the Wizarding World's first Supervillain, right…?
IIIII
From over my shoulder, Septima pointed eagerly at a portion of the book we were reading together, "This is my favorite part! The way Caecilia the IV flips the previously accepted facts of Roman Astronomy on their head is inspiring! She completely changed the way the field of Arithmancy viewed planetary constants!"
I smirked internally. It was always so cute how passionate she got when it came to Arithmancy. Even if we were in public, she hardly bothered to maintain her stern Professor facade when it came to her interests. It was also great to see the reactions of the students who didn't know about this side of Septima. The way she practically glowed as she ranted and rambled excitedly had taken more than a few breaths away.
Septima and I had just finished our dinners and were wasting time with a good book on Historical Arithmancy until the real festivities of the evening started. Not that either of us cared much about the festivities in this case. But the champions of the Triwizard Tournament were about to be selected and as Hogwarts Professors, we were sort of obligated to at least be here.
It was Halloween at Hogwarts and the entire population of the Castle had gathered in the Great Hall. The air was alive with electric excitement. For the past three years, Halloween meant something interesting or terrible would happen that would inevitably involve the Girl-Who-Lived. This year, it meant the start of the Triwizard Tournament. Hopefully, it would also be the year to break Heather's streak.
Alas, that was not to be. The universe seemed deadset on Heather Potter living in interesting times. The selection began and the Goblet of Fire flared up, spitting out three names, each as the chosen champion for their school. Cedric Diggory for Hogwarts, Victor Krum for Durmstrang, and Fleur Delacour for Beauxbatons. For a moment, Fleur lit up from the cheers and excitement of being chosen. Then her gaze landed on me politely clapping and her visage was clouded by a scowl.
The three champions were ushered into a side room and Dumbledore turned back to address the Great Hall. He barely got a word out before the Goblet flared again unexpectedly and a fourth name was spat out.
"Heather… Potter…" Dumbledore read slowly, his typically calm face paling as he realized what the piece of paper represented.
Almost instantly, the Great Hall descended into scandal and outrage. Murmured accusations and insults were directed at Heather who looked both too stunned to move and seemingly resigned to her fate at the same time. The resignation on her face, as if some part of her had been expecting this, rubbed me the wrong way.
She was called up again and rose stiffly to comply. The vitriol from the rest of the students only increased as she woodenly went along with events. As if she had any other choice. And she shouldn't have to go through this alone. Thankfully, as Heather was being directed into the side room with the other champions, Dumbledore caught my eye.
An understanding passed between us in an instant. This was one of those situations where his hands were tied. Where he couldn't do anything because of the fallout both he and Heather would see. And as he'd said about Luna's bullying situation, this was why he had teachers like me. Teachers who could do something.
I rose from my spot at the staff table, my mind racing as I gave Septima a quick peck. She knew me well enough to know I would feel the need to help Heather. I caught up to the unexpected fourth champion before she made it into the side room.
There was a distant look in Heather's eyes as if she still hadn't processed what was happening, "A-Atlas? I… I didn't… do it. I didn't enter my name…"
"I believe you," I reassured her. "But they don't. Think you're up for giving 'em a piece of your mind?"
Heather's gaze darted out over the rest of the Great Hall, seemingly noticing the jeers and complaints of the rest of the students for the first time. Instead of quailing under the attention, it lit a fire in Heather's eyes. There she was. The Heather I knew wouldn't take that shit lying down. She could be a feisty firecracker when she was pressed like this.
She waved her hand and in a powerful display of Wandless (Accidental) Magic that I'm sure went over most of the students' heads, shot off the sound of a cannon blast that silenced the Great Hall.
"Right! I didn't enter my name in the bloody cup! I didn't ask anyone else to enter my name! And I don't want any part of this! I don't care about the fame or prize bullshite! I've got enough of that just from being myself! If I don't have to compete, I won't! So whatever you think of me, take it and shove it up yer bloody arses!" Heather's rant was answered with deafening silence.
She didn't wait for the crowd's reaction, grabbing my hand and pulling me along behind her as she stomped into the side room, "C'mon, Atlas, screw these gits."
In the side room, we found the other three champions waiting around for something to happen. Fleur saw me and any happiness she might have felt instantly dissolved into hate. She didn't even bother to address me, instead favoring Heather with a question.
"What is it? Are we needed back in the Hall?" Fleur asked.
"Fuck if I know," Heather snorted rudely, dragging me to stand in a corner without acknowledging the other champions and never letting go of her vise-like grip on my hand.
Soon enough, we were joined by the rest of the tournament's organizers. The other school Heads immediately gravitated toward their champions.
Dumbledore looked to be on the verge of full-blown laughter, his eyes twinkling something fierce, "I was going to ask if Heather entered her name in the Goblet of Fire but I believe her wonderful little oration should have made her opinion on the subject clear."
"Next time, Ms. Potter," Professor McGonagall chastised, though it was obvious her heart wasn't in it from the barely smothered smile threatening her face. "Please spare us the profanity. I shall let it slide this time because of the… unique events of tonight. As an aside, I feel I don't tell you often enough how much of your mother I see in you."
"So we are just supposed to accept this girl's word?!" Madame Maxime demanded.
"No, no, of course not," Dumbledore allowed. "There will be an extensive investigation as to how this happened. But I happen to believe young Heather when she says she did not enter her name or desire to be in this tournament at all. She is not the type to lie about this sort of thing."
Madame Maxime and Headmaster Karkaroff grumbled but ultimately accepted Dumbledore's words. He may not have been able to do anything directly for Heather, but his words still held immense weight.
"But she'll still be forced to compete?" I asked.
"She has to. The Goblet is a magically binding contract. If she doesn't, she'll lose her magic," Crouch, the main ministry representative for the tournament, spat arrogantly in a gravelly voice as if his word was final just because it came out of his mouth.
"You want the Girl-Who-Lived… to compete in life-threatening tasks… meant for NEWT-level students… while she's a Fourth Year?" I shot back, my tone flat and making it plainly clear I thought he was an idiot.
Crouch blustered but couldn't seem to find the words to refute me. The others in the room seemed to be having second thoughts about this whole situation because of me as well. Especially when I pointed out the difference between Heather and the other champions. And the potential political consequences of killing off the Girl-Who-Lived because of a damned tournament…
"Right, then I'm going to take it onto myself to be the only one here willing to try and keep Heather alive. As far as anyone else should be concerned, Heather Potter is my ward for the duration of the tournament," I stated, daring someone to challenge me on this.
"Yesssss… !" Heather hissed under her breath beside me.
Crouch seemed more than willing to oblige my challenge, "You can't! Professors can't help their school's champion. It's against tournament rules."
"Oh?" I tilted my head. "I guess it's a good thing Heather isn't the Hogwarts champion then. I certainly didn't hear a 'Hogwarts' after her name when she was called."
Dumbledore, eyes twinkling, agreed with my statement, "He's quite right. There was nothing on the slip of paper other than Heather's name. I believe the Goblet was tricked into thinking there were four schools and Heather was submitted for that nonexistent school by whomever is behind this scheme."
I nodded, "There. Settled. If anyone has any more problems with this… well, I quite literally couldn't care less. My loyalty is to Heather in this situation, not any of you."
Heather's hand squeezed mine just a little bit tighter. I glared flatly at everyone who looked like they might protest. Fleur met my glare with one of her own. That girl really didn't like me. I just had to hope she eventually got over it for Gabrielle's sake.
"I believe this is a fair concession to make on Heather's behalf. If she is forced to compete, she should have all the help she can ask for," Dumbledore said. "With that decided, there is some information about the tournament that we must share with the champions-…"
I stopped paying direct attention as a System notification popped up in my vision.
New Quest Unlocked: The Triwizard Tournament Condition(s): Keep Heather Potter alive through the Triwizard Tournament. Quest bonuses will be given for exceptional performance by Heather Potter during the three (3) tasks. Also, deal with Lord Voldemort once and for all…
Rewards: One (1) Perk, One (1) Title, 5 to EVERYTHING, Potter Family Magic Unlocked
Oh… Oh. I guess that gives me a pretty good hint of how Heather ended up in the tournament. Now I just have to figure out who at Hogwarts was working for Voldemort. And figure out a way to kill a Dark Lord who doesn't want to stay dead…
No matter. This was just more motivation for the Grind.
[AN: The bit of Goblet lore isn't canon but I thought it was more interesting this way. I don't think I've seen a Goblet that isn't ancient and powerful. This is an AU anyway.]
13.5: WWO (PHO-style Interlude)
"Cedric! Ceddy! Ceddy Bear! Just the guy we wanted to see," George (or was it Fred?) said, throwing an arm over Cedric Diggory's shoulder.
Fred (or was it George?) continued where his twin left off, "How would you like to hop aboard the latest train taking over the Castle?"
Cedric sighed but humored the notorious prankster twins, "Alright, guys, just… I've got a lot on my plate at the moment. With the tournament and everything, you know? So keep it brief, yeah?"
"We'll keep our pitch-…"
"Short and sweet!"
One of the twins then produced a piece of parchment from somewhere, "Introducing! Our latest invention!"
"Ever feel like you can't keep up with all the gossip around the Castle?" Geord asked.
"Of course not," Frege answered for Cedric. "Handsome, approachable guy like you is probably rolling secrets."
"So why not share those secrets with the rest of the Castle?"
"I don't know about this, guys. You're making it sound kind of nefarious," Cedric tried to talk his way out of whatever potential scheme the twins wanted to involve him in.
"Perish the very thought!"
"Indeed, my noble Hufflepuffle! There isn't a nefarious bone in either of our bodies!"
"This invention is purely a tool for socialization!"
"And a revolutionary one at that!"
"It's already taking over the Castle!"
"Yeah, Ceddy Bear. You're missing out!"
Cedric sighed again, "Just get on with it…"
"Our pleasure! This glorious bit of magic and enchanting-…" One twin led, holding up the parchment for Cedric to see.
The other twin finished, "Is the WWO! Witches and Wizards On-parchment!"
"Think of it like the Great Hall."
"But you can talk to everyone and everyone can talk to you all at once!"
"It's a place to gather and a way to send and receive letters."
"It's the next big thing!"
"Gryffindor loves them."
"So does Ravenclaw."
"We're spreading them around Hufflepuff now."
"Even the other schools have received some."
Cedric frowned, "Not Slytherin? That doesn't seem very fair, guys."
One of the twins let out a dramatic, put-on sigh, "Fiiiiinnnneeee~… Just for you, Ceddy Bear, we'll give them to Slytherin next."
"We'll have to upcharge them a bit though."
"Not for you, Ceddy Bear. Just a single Sickle and the Castle's newest gossip network is yours for the taking!"
"Well…" Cedric considered it. In the end, though, his answer was obvious. No Hufflepuff could resist the potential for gossip. "I'll take it."
Welcome to the Witches and Wizards On-Parchment message boards.
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Topic: WWO Introductory Letter (And Quidditch)
In: Boards General
TerribleTwins1 (Original Poster) (Prankster) (Gryffindor) (Beater)
Posted On Oct 28th, 1994:
Welcome! GentleWizards and NobleWitches! To the newest invention of the handsome and dashing Weasley twins!
With Quidditch canceled this year (the scandal!), we've found our time quite free. This is the result.
So we welcome you all! Spread your gossip and secrets! Pull pranks! And most of all, have fun!
(Showing page 1 of 4)
TerribleTwinsA (Prankster) (Gryffindor) (Beater)
Replied On Oct 28th 1994:
Don't forget brilliant and generous, my worse half!
How about that Quidditch ban, huh? Wood was literally trying to walk up the walls the last time I saw him!
RedheadHunter (Gryffindor) (Chaser) (Vixen)
Replied On Oct 28th 1994:
You guys have really outdone yourself this time. Good on, you two.
And, yeah, Wood might actually go insane before the end of the year.
TerribleTwins1 (Original Poster) (Prankster) (Gryffindor) (Beater)
Replied On Oct 28th 1994:
Angelina! What a signature! Oh my, oh me, I'm about to act up!
TerribleTwinsA (Prankster) (Gryffindor) (Beater)
Replied On Oct 28th 1994:
Piss off, Frege! She obviously means me, the more handsome half of our terrible twosome.
RedheadHunter (Gryffindor) (Chaser) (Vixen)
Replied On Oct 28th 1994:
Boys, boys, there's more than enough of me and Alicia to go around.
SpinningOnIt (Gryffindor) (Chaser)
Replied On Oct 28th 1994:
Uhm… Don't I get a choice in all this?
RedheadHunter (Gryffindor) (Chaser) (Vixen)
Replied On Oct 28th 1994:
Nope~ And we're drafting Katie too, Alicia. Gotta keep our number advantage up so we can keep these two troublemakers in line.
HellsBells (Gryffindor) (Chaser)
Replied On Oct 28th 1994:
Hehehe~ I'm always down to improve our ~teamwork~
HardAsWood (Gryffindor) (Keeper) (Wood)
Replied On Oct 28th 1994:
What's this? Can I eat it? Can it fly? Can I throw it through hoops? Can it make my muscles bigger?!
No? I don't care then. Wake me up when we can win the Cup again. This has to be some cruel dream…
End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4
(Showing page 2 of 4)
GreenEyedGirl (Gryffindor) (Seeker) (Girl-Who-Lived)
Replied On Oct 28th 1994:
This is wicked, guys.
One question. What does the 'O' in WWO stand for?
TerribleTwinsA (Prankster) (Gryffindor) (Beater)
Replied On Oct 28th 1994:
On-parchment, of course. What else would it stand for?
GreenEyedGirl (Gryffindor) (Seeker) (Girl-Who-Lived)
Replied On Oct 28th 1994:
Hahahahaha! Hermione's gonna flip!
ChangSenpai (Ravenclaw) (Seeker)
Replied On Oct 29th 1994:
I didn't know she was that athletic. Why would she flip?
Also, am I using this thing right?
GreenEyedGirl (Gryffindor) (Seeker) (Girl-Who-Lived)
Replied On Oct 29th 1994:
It's… a figure of speech. And I said it because Muggles already have something very similar to this. They call it 'Online'.
And yeah, Hot-Stuff, you're doing fine. Just treat it as a letter that people can reply to immediately.
TerribleTwinsA (Prankster) (Gryffindor) (Beater)
Replied On Oct 29th 1994:
On-line? Like fishing or something?
TerribleTwins1 (Original Poster) (Prankster) (Gryffindor) (Beater)
Replied On Oct 29th 1994:
No, my dull brother! (You're lucky you're the handsome one). Obviously, they call it that because they have to queue to use it.
Heather'sMinder (Gryffindor) (Brilliant But Scary)
Replied On Oct 29th 1994:
… I am entirely unqualified to try and explain the internet to Wizards.
Still, this is a brilliant bit of charmwork, Fred and George. May I see your notes?
End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4
Topic: New Professor in the Highlands
In: Boards Hoggy Gossip
FabulouslyLavender (Original Poster) (Fabulous) (Gryffindor) (Queen Bee)
Posted On Oct 30th 1994:
Okay, Witches, as Queen Bee of Gryffindor, I officially call this session of Hogwarts Gossip into motion. This will be our first session in this new format so if anyone has any complaints, please speak up.
Now, straight to business. Thoughts on the Castle's newest hunk of meat?
(Showing page 1 of 8)
IceQueen (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Oct 30th 1994:
I like that Professor White is competent and unbiased. That is all.
IcePrincess (Slytherin) (Princess)
Replied On Oct 30th 1994:
And dashing and dark and dreamy! You know that thing where he looks so intensely at something he's reading? *swoooon~*
IceQueen (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Oct 30th 1994:
Astoria, no!
IcePrincess (Slytherin) (Princess)
Replied On Oct 30th 1994:
Astoria, yes! Besides, you're already betrothed, Daphne. I'm still a free agent~ Maybe he likes his girls a little younger
IceQueen (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Oct 30th 1994:
Ugh, don't! Don't remind me of that un-Slytherin buffoon. If that's how you wish to play, I may as well be a free agent as well. With the death of Lord Malfoy, it's no secret that that contract will soon fall through.
FabulouslyLavender (Original Poster) (Fabulous) (Gryffindor) (Queen Bee)
Replied On Oct 30th 1994:
Right, Pure-Blood family drama is always appreciated, girls. But let's try to keep this on topic.
BoningBones (Hufflepuff)
Replied On Oct 30th 1994:
He's a good teacher. Especially if you get him alone. Has anyone else gone to his individual tutoring sessions?
Shiva'sBride (Gryffindor) (Indian Goddess) (Love)
Replied On Oct 30th 1994:
I wish. It's like he's constantly avoiding me and Lav.
BoningBones (Hufflepuff)
Replied On Oct 30th 1994:
Oh Gee! After the way you two acted in our first class with him… I WONDER WHY!
End of Page. 1, 2, 3… 6, 7, 8
(Showing page 2 of 8)
Heather'sMinder (Gryffindor) (Brilliant But Scary)
Replied On Oct 30th 1994:
I find this whole thread a disturbing breach of privacy… I resent the idea that Professor Atlas is merely 'new meat'.
But for the record, I think Professor Atlas is one of the best teachers we've had. He knows how to engage his students and he knows the material. He's not afraid to try new things, to take risks when it comes to teaching.
And yes, I also have to admit he is quite appealing to the eye. His features remind me of a disgraced storybook noble in a way. Dark, dashing, and dangerous (if you saw him do what I did, you'd understand that last descriptor).
His handsome looks are not his only positive trait though. He's very intelligent (as one would expect from a Professor as young as him). He's powerful and desirable (as demonstrated by his relationship with Professor Vector). And perhaps most importantly, he's open, honest, and unashamed to be himself.
He can play the dashing, dangerous rogue just as well as he can play the intelligent mentor figure. It serves to reason that this flexibility makes him a prime target for fantasy (sexual or romantic) amongst the students. Add in his position of authority, and it's a wonder no one has tried to jump him yet.
BoningBones (Hufflepuff)
Replied On Oct 30th 1994:
…
Shiva'sBride (Gryffindor) (Indian Goddess) (Love)
Replied On Oct 30th 1994:
…
IceQueen (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Oct 30th 1994:
…
FabulouslyLavender (Original Poster) (Fabulous) (Gryffindor) (Queen Bee)
Replied On Oct 30th 1994:
smirk* It's always the smart and quiet ones.
Shiva'sBride (Gryffindor) (Indian Goddess) (Love)
Replied On Oct 30th 1994:
Since when has Hermione ever been quiet?
FabulouslyLavender (Original Poster) (Fabulous) (Gryffindor) (Queen Bee)
Replied On Oct 30th 1994:
Good point. It's always the smart, bookish ones then.
Does 'Professor Atlas' know how close you two are, Hermione?
Heather'sMinder (Gryffindor) (Brilliant But Scary)
Replied On Oct 30th 1994:
I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about.
ChangSenpai (Ravenclaw) (Seeker)
Replied On Oct 30th 1994:
Get it, girl! Wax poetic! Love freely! Don't worry about the teasing. We all understand. That's why we're here, after all.
IcePrincess (Slytherin) (Princess)
Replied On Oct 30th 1994:
He's dating Professor Vector? That makes so much sense! They're ~sooooo~ cute together.
End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4… 6, 7, 8
(Showing page 3 of 8)
ChangSenpai (Ravenclaw) (Seeker)
Replied On Oct 30th 1994:
Yeah but I think it's the 'traditional' kind of relationship. You know the kind I'm talking about.
(Source: Flitwick's loose lips and the way Professor Vector interacts with Professor Sinistra)
Heather'sMinder (Gryffindor) (Brilliant But Scary)
Replied On Oct 30th 1994:
Traditional? What do you mean?
ChangSenpai (Ravenclaw) (Seeker)
Replied On Oct 30th 1994:
It's common enough but not usually spoken of publicly… Especially not in Britain…
I have a book I can lend you that goes more in-depth about traditional Wizarding relationships, Hermione.
Heather'sMinder (Gryffindor) (Brilliant But Scary)
Replied On Oct 30th 1994:
That would be wonderful! Thank you!
PettyPansy (Slytherin) (Not Not Neutral)
Replied On Oct 30th 1994:
So… a traditional Wizarding relationship and he looks like (and I quote) 'a disgraced storybook noble'.
Are we sure he's not secretly a Pure-Blood?
IceQueen (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Oct 30th 1994:
It's something I've considered.
Shiva'sBride (Gryffindor) (Indian Goddess) (Love)
Replied On Oct 30th 1994:
Me too.
BoningBones (Hufflepuff)
Replied On Oct 30th 1994:
… Me three.
IceQueen (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Oct 30th 1994:
We have no real evidence to support that theory though. If he is one, he doesn't seem to realize.
PettyPansy (Slytherin) (Not Not Neutral)
Replied On Oct 30th 1994:
Got it. Possible but not confirmed. Still worth consideration.
Didn't he take in the Lovegood twit at the beginning of the year as well? Add patron saint of generosity to Granger's poetic waxing.
End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8
(Showing page 4 of 8)
ChangSenpai (Ravenclaw) (Seeker)
Replied On Oct 30th 1994:
Don't say her name! *hissed whisper* You'll summon her!
HenchwomanVtuber (Ravenclaw) (LoveGooder) (Coven Member #2) (Shh, It's a Secret)
Replied On Oct 30th 1994:
You rang? Oh my! An entire thread dedicated to Atlas! How exciting! How fortuitous!
Hermione's right. Atlas is quite amazing. He lets me stay with him and he's even teaching me how to proactively defend myself!
ChangSenpai (Ravenclaw) (Seeker)
Replied On Oct 30th 1994:
Oh, Amaterasu… He's responsible for Lovegood's reign of terror and revenge. Not that it isn't deserved but still… Mandy hasn't been able to stop twitching for weeks. She still mumbles things about 'pudding' and 'Wrackspurts' in her sleep.
HenchwomanVtuber (Ravenclaw) (LoveGooder) (Coven Member #2) (Shh, It's a Secret)
Replied On Oct 30th 1994:
evil laugh* Mwahahahahaha~! First, Ravenclaw Tower! Next, the world!
Heather'sMinder (Gryffindor) (Brilliant But Scary)
Replied On Oct 30th 1994:
Luna! You're living with him?!
Shiva'sBride (Gryffindor) (Indian Goddess) (Love)
Replied On Oct 30th 1994:
So we're just going to pretend the other bit didn't happen? Okay, cool.
FabulouslyLavender (Original Poster) (Fabulous) (Gryffindor) (Queen Bee)
Replied On Oct 30th 1994:
Shhh, Parv! This is getting good *grabs popcorn*
HenchwomanVtuber (Ravenclaw) (LoveGooder) (Coven Member #2) (Shh, It's a Secret)
Replied On Oct 30th 1994:
I am! We sleep in the same bed and he's very nice about it all. Doesn't even complain when he wakes up with me wrapped around him… Er, accidentally.
Heather'sMinder (Gryffindor) (Brilliant But Scary)
Replied On Oct 30th 1994:
Wha-! Why I never-! At least sleep in separate beds!
HenchwomanVtuber (Ravenclaw) (LoveGooder) (Coven Member #2) (Shh, It's a Secret)
Replied On Oct 30th 1994:
Hmm… Nope~! I get cold at night and Atlas makes for a wonderful space heater. Plus Professor Septima sometimes joins us for double the body heat!
End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8
(Showing page 5 of 8)
Heather'sMinder (Gryffindor) (Brilliant But Scary)
Replied On Oct 30th 1994:
shrill* She joins you?!?!
HenchwomanVtuber (Ravenclaw) (LoveGooder) (Coven Member #2) (Shh, It's a Secret)
Replied On Oct 30th 1994:
Of course *matter-of-fact nod* She was there first.
Heather'sMinder (Gryffindor) (Brilliant But Scary)
Replied On Oct 30th 1994:
Oh, Lord. There's a hierarchy and Luna's above all of us on it.
TheYoungestRedhead (Gryffindor) (Weasley)
Replied On Oct 30th 1994:
Dibs.
Heather'sMinder (Gryffindor) (Brilliant But Scary)
Replied On Oct 30th 1994:
You can't call dibs, Ginny! Heather and I saw him first!
GreenEyedGirl (Gryffindor) (Seeker) (Girl-Who-Lived)
Replied On Oct 30th 1994:
Heather and Hermione wish to know your location* We just wanna talk, Gin.
PettyPansy (Slytherin) (Not Not Neutral)
Replied On Oct 31st 1994:
Okay, after dinner last night… Are we going to address the Veela in the room or not?
Heather'sMinder (Gryffindor) (Brilliant But Scary)
Replied On Oct 31st 1994:
I'd rather not. Who knew saving a Veela meant they bonded to you?
IceQueen (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Oct 31st 1994:
Most Witches and Wizards. And it would be more accurate to describe the phenomenon primarily as a debt of gratitude.
FabulouslyLavender (Original Poster) (Fabulous) (Gryffindor) (Queen Bee)
Replied On Oct 31st 1994:
Count down to the boys joining the thread to showcase their jealousy.
3
2
1
…
End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8
(Showing page 6 of 8)
VoidGinger (Jealous Git) (Gryffindor)
Replied On Oct 31st 1994:
It's bloody bullshite is what it is! Why does that prick get a Veela lusting after him and the rest of us are stuck all high and dry?!
FabulouslyLavender (Original Poster) (Fabulous) (Gryffindor) (Queen Bee)
Replied On Oct 31st 1994:
heavy sarcasm* How could that possibly have happened?
Heather'sMinder (Gryffindor) (Brilliant But Scary)
Replied On Oct 31st 1994:
Honestly, Ron, Heather and I were there. It was just as likely for Gabrielle to bond with us as it was for her to bond with Atlas… Er, Professor Atlas.
DrunkIrishman (Gryffindor) (Irish)
Replied On Oct 31st 1994:
Whoa! What a mental image! Almost makes this whole situation even!
HeirLongbottom (Gryffindor)
Replied On Oct 31st 1994:
Not cool, Seamus.
ChangSenpai (Ravenclaw) (Seeker)
Replied On Oct 31st 1994:
Did anyone hear how angry the older sister was? She was accusing him of some kind of messed up stuff.
HenchwomanVtuber (Ravenclaw) (LoveGooder) (Coven Member #2) (Shh, It's a Secret)
Replied On Oct 31st 1994:
She's just confused by her attraction to Atlas and wanting to protect Gabrielle. Their names are Gabrielle (younger) and Fleu (older) by the way. It's so exciting to have new friends for our Secret Totally-Not-Coven (tm)!
DrunkIrishman (Gryffindor) (Irish)
Replied On Oct 31st 1994:
Sisters!?! He scored sisters! Think he gives lessons on pulling birds?
HeirLongbottom (Gryffindor)
Replied On Oct 31st 1994:
Again, Seamus, not cool. They are women with their own thoughts, dreams, and fears. Not 'birds'. Perhaps you should think on your conduct. That goes for you as well, Ronald.
BoningBones (Hufflepuff)
Replied On Oct 31st 1994:
sigh*totally doesn't swoon*
Well said, Neville. I wish more Wizards were like you.
End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8
(Showing page 7 of 8)
PettyPansy (Slytherin) (Not Not Neutral)
Replied On Oct 31st 1994:
… I ship it.
IceQueen (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Oct 31st 1994:
They do work rather well together. I've always been partial to the opinion that Heir Longbottom would have done better in Hufflepuff.
BoningBones (Hufflepuff)
Replied On Oct 31st 1994:
Pansy… Daphne… Please don't.
HeirLongbottom (Gryffindor)
Replied On Oct 31st 1994:
Why do I feel like I'm missing something?
VoidGinger (Jealous Git) (Gryffindor)
Replied On Nov 1st 1994:
It's not bloody fair! None of this is! First the wanker gets a Veela broad and then he helps Heather cheat her way into the tournament! Bloody glory hounds and tossers the lot of 'em!
Heather'sMinder (Gryffindor) (Brilliant But Scary)
Replied On Nov 1st 1994:
Ronald Weasley! You should know better than most that Heather is being forced into this tournament as yet another attempt against her life! Atlas didn't have anything to do with it. He's just trying to keep her alive with training and preparation.
Don't make me owl your mother…
Shiva'sBride (Gryffindor) (Indian Goddess) (Love)
Replied On Nov 1st 1994:
And considering the number of girls that seem to be surrounding him, Professor Atlas is anything but a 'wanker' *smirk*
PettyPansy (Slytherin) (Not Not Neutral)
Replied On Nov 1st 1994:
I mean… The evidence doesn't look good for Potter. Like, how likely is it that she's really being targeted /again/?
Heather'sMinder (Gryffindor) (Brilliant But Scary)
Replied On Nov 1st 1994:
What evidence!? All you people have is bias and assumptions!
Very likely! Because that's what's happening! Like it has happened for the past three years!
BoningBones (Hufflepuff)
Replied On Nov 1st 1994:
But why did she have to do this when Hufflepuff finally gets the chance to step into the limelight with Cedric as Hogwarts champion?
End of Page. 1, 2, 3… 5, 6, 7
(Showing page 8 of 8)
IceQueen (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Nov 1st 1994:
I would like it noted that Astoria and I shall be rightfully abstaining from this argument. We are not dull enough to poke the Potter.
GreenEyedGirl (Gryffindor) (Seeker) (Girl-Who-Lived)
Replied On Nov 1st 1994:
I didn't do anything, Susan. I thought I made that very clear. I'm not a champion. I'm just a girl being forced to compete in this deathtrap against her will. Atlas is the only one (other than Hermione) who has volunteered to help me survive Tasks meant for NEWT-level students.
Cedric is still the Hogwarts champion. Anyone who says I'm trying to take that away from him is a bellend and a bastard. And if people want to believe that bellend (*cough* Ron *cough*), they're welcome to. Just don't come apologizing to me after the real culprit comes out.
IDon'tSparkle (Hogwarts Champion) (Hufflepuff)
Replied On Nov 1st 1994:
Good luck, Heather. And thanks for trying to clear things up…
End of Page. 1, 2, 3… 6, 7, 8
14: The Combat Grind
I stared into the darkness, seeing both the forest and the trees and all the dangers that lurked within. This was a terrible idea. Probably one of my worst. But it was something I felt I had to do. I knew I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn't.
This wasn't just for my safety. It was for Heather's safety. And Luna's. And Gabrielle's. And Septima's. And Hermione's. And even the rest of my students.
I wasn't strong enough. The Triwizard Tournament Quest made me painfully aware of that. At some point this year, Heather and I would be going up against Voldemort. And I was determined to make it so we'd be coming out on top.
My Disciplines were unbalanced at the moment. And now, I was preparing to do something to fix that issue. I couldn't let my Combat Skill wallow behind the rest of my Skills. It had served me well enough during the World Cup Riot, but I'd had surprise on my side then. That wasn't something I could count on. I needed more strength, more skill, and more power. I needed to Grind my numbers higher.
Combat was trained best in life-or-death situations. According to my System, at least. With that in mind, I'd come to the only place I had easy access to that would fit those requirements. I'd come out to the Forbidden Forest. At night. With nothing but myself, my wand, a small assortment of potions and antidotes, and no backup to speak of.
Well, that wasn't entirely true. In a pinch, I could call for Fawkes and pray he was willing to save a daft moron like me. I'd asked Dumbledore's permission to do that and he'd readily given it for emergency situations within the Castle where apparition was limited by the wards, showing an immense amount of trust in me to not abuse the privilege. I figured a good place to start paying back that debt of trust was by ensuring Heather had all the tools I could give her in order to survive.
Which circled back around to my frankly foolhardy idea to train my Combat Skills in the Forbidden Forest. Heather had Tier 5 for Combat and I only had Tier 2. I wanted to at least be useful to her in that field and that meant quickly raising my Combat Tier to be much closer to hers. I was under no illusion that a single night's Grind would solve everything there but it was the only place I could feasibly start.
I knew I was stalling at this point. There was nothing more I could do to prepare for tonight other than potentially telling Luna or Septima. But then they would have tried to join me (Luna at the very least) and I didn't want to get them involved with this when they were even less qualified for this than I was.
Nervously twirling my wand in my hand, I took my first steps into the Forbidden Forest. Almost instantly, the darkness of the Forest seemed to close in around me. It was like stepping into another dimension.
The serene silence of the Hogwarts grounds at night was replaced with a different sort of silence. A silence paradoxically filled with a cloak of noise. Leaves rustled in the wind. Unidentifiable animal sounds filled the night. The call of an owl. The scurrying of prey in the undergrowth. The yips of a pair of foxes on the hunt. The very Forest seemed to breathe around me, each gust of wind an inhale or exhale that shook the trees.
I followed a small trail until I couldn't anymore. Then I began to cut my way through the now-dense foliage with quick slashes of my wand. Bushes and shrubs fell away before my wand and I forged my way through the trees.
I was probably the noisiest thing in the Forest tonight. And with the rumors I'd heard of Trolls and Giants, that was saying something. I didn't know the first thing about true woodcraft and I was sure Hagrid would have called me a babe fumbling about in the dark. Still, I forged on as the sounds of mundane animals began to fade into obscurity.
I didn't come across many of the Forest's inhabitants. They could likely hear me coming from a mile away. But I knew I wasn't alone in these woods. Even an amateur like me could see the obvious tracks, hear the animalistic calls, and smell the scent of a creature's passing.
By the half-hour mark of my expedition into the Forbidden Forest, the worst thing I'd encountered was a small pack of Doxies. The Biting Fairies - no better than pests in most situations but known for their dangerously venomous bites - were easy enough to take care of with some simple Knockback Jinxes. They were small enough that they gave pretty good Accuracy and Attack XP though.
2 to Attack, 4 to Accuracy Attack 182=20/100, Accuracy 154=19/100
A little bit farther into the Forest, I came across a rocky cliff-like outcropping. I was already on high guard when I saw the cliff. The Forest around it was scattered with webs and what looked to be empty spider nests. The nests were big enough that they would've been more fit for large dogs though.
The rocky cliff was covered in webs woven thick enough that they looked like snow. A medium-sized cave entrance sat in the middle of the cliff, framed by even more spider-spun silk. A clearing led up to the cave, with shrunken cocoons scattered around it as if whatever they contained had already been drained and consumed.
"Not even for all the knowledge in the world," I deadpanned, staring pointedly at the ominous cave entrance.
Despite my words, I stepped into the clearing. I wasn't planning on going anywhere near that cave but spiders did seem like an easy and guilt-free source of XP. If only I could lure them out to me…
That train of thought didn't get very far. As I stepped into the middle of the clearing, the ground surrounding me burst upward. More than a dozen previously-burrowed spiders revealed themselves around the clearing, boxing me in and clattering their mandibles and legs together menacingly.
My estimate of their size was unfortunately quite accurate. The knees of their bent, scurrying legs came up to about my waist. Fearsome-looking little buggers, they were all chitin and thorns and the always-academic portion of my mind helpfully identified them as Thornbacks.
That helpful identification almost caused me to eat spider spit to the face. I barely ducked out of the way as three of the Thornbacks spat something at me with a spine-tingling hiss. Two of the projectiles looked like globs of something and the last was a densely-packed ball of web. As I dodged, the other spiders moved as well, some staying back with their spitting pals and the rest circling closer to prevent my escape.
"Dear Arthur… The spiders have a functional party comp," I whispered to myself in horrified awe.
And they did. The spiders that were coming into melee range were red and bulky as if built to be tanks. The ones that stayed back were slimmer, four of a poisonous-green color and the rest of an off-white. The green spiders were the ones that spat the globs of something at me, something that began to eat away at the ground where it landed.
The spiders had tanks, DPS, and with the off-white, web-shooting spiders, area control as well. I wasn't sure why that terrified me as much as it did. Maybe something about pack-hunting spiders the size of large dogs was a fear inherent to the Human condition. If it wasn't, it should have been…
Regardless, I channeled that primal terror into something productive. Namely, roasting Thornbacks on an open flame. A wordless Incendio sent a stream of fire rolling over the closest spiders. They skittered back in fear, one or two curling up into balls as they cooked on the spot.
Another silent spell raised a shield around me and I whirled into motion. Banishers and Blasting and Cutting Curses were spent freely from my wand. I found myself ducking and dodging as my shield shattered under a volley of acid, my heart racing on a razor's edge as the adrenaline of battle filled my veins.
As the fight went on, I found myself casting darker and darker spells. Curses and Hexes flowed from me like water as I seemed to naturally fall back on things I knew could end my enemies entirely. In my soul, darkness danced with glee, eagerly calling out to be used to smite those who stood before me.
Spider blood boiled. Their chitin cracked as a suitable replacement for bone. Some were even turned inside-out entirely. A darkness seemed to fall over the stony grove, darker than the night of the Forest. One by one, the Thornback spiders fell dead, never to scurry or hunt ever again.
Through it all, I kept my mind afloat through willpower and the knowledge of what I was fighting for… who I was fighting for. The darkness inside me would not rule my soul. It was a tool, a means to an end, just as the System and even magic as a whole were. I was the one who wielded it and I never let myself forget that.
When the last spider fell dead, I stood amidst all the bodies, barely even panting. My heart was certainly racing though and my soul called out, baying for more bloodshed. My mind reeled as I brought my heart rate back under control. It was almost scary how easy it was to fall into the flow of things and use everything I'd learned. I'd never shied away from the Dark Arts before but most of my knowledge in that area was academic. Now, I was putting it into practice and I was finding that I was good at it.
2 to Awareness, 2 to DADA, 3 to Defense, 3 to Agility, 5 to Focus, 5 to Tactics, 5 to Attack, 6 to Dueling, 6 to Evasion, 7 to Dark Arts Awareness 222=24/100, DADA 472=49/100, Defense 283=31/100, Agility 193=22/100, Focus 265=31/100, Tactics 205=25/100, Attack 205=25/100, Dueling 216=27/100, Evasion 166=22/100, Dark Arts 217=28/100
Your Combat Skill is Now Tier 3
Oh… that certainly helped the slight discomfort I was feeling with my dark nature. A rush of dopamine and satisfaction flooded me as my numbers went up dramatically. Life-or-death situations were really effective training for Combat Skills. And my Dark Nature Perk was already paying dividends.
The stream of quantified self-improvement just reaffirmed my desire for the Grind. With my motivation renewed, I set off in search of more fights to pick in the Forbidden Forest. I may have been a dark bastard at heart but I wouldn't let that stop me from Grinding. Heather would need every bit of help I could give her.
The next fight I found was with an odd-looking bear. I wasn't even aware that there were wild bears in the British Isles. It must have been some kind of magical breed, an idea given credence by the almost comical fangs it had in its mouth. It was as if this bear had been bitten by a vampire…
The worst part was I couldn't immediately eliminate that as a possibility. Still, the possibly vampiric bear fell just like the spiders when I let the darkness out to play. I even decided to get fancy with it, skewering the bear with a transfigured branch through its heart. Just to make sure it stayed down - if it really was vampiric - I hit its fallen form with a Lumos Solem, briefly illuminating the night with the light of day.
I didn't have many noteworthy encounters after that. At least, none that me and my inner darkness couldn't handily handle. But my night was anything but uneventful. I steadily carved my way through the population of the Forbidden Forest, leaving a trail of death and destruction in my wake as I delved deep into its shadowed depths.
Another odd vampire bear praised the sun at some point. I came face to face with a Troll and it came face to face with a banished boulder. I exterminated what must have been half a colony of Acromantula, their nests of webs going up in flames easily, though thankfully, that fire didn't spread to the rest of the Forest. I even made a sort of truce with a Cerberus of all things. What the infamous Three-Headed Dog of Hell was doing near Hogwarts, I hadn't the foggiest. I was just happy enough to leave it alone to its hippogriff dinner.
And all throughout the night, the XP kept pouring in. The Grind was going strong and I could physically feel the improvement in how smooth my casts felt, how I moved, how my spells and transfigurations tore through enemies, and how I began to dominate whatever battlefield I stepped onto.
But fatigue did build up and by dawn, I had to practically drag myself out of the Forbidden Forest. Tonight was my single most magic-intensive training session… ever. Nothing else compared to going full combat tilt in back-to-back life-or-death situations for nearly eight hours straight. Even my now quite high Body Stat was struggling to keep up.
I couldn't deny that the thrill of everything I'd done tonight still hadn't left me though. The darkness in my soul sang for all the blood I'd spilled, all the lives I'd taken, all the violence my wand had enacted. I… may need to look into a purging ritual of some kind…
Then there was a different sort of satisfaction within me alongside that dark thrill. The supreme satisfaction of the Grind. Nothing compared to having tangible evidence of the progress I'd made in a single night. The siren's call of the Dark Arts? It was pitiful in comparison.
1 to Transfiguration, 2 to DADA, 2 to Wanded Magic, 14 to Dark Arts Transfiguration 501=51/100, DADA 492=51/100, Wanded Magic 512=53/100, Dark Arts 2814=42/100
Your Magic Skill is Now Tier 5
5 to Tactics, 7 to Accuracy, 7 to Defense, 8 to Agility, 9 to Awareness, 9 to Evasion, 10 to Focus, 15 to Attack, 15 to Dueling
Tactics 255=30/100, Accuracy 197=26/100, Defense 317=38/100, Agility 228=30/100, Awareness 249=33/100, Evasion 229=31/100, Focus 3110=41/100, Attack 2812=40/100, Dueling 2912=42/100
Your Combat Skill is Now Tier 4
Oh yeah… That's that good shit. Even as I struggled to put one foot in front of the other, barely standing straight without help, I'd never felt more alive. If I was physically able, I would have gone right back out to the Forest for more indiscriminate murder. The path to Murder Hobo was a slippery slope but one I'd gladly throw myself down in pursuit of the Grind (ethically, I wasn't about to start murdering my students or anything).
I limped my way back up and through the Castle as dawn broke over the horizon. Thankfully, as Heather's self-proclaimed coach for the tournament, I had an easy excuse to skip my classes for the day. I just had to hope that Heather would be willing to put her training on hold until I got some sleep.
I had some ideas for that. We didn't have a clue what the first task of the tournament would be. But it seemed fair to assume that it would be a test of magical skill or power of some kind. Both things Heather was no slouch in but she was still out-matched.
The difference between a Fourth Year and a Sixth or Seventh Year was pretty significant. For one, Heather hadn't even taken her OWLs yet and wouldn't for another two years (end of Fifth Year). It was my job to make up that difference in any way I could.
There was the obvious stuff I could do to help Heather. Stuff like physical training, teaching her more advanced spells, and giving her an opponent to practice dueling against. But I also wanted to try some things that were a bit unusual. Perhaps a bit of Runecraft or Ritualcraft or even trying my hand at Potions again after so long.
And it couldn't hurt to teach Heather Occlumency for ease of studying and Apparition even though she wouldn't be able to get her license for a couple of years yet. I'd rather her know how to Apparate in an emergency than blindly follow some Ministry age restriction.
My mind was still brainstorming as I stumbled up to the door to my quarters. I barely managed to get it open before my body finally gave out on me. I collapsed, thankfully using my hold on the door to slow my descent. Almost instantly, I felt my mind begin to drift off to dreamland.
"Oh! Atlas! There you are! Don't you know how much you worried us?" I heard Luna's voice through the fuzz that was taking over the world outside my head. "Ah, he's been busy tonight… He must be exhausted. Let's get him to bed. Help me?"
It sounded like she was talking to someone. Maybe Septima was here? I had kind of disappeared without much notice tonight. She was probably worried about me. Or she'd been absorbed in some Arithmancy project or another and was only just now realizing I was even gone. You never knew with Septima.
I vaguely felt two pairs of hands take hold of me and struggle to get my limp body moving. I tried to help but I was finding it harder and harder to control my body as I quickly slipped into unconsciousness.
"Magical and physical exhaustion… Dark Arts saturation…? What did he do to himself…?" An unfamiliar voice asked. Even though I couldn't place who the voice belonged to, it was somehow… comforting… as was the embrace that accompanied it.
"It's Professor Gamer's superpower! The Grind!" Luna replied, carefree as she always was as if nothing the world could throw at her could dampen her spirits. "He just needs a bit of sleep. If you want, you can help me keep him warm and comfy!"
"Yes!" The unfamiliar voice agreed eagerly. Almost obsessively, in fact. "I mean… Are you sure? I-Is it even appropriate…?"
"Of course it is! You've got some much missed time to make up for!" Luna's voice was the last thing I heard before my world was fully claimed by sleep. What'd she mean by 'missed time'…?
IIIII
"Ready?" I asked, bringing my wand up as Heather did the same across from me. "Remember, don't worry about injuries. We'll deal with them afterward. Just show me what you can do."
Heather nodded firmly, her whole body tense as I signaled for Hermione to start the spar whenever she wanted to.
I woke up a bit after mid-afternoon with Luna wrapped around me - no doubt skipping classes in the process - and our new cat curled up by my head. The first thing I did after cleaning myself up was seek Heather out to start her training.
As if was Friday, I found her in Potions class and proceeded to steal her right out from under Snape's nose. Hermione tagged along as well, seemingly more than happy to break the rules for her best friend. Snape could only grunt impotently and let us go because there was apparently some rule that Triwizard champions could skip class so long as it was related to the tournament. It reminded me to go over the tournament's rules for other convenient clauses like that one.
With classes in session, it was surprisingly difficult to find a place to train. Our search was only resolved when Heather had the brilliant idea to ask a House Elf - she'd called him Dobby - for a suitable location. They did know the Castle better than anyone else after all.
That did mean I had to set the record straight for Hermione about House Elves though. That was more difficult than I thought it would be. Hell, I even agreed with her. Slavery as a concept was generally immoral and the way House Elves could be treated was simply inhumane on top of that.
Unfortunately, the Magical World didn't subscribe to the same morals or logic as the 20th century. As far as my knowledge of the subject showed, House Elves needed to be bonded to Wizards or Magical locations to live. Their slavery was a terrible, systemic side-effect of that.
Even when I explained that House Elves existed in a symbiotic relationship just as much as they did in slavery, Hermione's opinion wasn't completely swayed. I encouraged her to do her own research - even actually talk to some House Elves and get their opinion on the relationship -, and said I would be happy if she found something that could change my mind. For now, though, the House Elf issue took a back seat to making sure Heather survived this tournament.
Dobby led us to an empty corridor on the seventh floor of the Castle. To our confusion, he then paced back and forth in front of a tapestry of dancing Trolls three times and a door appeared on the opposite wall. He introduced it as the 'Come and Go Room' or the 'Room of Requirement', a room that could take whatever form its users desired. Truly, magic could do anything.
In the stately training room that the Room of Requirement had summoned for us at Dobby's behest, Heather and I faced off. I just wanted to get a better idea of her skills. I knew her magical power and reactions were great - as demonstrated by her Combat Tier of 5 and our little 'adventure' at the Cup Riot. But I wanted to get a better idea of her spell repertoire. What spells I could teach her, mostly, but also the theory behind dueling and Wizarding combat that I think she instinctively grasped but didn't truly understand.
The moment Hermione signaled the duel's start, I stepped to the side with a preemptive shield at the tip of my wand. Heather opened with a silent and powerful Disarming Charm to where I was just standing. She didn't predict my movement but wasn't content to let it be with just one spell. A Banisher and a Severing Charm quickly followed, Heather's wand motions blurring together in a short, rudimentary but instinctive spell chain.
The shield on the tip of my wand parried the Banisher, batting it away even as I ducked beneath the Severing Charm. Heather pressed forward, chucking another Banisher my way. I replied in turn, my Banisher colliding with hers and sending a small shockwave rolling over both of us.
A Jelly-Legs Jinx tried to get through my defenses, splashing harmlessly across my conjured shield. Heather didn't stop moving forward, closing the distance between us as if she was going to…
I found myself laughing even as I dove out of the way of Heather's fist. She really was a firecracker, one that had obviously been raised by Muggles. Still, a Knockback Jinx made her take a step back, creating more distance between us, and I transfigured the stone floor of the room beneath her into mud that Heather sank into up to her ankles.
"Blooming bastard!" Heather cursed. "These are my favorite shoes!"
"All is fair in love and war, my dear~" I teased back.
"I'll show ya love and war," Heather grumbled.
"Avifors! Avifors! Avifors!" Heather chanted, transfiguring a flock of doves from a bit of the mud that dove for my face.
"Heh, I see what you did there."
Doves as an attack? Love and war? Wicked sense of humor in that one.
Even as I chuckled, I sent a wide-area Freezing Charm at the doves and sent their frozen forms back at Heather. She'd just managed to free herself from the mud and squawked as she was pelted by her own spell. With that distraction, I was able to easily finish the duel with a simple Stunning Spell.
I processed how the spar went as I walked back over to Heather. She'd done well. But I was expecting that much. Her arsenal of spells could use some development. If she had access to some of the more advanced spells taught at Hogwarts, she probably wouldn't have relied on the Avifors transfiguration spell, instead using Avis to conjure the birds herself, for example.
I didn't mind her decision to try melee though. It was unexpected, perfectly fit Heather's character, and probably would have worked on the more traditional Wizards she'd eventually duel.
When I revived her, Heather tried to get a cheap shot in, lashing out with her foot to kick my shin. As naturally as I breathed, my wand swiped her leg out of the way. It was less a defined spell and more a work of directed intent and magic. She spun on her back until her head was pointed at me.
"None of that," I chided. "The spar is over. Now, we need to talk about how you did."
Heather crossed her arms and pouted directly up at me, "Fine… but you owe me a new pair of shoes."
A quick Scorgify had her sneakers looking squeaky clean and I asked, "Better?"
Heather sniffed as if she was unphased by my cleaning efforts, "No, I rather think you should still buy me something."
"How about a whole armored outfit and a new pair of boots?" I offered, figuring I could pacify her in a productive way.
"Really?" My offer made Heather perk up, forgetting about her once-dirty shoes and getting to her feet to look at me with starry, puppy-dog eyes.
I shrugged, "Why not? It'd play rather well with something else I have planned to help you with the tournament. The only issue I see is that it might be against the rules."
I could see Heather already beginning to design her new armor in her mind by the almost-dreamy look that came over her face. Hermione cleared her throat in the background, drawing my attention to her.
"Were you planning on sharing those plans for the tournament with us?" She asked pointedly.
"Yeah!" Hermione's question brought Heather's attention back to us. "You're supposed to be my coach or something and you haven't told us anything. What gives, Atlas?"
I hummed, "Hmm… Let me answer your question with another question. How do you feel about tattoos?"
"What does that have to do with any-…" Hermione was visibly confused by my seeming non sequitur until realization hit her. "No! Your Runic tattoo idea?!"
"Wicked…" Heather breathed, eying me with awe and a little bit of something that made me fear for whatever chastity I had left.
"It's brilliant!" Hermione exclaimed. "Even if armor is forbidden by the tournament's rules, they can't very well take away a tattoo!"
"Yup, my thinking exactly," I agreed, smiling at how quick on the uptake Hermione was. "Defensive Runes seem pretty obvious but I was thinking we could try out a few different sequences and see what else we can stuff into the tattoo. You never know when you may need to, say, shoot lightning from your fingertips…"
Heather was busy giggling - practically cackling - to herself, "Heheheh~ Petunia's gonna flip!"
Hermione, however, had already started brainstorming, "How would that work…? Well, Thurs obviously. But how would we get it - the lightning - to shoot out? Though a lightning cloak would be useful as well and for that, we just have to add together something like Thurs and Algiz… Gar maybe to mean spear or weapon…?"
"Don't forget we can use other Runic languages than just Norse, Germanic, and Anglo-Saxon," I reminded her.
Hermione lit up like a star, "Oh, yes! Hieroglyphics would change everything! But are you sure they'll work together?"
"That's just something we'll have to find out. I'm sure it's been done before. Perhaps the library has a book on combining different Runic languages?"
"What about Kanji?" Heather asked. Seeing our surprise, she shrugged. "Dudley used to be really into Dragon Ball. I may have caught a few episodes here and there on Saturday mornings."
"That's certainly something to look into as well," I considered. "Does that mean you want to go with the tattoo idea?"
"Hell yeah!" Heather agreed enthusiastically. "And we'll do ones for you and Hermione too!"
Hermione gasped, "Heather! My parents would kill me if I came home with a tattoo!"
"So?" Heather asked, seemingly not realizing the issue. "Don't tell them? It's not like you tell them about all of our adventures, right?"
"I do," Hermione said, looking like she was only a second away from rolling her eyes. "They know exactly how dangerous the magical world has been for me. The only reason they let me keep coming back to Hogwarts is because it's the law and because it's the safest possible option for us at the moment. They're scared half to death every September 1st."
Heather didn't seem quite sure how to respond to that, "Oh… I don't tell the Dursleys anything… Even Petunia and she actually somewhat cares about me."
"Oh, Heather," Hermione sighed. "You know my mom says she'd adopt you in a second, right?"
"It's not that bad. Vernon and Dudley have always acted like I don't exist and Petunia sometimes treats me like her own daughter… It could certainly be worse," Heather looked to the side sheepishly.
"It could also be better," Hermione firmly reminded. "Have you even told Headmaster Dumbledore about your home life like you said you would last year? He'd do something. Especially with Sir-… your Godfather available."
Heather and Hermione both shot glances at me. I was honestly starting to feel like I was intruding but I wanted to put in my two cents anyway, "He would. Dumbledore cares about you very much, Heather. I'm sure if he knew about your living conditions, he'd do something… anything to help. Even if he couldn't do it directly.
"I… could talk to him about it for you? Maybe even do something myself. I've already basically taken you as my ward for the duration of the tournament. Who's to say that arrangement can't continue after it ends?"
Heather glanced at Hermione before quickly changing the subject to something less personal, "I'll think about it… We've gotten side-tracked though. If I'm getting a tattoo, my best friend has to get one with me!"
"If it helps," I added, seeing Hermione's exasperated look return. "I could talk to your parents too. They might actually approve if they know it's something meant to keep you safe. I can imagine having a method of protection that can't be removed from you would go a long way to soothing some of their worries."
Hermione calmed dramatically as she considered my words. It was as if a constant, physical weight had been lifted off her shoulders by the idea of her parents not having to worry about her as much.
"Yes, I think that would help quite a bit," She said. "I could even show them our research and planning so they don't think I'm trying to fool them."
"I don't see why not. Notes on Runes aren't explicitly magic. Even if you showed someone outside your family, you could just say you're researching medieval languages," I confirmed.
"Hmm," Hermione thought about it, trying and failing to ignore Heather's pleading, puppy-dog eyes until she gave up and threw her hands into the air. "Fine! We'll get tattoos together! But I want to get my parents' permission first!"
"Yes!" Heather cheered, wrapping Hermione in a tight hug and bouncing them both in excitement.
A small smile crossed my face as I watched Heather celebrate her 'victory' and Hermione try to act cool through it all. It was good to see the tournament hadn't sent Heather spiraling into depression or hopelessness. I hadn't expected it to - Heather was too mentally strong for that, in my opinion - but I imagine it would have been a close thing if she had to do this without help.
Eventually, Heather calmed down and turned to me with an eager grin, "When and where can we start?"
"How about we send Hermione ahead to the Library to start researching Runes and Magical tattoos?" I suggested.
Heather cocked her head, "What will we be doing then?"
An almost sadistic smirk appeared on my face as the Room began to morph into a Muggle gym around us, "You and I have a date with physical conditioning to keep…"
"Ahh, shite…" Heather muttered under her breath. "As if Wood's Quidditch conditioning wasn't bad enough on its own…"
15: A Young Veela's Hentai Plot
"Don't make me get the chastity belt, Gabby! I will!" Fleur yelled through the door she had her back to.
The other French Veela in the Beauxbatons carriage gasped as Fleur evoked the worst threat one could make to a Veela. None of them moved to intervene though, content to watch the fireworks of family drama like the rest of their classmates.
On the other side, Gabrielle pounded on the door, futilely trying to push it open, "Let me out, Fleur! We are Bonded! We will not be kept apart by your protective prejudice!"
"Non!" Fleur shouted back. "I refuse. I will not lose you again, Gabby! Especially not to a damned Englishman!"
Fleur was getting desperate. Nothing worked. Nothing changed Gabrielle's mind on the subject of her so-called 'Bonded'. Fleur had to restrict Gabrielle to the carriage, physically restraining her most of the time to prevent her from running off and offering herself up to that… that swine!
Fleur would not be fooled by Atlas White's dashing good looks! Nor his respectable position as a Hogwarts Professor! Even the generally positive things she'd heard about him from his students and the rest of the staff would not sway her mind. They thought he was a hard-working and personable young man. Bah! They knew nothing!
Atlas White was the Devil himself! His sole purpose was leading young Veela astray! Even Fleur caught her mind drifting to his unreasonably handsome face during some of her late-night indulgence sessions. He raised blindingly-hot feelings in her breast, feelings of unrivaled passion and romantic conflict and lust that raged like an inferno. Just more evidence that the… the beast was meant to seduce and corrupt vulnerable Veela like Fleur and her innocent baby sister!
If even her body mistook hate for lust, what must poor Gabrielle be going through?! Fleur shuddered at the very thought. Fleur would not let Gabrielle give in to the Devil's temptation! She would even offer herself up in Gabrielle's place if necessary!
The pounding on the other side of the door went silent and Fleur slumped in relief, "Thank you for finally seeing reason, Gabby…"
On the other side, Gabrielle was feeling anything but reasonable. She was frustrated, almost to the point of fuming. Her sister's protective reaction had been cute and amusing at first. Now, it was just preventing Gabrielle from repaying her debt and Bond. It'd been days since she'd seen her Bondmate, for goodness' sake! She needed to get out of here, to see her Angel again…
"I shall be back soon with food," Fleur announced through the door. "Maybe you will feel a bit more sound of mind after eating with me."
"Will all of you watch her while I am gone?" Fleur asked the rest of the room.
This part of the carriage was limited to Veela only. As such, all of the Beauxbatons Veela had front-row seats to Fleur and Gabrielle's… disagreement. Sides had already been chosen as well and the vast majority agreed that Gabrielle was in the right and Fleur was in the wrong. The rest at least sympathized with Gabrielle's plight, understanding her actions with their shared Veela natures as reference.
Someone made a vague noise that might have sounded like agreement if you were half-deaf. Fleur wasn't but she took the noise as a sign of confirmation anyway. She was under the impression that the other Veela all agreed with her, unwilling to consider or even acknowledge that she was being irrational and that everyone could see it.
There was a moment of silence as Fleur nodded and left the room. Then, unopposed, one of the Veela moved to open the door to Gabrielle's room. Gabrielle blinked in surprise that an opportunity for her escape would present itself so soon.
"Go to him," The helpful Veela simply said.
Gabrielle blinked again before a wide smile grew across her face, "Merci. I shall not forget about this."
She began to run without waiting for a reply. The time for subtlety had passed and as she ran through the carriage, she passed the kitchen where Fleur had gone in a rush. Fleur peeked her head out to see what the commotion was and caught the briefest glimpse of white-blonde hair and the briefest whiff of familiar Allure. She ran back into the Veela quarters to see the door to Gabrielle's room wide open and the rest of the Veela sitting around as if nothing had happened.
"What did you do?!" Fleur asked frantically. "Gabrielle is-… ! I shall not forget about this!"
As she stormed out after Gabrielle, one of the Veela absently mused, "They are so similar sometimes. Odds on this backfiring stupendously for her?"
The rest of the quarters broke into giggles, "Sucker's bet."
Fleur raced out of the carriage, desperate to catch up with Gabrielle before she could do something they would both regret. If she failed… Fleur didn't even want to consider it. For Gabrielle to tie herself to that… that seductive m-monster! It was unthinkable!
Gabrielle was the perfect example of a young Veela maiden. She was beautiful, pure, and innocent. And this beastly Englishman wanted to take that away from her and Fleur! He wanted to hoard that beauty away from the world, all to himself.
There was no way the Gabrielle that Fleur knew would fall to Atlas' devilishly dark charms. He must have been manipulating her! He must have held some fiendish sway over Gabrielle! There was no other possibility in Fleur's biased mind. That Fleur might not have known her little sister as well as she thought she did never crossed her mind.
If she didn't catch up to Gabrielle, there was only one possible outcome to this situation. Fleur's dear baby sister would be taken and corrupted to a life of l-lewd passion and unimaginable p-pleasure. Fleur couldn't let that happen. Not when she hadn't even had the chance to fall in love yet! It wasn't fair! She was the older sister! She should go first!
Fleur's mind paused, stuttering on that thought. That wasn't quite right… was it? No, she was doing this to protect Gabrielle from the dark, sensual realities of the world! Yes! That Devil's manipulative, lustful mind control must extend farther than she thought!
Fleur shuddered as warmth passed through her body. S-Such power… He must be a formidable opponent. A formidable mate…
Still, Fleur ran, not letting herself be distracted by her traitorous thoughts. She tracked Gabrielle into the Castle by the Allure that was practically pouring off of her pure baby sister. Gabrielle must already have given into the beastly influence Atlas held over the minds of all Veela! It was the only thing that explained why she was leaking so much and Fleur had to save her!
If Fleur was confronted by the actual reality of her situation, she would have been mortified. Not just by how she'd based her entire opinion on a prejudiced misunderstanding but also by how far into denial she was of her own attraction. Fleur Delacour was currently the queen of denial, delusion, and seeing things that weren't there and as the other Beauxbatons Veela said, it was about to blow up in her face stupendously.
Fleur heard that Devil's voice - the one straight out of her nightmares and wet dreams - before she caught up to Gabrielle, "Gabrielle? Why are you running-… mmph! Mmmmm… Well, I guess this is as good a time to deal with our situation as any."
Rounding the corner, Fleur yelled, "Stop! Cease! Halt! Get your hands off of her, y-y-you fiend! Y-You villain!"
Atlas looked up at Fleur in surprise, still holding Gabrielle in his arms as she laid kiss after kiss upon his chin and neck, "I see you brought your sister with you. Great…"
"Unhand her, Beast!" Fleur repeated herself, not knowing what else to do at the moment. It was obvious to her that Atlas had already sunk his claws too deep into Gabby's mind. She was thoroughly enthralled by him.
"Maybe now we can have an actually productive conversation," Atlas mused.
"You'd like that, wouldn't you, Devil?!" Fleur shot back, scandalized. "That way you can work your silver-tongued magic and twist our minds and b-bodies to your will! I will not give you the pleasure! There will be no talking! I will give you one chance before I will be forced to resort to violence!"
"Finally," Atlas rolled his eyes. "I'll do anything to resolve this misunderstanding you seem to have of me. Seriously, I don't think I've ever met someone as stubborn as you, Fleur."
"D-Do not use my name so casually, Devil!" Fleur blushed furiously despite how much she tried to smother it.
"What am I supposed to call you then?" Atlas asked flatly.
"T-That's not important!" Fleur deflected. "What is important is my proposition for you!"
"Fleur… Sister… I love you but you are quickly becoming infuriating. Nothing you can do will keep me and my Bonded apart-…" Gabrielle tried to interrupt and head off Fleur's undoubtedly hare-brained scheme to save her.
Fleur had already worked up a full head of steam and wouldn't be deterred, "I-If you must slake your lusts and satisfy your dark base urges, y-you may take me instead! All I ask is that you leave Gabrielle out of this… She is yet young, innocent, and unprepared to satisfy a devilish English bastard like yourself. I-If you do… You will have all of me… I shall take Gabrielle's place in your manipulations of mine own free will…"
Atlas and Gabrielle looked between themselves and Fleur in stunned shock. Then Fleur's proposition truly set in and Gabrielle felt like screaming and facepalming at the same time. Of course, her stupidly protective sister would try to be noble and in the process, try to steal Gabrielle's Bonded away.
"Well…" Atlas said slowly, mostly addressing Gabrielle. "I did say I'd do anything…"
Gabrielle sighed, "And she will continue to stick her nose where it does not belong if we do not agree… I suppose I do not mind sharing with ma sœur…"
"Wait!" Fleur exclaimed, her accent coming out strong due to her flustered and traitorously excited state. "Zat was not ze deal!"
Gabrielle stalked toward her sister menacingly, "I am altering the deal. Pray I do not alter it any further…"
IIIII
"Oh~! Ooooh~! You brute~! You Devil~! You fiend~!" Fleur moaned, her hands threading through her own silky hair as if desperately trying to hold onto control of herself.
My tongue lashed her clit fiercely, drawing yet more melodic moans from Fleur's luscious lips. Her ass filled my palm as I held her upright atop my face. Her feminine juices sprung forth freely, pouring onto my lips and into my mouth like a biblical flood. She tasted of heat and passion, the flames of love and hate, and a hint of cinnamon that had no business being in a woman's natural flavor.
The air in my room began to heat up with Fleur's Allure and I was legitimately worried about my bedsheets catching fire for a moment. Then I decided that would be one hell of a way to go out and I put it out of my mind. My free hand roamed Fleur's front, gliding up her taut tummy and sinfully smooth skin to land on her perfectly perky peaks.
Her body instantly reacted by pushing her chest into my touch even as her mind protested, "N-Noooooo~! M-Mine heart~! D-Don't let him feel how fast it beats for him~!"
Gabrielle purred, pressing herself up against Fleur's back, "Magnifique, isn't he~? I knew he would be from the moment we first touched. Magic does not make poor choices, non? Don't resist, Fleur. Give yourself to him~"
"Non!" Fleur shook her head frantically as if she was trying to convince herself of her own vehement denial. "It is lies! Trickery! Yes, he cheats! He must be~! Nothing could possibly feel this good~"
For some reason, that accusation was the one that stung my pride the most. My grip on her ass and breast tightened, fingers sinking into Fleur's soft flesh. At the same time, my lips formed a seal around her love button and sucked hard, toying with the sensitive nub and rolling it lightly between them. Fleur's moan sounded more like a scream.
"Impossible! Impossible, impossible, impossible~!" Fleur repeated herself hoarse with her denial even as she came all over my face.
It wasn't enough. Even as she experienced the most intense orgasm of her life, my pride wasn't satisfied. I would ruin Fleur. I would see her tongue lolling out, her eyes rolling, and her whole body trembling with unbearable ecstasy. I would show her exactly how manipulative and devilish I could be. The darkness in my soul called for me to dominate this stubborn, troublesome Veela and I didn't deny the call.
Gabrielle must have felt something change in my aura because she instantly backed up and got out of the way. Fleur was too gone to notice. I stood, taking Fleur with me and thanking the Grind for my raised Body stat. Once I was standing, I bodily picked Fleur off my face and threw her onto the bed below us.
"Y-You utter brute! Beast! Barbarian! Uncultured British swine! H-H-How dare you do such a thing to a pure Veela maiden like moi?! H-Have you no shame?! Even if I have offered myself up to s-slake your l-lusts, y-you could at least be g-gentle!"
Fleur ranted as I loomed over her. Honestly, now that I knew she was all bark and no bite, her insults were kind of cute. Except when she accused me of cheating. A Gamer doesn't cheat. They may abuse their System as much as physically possible but they did not cheat.
"Be quiet," I ordered, making Fleur's mouth snap shut with surprising speed as her body seemed to instinctively obey me. "You're being rather rude. I think I should make it my job to show you some proper manners and make you apologize. Listen closely. I will not repeat myself and I am more than willing to discipline you."
Fleur let out a scandalized gasp, "You wouldn't dare! You will not lay a single a-aggressive finger on me, D-Devil! I-I-If you do, I-I… I shall not be held responsible for my reaction-… mmph!"
I leaned down and pinched Fleur's cheeks with a single hand, artificially pursing her lips and shutting her up at the same time. I spoke down to her as if she was an unruly child, disregarding any sense of pride she had, "Quiet."
I continued in a calm but firm voice, "Perhaps I was not clear. You will be learning some manners. And you will start to treat me with even a modicum of respect. You offered yourself up in place of your sister. I believe she can make her own decisions but I will still be taking advantage of your offer. You do not have to like it but your body is mine. That was the deal. And I will not have something that is mine be so rude as to accuse me of cheating."
"D-Do your worst…" Fleur tried to put on a strong face but I could feel how her Allure flared at my declaration of ownership, smell how thick the air was with her arousal, and see the wetness coating her inner thighs and forming a small wet spot on the bed beneath her.
I didn't reply verbally, just grinning down at her dangerously. She was quite literally asking for it now. The rest of my clothes came off quickly and I kneeled above Fleur with my hips spreading her legs wide open. She tried futilely to close them, only ending up wrapping them around my waist.
My hardness pressed against her, dwarfing her dripping sex and making her shiver. Fleur looked down at where we would soon be connected with awe and no small amount of fear. I stroked her curvy hips with my hand, helping her calm down slightly. It wouldn't do for her to be scared of our first time together.
"D-Do not bother t-teasing me. I shall never b-break!" Fleur stuttered, her hips bucking minutely into mine as I rubbed the base of my cock onto her most sensitive nerves.
"You will," I stated matter-of-factly.
Fleur actually moaned at that, "OOooooh~! I'm sorry Maman… Papa… This… This Devil will corrupt your poor, innocent Veela daughter~! How will I ever face them after knowing this disgrace~? Be still, mine heart~ T-This feeling… I am but putty before him~!"
I rolled my eyes. Just… the absolute biggest drama queen. I took myself into hand, using my other hand to lift Fleur's hips. Her body yielded to my direction and Fleur whined as it did. My tip teased her lower lips until it found the right place. I paused before pushing forward, looking down at Fleur to catch her staring up at me with wide eyes.
With a smirk and squeeze of her hip, I let myself push forward, pulling Fleur back onto me at the same time. Her mouth fell open into an 'O' as her lower lips began to be stretched in a similar state. Steadily, I slid inside of her, aided by how utterly soaked she was and how her body seemed to naturally accept my intrusion.
"I-I am split open~! Laid bare before a beast of Lust that demands all of me~" Fleur moaned, clenching tightly around me as her own words stoked her arousal. "B-But… f-for Gabby… I shall freely sacrifice myself to the beast~"
In the background, I heard Gabrielle deadpan, "Fleur, stop using me as a method of denial. Just be honest with yourself already."
"Never!" Fleur declared proudly even as her hands gripped the sheets below us tightly in pleasure. "I shall not give this lustful deviant the pleasure!"
Sighing, I leaned down over Fleur and covered her mouth with a hand as I pushed even deeper inside her, "You talk too much."
She continued trying to speak but just ended up babbling incoherently into my hand. With a long, rolling thrust of my hips, I seated myself fully inside her. Fleur's whole body quaked and her eyes fluttered back in her head.
We fit together perfectly. She stretched readily and eagerly to accept me into her depths. My cock throbbed inside her, the head gently kissing the entrance to her womb. Her inner walls gripped me like a sleeve of warm, writhing silk, pulsating in time with her racing heartbeat. It was as if she was born for this. As if her pussy was specifically designed to perfectly engulf my cock.
I felt Gabrielle mold herself to my back, kissing my neck and nipping at my shoulder as she whispered, "Go on, Mon Ange~ Show my dear sister what she's been missing~ What she's been denying and fighting so hard against~"
I grunted as I did just that. My hips drew back, withdrawing from Fleur's desperate depths. Fleur whimpered into my hand, her body thrashing as she tried to reclaim the feeling of fullness she'd momentarily lost. When only my tip remained inside her, I thrust back forward with speed, spearing Fleur's core and making her cry out in sensational pleasure.
Gabrielle clung to me from behind, laying worshipful hands on my torso and upper body as I fucked every sense of reason or thought out of her sister's mind. Even with only the first couple of thrusts, Fleur had become a mess.
Her hair splayed wild and free around her like a silken halo. Her body trembled and twitched, tensing with each thrust. Her chest quivered as she breathed, sucking in desperate breaths as if that would help dampen the overwhelming ecstasy she was feeling somehow. Her expression was one of unthinking lewdness, all thoughts driven out of her mind by my cock splitting her open to her core.
I pulled her onto me hard with each thrust of my hips. Her pussy squelched and sucked me in, swallowing everything I had to give her until her first orgasm hit her like a train. Even my hand couldn't muffle Fleur's scream as she came. Clamping down on me like a vise, I struggled to keep my cock moving in and out of Fleur.
Her first climax led directly into a second and then a third. She chained orgasms like spells, climbing higher and higher as peak after peak wracked her body and mind. Eventually, my hand had to leave her mouth and grab her ass just to maintain the leverage to keep fucking her!
Fleur's pussy sucked me in deep and didn't want to let go even as I pulled out. Her inner walls and lower lips hugged every inch of my shaft, milking tight pleasure from my nerves. Fleur's tongue lolled out of her now-uncovered mouth and her eyes crossed whorishly. The fucked-silly face she made was beautiful to look at. In another universe, it could have been a trend.
"Sho goooodsh~" Fleur slurred as her body twitched with a near-constant orgasm. "Nooooouuuuu~! Thish brutish can't break meeeee~! I musht stay shtrong~!"
I sighed and rolled my eyes. Even cumming her little Veela brains out, Fleur couldn't help but run her stupid French mouth, "Oh, do shut up, Fleur."
"Ywu dyareeeeiiii!?!" Fleur's indignation transitioned into a squeal, somehow still channeling her presumed pride into her slutty voice.
"I dare," I simply said.
"Nyyyyyaaaaauuuuuuuu~!" Fleur's response to my cheek was a long, keening whine as her pussy gushed around me, her body tried its best to accept everything I was, and her mind resisted my claim on her.
Despite her verbal protests, Fleur's body was seeking even more physical contact. Her hands reached up for me, seemingly without the permission of Fleur's conscious mind. They wrapped around me, trying to pull me closer than was physically possible. They found their way to my head, threading her fingers almost lovingly through my hair and cupping the back of my neck.
Fleur did her best to glare at me, "D-Don't you dare k-kiss me, Beast!"
Her actions said the exact opposite of her words, pulling my face closer to hers, "I-I'm w-warning you!"
When there was an inch between our lips, she stopped pulling me closer, unwilling to cross the last line herself. I stayed exactly where she'd stopped, staring down at her. Fleur's unconvincing glare began to waver.
"W-Well?!" She demanded.
"Well, what?" I asked innocently, still pistoning myself deep into Fleur's core.
"Aaahhh~!" Fleur moaned but her glare returned at full force. "D-Don't think y-you've won, Devil!"
"I have," I said smugly. "You just haven't accepted it yet."
"Gasp! Never-… mmmphmmmm~!" Fleur's scandalized gasp didn't get far as I cut her off by doing what she wanted but wouldn't admit.
I closed the rest of the distance between us and took hold of her lips with mine. Her body almost instantly melted into the kiss as whatever nonsense she was about to say was lost to her own passion. Hot and heavy, Fleur's kiss was filled with lust and 'hate'.
It was also what finally sent me over the edge. She put all of her emotions into our kiss, maybe unintentionally. Maybe it had something to do with her being Veela and her Allure because I could feel everything. I could feel her attraction and the vehement denial of it on her end. I could feel the hints of jealousy that her sister might have found someone before her. I could feel her overwhelming love for Gabrielle and the desire to protect her from the world. I could feel her 'hate', a muddled feeling mixed with misunderstandings, prejudice, and rebellious lust.
Fleur didn't love me. And that was okay. Actually, it was preferable. I would be more concerned if she did. But I don't think she actually hated me either. She was mistaking natural attraction and lust for something manipulative attributed to me and she was lashing out. Most of all, she was scared for her sister and herself, a fear bred from a lifetime of being the most desirable thing in any room.
She laid herself bare before me without even realizing or acknowledging what she was doing. She was so absorbed and swept along by the intimacy of our kiss and the ecstasy of our coupling that she didn't know she was giving me a small piece of herself. And I could no longer deny something myself. Beneath her prickly, protective, and proud exterior, Fleur was a beautiful woman.
I groaned into the kiss, trying to return Fleur's intensity. As I did, I spilled myself completely inside her. Throbbing pleasure filled our bodies, rushing from mine into hers. Pulse after pulse shot wave after wave of thick seed to coat Fleur's womb and inner walls.
While I only groaned, Fleur screamed. She clung to me tightly, every inch of her body trying its best to hug mine, from inside to outside. Even her Allure surrounded me, extending and deepening my climax somehow. Our joined peaks seemed to stretch on and on into eternity.
After several infinite seconds, I came back down to inhabit my body again. Fleur… didn't appear to be so lucky. She was practically insensate. She was a radiant mess.
Fleur babbled almost incoherently, "G-Gabby is s-safe… I-I won… T-The Devil… shall not claim moi today…"
"What a shame~" Gabrielle whispered in my ear, reminding me she was still there. "She still denies your magnificence, Mon Ange~ Even after you let her peek into Heaven itself~ I will not be so ungrateful~"
She pulled me back, drawing me out of Fleur as she did. Fleur whimpered at the loss of sensation but she was quickly pushed to the back of my mind. At some point while Fleur and I were fucking, Gabrielle had gotten naked. Now, I was presented with the second naked Veela I'd ever seen and Gabrielle was just as glorious as Fleur had been.
Skin so smooth it bordered on unnatural. Hair like the most exquisitely spun threads of white-gold. A body that could have fell gods and heroes alike. Perfectly plump lips pursed in an eager smirk. A face to surpass every work of art the world had to give. And beautiful eyes filled with devotion and lust, begging to be taken and shown pleasures her mind could barely imagine. Gabrielle Delacour could have conquered the world and yet, her focus was solely on me.
"You saved me, Mon Ange," Gabrielle purred, taking my cock - still slick with her sister's juices - into her oh-so-soft hands. "Both my life and my purity. A debt is due. And since you saved my purity, I can only repay that debt with something of the same value. Purity for purity, non~?"
I don't think I've ever nodded so fast to something in my life, "Oh, Merlin, yes! How am I even still hard?"
Gabrielle smirked at me, "Well, I must be able to repay my debt somehow. Magic and our Bond will eliminate the little distractions to that process~ Just as Fleur, I offer myself up to you, Mon Ange~ But unlike her, I do not deny my desires or how much of myself I am freely giving you~"
Her eyes lidded. A sultry purr escaped her throat. She closed the short distance between us. I didn't resist as Gabrielle molded her sinful body against my front, sandwiching my cock between her perfect stomach and my own. Her arms wrapped themselves around my neck and she pulled herself up to level with my lips.
With a small smile, her lips fell upon mine. Like with Fleur, Gabrielle's Allure wrapped around me, cloaking me with her emotions. Devotion, infatuation, and most of all, gratitude radiated from Gabrielle's being. There was none of the denial or confusion that Fleur's Allure had held. Gabrielle was completely sure of herself and her chosen course of action.
She dragged herself up my frame, mounting me even as I stayed standing. Her slender legs interlocked behind my back, holding herself steady and attaching her to me like a monkey. Almost instantly, the tip of my manhood aligned itself with her entrance.
Gabrielle pulled back to look me in the eye and with supreme control of her body, lowered herself onto my cock. I gasped as silken heat quickly swallowed me whole. Gabrielle wasted no time driving herself down to the base of my cock and grinding every inch of me inside her.
"Magnifique~" Gabrielle purred, rolling her hips against mine. "A perfect fit, non? Well? Will you claim me fully, Mon Ange~?"
My hands gravitated to her waist, taking hold and almost touching my fingers together due to how slim she was. I all but growled possessively, "It'd be my pleasure."
Gabrielle giggled, "Yes, I believe it would be~"
Before she could get in another quip, I lifted her off my dick and dropped her. Her head fell forward onto my shoulder. Her arms clutched me tightly. Her moans were musical, a symphony for my ears that I conducted with long strokes of my cock inside her.
Perfectly tight and slick walls squeezed me with every thrust as if Gabrielle was trying to milk me of my soul. Thankfully, she was only after a different part of my essence. Our skin slapped together on each downstroke. She practically bounced off of me due to how damn perky her ass was.
"Oh, merci, Mon Ange~!" Gabrielle cried out, stricken by climactic pleasure from my constant, steady pounding on her core. "For saving me! For accepting me! For letting me repay my debt and devote myself to you~! Merci~!"
Her words stoked the darkness in my heart. I'd dominated Fleur thoroughly but she was still in denial of the truth. And so, something inside me wasn't quite satisfied yet. In the heat of the moment, I wanted to bend someone to me, to make myself her whole world…
Gabrielle's offer of herself up, her 'debt', and our Bond had that part of me rejoicing and reveling. She eagerly took everything I could give her and asked for more. Fleur's pride had its place but so did Gabrielle's eager fervor. Together, they would be perfect. Fleur would offer a challenge and Gabrielle would offer a welcome reprieve from breaking her sister.
"Mine~…" I rasped darkly, my mind barely working through the haze of passion and lust that had overtaken me.
"Yours~! All yours, Mon Ange~!" Gabrielle mewled loudly. "I never felt more alive than when you saved me~ when I first laid eyes on you~! And… And yet… ! Your passion now puts that feeling to shame, Mon Ange~! I am yours until the ends of this world~!"
I slammed Gabrielle's back into the wall, pressing her up against the smooth stone and using the extra leverage to piston even deeper into her. My hips were practically a blur but I still felt every ounce of sensation as I buried myself to the hilt inside her over and over again.
Her lower lips tugged my cock back inside each time I exited her. They sealed around the ridge of my cockhead to ensure I didn't accidentally slip out. 'Some aspect of her Veela biology,' whatever remained of the logical, academic part of my brain absently noted. It wasn't important in the slightest right now though.
Gabrielle's pussy begged me to let myself release inside her and her upper lips weren't far behind, "Inside! Inside, please~! Fill me completely~! I cannot live a moment longer without your essence~! My womb, it aches for you, Mon Ange~! I need you, all of you~!"
I had no choice but to oblige. My eyes squeezed shut and ropes of cum exploded out of me. I anchored myself deep within Gabrielle and set about filling her as best I could. A flood of my essence shot into her core and she answered with a moan and a crotch-drenching squirt of femcum.
Her whole body shook, clinging to me as if I was her only lifeline, the only thing keeping her connected to Earth. Gabrielle's orgasm did its best to send her into metaphorical outer space despite that lifeline. Her Allure fluctuated, her muscles clenched, and she did her best to drain me of everything I was willing to give her. As we gradually came down from our spontaneous visit to Heaven, Gabrielle savored every pulse and twinge of pleasure. I was left bathed in the utter contentment she felt through her Allure and our shared afterglow.
Gabrielle sighed as I absently held her up against the wall, still buried deep inside her, "Incroyable, Mon Ange~ Fleur does not know what she's missing out on thanks to her own denial. What shall we do next~? My debt is not yet fully repaid~"
As she said that, her insides rippled around me, internal muscles running up and down my sheathed length. Before I could reply, though, System notifications momentarily stole my attention.
New Coven Member Initiated Coven Members (3): Septima Vector, Luna Lovegood, Gabrielle Delacour
1 to Influence, 2 to Seduction, 5 to Persuasion, 5 to Willpower, 10 to Luck
Influence 81=9/100, Seduction 442=46/100, Persuasion 175=22/100, Willpower 345=39/100, Luck 3510=45/100
I guess Fleur didn't count toward the coven. That made some sense. She still thought she hated me and that she'd 'only' done all of this to protect Gabrielle. But Gabrielle had definitely joined the coven. She didn't have the same hangups as her sister and there was no denying her enthusiasm.
Still, I had to ask, "What do you know about covens, Gabrielle?…"
16: Bookworm's First Power-Munchkin
Fleur huffed and stick her nose up at me as if that would hide the blush that began to spread across her cheeks when our eyes met. It wasn't that nothing had changed since our moment of shared intimacy, just that Fleur was still firmly in denial and trying desperately to act like it hadn't happened at all.
At least she'd started to let her sister out of the carriage. As evidenced by the fact that said sister was currently shooting me a sultry little grin from her spot beside Fleur. I returned the smile and my eyes continued to roam the Great Hall until they landed on the true source of my concern at the moment.
Heather and Hermione were eating alone at the end of the Gryffindor table. They'd been doing so basically every meal since Heather's name came out of the Goblet of Fire. I occasionally saw Ginny or Neville try to join them but those attempts were sparse and usually stymied by the rest of their House.
It seemed that Heather's little outburst at the Halloween Selection hadn't had the effect I'd intended. I wanted to make it clear to the rest of the school that Heather didn't want to be in the tournament. But people still thought she cheated her way into this thing and that her anger had merely been an act on her part. I should have directed Heather to make an oath or something.
That belief resulted in resentment directed at Heather, especially from Hufflepuff - the House of the tournament's Hogwarts champion. The rumors I'd heard about me personally tutoring her probably didn't help either. From what some of the female students said, you would've believed our coaching sessions were events rife with debauchery and taboo romance. They weren't… mostly…
Other than a brief announcement that he didn't believe Heather had been entered of her own free will, Dumbledore and the rest of the staff had taken a hands-off approach to Heather's situation. They didn't really have a choice otherwise. They could punish bullying if they saw it but they couldn't do anything about the systemic shunning from the rest of the school. And as always, politics stood in the way of Dumbledore taking any action that might actually change something.
Thankfully, Heather seemed mostly indifferent to the school's treatment of her. Even the 'Potter Stinks' badges that the young Malfoy had whipped up - which I had to admit were a cunning bit of charmwork - only got a brief chuckle and then indifference from Heather. There were still some who defended her, after all. They were just few and far between compared to the rest of the school.
Outside of the shunning, Heather's training was proceeding apace. Heather was the kind of student that learned best through action instead of reading/lecturing. Heather and I usually performed the new spells I was teaching them and then Hermione could explain the theory to Heather in a way she could understand afterward.
I already knew Heather was a quick hand with her wand but I quickly discovered that she was so much more than that. She had this intuitive understanding of magic that meant she was quickly able to perform spells she'd never heard of before. She could not only coast by on her instincts but excel off of them.
Those magical instincts did not extend to the theoretical side of magic. She was almost a savant in that regard. She could puzzle her way through how to cast a spell with ease but ask her to explain why that spell did what it did and she would be hopelessly out of her depth.
Hermione was Heather's opposite when it came to magic. She had a much, much easier time with theory but struggled when it came to putting that theory into practice. She made up for that deficiency with sheer grit, determination, and hard work. Even though she didn't know it, Hermione was already a student of the Grind.
If Heather was all raw instinct, Hermione was painstaking preparation. In that way and a few others, Hermione perfectly complimented Heather. We quickly put together a training regime that worked well for Heather with that bit of information.
That wasn't to say there weren't incidents though…
IIIII
"Keep up, old man!" Heather's laughter echoed through the mind-bending arena that Room of Requirement had created for our dueling purposes.
It was a course of mirrors that resembled one that you would find at a Muggle circus or fair. We'd gotten our serious training done for the day and I figured this would be a fun way to unwind. At the same time, it trained Awareness, Focus, and Tactics for both me and Heather.
1 to Focus, 2 to Tactics, and 2 to Awareness Focus 411=42/100, Tactics 302=32/100, Awareness 332=35/100
The Room could create anything we imagined. Mirrors formed false corridors and dead ends that reflected back on themselves. Space seemed to twist and turn, forming scenes straight out of a lucid dream or nightmare.
The name of the game within this kaleidoscopic wonderland was a twisted, magical version of Tag. I'd given Heather a bit of a headstart. My job was to catch her and hers was to evade capture by any means necessary. And there was a twist. See, mirrors - even mundane ones - reflected spells…
I ducked as a stunner bounced around an unseen corner off a transparent surface. One of the many spells I'd taught Heather during our three weeks of training together and one of her favorites by far. It was followed by more laughter from wherever Heather was hiding ahead of me.
"You'll have to do better than that~" Heather taunted. "The fact that you haven't caught me yet really 'reflects' poorly on your skills, Coach~"
The puns were worse than the taunting. According to Hermione, they were a recent development of Heather's personality. Something that only really showed up toward the end of last year and over the summer. She seemed to know more about the actual reason behind them but I didn't press.
An explosive charm hit a hastily-erected shield and exploded. That'd teach me to get distracted by puns. Thankfully, the mirrors the Room conjured were enchanted to prevent destruction. It would kind of defeat the purpose of the game if I could just blast my way through the mirrored maze.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement and fired. A Body-Bind Curse bounced off a mirror and continued to do so until it disappeared into the maze. Heather's fox-like grin stared back at me from the mirror I'd cursed.
"Need your eyes checked, Atlas?" Heather teased.
I scoffed, "Like you're one to talk."
"At least I'm not the one cursing mirrored ghosts~"
"No," I shot back. "You're just the one scared and hiding from her own reflection."
"Whatever do you mean?" Heather's tone was sweet and innocent. "I'm right here, aren't I?"
"Are you?" I genuinely didn't know anymore. This maze was messing with my head more than I thought it would.
Just to be sure, I sent a stunner at Heather's potentially mirrored form. It just bounced right back at me and forced me to duck again. Heather's voice was suddenly behind and above me.
"Like that one? I figured out how to throw my voice with magic!"
"This maze has multiple levels?!" I asked incredulously.
"So it seems," Heather giggled. "It's like a circus in here."
"How do I even get up there?"
"I don't know~ Maybe you should just give up and 'see yourself' out."
"When I catch you, I'm going to wash those damn puns out of your mouth," I grumbled.
"Eh, don't be so 'glass'-hearted. You'll 'look back' on this and laugh. Time tends to 'magnify' the humor of a situation. 'Prism'."
"That last one wasn't even a pun!" I shouted, giving chase as Heather's giggled head ducked back out of sight.
IIIII
"This is ridiculous!" I heard Hermione hiss from behind the partition the Room of Requirement had put up.
"Hey, you're the one that asked for this," I could almost hear the shrug in Heather's response.
"Not this! All I asked for was a comfy outfit to study and research in! This… ! This belongs in one of those Naughty Witch magazines Lavender and Parvati keep under their beds!"
I was trying my best to ignore their whispered conversation. Hermione was supposed to be changing and I wanted to give them at least a semblance of privacy. But all that was between us was a thin opaque changing screen and they weren't making it easy by not keeping their voices down.
Hell, I didn't even understand why Hermione felt the need to change clothes. We were just going to be putting the finishing touches on the Runic tattoos. It hardly needed to be an event.
"No, it's perfect!" Heather said. "It's just like in our 'research material'! He won't be able to keep his hands off of you!"
I… was going to pretend I didn't hear that. As much as I liked Hermione, this really wasn't the time for flirting. The Grind took precedent as always, second only to keeping Heather alive. Hopefully, we could finish the tattoos before Hermione decided to make her move. I had a feeling this research session wouldn't be as innocent and uneventful as I wanted it to be though…
There was a bit of shuffling behind the changing screen. Eventually, Heather stepped out with a wicked grin on her face and Hermione soon followed. I tried my best to not react. I really did. But Hermione's choice of outfit was too striking to not stare even a little bit.
Her robes had been discarded. That alone wasn't that unusual. Robes weren't the most comfortable clothing to be studying in. But the uniform she usually wore beneath her robes had been changed dramatically. It was still recognizable as a Hogwarts uniform but if Professor McGonagall saw it, she would have had an aneurysm.
The typical white top had been shortened and tightened and was tied off just above Hermione's navel, exposing some of her smooth tummy. Her skirt was now short enough to scandalize, showing hints of what lay beneath every time she moved. A pair of striped, thigh-high socks covered her legs, ending at mid-thigh and hugging Hermione's lush thighs. At least the coloring was still right. Red and gold for Gryffindor dominated her outfit's color palette, from her striped socks to her tie.
"D-Does it look okay?" Hermione asked nervously. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Heather giving her an eager thumbs-up.
I swallowed. When had my mouth gotten so dry? "Uh, yeah. You look great. Must be, uh, comfy?"
Her face flushed, "Surprisingly so…"
"Good…" I trailed off, unsure of what to say and still subtlely admiring Hermione's skimpily clad, bottom-heavy figure. "We should get started. I want to finish this up today so we can apply the tattoos tomorrow. We'll only have a few days before the First Task to get used to using them."
The change of subject seemed to bring Hermione back into her element somewhat, "Right. I've finished the Rune matrixes for the tattoos but I want both you and Heather to go over my work again. After that, we just have to figure out how to actually apply the tattoos."
"I took care of that," I said. "I found a spell that tattoos from the caster's imagination. That way we won't be stuck with bad-looking tattoos. So long as we have a clear image of the design in our mind, the magic will do all of the work."
"Oh?" Hermione perked up with interest. "How does it work?"
I smiled, always happy to see that Hermione's passion for magic rivaled my own, "It's actually a spell meant for transcribing text. There were other artistic spells but I thought this one would be extra effective since we have to work Runes into our design. I made a few minor modifications and it should fit our purposes now."
"Yeah, yeah," Heather interrupted before I could get carried away with the minutia of the spell I'd found. "Let's get to the good stuff already! C'mon, Hermione, break out the matrixes!"
Hermione rolled her eyes fondly but did as her best friend asked. She produced a piece of parchment and laid it on a table that we all gathered around. The surface of the parchment was a study of Runes in densely packed ink. It wouldn't have looked out of place for an OWL, Hell, a NEWTs student!
"This is good work, Hermione," I praised as my eyes roamed the parchment-ed Rune matrix she'd developed.
"Thank you, Atlas," Hermione's smile lit up the room as she practically lived off the praise.
Surprisingly, Heather was the first of us to catch a mistake, "That one there… It doesn't feel right."
"What do you mean?" Hermione asked for clarification. "See, it fits here as 'Luck of the Sun'. I thought invoking the Sun would add more potency to the Luck Rune."
"You're right but not completely," I corrected. "Heather's onto something. You used Dagaz for Sun but you want the Sowulo Rune. That way you invoke the actual concept and power of the Sun instead of just the 'light' of Day with Dagaz."
"Oh…" Hermione blushed. "Oh, I see… Any other mistakes?"
"Walk us through your work and we'll see. Hearing it directly from your mouth will give us a better idea of what you're trying to do," I suggested.
"Of course!" Hermione excitedly began to ramble about her work. "First of all, I layered the whole matrix with a number of protection Runes. Algiz for literal protection and defense. Eihwaz for the strength and stability of the matrix's protection. Ehwaz for various environmental protections. Etc.
"I used Eldar Futhark for these Runes because of the simplicity the language offers. I found that Hieroglyphics and Kanji are more varied languages - able to invoke a wider variety of effects - but Eldar Futhark is the most robust. For that reason and because it's the language I'm most familiar with, I ended up only using it for the matrix. Everything else is built on top of the protection Runes."
"A sound decision," I nodded. "When in doubt, go with what you know. And since defense is the matrix's primary purpose, going with something safe and sturdy makes perfect sense to me."
Beaming a smile at me and shifting slightly in her seat with a steadily reddening face, Hermione continued, "Y-Yes, thank you… After the protection Runes, I figured I would try to create something that brings good fortune or at least keeps the bad away. As you saw, though, that was one of the aspects of the matrix I was the least confident with. There are simply too many variables to ensure it works perfectly."
Heather snorted, "If it works at all, it'll be a Merlin godsend. You already know my luck, Hermione. Anything would be an improvement."
"Honestly, Heather, it's not that bad," Hermione said, rolling her eyes lightly at her best friend.
Heather just shot her a flat stare and Hermione quailed as if her mind was bringing up every incident of Heather's bad luck she personally witnessed. "Ah… uh, well, hopefully, it'll work."
Chuckling slightly, I motioned for her to continue and Hermione did, "Then we come to the Runes that power the whole matrix. At first, I was just going to power it off of our magical cores. But then, I thought better of it and included some backups. Look! I'm actually quite proud of my solution there!"
"Uruz for Power and… Jera? For Harvest?" I mused, turning the string of Runes over in my mind. "Oh my… Yes, that's quite clever. It should 'Harvest' magic from the surroundings. Typically, sequences like this one use Nauthiz for Need. But that only collects as much magic as the sequence uses. With Jera, you could potentially use the 'Harvest' to refill your magical core as well as power the Rune matrix."
Hermione was practically vibrating in her seat now and I could have sworn I heard tiny, whimpering moans leak out from between her lips, "Ah~… Y-Yes! Precisely!"
She took a moment to seemingly calm her praise-induced excitement, "… A-Anyway! Now, we get to the fun stuff!"
"Oh, joy," Heather deadpanned, not bothering to hide her grin at the same time.
"Hush, you," Hermione shot back. "Do you want to be able to shoot lightning out of your fingers or not?"
Heather mimed zipping her lips shut with a grin and Hermione elaborated, "That one was actually Atlas' idea. It took a bit of doing but I think I got it to work. It should allow us to generate lightning bolts as attacks. I even implemented a strange sort of shield/cloak with electricity. That one's obviously useless for physical attacks but I have a hunch it might disrupt magic in some way, given how magic and electricity don't typically play well together."
"Does the shield generate electromagnetic fields?" I asked.
"What?"
"You know, magnets and stuff?" I said. "It would make the lightning shield able to affect things with mass, so long as they're magnetic. If configured strongly enough, I could see repelling magnetic force being better than a physical shield."
"I… didn't think of that," Hermione ducked her head in shame.
I shrugged, "No matter. It can be a project for the future. We don't have the time to focus on it right now."
"Yes… for the future," Hermione shook her head, tucking that information away for later. "Other than the lightning effects, I included Runes for agility and strength and even managed temporary flight by aping the Runes placed on broomsticks. I couldn't get other Runic languages to work together. There's too much history and unique symbolism there for it to be feasible. "
"Wonderful work, Hermione," I said, clapping my hands together proudly. "You've truly outdone yourself, surpassing even my already high expectations."
There was no mistaking Hermione's reaction for a trick of the mind this time. She outright moaned, her eyelids fluttering and her whole body trembling for a moment. A suspicious scent crept into my nose as well.
"T-Thank… ~Oh~… you, Professor~" Hermione panted.
Yeah… Best to just pretend that didn't happen. That I didn't just give Hermione an orgasm through praise alone… It was definitely something to keep in mind for the future though. The possibilities… Brightest Witch of Her Generation, more like Lewdest Witch.
"Now, uh," I cleared my throat, just now realizing I was in grave danger of tenting my pants. "Now we just need to choose our preferred tattoo designs."
IIIII
"And why did you two have to be half-naked for this?" I asked.
"'Cause I want my tattoo on my back and Hermione wants hers on her outer thigh," Heather answered as if nothing was wrong with this situation.
"Okay. Better question. Why do I have to be half-naked for this as well?"
Heather giggled and Hermione just goggled at my exposed chest with flushed cheeks, "Because we've decided to do your tattoo on your chest and you've been out-voted. Also, a bit of eye candy is always appreciated."
I sighed. Nothing to do but accept this. It wasn't like this was a real difficulty. No, if anything, I felt extraordinarily lucky. I got to witness a topless Heather Potter using her hands as a bra for her remarkably full breasts and a bottomless Hermione Granger, clad in only a small thong, covering the front of her crotch sheepishly.
"Fine… Who's first?"
"Oh! Me!" Heather went to raise her hand before quickly remembering that both of them were currently occupied. "Ehehe, oops."
I closed my eyes and counted to five, trying to smother my semi-erection before it could get even harder, "Just hurry up and get on the table. Please. Face down."
"You got it, Coach!" I heard Heather agree and then some movement as she did as I said.
I only opened my eyes when I was sure Heather was lying face down on the massage table the Room of Requirement had provided for our tattooing purposes. Hermione had taken a seat on one side of the table, unfortunately hiding her wonderfully bare thickness from view. Heather lay across the massage table, her proportionally large boobs filling convenient dips in the table to ensure her comfort. She turned her face to me and wiggled her eyebrows suggestively when she caught me staring.
I took a seat opposite Hermione on Heather's other side, "Right, everyone ready? This shouldn't hurt but tell me if something feels off, okay? Hermione? Pay close attention here. I'll do the tattoos for you and Heather and then you two will work together to do mine."
"Yes, Professor," Hermione nodded.
"You sure you remember the design, Coach?" Heather asked, biting her lip with uncharacteristic nerves.
"I'm sure," I reassured her. "I've still got the reference attempt you did. I won't give you a bad tattoo. I'll do your father's memory justice. I promise."
Heather took a slightly shaky breath, "Well, then what are we waiting for? Let's get crackin'!"
I chuckled, "I'll take that as permission to touch you."
"Yeah, yeah, you've got it. Get on with this already."
Despite Heather's dismissive attitude, she still jumped slightly when my fingers grazed her back. Then she bit down on a loud moan as I produced my wand and started the tattooing process.
I instantly stopped and asked, "What's wrong? Did that hurt?"
Heather's denial came a bit too quickly, "Nothing! It's nothing! I definitely can't feel your magic tickling my core and making me wet or anything!!"
"Oh… kay… If you say so. I'm about to start again," I warned her.
As I started again, in earnest this time, Heather's reaction was much more muted. Or maybe 'tightly controlled' would be a better descriptor. Her muscles were tense and her breathing was shallow. Little whines, giggles, and other distracting noises escaped her occasionally as I worked. Thankfully, the tattooing spell wasn't as involved as the Muggle tattooing process and I didn't need Heather to cooperate all too much.
My wand traced along the skin of her back, directed by my hands. Ink steadily appeared everywhere my wand went, setting into Heather's skin permanently. My free hand smoothed the ink after it settled in a completely unnecessary motion. The featherlight touch of my hand on her sensitive back did seem to bring out certain reactions from Heather though.
A Cervidae (deer) face came into being, centered on the small of Heather's back. A noble stag, a memory, was given life once more on Heather's skin. The stag's antlers stretched up Heather's shoulder blades. And in every little line of the design, the tattooing spell filled in minuscule, almost-invisible Runes. A Rune matrix of Hermione's creation took shape within Heather's tattoo.
When it was done, I couldn't resist running my fingers along each line I just tattooed. If it was a Muggle tattoo, I wouldn't have dared do something so thoughtless. Thankfully, Heather's new magical tattoo was completely healed. Her skin hadn't even been broken once.
"How is it?" Heather nervously asked Hermione.
"Amazing…" Hermione whispered in awe, her fingers joining mine on Heather's back.
Heather tried and failed to hide a shudder of sensation, "Wicked… Your turn!"
"Wha-! Ah! Heather!" Hermione barely had time to react.
Heather sprung off the massage table and collected her best friend into her arms. I caught the briefest glimpse of feminine perfection before Heather's chest was unfortunately hidden by her wrestling with Hermione. Hermione was deposited onto the massage table, laying on her side with that magnificent ass pointed my way. I didn't see what must have been a vicious glare from Hermione but I saw the way Heather wiggled her eyebrows and grinned in response.
To head off any arguments, I did something bold and laid a warm hand on Hermione's exposed hip. She squeaked and startled, seemingly just realizing how much of her I could see. She looked at me over her shoulder like a deer in headlights.
I just smiled calmly, "Ready?"
"Meep!…" Red-faced, Hermione cleared her throat. "A-Ahem… Yes, I'm ready for you to begin, Professor Atlas."
"Alright," I continued smiling to soothe Hermione's anxiety. "The book-birds scene, right?"
Hermione nodded, swallowing her words. I directed her to lie back. Her arm came up to cover her eyes and try to hide her blush. My attention turned downward, settling on the wide expanse of flesh that would be my canvas.
The skin of Hermione's leg was unblemished and perfect. She was certainly gifted down here as well. Wide hips, thick thighs, and bountiful cheeks gave me plenty to work with. My hand absently stroked her leg and up her hip, feeling the way it gave and yielded to my touch perfectly. Hermione made a little noise into her arm and I realized I was getting distracted.
My wand came up to hover over Hermione's skin and I repeated the incantation for the tattoo spell. The process began again and like Heather, Hermione almost instantly moaned. I did my best to ignore it and the way I was touching very close to Hermione's most sensitive areas.
I maneuvered her leg as I worked and soon enough, another tattoo began to take shape. As expected from Hermione, the base of her tattoo was a book. It lay open on the side of her hip. Beneath it, the book morphed into birds that flew down her thigh a little ways.
Once it was done, I gave Hermione a little swat on the rear and got her to move. She gasped and rubbed her thighs together, refusing to meet my eyes as she vacated the table. Then it was my turn. The design I'd gone with was of Shadow if she was a creature of shadow (she basically was). The girls decided it would go best over my heart.
They began, treating me to the same unnecessary touches I gave them. The feeling of their magic on my skin made me feel tingly all over and sent blood rushing downstairs. Heather even decided to straddle one of my arms to get better access to my chest. In doing so, she forgot about the arm covering her chest. Hermione, never one to be left out, followed her example.
By the time my tattoo was finished, I was in almost desperate need of release. I swallowed that desire as best I could but didn't bother to cover myself. The sight of me with a blatant bulge reminded Heather of her own naked state and she quickly covered up. I didn't mind. The sight of her chest had already been burned into my mind.
3 to Runes Runes 453=48/100
New Item: Runic Tattoo
A Tattoo-Based Rune Matrix That Grants Protection and Special Abilities to the User, 5 to Agility, 10 to Melee, and 10 to Wandless Magic
"Alright," I said. "Now, we just need to learn how to use these things. We've got two days. Let's get training, girls."
Heather gave me a wicked grin as lightning crackled between her fingers, "Way ahead of you…"
17: First Task
"You'll do fine," I reassured. "Go out there and wow them for us, yeah, Heather? Show them how brilliant your best friend and teacher are and how wicked you can really be. We'll be watching and supporting you the whole way."
Hermione hugged Heather tightly, "Good luck."
"With the Dragon I pulled, I'll need it," Heather grumbled then grinned. "Good thing I have your tattoo to keep the Potter luck to a minimum."
Hermione wrung her hands in worry, "Oh, I just hope it works. I-I… What if it doesn't and I let you down? W-What if you get hurt? Oh, it'd be horrible. Are you sure you have to go out there?"
"She does, Hermione," I cut in. "We went over the tournament's rules together. So long as Heather's bound to the Goblet, she has to at least show up to the tasks. She doesn't have to win or even do well though. So, Heather? Focus on staying alive."
Heather snorted, "I'll do more than that. Watch me ace this thing without even drawing my wand!"
"Still," Hermione huffed, crossing her arms. "Nesting Dragons? Honestly, are the tournament's organizers insane or just daft?!"
"Yes," I deadpanned. "Yes to both."
One of those daft morons we were talking about - Crouch if I remembered correctly - growled in the background, "Watch yourself, White! You're not even supposed to be here. Get outta here so we can start."
Of course, I pretended to not hear him, "Did you girls hear something? A stuck-up, old gust of wind that hasn't even read the rules for his own tournament perhaps?"
It made Heather crack a smile despite the nerves she must have been feeling so it was a win in my book. Pissing off a Pure-Blood who was all pig-headed bluster and self-importance was just icing on the cake. The other champions were in a similar state to Heather and I felt a little bad that they didn't have someone to comfort them. Well, Cedric and Fleur mostly. Victor Krum was as stone-faced as I'd ever seen someone.
Dumbledore and the other school heads had been here for the drawing of the Dragons but excused themselves to act as the judges for the Task. Whoever thought of making them the tournament's 'impartial' judges was a disconnected fool if they thought the champions' headmasters were without bias. Though, maybe that was the point.
I wouldn't put it past this feckless tournament. Even if there had been something in the rules about this, I wasn't going to leave Heather alone to stew in her completely justified anxiety before facing a blasted Dragon. We may have known about the Dragons beforehand thanks to a certain loose-lipped Giant - as did the other champions through ways I could only suspect. But we hadn't had any time to prepare anything to specifically deal with them. In the end, the plan was still for Heather to wing this off the back of the research we'd developed and training we'd already done.
The first champion was called up to the Task soon enough. I gave Cedric Diggory - the real Hogwarts champion - a nod and wished him good luck. Good kid, that one. Let's hope he didn't go ahead and commit suicide by Dragon.
Cheers echoed from the Task's arena into the tent, doing nothing to soothe anyone's nerves. Fleur looked to have it the worst though. Krum was seemingly unflappable and Heather had me and Hermione to keep her worries from running wild. And I wasn't so completely competitive that I wouldn't comfort Fleur, especially after the moment of intimacy we'd shared together.
I got the French champion's attention, "Fleur?"
"What do you want, Devil?" Fleur turned a sneer up at me.
I could tell her heart wasn't in it at the moment so I pressed on, "I just wanted to wish you good luck. From everything I've seen, you're a smart and powerful Witch. I'm sure you'll do great. Just… remember that your life isn't worth some brief stint of wealth and glory, yeah?"
Fleur softened as she deemed my words genuine and she seemed to regain some of the spirit she always directed at me, "Merci… Take heart, Devil! I shall not leave my dear Gabby alone to your twisted debauchery."
I sighed, "I guess that's as good a motivation as I could ask for."
Fleur huffed, "Hmph. Indeed. Now, begone, Fiend. I wish to concentrate and I cannot with your devilish visage clouding my mind."
"Yeah, yeah," I rolled my eyes. "Good luck again, Fleur. You've got this."
"What was that about?" Hermione asked with narrowed eyes as I returned to her and Heather. Fleur looked visibly less tense after our short conversation.
"Just wishing the competition good luck," I said.
"You didn't do that with Krum," Hermione pressed.
I shrugged, "I don't know him. Fleur and I at least have something that vaguely resembles a relationship because of her sister."
"Hmmm…" Hermione just hummed, her brilliant mind suddenly seeming occupied with something.
I left her to her thoughts and began to give Heather a last-minute rundown of what not to do around nesting Dragons according to Newt Scamander's fantastic 'Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them'. Ironically enough, trying to steal their eggs was the first thing on that list.
Cedric returned to the tent, clutching the golden egg that was the Task's target and covered in soot and burns. He quickly collapsed under the care of Madame Pomfrey. Fleur was called out and her departure was met with similar cheers as Cedric's. She eventually returned with her head held high and part of her uniform burned off. For some reason, the idea that others had seen her in such a compromised state set my blood pumping with possessive fervor and I conjured something to cover her modesty.
Fleur acted haughty and unfazed as if she didn't even notice my assistance. That illusion was broken by the way she clutched the cloak I'd conjured close to her frame. Krum was called out and once again the cheers echoed through the fabric walls of the tent. When he returned, it was finally time for Heather to show the Wizarding World that even though she didn't want to be in this tournament, she wouldn't just roll over and take the shite thrown her way…
IIIII
"What… an… event, people!" Ludo Bagman shouted into his mic, hoping to hype up the crowd even more and already envisioning the profits from his semi-legal tournament betting scheme.
"A truly thrilling spectacle!" He continued. "Three champions down, each more daring than the last! The Hogwarts champion Cedric Diggory retrieved his prize with a masterful display of transfiguration and a bit of poor luck. The Beauxbatons champion Fleur Delacour did so with her bewitching Veela charm and was even nice enough to give the audience a stunning show of beauty in the process. And the Durmstrang champion Victor Krum has just finished conquering his foe with fearsome strength and ability!
"All that remains is the tournament's wildcard champion! The one who shouldn't even be able to compete! Give it up for the one, the only, Heather Potter! The Girl-Who-Lived! And she faces off against the First Task's most daunting opponent, a genuine, bonafide Hungarian Horntail!" If Bagman butchered the pronunciation of 'bonafide' (he did), only a third of the audience was aware enough of it to cringe.
"Here she comes, folks! The savior of the Wizarding World, coming up to look death in the face once again! Will she live up to her moniker? Or will the Triwizard Tournament claim its first victim since 1792?!"
Heather stepped into the arena, looking impassively up at her cheering audience. None of them mattered in her mind. Sheep and fools, the lot of them. But if they wanted to be entertained, Heather would show them entertainment…
The cheers slowly died into confusion as she waited and waited, not moving a muscle toward the Dragon that was tensely guarding its nest and shooting her suspicious, threatening glances. She was waiting for Atlas and Hermione to take their seats. They'd left the tent at the same time as Heather and she wanted to make sure they got a good view of what she was about to do. The rest of the audience could wait or simply leave for all she cared.
Soon enough, she saw them get into position in the crowd. They sat next to Luna Lovegood and the Weasley twins, though strangely, the twins and Luna had a pair of magical microphones in front of them and seemed to be doing their own version of commentary for the First Task. Still, Heather gave them all an eager, mischievous grin.
She took a step forward and the Hungarian Horntail on the other side of the arena roared. Echoing off every available surface, the roar shook the very air in people's lungs. The crowd was suddenly silent, only now realizing the monumental task put before the Girl-Who-Lived. Compared to the other three Dragons before it, the Horntail was akin to an Unforgivable over a simple Blasting Curse. It was primed to kill and die to defend its nest. And yet, faced with the most dangerous breed of Dragon in its most dangerous state of mind, Heather was undeterred, completely confident in the people she had on her side and the advantage she, Atlas, and Hermione had developed together.
"M-My word," Bagman stuttered, forgetting his showmanship for a brief moment even though he was completely safe from the Dragon.
He quickly regained his grove, "W-What an awesome beast! Let's give a round of applause for Heather Potter's Gryffindor courage!"
Heather scoffed internally as she continued putting one foot in front of the other. 'Yeah, make the rest of the school resent me more, why don'tcha? Not like this takes just as much Hufflepuff trust and teamwork, Ravenclaw smarts, and Slytherin preparation or anything.' She stopped in the center of the arena and slowly directed her magic into the wicked Runic tattoo on her back…
"She's collecting herself, folks, let's see what she'll-…" Bagman commentated, "By Merlin's wrinkled staff! My eyes! What was that?! An overpowered Lumos Charm?!"
It was not. But it was meant to blind so in that regard, it served its purpose. Lighting sprung between Heather's fingers, gathered and powered by the Runes printed on her skin. In an instant, it arced upward, connecting Heather to the heavens for the briefest of moments. Brilliant white light filled the arena, temporarily blinding everyone in the stands. A crack that sounded like gods clapping echoed out into the Scottish Highlands.
As quickly as it came, the light was gone. With it, Heather had disappeared from her spot on the arena floor. Wizards and Dragon alike blinked spots out of their eyes. When it could see again, the Dragon instantly began scanning for its foe. Heather was nowhere to be found.
"Where has she gone?!" Bagman exclaimed. "Has she cut and run? A shameful display of cowardice from the Girl-Who-Lived!"
Unseen by the crowd and the Dragon, Heather crept closer to the nest in the center of the arena. Her disillusioned form barely rippled the air around her. Unfortunately, the Dragon had other advantages than just its eyes. Sniffing the air, it roared. Its head swiveled and locked onto Heather's scent.
Chained down as it was, the Dragon had no choice but to Breathe in Heather's direction. And Breathe it did. Waves of flame flowed out of the Hungarian Horntail's mouth, washing over Heather and silhouetting her invisible form with fire.
"Goodness me! There she is! A cunning trick but not one that's paid off!" Bagman said. "Someone call a MediWitch because I'm sure she'll need one after being barbequed like that!"
Given her current situation, Heather was surprisingly calm. Flames rolled around her and yet she could only feel a soothing heat. It was almost comforting in the weirdest of ways. Still, the Dragon's fire barely bothered her Runic protections.
Feeling that, Heather simply dropped her Disillusion Charm. To the crowd and the Dragon, she appeared in the midst of a sea of flames, unfazed and unharmed. The gasps of thrilled terror from the crowd were silenced immediately.
"I-I don't believe it…" Bagman stuttered in shock. "She's just walking! Menacingly! What sorcery is this?! The Flame-Freezing Charm doesn't work on Dragonfire!"
Heather kept walking toward the nest and her goal. She even stopped for a moment to check her nails, putting on a deliberately nonchalant act for her audience. Even a Dragon's Breath will eventually run out. The magical flames around Heather sputtered and died, leaving her without even a speck of sot on her body.
"That was rather rude," Heather said, still acting as if she was checking her nails.
"Cool as a Flobberworm under pressure!" Bagman's showmanship quickly reemerged. "What's she saying? Someone cast a Sonorus on her!"
Heather's next words were magnified many, many times as three charms hit her simultaneously (even more missed). Her protections deemed them non-harmful and let them through. Her voice boomed, making the audience cover their ears, and the Horntail recoil with a roar that almost sounded like a yelp.
"I just want that bit of gold in your nest, after all. I'm sure we could have done this peacefully… Oh well. My turn~," Heather's act dropped and her grin grew mischievous and malicious.
"Ahck! Too much! Too much!" Bagman shouted and the anonymous spellcasters cancelled their spells.
But the damage was already done. The crowd was struck half-deaf and the Dragon was swaying in place. To the Horntail, Heather's words sounded like the roar of another, much more powerful Dragon. It cowered, trying desperately to guard its nest against an imaginary foe.
Once again, Heather channeled magic into her Runic tattoo. This time, though, she activated her favorite of its abilities. Heather quite literally couldn't thank Hermione enough for making it so she could fly under her own power. She slowly rose into the air, held aloft by magic and willpower.
"S-She's flying! Without a broom! How in the name of magic?! She hasn't even drawn her wand!"
Even with the sudden epidemic of hearing loss plaguing the stadium, Bagman's voice was loud enough to reach everyone's ears, "Is that-?! Oh, my Merlin! Heather Potter with a flying elbow from the top rope!"
Heather's whole body began to crackle with lightning as she floated higher and higher. Finally deciding she was high enough, she paused just long enough to flash Hermione and Atlas an unrepentant smirk. Then she was rocketing downward, elbow primed, cocked, and ready to deliver the wrath of God like she'd seen so many times in Dudley's Pay-per-View American wrestling shows.
A Human-shaped lightning bolt exploded against the Horntail's flank. For a moment, Thor descended to Earth in a flurry of light and thunder. A shockwave rocked the arena to its foundations. Witches and Wizards were bowled over in their seats. And as the thunder faded, echoing off the mountains around Hogwarts, Heather's voice could be heard in a long, drawn-out "Ohhhhh yeahhhhh!"
The Horntail was sent sprawling out of its nest. If this were a cartoon, it would have had comical spirals in its eyes. Still, it was a Class XXXXX Magical Beast and it would not be kept down for long. It struggled and slowly began to stagger to its feet.
Heather didn't even get to enjoy her historic elbow drop - probably the first and only one performed on a Dragon. Seeing the Dragon shakily stand, she knew she didn't have much time. And there was the little issue of her Rune-powered flight quickly running out. It was only temporary, after all. Something about the way the flight Runes interacted with a soft, fleshy body and 'safety', according to Hermione. Heather had been too busy rolling her eyes to truly listen.
With the last legs of her flight, Heather dove for the now unguarded nest. Nimble and accurate as a diving hawk, she swiped the golden egg into her hands and bolted. Every spark of magic Heather could manage at a moment's notice - quite a lot as it turned out - was channeled into the Runes on her back and she shot forward in a straight line. Barely a moment later, a confused and dizzy Hungarian Horntail returned to its post above the nest, none the wiser to Heather's little heist.
Despite the earlier shockwave, Bagman and the rest of the audience were on the edge of their seats, "My word! I'd never thought I'd see it! A perfect Wronski Feint without a broom! And the Girl-Who-Lived pulls up just in time! Look at her go! She's a Phoenix! Or maybe a Thunderbird would be more appropriate in this case…
"I may be biased, folks, but I think that was the most thrilling Task of the day! Simply astonishing! And she's made it out without a scratch-… Oh my! Heather Potter's down! She's tumbling and rolling across the ground! What has happened!?"
Mere moments after making her escape, Heather's temporary Runic flight ran out. It automatically shut off, sending Heather tumbling to the ground. She instinctively tucked and rolled and rolled and rolled. She bled momentum, eventually coming to a stop with a small 'Ooof'. She lay there on her back, clutching her golden prize to her chest before sticking a single thumb in the air.
When she gave the signal that she was okay, the arena's crowd exploded into cheers. Even those that believed Heather cheated her way into the tournament couldn't deny how thrillingly blood-pumping her Task was. She'd used magic none of them had seen before and was daring enough to challenge a Dragon in flight and speed. And most of all, Heather Potter had won.
IIIII
Somewhere in the audience, Draco Malfoy was blushing fiercely and he couldn't for the life of him figure out why.
On either side of him, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle shared a glance and rolled their eyes. Nowhere near as dull as they presented themselves, they were well aware of how dense, foolish, and uncunning their 'boss' could be.
If the contract between their families - the one that Draco somehow still didn't know about - wasn't a factor, they would've never been seen in the same room as the young Malfoy. Though, with the death of Lord Malfoy, that contract was beginning to look less and less like a sure thing…
Somewhere else, Ron Weasley coped and seethed and plotted how to get back into Heather's good graces after scorning her for the better part of a month. He had no idea he never was particularly in her good graces and that fact wouldn't have stopped him anyway. Though perhaps not the most intelligent or skilled of his siblings, Ronald Weasley was by far the most stubborn.
Elsewhere still, Alastor Moody or a man who looked quite like him grunted, "Clever brat. Well, I can't have 'er dyin' easy anyway."
In the Judge's Box, Igor Karkaroff hummed to himself, possibilities sprouting in his mind, "Interesting… I suppose this trip and tournament was not a complete waste of time after all."
Dumbledore's threat of reprisal was swift and thorough, "Igor… If you so much as look at one of my students with the intention of recruiting them - consensually or not -, you will leave Britain in multiple pieces. Still alive pieces, mind you. And I guarantee… Unlike a certain nursery rhyme, you shall not be put back together again."
Karkaroff snorted to hide the visceral fear that the greatest Wizard of the past two centuries inspired in him, "Da. Message received. Students off limits. I like my pieces connected. They will stay that way."
Suddenly, Dumbledore was back to his usual genial, grandfatherly self, "So glad we could come to an understanding, Igor. Care for a pocket drop?"
"A vhat?" Karkaroff sneered in confusion?
"A pocket drop," Dumbledore cheerfully and 'helpfully' explained. "A lemon drop I've been keeping in my pocket for - well, I don't actually know how long. I strongly believe you will want one though…"
There was a certain vindictive undertone to Dumbledore's happy words that sent a chill down Karkaroff's spine, "… D-Da. I would like a pocket drop."
Karkaroff took the offered 'pocket drop' with a sour face. That expression only deepened as he forced himself to eat said lemon-and-lint-scented pocket drop. Suddenly and 'inexplicably', Karkaroff felt like a cat spitting up a hairball.
Alongside this strange interaction, Bartemius Crouch Snr was dramatically pale and looked faint, "Good Merlin… Three close calls and it's only the First Task. The Girl-Who-Lived walked through Dragonfire for goodness sake! T-This may have been a terrible idea…"
"Why, Bartemius, my boy," Dumbledore said, barely hiding his twinkling condescension. "I told you that many times over the summer. Still, you, Bagman, and the Minister would not listen to reason. I believe the expression is 'You reap what you sow'."
Outside the Judge's Box and back in the arena's stands, Luna and the Weasley twins broadcasted commentary for those with enough sense to know that Ludo Bagman was a scheming buffoon. It had been Luna's idea but the twins were more than willing to go along with it and give her a spot next to them.
"And the Wollygonkers go wild!" Luna's voice was filled with enthusiastic oddity as she made references and comparisons that none but her understood.
"Heather Potter snatches the golden egg like it's a Snitch! Just like our match against Slytherin in her First Year!" George exclaimed, running with Luna's eccentricity.
"She seems to have forgotten a key bit of equipment, though, brother dearest," Fred added.
"She doesn't need it!" Luna cut back in. "She's like a Niffler in the wind!"
"Too true, my starry-eyed friend," George agreed. "Heather's got an eye for gold and that egg was in her sights!"
"Makes me so proud," Fred wiped a fake tear from his eye. "Oh, they grow up so fast. One day, they're fighting a Basilisk, and the next, they're pulling the prank of the century on a Dragon.
"Err," George played the straight man. "Seems to me that this is a step down from that first adventure."
Fred blinked, "Oh, I guess you're right."
"Perhaps little Heatherweather had already grown out of the nest by the time she came to Hogwarts?" George suggested.
"She'd have to have with all the fun she gets up to," Fred agreed.
"Girl after our own heart, that one."
"Indeed, O' brother o' mine."
"She's rather nice too," Luna added. "Not single a Wrackspurt in those green eyes of hers."
"I'll bet she has a couple of, uh… flibbldyfickers though!" Fred tried his best to humor her.
Luna just pouted, "Don't steal my schtick. We've got a good thing going here. Don't ruin it like that."
"Apologies for my insensitive twin, Luna-Tuna. I dropped him on his head when we were babies. He just can't help but offend people," George excused.
Luna feigned arrogance, "I guess I shall deign to forgive you. Don't let it happen again."
"Many thanks, Ms. Lovegood, Goodest of Lovers!" Fred declared, winning a giggle from Luna. "I-… wait, when did Heather fall?"
"Just a moment ago," Luna said. "Her Crimson Bovine wings wore off. Don't worry, though, Atlas and Hermione are going to help."
"Her what?" Fred asked in complete confusion.
George shrugged, "Beats me."
IIIII
Hermione and I were out of our seats and making a beeline for the arena floor the moment Heather fell. We were probably the only ones expecting it to happen other than Heather. Hermione had been counting the seconds Heather had left on her flight under her breath.
We hopped the barrier and I slowed our descent to the arena below with an almost negligent spell. No use using our own Runic flight allocation. We weren't nearly as good with it as Heather was anyway.
Bagman's annoying voice echoed out after us, "Hey! Hey! Violation! They can't do that! Can they?"
I called up in reply, all my anger and frustration at the First Task and the tournament coming out at once, "She's got her egg which means the Task is over! There's no way we're leaving her there so you can go suck your own dick for all I care!"
Bagman sputtered vague noises of offense but Dumbledore suddenly spoke up from the Judge's Box, cutting him off, "I'll allow it. Though, I do hope Mr. Bagman takes his autofellatio somewhere private."
Thankfully, that quickly shut Bagman up, leaving me and Hermione to tend to Heather. Honestly, that man just pissed me off. He switched from calling Heather a coward to singing her praises in the blink of an eye. There was a good reason Heather was so done with the Wizarding public and I couldn't help but empathize. If I was in her place, I would have started throwing curses long ago.
"Heather! Heather, are you okay?!" Hermione asked frantically, sliding to a stop on her knees next to Heather's prone form.
"Just dandy," Heather groaned.
"You did great, Heather," I reassured. "I would have preferred a little less pomp and flare though."
Heather opened her eyes and smirked up at us, "Eh, not my style."
Hermione huffed and rolled her eyes. I chuckled, relieved that she was well enough to joke with us.
"C'mon, let's get out of here."
"Right… A little help?" Heather asked sheepishly. "Those flight Runes might need some tweaking 'cause I don't think I've been this sore in a while."
"I'll take another look at them now that we have the time and more data on how they work," Hermione promised.
We helped Heather stand on shaky feet, supporting her between the two of us. Her arm went around Hermione's shoulder and mine went around her waist. Even then, she was short enough that I had to slouch a bit. We began walking out of the arena when Bagman's desperately hurried voice interrupted us again.
"Wait! You can't leave! Uh… score! Heather needs to be judged and scored for her Task!"
I glared up at him in his isolated little commentator's box. He was just asking to get the stuffing hexed out of him at this point. Even from the arena floor, I saw him flinch away from my glare. Served the fool right.
"Get on with it then!" I shouted, making sure everyone there could feel how done I was with all of them - on Heather's behalf and my own.
(Un)Fortunately, I didn't get an excuse to hex Bagman into next week. Well, not a better one at least. He was still and would always be on my shitlist for making Heather compete in this farce he was pushing as Head of Magical Games and Sports.
Maybe influenced by my ire, Bagman instantly put up a '10' and then tried to shy away from my gaze. Crouch and the Headmasters went next and Crouch gave Heather the lowest score of the bunch - a 6. Karkaroff gave her an 8, as did Madame Maxime. Dumbledore finished off the judging with a 10 and a pair of twinkling eyes that were visible even from the floor of the arena.
"Great!" I said, thoroughly done with this thanks to the way I could feel Heather flagging against my side. "Someone tell the other champions the Task is over. We're done here. I'm taking Heather to get some sleep."
My words sparked murmurs and giggles from the crowd - mostly the students - and I rolled my eyes, "Not like that, you degenerates. She just fought a Dragon. I think she deserves a nap."
I ignored the further chatter from the crowd as Heather, Hermione, and I made our way out of the stadium. The fact that Heather was now in first place in a tournament she never wanted to be in was also ignored by all three of us. No one barred our exit, not even the Dragon that Heather had tricked and elbow dropped. It seemed content to be left to its clutch. Whatever. Let the qualified Dragon Handlers handle it.
Once outside the stadium, we began making our way back to the Castle only to be stopped by a garish-looking woman who claimed to be a reporter.
"Rita Skeeter. I'm sure you've heard of me," She 'introduced' herself. "Heather, it's ~so good~ to see you again. You must tell me everything about your Task. I insist~"
Her inflection when she spoke was grating on my nerves so I cut in, "No comment. I'm sure Heather is in no mood to do an interview."
"Oh?" Skeeter seemed to ignore me and focus on me at the same time, still addressing Heather. "Who's your handsome older friend, Heather~?"
"Atlas White. Assistant Professor for Hogwarts and Heather's chosen guardian/coach for the tournament. Now, if you'll excuse-…" I said, trying to make a clean exit.
Skeeter interrupted me, "Ooooh~ Now you've caught my interest. Is that scandal I smell? My nose never lies when it comes to information like this~"
I shook my head, quickly coming to the decision that I didn't like this woman, "No, I'm just trying to keep her alive through this tournament. Nothing more."
"Come now~, Atlas, was it? You don't need to lie to me," Rita turned on a kind of oily charm. "Give me a good story and ~I'll make it worth your while~"
"Please don't," I refused steadfastly, not even trying to hide the shiver her words inspired. "There's no story to tell here."
"Puh-lease," Skeeter scoffed, blocking our way when we tried to leave. "You expect me to believe that? A young Professor and his champion? This is gold just waiting to be exploited-… Ahem… to be reported."
"I don't rightly care what you believe," I said, my voice growing terse. "I've asked you nicely to leave us alone. If you continue pestering us, I'll be forced to take more drastic measures to ensure the safety of my students."
Rita Skeeter's grin was practically bloodthirsty. I took it to mean she wouldn't be complying with my request. The way she inched closer, trying to box us in only solidified that idea. And I was way past playing nice.
My wand came up in a flash. The garish reporter was banished away from us, squawking as she went. Ropes were conjured and charmed to wrap around her. We left her there trussed up from her mouth to her knees.
Disgust was painted across Hermione's face, "What a horrid woman."
Heather let out an exhausted chuckle, "Yeah… I think I'll need you to handle all my interactions with her in the future, Atlas. I can't tell you how much I wanted to do what you just did during the Wand-Weighing ceremony."
"Sure thing," I readily agreed. "I don't know if I want you talking to her alone anyway. She gives me the creeps. I feel like she'd do anything for a 'story'."
We fell into silence for the rest of our journey back to the Castle. Eventually, we were joined by Luna and the Weasley twins. The rest of the student audience trailed behind us, seemingly not brave enough to come to bother Heather. Waiting for us at the door of the Castle was someone who actually deserved my attention (unlike a certain tied-up reporter).
"Mr. White?" The unfamiliar man called out to me, asking politely but severely. "I'm Auror John Dawlish. Would you be willing to answer a few questions for me about your role in the World Cup Riot this summer?"
18: Complications of the Legal Variety
"Another day, another Galleon," Amelia Bones muttered to herself. "It really never stops. If only there was a word for this feeling of constantly working toward something."
Her flat, functional Dragonhide boots clicked against the tile with each step as she walked through the DMLE bullpens. Her Aurors were hard at work or hardly working. But it was early enough that Amelia wasn't about to get on any of their cases about work ethic.
These past months had been even more busy than usual. Which was saying something for the department responsible for keeping the peace in Wizarding Britain. In addition to the string of hag-perpetrated muggings and dark artifacts, the DMLE had been slapped with managing the aftermath of the Quidditch World Cup and the subsequent Riot.
That night had been chaotic and busy enough. Amelia and her best hadn't gotten a wink of sleep, putting out fires - mostly literally - and directing the panicking mobs. When the Dark Mark had been cast, she'd finally had enough and taken a squad of Aurors to deal with the perpetrators directly.
What she'd found still made her head throb months later. Blasted Death Eaters had gotten bold again. It was as if they were transported back into the war.
They'd caught a couple of the bastards red-handed. Quite literally still in that damned uniform and torturing Muggles or Muggle-born.
Of course, Amelia hadn't managed to keep them for longer than that single night. She hadn't even been able to have their masks removed before they were pardoned to the last. Apparently, Fudge had gotten complaints about 'upstanding citizens caught up in some big misunderstanding!'
The bastards didn't even have to plead Imperius this time. They just had to have enough gold in their pockets to buy their way out of her holding cells. And Amelia could only fume impotently. Fudge had already slashed her budget yet again, sending a very plain message. If Amelia wanted the resources to continue to do her job at all, she'd drop the investigation into 'upstanding Pure-Bloods' who could 'never be Death Eaters'.
That was the absolute worst part of the job. The obvious corruption of her superior and the society she was sworn to protect. Still, that night hadn't been entirely without good news. For one, Fudge was now feeling the heat since it had been his wand that cast the Dark Mark. He reported it stolen but that didn't change how suspicious he looked or the amount of dissent he was presently facing from the Wizenmagot and the public.
For a second bit of good news, Amelia and her Aurors had come across a scene that could only be described as vigilante justice. Three Death Eaters blown to Kingdom Come. There had barely been enough left of them to identify. And another Death Eater slaughtered like livestock and left for dead. That one, at least, had been easy enough to identify as Lucius Malfoy.
Which, of course, had Fudge calling murder when he found out. Suddenly, he wanted Amelia to continue the investigation into the events surrounding the World Cup Riot and to spare no expense. Though, her investigation was now supposed to be focused on the 'murderer' responsible for the deaths of several 'misguided' Pure-Bloods who'd been caught up in a 'cruel prank'. What a surprise.
That was months ago and since then, the DMLE had been grasping at straws (mostly on purpose). But Fudge was getting demanding and desperate as his position stayed tenuous and the Wizengamot continued to turn against him. Without his 'most generous donator', he must have been having a hard time buying public opinion.
Amelia barely got to sit down in her office before a ghostly crow Patronus floated through her wall and opened its beak, "Director Bones. The Minister requests your presence in his office immediately."
The fact that it wasn't Fudge's voice that came from the Patronus made Amelia stifle a snort. Of course, he left the somewhat difficult messaging spell to someone else. Fudge wouldn't be able to cast a Patronus if he was in a bath of Galleons with two Veela tending to his every need.
With a brief, heart-warming, spirit-raising thought of her niece, Amelia summoned her own Patronus to reply, "Tell him I shall be there shortly."
On her way out of her office, she called out again, "Tonks. With me."
Tonks (no first name) was one of Amelia's newer Aurors but still one of the most promising she'd had in years. She was perfectly suited for infiltration work, quick in a fight, trained by Alastor Moody himself, and untouched by the corruption that Amelia knew tainted even her department. She was most definitely someone Amelia was keeping an eye on for the fast track.
"You got it, boss," Tonks said, falling into step alongside Amelia.
"Change your face, Tonks," Amelia ordered. "We're meeting with Fudge and I intend to keep you to myself. No sense showing him what you typically look like."
Amelia didn't even have to look to confirm Tonks was following her orders. The Metamorphmagus was good like that. Her hair shifted from its usual pinkish-purple to black, extending to her shoulders. Her face shifted as well, settling into a more 'noble' visage to play to their upcoming audience.
They caught an elevator up a level in silence. Amelia just wanted to get this over with. It would inevitably be a farce of justice and she had a bad feeling about this meeting in particular. Fudge was getting a little too desperate for her tastes. He was bound to try something drastic soon.
The doors dinged open on the Minister's floor and the pair walked through them with an unhurried but ground-eating pace. The rich decor tickled Amelia's sensibilities and not in a good way. Yet more evidence of how corrupt their government was.
Fudge was standing by a shelf in his office as if examining something. His simpering toady of an Under-Secretary sat in the corner of the room, smirking at Amelia and Tonks as they entered.
"I'm sure we're both very busy people so let's keep this brief. What's this about, Cornelius?" Amelia cut straight to the point.
"Ah, yes, yes, of course, Amelia," Fudge allowed, turning to address his visitors. "As you might have guessed, this is about the investigation into the Riot at the Quidditch World Cup this summer. I believe I've made a breakthrough in the case!"
Amelia raised an imperious eyebrow, "I wasn't aware you were on my payroll, Cornelius."
Fudge's gaze grew distant for a moment, "Yes… A raise does seem to be in order."
He focused back on Amelia, "Splendid idea, Amelia. Anyhow, I have found our new prime suspect!"
"I see…" Amelia said flatly. "And you're sure?"
"Yes, yes, I remember it like it was yesterday," Fudge waved off her obvious disbelief. "There was an unknown rapscallion in the Top Box with the rest of us upstanding Pure-Bloods! And the Weasley family as well, I suppose. But it must be him!"
"Must it?" Fudge just nodded almost earnestly to Amelia's disbelief. "Very well. Who was this 'unknown rapscallion'?"
"A Mud-… Muggle-born fellow," Fudge pressed on as if he hadn't just used a slur. "Who introduced himself as Atlas White. He talked with Lucius and Narcissa for a short while. Probably to set up poor, noble Lucius… He was the only one in the Top Box who was unknown to me. Why, Amelia, do you think the Girl-Who-Lived could have stolen my wand? Preposterous!"
"Atlas White?" Amelia said slowly. "As in the same Atlas White who was recently hired on as a Professor by Hogwarts? The same Atlas White who's taken it unto himself to train Heather Potter for a tournament she's in no way qualified to be in? That's a bold accusation, Cornelius."
"A Professor! My goodness!" Fudge sputtered. "He must have infiltrated the school as a cover for his dastardly plans and pranks! He's planning on taking down our good Wizarding society from the inside!"
Amelia sighed, "I very much doubt that, Cornelius."
"Hem, hem…" The simpering toady in the corner of the room spoke up for the first time. "We did not ask for your opinion, Madam Bones. We asked for your effort and cooperation. This… Atlas White… will be arrested for stealing the Minister's wand and murdering four Pure-Blood lords. Simply because he is guilty of it. Of that, we are quite sure."
Fudge nodded, "Indeed, Dolores. I couldn't have said it better myself."
The toady (Amelia refused to use her name or 'proper' title) preened and Amelia barely resisted rubbing her temples, "I'll get right on that. Now, if you'll excuse me, I feel something coming on."
"A migraine," Amelia muttered as she turned her back to leave and Tonks followed.
Before the door to the Minister's office closed behind them, Amelia heard the beginnings of a worrying conversation from the toady, "Wonderful job, Cornelius. You wield your power so elegantly. Masterful railroading. But will it be enough? I had a suggestion. What if we-…"
Amelia and Tonks made their way back to the DMLE offices in silence again, mindful that the walls had ears. Amelia was fit to burst with indignation and frustration as she schemed to follow Fudge's orders in the most maliciously compliant way possible.
Everything she'd heard from her niece about Hogwarts' newest Professor was good and promising in the extreme. This Atlas White was - according to Susan - a solid addition to the Castle's staff, had a way with students (especially the Witches if Amelia read between the lines correctly), and was just generally competent. And if he really was responsible for the deaths of Lucius and co, Amelia would be practically debt-bound to make sure Fudge's plans for the young man didn't succeed.
Once inside her office, Amelia slumped into her seat. It was still much too early to drink. After a moment, she pulled herself together and pushed the building migraine away with pure strength of will.
"Tonks," She said. "I have a task for you. I'm going to put-… who's a good choice? Corrupt but competent enough to at least do their due diligence… Dawlish.
"I'm putting Dawlish on this White case. You're going to be doing everything you can to keep that young man from actually being arrested. Let him be questioned but don't let it go further. Tell Dawlish you're putting him under guard or something. That way Dawlish can report that he did his job and White will stay out of Fudge's reach."
Tonks acknowledged her orders, "You got it, boss. But, uh, you know Fudge will still push for a trial, right?"
Amelia sighed, "I know. But it's the best we can do at the moment. At least this way, White will be forced to actually appear before the Wizengamot for a trial if Fudge wants to do anything. It wouldn't surprise me a bit if White disappeared before he could make it to our holding cells…"
IIIII
"Go on, girls," I reassured. "I'm sure I'll be fine. Fred? George? Get them to the Castle for me, yeah? Heather could really use some rest."
It'd taken a bit of prodding but I finally got the girls to leave me alone with the Auror who wanted to question me. A not-so-small part of me was more nervous than I let on to them. But I pushed that part to the back of my mind. I wasn't merely a lone 'Muggle-born'. I had the backing of Hogwarts. They couldn't just try to railroad a (hopefully) respected Professor into Azkaban or through the Veil, right?
"Should I be seeking legal counsel?" I asked the Auror.
He shook his head, "I don't think that will be necessary. I just want to ask you a few questions. You're not under arrest at this time."
Very discreetly, I summoned a Messanger Patronus behind my back. It naturally recorded John Dawlish's words before I sent it off unseen. A ghostly cat slunk away to find Dumbledore. Just to keep him informed in case the worst happened.
"Very well," I said agreeably. "I'll cooperate but I reserve the right to decline to answer."
Suddenly, the Auror's body language became more closed off and almost ready, "I don't think that would be wise, Mr. White."
"Professor," I corrected.
"What?"
I probably should have avoided tweaking the magical bobby but I couldn't resist, "Professor White. If I'm treating you with the due respect, I expect some in return."
John Dawlish stared at me for a moment before visibly swallowing what he was about to say, "… Alright, Professor White. I'm going to have to ask you to state your full name, age, profession, and blood status for the record."
I stifled a snort of disgust, "If you think that's necessary… Atlas White. 20 years of age. Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Muggle-born to the best of my current knowledge."
Dawlish nodded and I noticed a Dictaquill floating beside him and writing down what I'd said, "Very good. Now, what was your reason for attending the Quidditch World Cup this summer? And more importantly, why were you seated in the Top Box along with the Minister and the late Lord Malfoy?"
Just based on the names he focused on, I had a feeling I knew where this interview was heading, "I was tasked with chaperoning Heather Potter and her friend Hermione Granger by Headmaster Dumbledore. As for being in the Top Box… well, I just went where they did."
"So there was no premeditation behind your seating?" Dawlish asked.
"None at all. I didn't even intend to go to the World Cup until the Headmaster asked me to."
"I see… Next question," Dawlish quickly moved on. "Did you notice anything odd, anything out of sorts, during the match itself?"
I shook my head, "My focus was on my charges, not the Quidditch being played."
"That's admirable and all, but I meant around the Top Box itself. Not the match," Dawlish clarified.
I hummed as I thought for a moment, "Hmm… Well, I do remember something. I thought I saw something like an invisible hand taking something from somebody but I couldn't confirm anything. It could very well have been my imagination or a trick of the light."
"Right, so the Top Box had a ghost?" Dawlish scoffed. "You expect me to believe that? The thing stolen wouldn't happen to have been the Minister's wand, would it?"
"Or someone under an invisibility cloak," I suggested. "I don't think I appreciate the accusation in your tone, Auror. I'm just trying to recall what happened. I have no concrete ideas for how the Minister 'misplaced' his wand."
Dawlish grunted but I could tell he still didn't fully believe me, "We'll be coming back to this in a bit. Tell me about the aftermath of the match."
I began, "Well, Heather convinced me to stay and partake in the festivities. We walked around the campgrounds for a bit. I eventually got dumped with the youngest Weasley children as well. We had a bit of fun and got into a bit of trouble, but I kept everyone in line."
"Trouble?" Dawlish immediately zeroed in on that bit of my statement.
I elaborated, "You've got to understand something. They're all teenagers. Hell, I'm not much older. And teenagers like to cause a bit of mischief. I didn't see any reason to stop them so I just kept things from getting out of hand. They played a few pranks at most and we retired to Heather's tent for the night."
Dawlish didn't look convinced of the innocence of our World Cup 'fun' but he kept the interview moving, "What happened after the Riot started?"
"I wanted to get out of there. Heather wanted to stay and help. She's got a bit of a 'saving people thing' going for her. In the end, she convinced me and we began helping everyone we could."
Dawlish nodded, "Makes sense. Wouldn't expect anything less from the Girl-Who-Lived."
I winced, knowing that Heather hated being compared to her title like that, "Yeah… We quickly figured out that Death Eaters were the ones responsible for the chaos-…"
"Pranksters," Dawlish interrupted me to 'correct'. "It has been determined that no actual Death Eaters were present at the Riot. It was all some elaborate, and admittedly crude, prank and the culprits were only impersonating Death Eaters."
"What?" I asked incredulously. "That's a load of crock. I saw multiple of the so-called 'fake' Death Eaters using Unforgivables. I saved a man from the Cruciatus Curse."
"Then you must be mistaken," Dawlish asserted, unwilling to even humor me.
I was dumbfounded by the stonewalled denial, "That's-… I don't think I will be answering any more questions if that's what you and your department believe to be the true explanation of events."
"I would continue to cooperate if I were you, Professor White," Dawlish warned warily, fingering his sleeve in a way that told me he was anticipating any movement I could make.
"I don't think I will," I said, making no moves that could have been mistaken for threatening. "I find myself questioning your ability to remain impartial and objective on the matter. If I tell you the rest of my story, there is a good chance you'll just try to arrest me."
"Now, why would I have to do that, Professor?" Dawlish had drawn his wand at this point and held it ready but not pointed at me.
"I think I'd like to exercise my right to a solicitor," I drawled almost lazily.
"That only applies if you've already been arrested, Professor. Should I help you with that?" The Auror's wand hand twitched in anticipation.
"If you want to explain to Dumbledore why you drew your wand on one of his Professors, be my guest," I invited, spreading my empty hands wide.
"Let the record show that the subject is being uncooperative and combative. Active Auror moving to subdue," Dawlish noted for the Dictaquill that still floated beside him.
I mentally sighed. Of course, things had to come to this. Dawlish's wand came up to point at me. As he began to cast a silent stunning spell, my magic moved as well. It poured into the tattoo on my chest. A short beam of red light shot at my center of mass. In an instant, a cloak of lightning overtook my body. The Stupefy crackled harmlessly against the suddenly appearing shield.
Before Dawlish or I could make another move, another stunning spell came flying into our little confrontation. It struck true and Dawlish slumped to the ground unconscious. I stopped suddenly in no small amount of surprise. Dawlish's Dictaquill kept floating there beside his slumped form, the quill paused as if waiting for something to break the silence. And as if restarting the world, something did.
A woman ran up, securing Dawlish by relieving him of his wand, and began speaking to the Dictaquill, "Auror Tonks acting on behalf of Director Bones. Auror Dawlish has been temporarily neutralized for disobeying an order from Madam Bones.
"Please note that Auror Dawlish attempted to unjustly arrest the subject with a silent stunning spell - going against law and protocol. He has been stunned in turn. Auror Dawlish's intentions were unclear at this time and should be subject to further investigation.
"On direct orders from Madam Bones, the subject - Atlas White - shall now be put under guard by Auror Tonks to ensure he makes it to his inevitable trial. Auror Dawlish shall be returned to a DMLE holding cell along with this record. Finite. Portus. Mark."
In order, the Dictaquill stopped writing and collapsed back into a seemingly simple bit of parchment and quill. It landed on Dawlish's chest. This mystery Auror Tonks then placed a Portkey spell on a rock and slapped it onto Dawlish's chest as well. Her final word activated the Portkey and Dawlish disappeared with a swirl of magic.
Auror Tonks let out a sigh and turned to give me my first real look at her, "Wotcher! Sorry 'bout all of that."
Auror Tonks was certainly a unique-looking woman. She looked like a Witch who'd discovered the Muggle punk movement and completely ran with it. Short, jagged, pinkish-purple hair framed her conventionally attractive face. Her body seemed almost streamlined beneath her 'robes'. Those robes were only half-length and looked more like a strange cross between a windbreaker and a pullover and were left open in the front to reveal a graphic tee. A pair of skintight ripped jeans hugged her surprisingly shapely legs.
Spoiler: Tonks
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"Uh… wotcher?" I greeted her back.
A cheerful grin overtook her face, "Nice to meet ya, Mr. Atlas White. I'm Auror Tonks. Just call me Tonks though. Again, sorry about all the trouble. Someone high up wants to be seen doing something about the Cup Riot and seems to think you're the perfect person to take the blame."
"How do they even know about me?" I asked.
Tonks adopted a sheepish expression, "I can't really reveal that without revealing who's after you. And I don't want to freak you out with the news that the Minister wants your head delivered to him on a platter."
"The Minister? What did I ever do to him?"
"He seems to think you killed his main money bag," Tonks explained.
"That's ridicul-… Oh…" I trailed off as I realized she could be referring to one of the Death Eaters I'd killed.
"Ah! Don't tell me anything! If you do, I might have to arrest you and that'd go against my mission orders. I'm sure there's a very reasonable explanation to everything and it will come out in a court of law. My job is just to make sure you actually have a chance to tell your story," Tonks held her hands up to stop me from saying anything more.
"Besides," She whispered conspiratorially. "Knowing the 'victim', my boss and I are of the opinion that whatever happened had to have been deserved. You didn't hear that from me though, right?"
"Right…" I agreed hesitantly. "So you're here to guard me until I go to trial?"
Tonks nodded, "Got it in one, Guv."
I pinched the bridge of my nose between two fingers, "Great. As if I didn't already have enough on my plate."
"Aww, you won't even notice I'm here. I can blend in really well," Tonks reassured with a grin.
"It's not you. Just the idea of a trial in general. Any clue when that will be happening?" I asked.
Tonks shrugged, "Pretty soon, I reckon. Can't see the big guy dragging his feet on something like this."
"Might as well go tell Dumbledore about this then. You need permission to stay in the Castle anyway," I sighed.
We started the walk back to the Castle. At the same time, I sent another Messenger Patronus to Dumbledore to update him and tell him I was bringing a guest. That Patronus turned out to be unnecessary because he was waiting for us at the Castle's front doors, his eyes twinkling and his wand discreetly drawn.
"Wonderful," Dumbledore said. "It seems I won't need to interfere. Thank you, Tonks, for what I imagine was your timely intervention."
"Just doing my job, Headmaster," Tonks seemed to automatically snap to attention in Dumbledore's presence.
"None of that formality, my dear," Dumbledore dismissed. "You graduated nearly five years ago now. And you're now a full-fledged Auror. Feel free to call me Albus."
Tonks was obviously not completely comfortable with that allowance. I nudged her knowingly, "You get used to it."
Dumbledore ignored our little exchange, "Now, Atlas, I think it's best if you go find your ward and her friends. The festivities have already started and I suspect they've been sucked into the flow of things. I'll take Tonks here and get her situated in the Castle for the time being."
I cursed under my breath, "Blast… Of course, they got sucked into things when all Heather needs right now is rest. I'll see you later, Tonks. It's been a pleasure meeting you."
She tried to stop me but Dumbledore's next words put a halt to that, "Oh, let him go, Tonks. Do not worry. Atlas will not be in any danger within Hogwarts' walls. How about we go see your Auror mentor in the meantime?"
Tonks stopped in place and shuddered viscerally, "Moody's here? Ah, shite…"
As I made my exit, Dumbledore chuckled, "He is. Though… I have been slightly worried about him lately. He doesn't seem to be himself…"
I didn't catch any more of the conversation, slipping through the Castle's main doors. As I began my search for Heather and the rest, I was struck by a strange thought. I don't think I've ever seen a map of Hogwarts. Seems like an oversight. I couldn't tell how many times one would have helped navigate the twisting staircases and corridors that appeared to go nowhere but ended up by the Great Hall.
Still, there was only one logical place the girls could be at the moment. They must have been dragged to Gryffindor Tower by the twins. The Weasleys probably meant well but they'd taken Heather right to the place where she'd get no rest at all. Right into the lion's den so Heather could feel her House's opinion of her switching dramatically yet again. Just because she hadn't immediately died during the First Task…
Public opinion was fickle like that. And right now, it was the last thing Heather needed. I could only hope I arrived before either Heather or Hermione (or Merlin-forbid, Luna) snapped at the wishy-washy masses of Gryffindor House.
It turned out that I didn't even need to slip past the Gryffindor portrait and into the Common Room. I ran into Heather, Hermione, and Luna standing outside with an unlikely fourth. They were in a heated conversation so I stayed back momentarily to observe Ron Weasley try to weasel himself back into Heather's good graces.
"That's a poor excuse for an apology, Ron, and you know it!" Hermione lectured with her hands on her hips. Heather looked like she was fit to pass out at any moment. Luna just looked back at me and discreetly smiled and waved.
"Oh, get off my back! What do you want from me?" Ron groaned. "I said all the right things. She probably didn't cheat and all that junk."
"How about actually apologizing?! Saying the words 'I'm sorry'?" Hermione was more than offended enough on Heather's behalf for both of them.
Heather exhaled her exhaustion, "Ron, can't we do this some other time? I'm dead on my feet here."
Ron sneered, "Oh, so you're too good for me now, is that it? Can't even spare a couple of seconds to forgive your best mate?"
Heather slumped, almost in defeat, "Do we really have to do this?"
"Yeah, I think we do!" Ron yelled. "It's obvious something more's going on! You've been trying to push me out all summer! All because, what? This is about that rotting Professor, isn't it?"
"Alright," I finally made myself known. "None of this seems to be productive. How about we all just take a breather and revisit this conversation in the morning? Heather could use some actual rest and I think you could use the time to get your thoughts and feelings in order, Ron."
"Mingy tosser," Ron grumbled.
Heather, however, hopped on the chance to disengage, "Great idea, Atlas. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to get some sleep. And considering the reception we received tonight, I doubt I'll be able to do that in the dorms."
"Where are you going to sleep?" I asked as Heather walked away and Ron stormed back through the Gryffindor Portrait door.
Heather's answer was instantaneous, "Room of Requirement. I can even ask it to make me a nice hot bath to soak in."
I nodded, "Alright. Are you sure you're okay? After everything that's happened today, it's alright to be a bit vulnerable."
"Honestly?" Heather sighed. "No. No, I'm not. I fought a Dragon. Even with Hermione's Runes, that was terrifying. And then once I'd survived, everyone instantly switched up the way they acted around me. Now, I'm back to being the 'hero of Gryffindor' and they still think I cheated my name into that damned Goblet."
I slung an arm around her shoulder and pulled her into my side as we walked. She all but collapsed into the embrace, barely managing to continue putting one foot in front of the other. Hermione and Luna trailed just behind us.
"What did the Auror want to talk to you about?" Hermione asked.
I snorted, "Merlin, that's a whole other can of worms…"
IIIII
I didn't see Tonks again before I went to sleep for the night. I just had to assume Dumbledore set her up with quarters near mine since her whole purpose here was to guard me. Still, I put it out of my mind and retired early for the night. The after-task festivities were still going strong with parties in Common Rooms and more private 'parties' in the Castle's various broom cupboards. The policing of those things wasn't really my business though.
I recounted the interview with Dawlish to Hermione, Heather, and Luna. It was met with muted outrage. Mostly they were too tired to deal with it right now. Luna, as always, was the exception but she seemed happy to put my future troubles on the back burner as well. As far as she could see, she had more interesting things to do at the moment.
"Luna! Hands to yourself!" Hermione chastised.
Luna pouted, "I'm just helping Heather into bed. Look, she needs all the support she can get. Especially here~"
Heather let out a tired moan as Luna's hands did their best to cup her breasts, "Y-Yeahhhh~ I wouldn't say no to some support while I sleep."
Chuckling to myself, I left them to figure this out for themselves. I trusted Luna to sleep with Heather and Hermione without going too far. It was just nice to see her making more friends, I thought as I made my way back to my room to collapse myself.
When I did, I found Septima waiting for me, "Co~ven~ Lord~ Come let me show how proud of you I am~ Coaching a Fourth Year through a life-threatening task. It makes you seem so… ~competent~"
The sight of her in a Witch's hat and thigh-high stockings with a garter belt instantly brought me back to full wakefulness. Soft and plush from a mostly sedentary lifestyle, the stockings and garters bite into the flesh of Septima's lower body. She gave me a sultry grin from beneath the brim of the Witch's hat.
My cock was immediately throbbing in my pants, threatening to tear through its cloth prison. I, of course, helped it free itself. No sense in keeping a lady like Septima waiting. Her grin widened as my clothes came off in a blur and she giggled as I stalked toward her. My lips pressing against hers pulled a gasp from her lungs and her hand sought out mine to intertwine our fingers. Needless to say, an hour or so was 'wasted' before we actually got to sleep.
Much later that night, I was struck by a sense of deja vu. A knock at the door to my quarters brought me back to the first night of the school year when Luna appeared at my door and in my life. Something groggy in the back of my mind desperately hoped this wasn't a repeat as I got up to answer the knock. One Luna in my life was more than enough for me, thank you.
Septima stirred vaguely from the sudden lack of my body heat. Hopefully, whatever this was would be dealt with quickly. I had a strange premonition that it wouldn't be though.
I opened my door to thin air, "Hello?"
The air shifted, pulling back on itself to reveal Heather's head, looking much more rested than when I left her, "Can I come in?"
I sighed but welcomed her inside, "Of course, Heather. Anytime. What's up?"
She breezed past me into the room. The invisibility cloak around her was removed and bunched up in her hands, revealing that Heather wasn't alone in her late-night visit. Padfoot stood at her side, previously covered by the cloak and looking… serious.
Heather herself looked about as nervous as I'd ever seen her. Even the Dragon hadn't worried her as much as her purpose now. Septima stirred completely now that we weren't alone, collecting the sheets of our bed around her naked body. Only then did I realize I was woefully underdressed and move to rectify that.
Heather's eyes looked everywhere but at me, "I-I-… We have to tell you something. And I need you not to freak out. I'm putting a lot of trust in you. Like, a lot. But my advice went unheeded and my hands are kind of tied now."
"Is this something you feel comfortable telling Septima too?" I asked, pulling on a pair of pants and throwing an open shirt around my shoulders.
Heather's eyes darted to Septima, then to Padfoot, and then back to me, "… Do you trust her?"
My answer was immediate and firm, "Yes."
"Then I will as well."
I stayed quiet as Heather seemed to gather her courage. She looked to her familiar, "Well, Padfoot? Now or never."
Before I could question Heather's actions further, Padfoot stepped forward. As he did, his form began to shift and change.
"Fuck, Animagus… That makes so much sense now," I muttered to myself as the change was completed.
Eventually, two people stood in front of me instead of just a young woman and her dog. Padfoot's shaggy mane stayed in the form of a head of long, wavy hair. Features that looked oh-so-familiar were partially obscured by a shoddily-shaven beard. I was struck motionless in the face of that familiarity.
In the background, I vaguely heard Septima gasp and reach for her wand. At the same time, the door to my quarters slammed open again and Tonks fell through it with a rolling stumble, coming up with her wand at the ready and pointing at Padfoot.
"Wait! Sirius is innocent!" Heather hurriedly exclaimed.
Sirius Black was in my room. At Hogwarts. Next to the woman he was supposed to be hell-bent on killing. And she was vouching for his innocence. And an Auror had just barged in on me with a wanted fugitive. And somehow, all I could focus on was the familiarly sheepish grin Sirius Black was showing me…
19: Heritage Revealed
"Heather Potter," Tonks said slowly and carefully. "Step away from the fugitive so I may arrest him. This is for your own safety."
Heather practically growled protectively, "You'll have to go through me first! Sirius is innocent! He's my Godfather for Magic's sake!"
"And that just makes his betrayal and trickery all the more tragic," Tonks continued. "Trust me, I don't want to do this either. But he's a wanted murderer and Death Eater. Step away from him slowly and we may all just get out of this unharmed."
"He's not a wanted anything!" Heather huffed. "He never even had a trial! All he's guilty of is escaping unlawful custody and a literal Hell on Earth!"
Heather's insistent denial seemed to be swaying Tonks somewhat, "That's… certainly concerning. How about he surrenders himself to me and we can figure this out together?"
Throughout the argument, Sirius Black just kept smirking at me like we were old friends until he finally said, "Witches, am I right?"
As if it was coordinated, Heather and Tonks both sent stinging hexes at Sirius, making him jump and yelp. Their verbal responses were also synchronized, though they each called him by a unique nickname, "Shut up, Padfoot/Cousin Siri!"
The two of them looked at each other and an amused Heather said, "You know… maybe you should just take him."
"I don't think I want to anymore," Tonks shot back.
"Witches, am I right?" Sirius repeated himself with an unrepentant smirk, trying to get his punchline to land.
Heather and Tonks just rolled their eyes, zapping him again with synchronized hexes. Sirius' attempts at humor still seemed to have done the job of de-escalating the situation though. Tonks lowered her wand but didn't put it away, less ready to start throwing spells now that it was clear Sirius Black wasn't about to do something drastic or dangerous.
"Well, this is certainly interesting…" Septima said, reminding us all that she was still there and still very naked beneath that sheet. "Hopefully it does not devolve into violence. I'm afraid I'm woefully underdressed for that activity."
Sirius waggled his eyebrows at me knowingly. He had the decency to not ogle Septima though so I couldn't get too annoyed.
"Ahhh…" He sighed over-dramatically. "This reminds me of Tahiti. One naked witch, one trying to arrest me, and another sneaking me into a man's bedroom for criminal mischief… Good times."
I raised an eyebrow, "And none of them wanted to sleep with you that time as well?"
"Ha!" Sirius barked a laugh. "Apple doesn't fall far from the tree, I see."
Tonks crinkled her nose in confusion and I suddenly got the worst premonition, "What's that supposed to mean?"
Sirius looked everywhere but me awkwardly, "Err… How about we establish my innocence first before we get into that packet of beans?"
Heather looked between me and Sirius as a hint of something began to dawn on her face. Something similar happened to the others in the room and I suddenly felt like I wasn't the only one who could see the resemblance. I both hyper-fixated on it and tried to ignore it at the same time, my mind jumping between theories and denials in the span of seconds.
"Right… We'll come back to that," Tonks thankfully said. "Now, innocence business. Fess up, Cousin Siri."
"Pettigrew was the secret keeper," The words practically tumbled out of Sirius' mouth. "Everyone thought it was me but James and I were pulling a fast one. Pettigrew was secretly a Death Eater the whole time. He sold the Potters out and I chased after him for revenge like a bone-headed idiot. He faked his death and framed me for everything.
"He's a rat Animagus. That's how he escaped and has hidden for all of these years. I was thrown into Azkaban without a trial. Just woke up in a cell. I'm sure you could dig up proof of that (or lack of it) at the Ministry."
His words seemed to physically strike Tonks and she rocked back on her heels, "Fuuuuuccckkkkk… Madam Bones is going to flip her shit if even an ounce of that is true."
"It all is. I'll swear on it. I'll testify under Veritaserum," Sirius asserted firmly.
"Bugger all," Tonks swore, half to herself and half to the rest of us. "This is worse than Atlas' situation. Why haven't you tried to turn yourself in? Bones would give you a fair shot."
Sirius barked a laugh that was utterly devoid of humor, "It's not Amelia that I'm worried about. We go way back. Hell, I was sweet on her before… before everything happened.
"Fudge though? I wouldn't trust him with my back if all he had was a rock. He's already tried to silence me with Dementors. I think he's helping Lucius Malfoy take the House of Black from me. Well… 'was'."
"Nice shot there, Atlas," Sirius finished with a smirk.
"Didn't hear that last bit and I don't want to," Tonks pled ignorance of the bit of information she would have been forced to act upon. "Still… Shite, that makes a twisted kind of sense, doesn't it? I heard about the Dementors. Bones was furious but she couldn't do much. It was the only time they'd been let off Azkaban since they switched sides during the war. Why else would Fudge do that unless he wanted to send a message written in death, your death?"
"If what Heather told me about Atlas' situation is accurate, the case for Line Theft gets even stronger than that. Though, I very much doubt Fudge knows where he messed up there," Sirius grinned.
"Why's that?" I asked, dread and something I could barely recognize as hope bubbling up in my chest.
"Well…" Sirius hedged. "You're a Black. My only true-blooded heir at that. Something happens to me, Headship of the House goes to you. If something happens to you, Headship goes to Draco Malfoy. It'd actually go to Heather here but Lucius didn't know that and Fudge certainly doesn't either."
Silence reigned, overtaking my quarters at Sirius' matter-of-fact reveal of life-changing information. My suspicions were confirmed and the premonition from earlier became a reality. I didn't know how to feel. Relief and hope warred with discontent and frustration in my heart.
Slowly, I walked up to Sirius. He looked at me with worry and no small amount of his own hope in his eyes. On one hand, I now knew who my father was. And I had a family beyond him based on how Tonks called him 'Cousin'. On the other…
I socked him in the stomach, "Bastard."
"Ooof!" Sirius exhaled. "T-Technically, you're the bastard here…"
"Shut up," I said shortly. "You abandoned me. Not just by going to Azkaban. That too but you had to have abandoned me years before then. Why'd I have to grow up in an orphanage? Where was my mother? Where were you, huh?"
"I-I deserved that," Sirius wheezed. "But I can explain if you'll let me!"
I looked at Tonks and saw her wincing. For me or for Sirius, I didn't know. I looked at Septima and saw calm acceptance and support. No matter what, she'd be there to help me pick up the pieces. I looked at Heather and saw her ready to sock one to Sirius as well. For some reason, that was what made me start to calm down.
I took a deep breath, "I'm listening."
" We are listening," Septima corrected, coming up behind me to rest her head on my shoulder with the sheet around her trailing behind.
"Right…" Sirius paused to catch his breath. "First off, you've got to understand something about my family. They sucked. Just about the worst family one could have the pleasure of being part of. Neither your mother nor I wanted you to be raised in that environment. We weren't even really together. You were just a happy, rebellious accident. But that doesn't mean you weren't wanted!
"And then you have to consider that the war was in full swing. I was on the front lines basically all the time and your mother would quickly come to be in the same position. It was no place to be raising a child.
"So we did the only thing we could think of. We stashed you someplace safe and anonymous and were going to come to get you when the war was over. We were only in our last year of Hogwarts at the time. So as you might expect, that plan quickly went up in flames."
"So all I was to you was something to dump and ignore until you could pick me up again at your own convenience?" That wasn't completely fair to Sirius but at the moment, I couldn't bring myself to rightly care.
Septima squeezed my shoulder lightly to chide and support me as Sirius sputtered out a denial, "W-What?! No! We may have been young and dumb but we never thought of you as something convenient!"
I sniffed, not completely convinced, "And yet, I still grew up in an orphanage."
"We didn't have another choice!" Sirius insisted. "I saw what a Pure-Blood family like mine does to a child. Hell, I lived it! I couldn't bear putting you through that. Putting you through a family that would have twisted you into something unrecognizable and sold you to the Dark Lord without a second thought!"
Something hot and angry coiled in my chest but before I could let it out, Septima spoke for me, "Surely there were other options. Friends? People you trusted or looked up to?"
"W-We couldn't…" Sirius averted his eyes in shame. "There was too much going on. We were already keeping you a secret. Your mother would have been killed if anyone found out. The family would have tried to abduct you. They would have done anything to ensure the next generation was 'raised right' after a 'Pure-Blood failure' like me. Hell, even the Dark Lord would have gotten involved to try and secure the Black fortune for the future."
Septima's reply was simple but suitably judgmental, "Be that as it may be, it still seems to me that you chose the worst of bad options."
Having Septima on my side helped loosen the tight coil of frustration in my chest. Years of neglect were still boiling to the surface but I knew I had Septima no matter what. She didn't care about the reveal of my hidden heritage. We were already committed to starting a new Pure-Blood line together anyway. Still, her unconditional support was soothing in a way I hadn't realized I needed until now.
"Uh…" Tonks caught everyone's attention. "I don't mean to play devil's advocate or anything. But based on my mom and her childhood stories, Sirius is probably right about what the rest of the Black family would do."
"Yeah!" Sirius nodded. "They cast Andromeda out for simply marrying a Muggle-born. For generations, the Black family has been the worst kind of Pure-Bloods. Literally, none of them were fit to be around children, let alone raising them. My own mother Crucio'd me for Merlin's sake! It's a miracle that my generation turned out the way it did."
A single sentence about Sirius' childhood silenced the room. The worst part was that Tonks didn't even seem surprised. Her mother probably had similar horror stories.
Eventually, though, I broke the silence with a simple question that had been bothering me since Sirius began his explanation and excuses.
"Why haven't you told me who my mother is?"
Sirius chuckled awkwardly, "Hehe… It's just a bit of an unwieldy reveal, is all. Especially since you were raised by Muggles. If you were raised around Pure-Bloods, you'd probably have an easier time accepting it. She… Well, you could say we had a close relationship our entire lives-…"
A loud hiss shocked Sirius into silence. We all looked and found a black cat practically glaring at us with purple eyes from atop my desk. Sirius startled at the sight, his lips zipping closed as tightly as possible.
"Is… Is that your cat?" He asked in a strained voice.
"Hmm, Bella? No, she's taken more of a liking to Luna than me. I'm sure she just wants to be included in our conversation," I said, walking over to pick up Bella. A part of me was thankful for the distraction. "Now… you were saying?"
Sirius' eyes kept darting strangely between me and Bella, "Uh… I think it's better if your mother makes that reveal herself… When you meet her, I mean!"
I wasn't happy with that answer but Sirius clammed up and refused to say more. Bella cuddled closer to me as I tried to glare him into submission. Sirius wouldn't be budged.
"So why now? Why risk revealing all of this now?" Tonks' question broke the stalemate.
Sirius was at least willing to answer that question, "Well, Heather told me about his current legal troubles. I thought this might help. Reveal Atlas is a Pure-Blood heir and he'll get much more meaningful support when Fudge inevitably pushes for an unfair trial.
"Also, he's basically inserted himself as Heather's guardian. I thought it was funny. Heather's Godfather and her Godfather's son both stake a claim on her guardianship. What a prank!"
He finished with a wince and an almost whisper, "Oh, uh, and I might be kind of, sort of… dying."
"You're what?!" Heather all but screeched.
"You know… dying," Sirius said sheepishly. "13 years in Azkaban won't be kind to anyone. Dementor overexposure, malnutrition, the works."
For some reason, Bella whined at his words as well. It was worryingly Human. And considering Padfoot was an Animagus… Oh, dear. Heather's next outburst stole my attention again and my suspicion was relegated to a corner of my mind for later.
Heather wasn't having Sirius' shit, "Oh, no you don't! You only get to die when I kill you! I'm going to do everything I can to make sure you live that long, you mutt!"
"I can't help but agree with Heather here," I added. "You've got too much to answer for to just up and die, 'father'."
Heather shot me a thankful look, "Good. There has to be something we can do together."
I smirked, "I think I see a visit to the V-E-T in Padfoot's future."
Sirius whimpered, "Don't even joke about that. Lily used to threaten me with the horrors of the vet all the time. Instead of memories, the Dementors sometimes made me dream of being neutered…"
"We've got to prove his innocence as well," Tonks added helpfully. "Be a bit hard to do that if he's dead."
Sirius looked surprised, "You believe me?"
"I think Bones would kill me if I didn't at least give you a shot," Tonks snorted.
"Is… Is there any way for me to contact her? Outside of a formal setting?" Sirius asked.
"I suppose I could pass along a message to just Amelia instead of Madam Bones…" Tonks suggested suspiciously. "Why though?"
Sirius smirked like a dog, "I imagine there's a non-zero chance I die to something during this exoneration process. I want at least one last night of pleasure before that happens. Amy seems like my best shot."
Tonks smirked right back at him, "Should I tell her that along with your message?"
Heather slapped him on the back of the head, "Again, you're not allowed to die, mutt. And show some respect to the woman who will be clearing your name."
"I am!" Sirius insisted. "I still remember that little thing she used to do with her tongue. I'm showing respect for that by requesting her as my 'last meal'."
I rolled my eyes, "Why are we trying to save his life again?"
The mangy mutt feigned injury, "Ah! Your words! They wound me. Mine own son! Oh, oh woe!"
Heather joined me, rolling her eyes at Sirius' theatrics as well, "Whatever. We'll have to bring Hermione in on this as well. I want to help but I feel like I'll just cock things up until we know what we're working with. We may actually have to take him to the vet. Who knows what problems his Animagus form has…"
"Mom's a healer," Tonks offered.
"And I'm more than willing to help with research and diagnosis as well," Septima added.
A seed of hope started to blossom in Sirius' eyes, "There's actually a chance for me, isn't there?"
"There just might be…"
IIIII
Much of the rest of the night was spent planning and getting everyone on the same page. Tonks would contact Madam Amelia Bones - Head of the DMLE - with everything she'd learned tonight. From Sirius' innocence to my true heritage, we weren't planning on keeping anything a secret from the woman who would likely end up as one of our most potent allies.
A vague plan was sketched out to wait until Fudge inevitably scheduled my trial before the Wizengamot. It was something Tonks practically promised to happen. Especially with the way my interview/interrogation ended. Someone (*cough* Fudge *cough*) would use it as an excuse to look deeper into my role in the World Cup Riot.
Once the trial happened, Tonks and Madam Bones would attempt to use it as a way for me to reveal my heritage and claim the Black seats on the Wizenmagot. From there I could order Sirius' case reopened on the grounds that he didn't have a trial and just sheer Pure-Blood privilege. The reveal of my heritage would also hopefully protect me somewhat from Fudge's grubby, overreaching political fingers.
In all, I couldn't say I was happy with the events of that night but I was content enough for now. Padfoot's claim of parentage was… acceptable, I guess? He didn't seem like a bad person, though it was clear he was heavily flawed and damaged. I would expect nothing less from someone who was currently dying thanks to 13 years in what had to be one of the worst prisons on Earth.
And while it put a whole new meal on my plate for me to work through, it also took something off of it that had been looming over my head since receiving the System.
Quest Completed: Heritage & Legacy Condition(s): Discover Your Heritage. Find Out Who Birthed You and Why They Left You in an Orphanage! P.S. They're Both Still Alive, Though One is a Bit Insane…
Rewards: Family Magic Discipline Unlocked
Black Blood Magic 1/100
If I had any doubts about Padfoot's claim, the Quest completion put them to rest. I still didn't know who my mother was. Sirius was still strangely silent on that subject, glancing at Luna's cat Bella every time it was brought up. But his reveal seemed to be enough for the System to deem the Quest's conditions fulfilled.
The Quest's reward was certainly interesting. Black Blood Magic… Blood Magic was often thought of as the darkest of the dark disciplines of magic. Books on the subject in Britain could only be found in private collections and the depths of the Department of Mysteries. But since it was Family Magic, in this case, the Ministry couldn't try to censor, punish, or otherwise control my access to it.
If there were a logical reason for why Pure-Bloods maintained their statuses and the unequal distribution of Wizarding society, it would always come back to Family Magicks. They were the only place where Pure-Bloods could claim a real, tangible advantage over Muggle-borns and Half-Bloods. And of course, that advantage was based on the work of the generations that came before and the founders of the families instead of anything the Pure-Bloods who claimed superiority now had actually done.
Family Magicks were almost always masterpieces of magic, research, and accumulated knowledge. Not all of them were unique or even better than something that could be found publicly though. And I would surprised if most Pure-Blood families had contributed to them in the last 200 years. Instead, they were content to leech off the work their ancestors did and claim they were better than Muggle-borns because of it.
Since politics, and especially 'noble' classes like the one that dominated Wizarding Britain, favored those who came first, Family Magicks were about as legally sacred as something could be. Theft of Family Magic wasn't just punished by death. The thieves were taken into the Department of Mysteries and never seen from again. I had my own suspicions about that though. Like the fact that a new Unspeakable always seemed to conveniently appear shortly after.
Still, Family Magicks were about as protected as possible by Wizarding society. Even more so than covens. Covens were protected by law but those laws were always 'leftovers' and 'relics from a less civilized age' that conveniently hadn't been stricken from the books. That didn't stop them from still existing, from what I could gather, but covens in the modern age were very much a private thing, kept that way to keep undesirables from getting any uppity ideas. I guess creating something new and potentially wonderful took a back seat to preserving power that already existed.
I asked Sirius about the Black Family Magic. He obviously wasn't comfortable with the subject. He acted even more shifty than when the topic of my mother was mentioned, though this time, he didn't keep glancing at Bella. But after I professed and explained my interest as something that could potentially help keep Heather safe in the future, he promised to see about retrieving the Family Grimoires. He was not eager to return to his childhood home to do so though.
Things returned to some semblance of normality after that. Heather took a well-deserved break from our training. Tonks stuck around, waiting for her boss to be able to meet us discreetly to assess Sirius' innocence for herself.
Sirius himself continued living in hiding, though we at least convinced him to stay in the Castle. Dumbledore already knew about his innocence after all. While we didn't receive explicit permission for Sirius to stay, I did 'inexplicably' find a dog bowl with Padfoot's name on it in my quarters. So I felt it was safe to say Dumbledore was aware of Sirius' presence.
I returned to my job, trying my best to ignore the near-constant feminine giggling and whispering that had begun to invade my lessons when my back was turned. Had I missed an important piece of news or gossip?
After one of the classes, I was left to clean up the classroom. Professor McGonagall begged off to grade the parchments that had been turned in by the students today. I was more than willing to pick up the slack for her. The classroom vacated as I went around vanishing the transfiguration materials we were working with today.
"Hiya, Teach~" A sultry voice made me realize that not all of the students had left the classroom with McGonagall's dismissal.
"Look, look, Lav~! we're all alone~" A peppy voice made me realize that I was outnumbered.
"Mmmm~" The first voice purred. "Perfect~"
"Lavender. Parvati," I greeted. "Can I help you two?"
The two girls who'd ambushed me were practically opposites and yet so similar at the same time. Lavender Brown was fair of skin and hair. She carried herself with a sensual, teasing posture, always ready to make her sexuality known even when it wasn't called for.
Parvati had brown skin and black hair. She was even more classically beautiful than her fairer best friend. She was also a font of unending energy. So positive and optimistic, she was impossible not to like at least somewhat.
"Oh, I think it's us that can help you, ~Professor~," Lavender said with a smirk, stalking toward me like a sensual predator.
Parvati followed, "Yeah! After all, who wouldn't want to go on a date with two hot, young coeds?"
I tried to let them down easy, "Girls, I'm flattered. Really. But what brought this on? Why now?"
Parvati cocked her head cutely, "You don't know?"
"I mean…" I began slowly. "I know you two have been trying to corner me like this for months now. But I don't know why you decided now was the time to finally make a real move. I thought you were just enjoying the chase. You know, playing around?"
Lavender laughed a full, melodious sound that came from her diaphragm, "Hahaha! You play hard to get pretty well, Teach. We didn't even know you were in on the game~"
Parvati giggled along with her friend, "Yeah, we thought you were just scared of lil~ ol'~ us~"
"I am," I admitted flatly. "You two would chew me up and spit me back out."
"But it'd be fun~" Parvati teased.
"I'm sure it would be. But I'd rather keep our relationship to where I still feel my legs each morning," I said. "The teasing is fine, I guess. But we really shouldn't take it much farther than that."
"Awww," Parvati pouted. "So you won't be our date to the Yule Ball?"
"The what?" I deadpanned, dread filling my gut for some reason.
Lavender giggled, "C'mon, Parv, he's obviously not going to break for us just yet. We'll get you eventually, Teach~"
They began to leave and I tried to shout after them, "Wait! The what?! That sounded important!"
My pleas for information fell upon deaf ears. Lavender and Parvati left the classroom, still giggling to themselves. If I didn't know better-… Oh, who was I kidding? Their not answering my question was definitely part of their teasing.
My sudden anxiety borne of the unknown event Lavender and Parvati were asking me to as a date subsided somewhat as I finished cleaning the classroom. Maybe they were just exceptions. Not many of my female students were as bold as those two. Still… 'Yule Ball' didn't inspire confidence in me.
I decided that there wasn't much for me to do other than to just go about my usual business though. That instantly turned out to be a mistake. I exited the classroom straight into another ambush.
"Take me to the Yule Ball, Professor Atlas!" An adorably faux-arrogant voice demanded.
I barely kept myself from facepalming, "Oh, Merlin…"
Astoria Greengrass, one of my younger students and a favorite at that, had been lying in wait for me. She stood with her hands on her hips and her head held a little too high. I had to give her props though. This stunt took a lot of courage for a second year.
"I know you like your woman to be on the younger side! You will not find someone better than me, Professor! So you shall be escorting me to the Yule Ball!" Astoria declared. It almost would have been intimidating if she wasn't so cute.
"Where'd you get the idea that I like my women younger?" I asked with a raised eyebrow. "You do know I'm currently dating Professor Septima, right? A woman who's a couple of good years my senior."
Astoria's face flushed but she didn't lose her stride, "Yes! But you've also taken Luna into your quarters! She assures me that you do not mind her youth and that you take her into your bed all the same."
I did facepalm at that, "Oh, Luna…"
"Well?!" Astoria tried to keep her energy and confidence up but I could tell she was starting to falter by the way she was fidgeting in place. "I am waiting for your confirmation!"
Once again, I tried to let the girl down easy, "Astoria… I'm afraid Luna - as always - exists as a special circumstance. I don't think I could in good conscious be your date to this 'Yule Ball'."
I saw her lip start to quiver slightly, "I'm not special…?"
I cursed myself viciously and tried to reassure her, "No! No, Astoria, that wasn't what I meant. It wouldn't be fair to you. You should be going with a boy you like. Not your Professor who, if we're being reasonable, should be going with his girlfriend."
Still, Astoria's lip quivered and I was worried the waterworks would start at any moment. Then, suddenly, a hand came down on top of her head in an almost textbook karate chop. I instantly recognized the assaulter as Astoria's older sister Daphne.
"Cut the act, Story," Daphne said, her tone the flat monotone it always was.
Astoria instantly transitioned from 'about to cry' to pouting, "Daaaa~ph~neeee ~ I almost had him!"
"You didn't," Daphne deadpanned.
"You don't know that!" Astoria shot back. "My big teary eyes always work on you and Father."
Instead of replying to her sister, Daphne turned and offered me a single piece of advice, "Run. She won't be the only one."
I nodded slowly, not quite believing her. I was thankful for the easy out. But surely, this who 'Ball' business couldn't be bad enough that I had to run. As I turned to leave, I saw Daphne levitate her sister by the scruff of her neck like a kitten as Astoria pouted with crossed arms and an exaggerated expression.
I walked away from that scene, somewhere between amusement and that same sense of dread from earlier. It would seem my instincts weren't quite up to snuff today though. I didn't even make it around the next corner before yet another female student of mine jumped out at me.
And when I say 'jumped out', I meant it literally. A sixth-year Gryffindor girl jumped out of a closed classroom door to try and stop me, "Hi, Professor! Funny running into you here!"
I froze for a moment before my survival instincts kicked in. Thankfully, they weren't as dull as my gut premonitions were today. I feinted left and took off to the right when the girl committed to trying to block my path. She laughed and gave chase. Damn Gryffindors…
And that was how I found myself running through the Castle, trying to avoid the seemingly never-ending tide of female students who wanted me to take them to this 'Yule Ball'. I still didn't even know what it was! I mean, I could infer it was a ball of some kind but none of my previous years as a Hogwarts student had included something like this.
"Professor," A prim and proper voice tried to get my attention as I ran past the seventh-year Ravenclaw responsible. "Would you happen to be busy this Winter Solstice? Perhaps I could interest you in a ritual or two?"
"I have I feeling I will be no matter what!" I called back as I bolted past, the sixth-year Gryffindor still hot on my heels.
The seventh-year Ravenclaw girl sniffed haughtily, "Very well. I shall not run after you like some sort of buffoon."
"Let's see if you're so stuck up when I catch him, Bird!" The Gryffindor girl laughed loudly.
I ran, ducking around corners and avoiding more and more girls who seemed to pop up out of nowhere. A Gryffindor here who joined the chase. Another Ravenclaw there extending a thought-provoking invitation to scholarly fun. Even a Slytherin beckoning me into the 'safety' of an empty classroom with bedroom eyes. I didn't make the mistake of trusting that offer either.
Just when my Gryffindor pursuers were beginning to tire, I came to an intersection within the Castle. At the same time, my mind just happened to be wondering where all the Hufflepuff girls were. Which was, of course, when they sprung their trap.
I saw the group of them - four in total - peeking around the corners of the intersection. The sight tickled some vague danger sense inside of me. In response, a quick flick of my wand sent an overpowered Banishing Charm at the stone floor below me and I jumped forward at the same time. I went absolutely flying through the intersection, coming up on the other side in a messy roll.
The Hufflepuff girls had tried to trigger their trap in time but were just a bit too late thanks to my impromptu banishing boost. It was, however, just in time to catch the Gryffindor girls who were happily chasing me. A bit of the stone floor seemed to peel back and a net sprung upward under the direction of the Hufflepuffs' magic, trapping the Gryffindors within.
A part of me couldn't help but stop, look back, and laugh. The Hufflepuffs stared at their unintended Gryffindor captives. The two Gryffindor girls stared back. No one said a word, too stunned to process until one of the Hufflepuffs broke the silence.
"You know… I don't know about you girls but I think we can still work with this."
"Agreed," Came the general consensus from the rest of the Hufflepuffs.
"Candy? Selina? Which one do you two want?"
"We'll take the sporty redhead. Can't go wrong with a buff tomboy girlfriend."
"Smart. I guess Sam and I will take the dumb but brave blonde then."
The two captured Gryffindors looked at each other, "What just happened?"
"I think we just got dates to the Ball."
Shaking my head, I began to walk away and leave the two girls to their 'unlucky' fate. As if finding out you suddenly had a double date with a quartet of Hufflepuffs was unlucky. Still, it gave me hope that the chase was over. I let my guard down with a sigh and was almost immediately pulled into a passing broom closet. At least this time, it was someone I knew.
Fleur tried to look down her nose at me. She failed considering the height advantage I held over her. Trapped in this enclosed space, she was pressed right up against me. I could feel the heat radiating off of her body and her softness pressed up against me. She would have smothered anyone else with her sheer presence but I was well aware of what Fleur was really like.
I sighed, "Haaa… Hello, Fleur. May I assume this is about this Yule Ball I keep hearing about?"
As haughty (read: French) as could be, Fleur nodded, "You may. As champion, I require a date to the Ball. And we cannot have you going with my innocent sister. Therefore! I am willing to make the ultimate sacrifice and allow you to escort me as my date!"
"Is that really such a good idea?" I asked.
"Wha-!" Fleur sputtered, obviously expecting me to agree immediately. "You should be honored! You will be going with the future Triwizard Champion! Rejoice, Fiend! For once I win this tournament, you may brag to your little friends how 'that woman once allowed me the pleasure of being her date'!"
I looked down at her, staring as her pride slowly began to falter into something much more nervous, "But is this what you want?"
"I-I don't see how that is relevant!" Fleur denied, pretending as if she hadn't immediately started blushing from my question. "I do not do this for your sake. N-Nor mine. This is solely to save my baby sister from your devilish clutches! Do not think any deeper on the subject. I command it!"
I hid a smirk and a chuckle, "I don't think you need to worry about that. I don't intend to take any student to this Ball. It wouldn't be proper."
"S-Since when do you care about what is proper!?" Fleur demanded, suddenly heated with Allure and standing on her toes to get in my face.
"Since this became an event apparently," I replied flatly. "I'm still a Professor. Questions will be asked if I attend the Ball with a student."
"But I am not even your student! And I am a champion. No one will question who I want to-… Allow! Who I allow to escort me." Fleur reasoned.
I was very careful to not allow any of my amusement to show on my face, "Still doesn't quite seem right."
"You are not right!" Fleur snapped. "Right in the head! Do you like playing with a girl's feelings? I knew you were a Devil incarnate but to stoop so low! H-How shameful!"
"Fleur…" I sighed. "I don't mean to play with your feelings. You are a beautiful woman. Any man would fight to take you to the Ball. I simply can't agree to this without first consulting the woman I'm actually dating. People seem to be forgetting that I am at least partially spoken for."
Fleur huffed, "Hmph! Very well. I am magnanimous enough to consider waiting for your reply. Consult this woman of yours. Surely, she is aware of your devilish ways so this will come as no surprise. You may continue to compliment my beauty and grace as compensation in the meantime."
I tried for a 'logical' compromise, "How about this? You go with someone you want to go with since, as you've said, that person is not me. And I'll go with my girlfriend. I'll be sure to save you as many dances as you wish to 'preserve' Gabrielle's purity."
"T-That-!" Fleur swallowed her next words, her pride not allowing her to reveal the truth behind her veiled proposition.
She continued through gritted teeth, "I see… T-This is… acceptable. So long as you do not go with Gabrielle either. Remember that this is for her sake, not mine. If you will spare her your beastly machinations, I suppose my work here is… done."
Fleur looked like someone had just stolen a delicious dessert from her. But I didn't feel all that bad. All she had to do was be honest with herself. I'm sure Septima wouldn't mind a third for the Ball all that much.
Still, Fleur's pride and delusion wouldn't let her say what she truly wanted to. She stuck her nose in the air and strode out of the broom closet, leaving me to shake my head at her back. Silly girl.
Chuckling to myself, I exited the broom closet as well. With yet another thing to talk to Septima about, I continued my journey to find her. Thankfully, I wasn't accosted again by the Castle's female student population. I found Septima in the expected place - her classroom - and let myself in, speaking before I'd even closed the door behind me.
"Septima, you would not believe the afternoon I've had. Not a moment of peace-…" I paused when I noticed that there was another woman in the room with Septima. "Oh, hello, Aurora. What brings you here?"
Aurora grinned at me like a predator but Septima was the one to reply, "Hello, dear. Wonderful news. I've managed to secure us a third for the Yule Ball."
I exhaled in resignation, "Of course you have."
When did my life become so complicated? I miss the simplicity of The Grind…
AN: Don't worry too much about the Bella plot point. It'll be resolved next chapter (along with some scenes for the other two Black sisters).
20: Black Blood
[CW: Incest]
"Thanks again for being so understanding about this," I said, seeing Septima off for the night at the door of my room.
Septima shook her head and nibbled her lower lip, "Unn, I know how important this is to you. Are you sure you want to do it alone though?"
We both glanced at the unsuspecting cat-shaped, black elephant in the room and I said, "Yeah… I have a feeling that it's for the best that this first meeting is just us."
Luna popped up between us, seemingly appearing out of thin air, "Psst! What are we whispering about? Is it about Bella?"
"It is, in fact, about Bella," I sighed. "Luna? How long have you known my estranged mother was hiding out with us as a cat Animagus?"
"Uh…" Luna froze like she'd been caught with her hand in the cookie jar (again). "Not even a whole month! And I was taking care of it! And her! I'm your Head Henchwoman so dealing with intruders and junk is my job. I didn't want to bother you with it…"
Luna's hurried denial made me sigh again, "It's okay, Luna. I'm not mad. I only started to suspect something last night. So long as you were careful and didn't immediately confront the potentially dangerous escaped criminal in hiding, I don't have a problem with how you chose to deal with this."
Having relaxed slightly at my first words, Luna froze guiltily again at my last sentence, "Uhhhhhh… Yes. I was very responsible and sensible and totally didn't confront mother-in-law while I was naked."
My voice filled with warning, "Luuuu~naaaaaa~?"
I felt like a chastising parent and Luna just whistled innocently. But she couldn't actually whistle so it just ended up with her blowing air through pursed lips and looking anywhere but me.
Eventually, I caved, "Fine. Since it seems you know my mother more than I do, do you have any suggestions for how I should go about this?"
Luna smiled brightly and tapped her chin as she mimed thinking for a moment, "Hmm, let's see… Oh, I know!"
She then cleared her throat and announced loudly, putting on an obvious act for a certain someone, "You'll be ~all alone~ tonight, Atlas? Won't you be lonely? Sounds like you could really use some ~motherly love~ to keep you company tonight. Surely, this is the perfect situation for someone to have you all to herself."
Bella perked up from where she was napping, paying keen attention to Luna's act.
"Laying on a little thick, aren't we?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.
Luna shushed me, "Shhh! I'm just laying out the bait. She doesn't suspect a thing!"
"That can't possibly be true," I deadpanned in response.
"Trust your Henchwoman, Atlas dear," Septima patted my shoulder gently.
"We'll see. If it doesn't, I'll just go with the direct route."
"I guess we're leaving for the night!" Luna announced. "I sure hope no one takes advantage of poor, delicious Atlas~!"
I rolled my eyes and tried to shoo them out faster. Septima chuckled, "Come along, Luna. Let's take advantage of this night ourselves. We sorely need some time for just us girls."
"Yay! Coven girl sleepover party!" Luna cheered as she and Septima finally left me alone in my quarters.
And then I found myself alone with my mother. My mother who was currently hiding in cat form and didn't know that I knew. Now that I found myself here, I wasn't sure how to proceed. Did I go with the direct method anyway or did I wait to see if Luna's little bait would bear fruit?
I puttered around for a moment or two before deciding that the direct route was as good as any. Slowly and hesitantly, I approached Bella who appeared to be staring off into the distance as if in a dreamy daze. I knelt before her and was about to address the woman inside the cat directly when my resolve faltered and completely collapsed.
This was much harder than I thought it would be. I knew my long-lost mother was sitting in front of me. But actually putting that suspicion into words suddenly seemed impossible. An irrational thought surfaced in my mind. What if I was wrong somehow? I was confident I wasn't but I simply couldn't put that worry to rest.
Instead of the direct route, I ended up going with Luna's trap, "Alright, girl, I'm going to sleep. Totally, uh… totally vulnerable sleep. Who knows what could happen if someone somehow appeared in my bed…"
A wicked gleam seemed to shine in Bella's eyes even though she was still a cat and I realized something. She was definitely not completely sensible and sane. Not after 13 years of Azkaban. Second-guessing myself into Luna's trap… may have been a mistake.
Still, I was committed now. There was nothing to do but see this through to the best of my ability. I went about my normal nightly rituals and lay down in my bed, inviting Bella up to join me. Knowing she was most likely an Animagus did make that invitation slightly awkward but I had a feeling that would be the least of my worries soon enough.
That sinking feeling only grew as I closed my eyes and pretended to go to sleep. Surely though, it wouldn't be that bad, right? Sirius was… well, normal wasn't a word I would use to describe him. But what were the odds my other parent was just as or even more clinically insane in her own way? Now, I just felt like I was tempting fate.
I forced the thought from my mind. I lay still on my back, already a red flag if anyone was looking for one considering I typically slept on my side. But my breathing was even and my expression was forcibly serene. It didn't take long for Bella to make her move.
It started with a weight on my bed where the false cat used to be. Then I felt the weight shift closer to me, depressing the bed as whatever was responsible moved. Then the giggling and heavy breathing started and for a moment, my heart was gripped by something primal.
Fear of the unknown crept into my mind, both of meeting my mother for the first time and of not being certain what was in bed with me. But I still didn't open my eyes to peek and give away my act. The giggles were husky and heavy like weights on my psyche in the strangest way. I felt my lower half stir to life as my body tried its best to prove that fear-boners were a real phenomenon. At least, that's what I hoped was happening. I barely even wanted to consider the fact that incest might have been coded into my very blood…
"My boy~… My beautiful baby boy~ All grown up without me~ So smart, so powerful, so ~perfect~," A strangely familiar voice purred.
"Maybe…? Just a taste?" The voice continued, shifting until it was right above my closed eyes. "Why shouldn't I? Everyone else has gotten a taste…"
"It's only fair," Bella seemed to reason with herself. "I… I can't tell him about me. It would break my heart to be rejected even a little bit like Sirius was. But… if I can't be with him always, I can just take a bit to keep me sated. He's a good boy. I'm sure he won't mind."
Well… This was quickly getting out of hand. The weight on the bed shifted and I felt something reach over me. Before I could react to that, my sleep pants were vanished right off my body. Bella obviously wasn't thinking clearly. How was she planning on putting them back on me so I wouldn't notice in the morning?
I heard her moan and felt the bed shudder beneath us as if she'd cum from the sight alone, "Oooooh~ So perfect~ I'm sorry, Atlas~ Mommy can't resist~"
The weight shifted again, this time to in between my legs. Hot air puffed across my skin in desperate, needy pants. Almost instantly, I felt myself spring to full erection in response. Trying to ignore how eager my body was, I slowly opened my eyes to stare down at Bella.
She was positioned between my legs, naked and surprisingly clean for an escaped convict. The month of living with me in hiding had been good for her. Her figure looked to be in the process of filling out once again, her skin was smooth, and her hair was messy but in a way that said it had been cleaned and tamed recently.
My manhood towered above her face and she stared up at it, entranced and eager for her 'taste'. I stared down at the scene presented to me, similarly entranced. I couldn't help myself. The woman who bore me was beautiful. I found I couldn't rightly think of her as my mother now that she was before my eyes. For my own sanity, at the very least. Something in my blood sang for me to claim her, to keep the line 'pure', and to tell my Muggle-raised sensibilities to sod off. I'd never sympathized with Pure-Bloods as much as in that moment, though I strangely suspected my sudden propensity for incest was something at least partially unique to my Black blood. Something dating back to the original Black Coven perhaps? That was bound to be a whole thing though and now certainly wasn't the time to be theorizing.
Swallowing that thought for later, I spoke, "Hello, Bella."
She moaned, "Oh no~ I even imagine him speaking to me. Mommy's sorry she's so broken, Atlas~ You deserve better~"
I cleared my throat and Bella naturally looked up at me past my straight-standing cock. She froze when our eyes met and I was treated to a movie's worth of emotion. Hope and shock and shame and a broken, all-consuming sort of love flashed through her eyes. I steadily held eye contact throughout it all.
"Hello, Bella," I repeated.
Bella replied shakily, her mind still trying to catch up with the reveal that I was awake, "H-Hello, A-Atlas…"
When it did catch up, Bella began to hyperventilate, "Oh, Hecate! He's awake! My baby boy is awake and he caught me trying to sate my broken desires with his unconscious body! Oh, Macha, Maeve, and Morgana! Mommy's so sorry, Atlas! Please, please, please don't hate me! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry-…"
I waited for her to stop and let me speak but Bella just kept rambling on and on, apologizing all the while for anything she could think of. She apologized for leaving me, for being absent all of my life, for letting herself trust her parents even a little bit, for being sold off in contract because of that misplaced trust, for everything she'd been made to do under that contract, for escaping from Azkaban, for hiding from me for a month, and so much in between. It honestly felt like she gave me her whole life story in apologies.
I tried to be patient. I truly did. But as she rambled and rambled, it quickly became clear that Bella was too wound up to listen to anything I had to say. She was like a tightly wrapped ball of anxiety, trauma, and obsession. And she was coming unwound all at once as the subject of her obsession confronted her unexpectedly.
At the same time, I was warring with myself inside. Like with Sirius, fresh hope and long-repressed frustration fought a pitched battle. Unlike with Sirius, uncontrollable, instinctive desire joined the battle on a third front.
Eventually and maybe inevitably, reason lost that battle, succumbing to its wounds alongside hope and frustration, and I gave in to my instincts.
Bella's rambling apologies continued, "A-And I'm sorry for not revealing myself when Sirius did. I was terrified that you might reject us… might reject me. I wouldn't be able to live with that! Please don't turn me away! I promise I'll do better! I promise I'll be a good mommy from now on-… Ghlurk~!"
It was clear she wouldn't stop until I took action. So I did. And since I wasn't thinking clearly, that action ended up playing into my Black desires dramatically. Before I could stop myself, my fingers threaded through Bella's wavy hair and I shoved her rambling lips down upon my throbbing cock.
"Fuuuuuck~…" I groaned as I was engulfed by slick heat. "Why did I do that…?"
Even with my cockhead lodged in her mouth, Bella's eyes lit up at the chance to be useful and apologize even more. She began trying to jabber an explanation out around the thick blockage between her lips.
"Haungh Hnouw! Unnugh 'ooour loooulg!"
"Don't speak with your mouth full, Mother," I chided.
She actually blushed, "Aaaimmm 'oowwy."
"Explanations can wait," I decided. "I've come this far already. No use backing out now. Might as well see my depravity through."
Bella briefly removed herself from my cock and gasped for air, "Gahah~! It's not your fault, My Baby. I'm sure the blame falls on my broken shoulders. You're such a perfectly good boy. No one could fault you for taking reparations from your terrible Witch of a mother."
The moment she was done speaking, Bella drove herself back down upon my shaft. Her self-deprecative, obsessive excuses gave me a brief moment of pause but it was quickly driven from my mind. She eagerly gagged herself, stuffing her mouth full of my meat and trying with all she was to extend her unending apologies in a physical way.
As fucked up as it was, Bella's blowjob felt like her trying to make up for years and years of neglect and abandonment. Which would have been fine, if not for, you know, the fact that she was my mother. Yet somehow, that 'little' fact just turned me on and pushed me further into degeneracy.
I could barely force myself to feel guilt or shame over my descent into vice and sin. I just lay back and let Bella - my absent mother - try to make up for every wrong she'd intentionally and unintentionally done in her life. It was a heady trip of a feeling. So wrong and so right at the same time, I couldn't find it in me to deny the instincts of my blood at the moment.
"Shlulp~! Gauuk~! Gauuk~! Shlulp~!" The sounds Bella was making would have made a pastor blush.
My groan added to the symphony of carnal noises, "Meeeeerlin, woman! You don't do anything by half, do you?"
Bella giggled, something insane and desperately joyous filling her eyes as she stared up at me. Like she was willing to do anything and everything for my approval. She instantly went about proving that thought, dipping her head low and taking as much of me as she could even as she gagged.
Flesh hugged flesh as she drove me past the back of her mouth and into her throat. A warm, wet sheathe of velvet swallowed around me. She gagged and gagged around my girth, trying to pull me deeper while she choked.
My nerves were set alight by the milking contractions of her throat. With each one, it felt like suction was trying to literally drag the seed from my balls. Tears welled up in her eyes and she still kept sucking. Drool dripped from her lips, pooling at the base of my cock as she lavished my shaft with devotion.
Every moment was another of slick, sloppy, sexual nirvana. My core tensed and my cock throbbed. Up and down, Bella's lips dragged along my cock, suckling at the head and going back down to engulf the base. Her tongue seemed to wrap all the way around me, somehow licking everywhere along my shaft even when I was buried deep in her throat.
She sucked me in deep and held me there, looking up and meeting my gaze with eyes full of need. Her throat squeezed me as if asking for my opinion of her oral skills. Validation, approval, love, forgiveness, something, Bella wanted anything she could get, especially when it came from me.
I didn't immediately give her anything. At least, not verbally. My body responded for me. I seized her head again, holding her in place even though she didn't try to move away. My hips bucked, my balls clenched, and I let loose into her stomach.
Pulsing, throbbing pleasure overtook my world. My vision flashed with spots. The first rope rocketed out of me as I drained myself inside Bella's throat. Then came the next and the next until my climax felt like it would never end.
Heat surged up my cock and into Bella. She simply hummed and closed her eyes, enjoying the fruits of her labor (in more ways than one).
When my orgasm did eventually stop, Bella slowly took me out of her mouth, eagerly sucking up the dregs as she did. She smiled up at me when she was done. Then the rambles started again.
"D-Did mommy do a good job, Atlas? I-I can do better! I swear! I won't let you down again! No matter what you want, I'll do it for you! I want to make things up to you. I want to make things right between us. Mommy loves you, Atlas. Please, please let me show it-… Ah~! W-What are you doing?!"
All of a sudden, our positions had changed. Bella was now lying on her back beneath me, still looking up at me with wide, crazy eyes. Despite her question, her hips were desperately trying to push up into mine. Her body clearly craved contact just as she craved approval.
"Shutting you up again," I rasped, my voice hoarse and rough from pleasure. "It's not time for us to talk yet. I'm still feeling rather… not myself. You're going to take responsibility for that, ' mother'."
"Oh! Of course! Anything for you, Atlas. Anything for my baby boy. Sate the cruel desires that have invaded your mind with my body, baby~ It's yours to use as is your birthright-… Oooooh~! A mating press~?!" Bella squeaked out the last question, having practically moaned the rest of her obsessive speech.
And it was. As arousing as it was, I'd grown tired of her simpering. Instead of humoring her as she offered herself up, I took hold of her ankles and pushed them up next to her ears. She lay there, basically bent in half and looking up at me with swirls of desperate desire in her eyes. Served up as if on a silver platter, her shapely legs framed her breasts and her pussy would have winked at me if it could.
My cock rested atop her pussy, hard as it had ever been, and coated with her spit and now femcum as well. Bella stared down at it with awe and reverence in her eyes. I felt her heartbeat quicken through our point of contact, racing so fast it was almost worrying.
She giggled, unhinged and happy beyond reason, "Heheheheheheh~! Yes, yes, yes! Mommy can be useful! Mommy doesn't have to be thrown away! Redeem me, baby boy! Ahhhhoooooh~! Claim me and erase my past~! Make me something worthy of your love, My Atlas~!"
"You have issues, Mother," I stated plainly, just a little bit unnerved. "We should probably get you a Mind Healer. Or two. Or three."
"You are my only salvation," Bella declared, uncaring of how that made her sound.
I shook my head, tabling that thought for later. Now certainly wasn't the time for a drawn-out discussion about trauma and mental illness. Though there was no denying how messed up we both were, considering I was currently just as much a party to this as Bella was. Maybe we could both use a Mind Healer.
Instead of thinking too hard about the prospect that I could have both mommy and daddy issues, I decided that there was a perfectly good distraction splayed out before me. I drew my hips back, aimed, and thrust myself back forward firmly. It must have been exactly what Bella wanted and needed because she came the moment I split her open all the way to her core.
"A-A-Ahhh~!" Bella's scream of utter ecstasy was breathy and stuttered as if my thrust had pushed the air from her lungs.
She clung to her legs like they were lifelines and her head fell back against the bed while her eyes rolled in their sockets. Her breath fluttered as I pulled out, only to catch again when I reversed course. It was as if her whole body was quivering around me, clenching tight to not let me go and yet still somehow releasing me so I could drive both of our pleasures higher.
"Squilsh~!" Our hips connected over and over again with a lewd sound.
Bella fervently welcomed me into her depths. She practically begged to be split in twain, clenching and relaxing around my girth as it speared in and out of her core. She gave herself up as if a tool to be used. As if she'd found her one true purpose in life and it was to slake her baby boy's 'cruel desires'.
My feet planted themselves on the bed and Bella's pretzel-like position was further enhanced. Her backside raised almost entirely off of the bed, allowing me access even deeper. My hips thrust downward. Every movement was spent slamming myself to a hilt inside her. Bella screamed herself hoarse, exclaiming her pleasure to the heavens.
"Yes! Use me for all I'm good for, Atlas! It's in your blood! Brigid, Oh Exalted One! The fruit of mine loins returns as is his birthright! So so so so so perfect~! I love you, I love you, I love you, I love-…"
The flames in my core raged even higher with her declaration. Blood and magic sang in harmony, swirling around and within us both. A primal growl, a feeling like nothing else I'd ever felt, rumbled in my chest. My hips moved as if they had a mind of their own. I couldn't stop myself if I wanted to and I certainly didn't. Stopping was currently the farthest thing from my mind.
Over and over again, we came together. As we did, the heights of heaven grew paradoxically closer and farther away. Bella reached orgasm as if climbing a staircase, each step wracking her body with pleasurable vibrations. I ascended right beside her, building and building to a monumental climax once we reached the top.
I buried myself deep. My whole body tensed. Bella let go of her legs to wrap them around me. She held me close almost as if she was cradling me. The dam finally broke. Seed and white-hot ecstasy flooded Bella's core.
"Yes~" Bella cooed. "That's mommy's good boy~ Her perfect boy~ Let it all out~ Reclaim what is rightfully yours~"
After the initial explosion of pleasure, my orgasm slowed to something almost soft. I didn't shoot ropes so much as it all flowed out of me, thick and hot to sizzle against Bella's inner walls like batter. Bella sighed contently, her eyes fluttering as her own orgasm rolled over her much like mine.
As our peaks faded, clouds overtook my mind. I could feel Bella's heartbeat, one I'd once shared, beating in time with mine once again. Her whole being hugged me as naturally as she breathed. Still, a sudden System notification cut through the afterglow.
New Coven Member Initiated Coven Members (4): Septima Vector, Luna Lovegood, Gabrielle Delacour, Bellatrix Black
10 to Black Blood Magic
Black Blood Magic 110=11/100
New Perk Unlocked
Brigid's Minor Ritual of Motherly Reclamation: 10 to Healing, 10 to Crafting, the Ability to Control Your Fertility
Healing 2510=35/100, Crafting 310=13/100
Almost immediately, I used the perk to ensure my seed would not take hold inside Bella's womb. For the briefest of moments, I felt conflicted about that decision. But even whatever primal, blood-driven instincts that currently influenced me couldn't completely win out over common good sense.
"Oh, thank Merlin!" I sighed as a weight I didn't even realize I'd been bearing was lifted from my shoulders. "Er, or thank Brigid, I guess…"
In a daze, Bella hadn't even noticed my exclamation. I flexed myself inside her to get her attention. She jumped a bit and looked at me. I could have sworn I saw her eyes flash into violet hearts for an instant. Then she saw the reproach in my gaze and turned sheepish.
"Mother… Did you invoke a ritual without my consent?" I asked.
Bella's expression froze and her panicked rambling returned, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! It's tradition and I wanted you to have Brigid's blessing and her approval and I still shouldn't have done it and I'm sorry and-… !"
I sighed. This again? Well, for a brief moment, she'd been silent and resembled something that could vaguely be considered sanity. I guess I'd just have to repeat what had worked until it was permanent. My cock instantly throbbed back to full hardness at that idea. Oh, woe… woe is me…
IIIII
Andromeda Tonks was a woman of routine and familiarity. Her youth had been more than wild and rebellious enough to last a lifetime. As such, she was rather easier to surprise than she thought she was. Often all it took to change her plans for the day drastically was for someone to drop by unannounced.
"Nymphadora? To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Moooommmmmmm~" Tonks groaned as daughters tended to do.
"I gave you that name and I'm allowed to use it," Andromeda firmly asserted. "Now, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at work?"
"That kind of is why I'm here," Tonks admitted sheepishly.
Before she could explain further, a familiar, female voice called out through the house, "Andromeda? Are you there?"
"Amelia? Is that you?" Andromeda called back.
She turned to her daughter without waiting for a response. Andromeda knew Amelia's voice when she heard it, "Come in while I go see what she's flooing about. Let's hope I don't hear about how you've been fired shamefully and unceremoniously."
Even with her back turned Andromeda could hear the eye-roll in her daughter's reply, "C'mon, Mom, I didn't get fired."
Still, she made her way to the Floo to find Amelia's head made of green flames, "What's this about, Amelia? Nymphadora just arrived as well."
"May I come through?" Amelia requested. "I've been led to believe Tonks - the younger - has something important to share with us."
"Yes, yes, by all means, come through," Andromeda agreed, stepping back to give her space.
Amelia Bones stepped through the Floo, coming to an almost effortless stop in the middle of the Tonks' living room. She nodded to her old friend Andromeda and her most promising young Auror - simply known as Tonks.
"Now, will you explain yourself, Nymphadora?" Andromeda asked, only then noticing that her daughter wasn't alone. "Is that a dog? I hope you realize that I won't let you keep it here."
Tonks grinned sheepishly at the large shaggy black dog at her side, "No, he's actually what I wanted to show you two. Padfoot?"
"Why do I know that name?" Andromeda muttered to herself.
Before she could search her memories, the dog changed, standing upright and losing its fur to reveal an almost equally shaggy Human. The man smirked unrepentantly at Amelia and Andromeda, spreading his arms wide, "Surprise?"
Amelia's wand was instantly out and she soon had the man restrained on his knees, "I suppose the urgency and contents of your report were valid after all, Tonks."
"Oof! Lovely to see you too, Amelia," Sirius joked. "Shouldn't we ease back into the more risky play though? We haven't even established a safe word."
"Your mother's hairy wand," Amelia deadpanned.
Sirius' smile grew hollow and with a shudder, he said, "I see you remember our old one. I suppose that will be good enough."
"W-What is happening?" Andromeda asked shakily, a hand over her heart to slow its rapid beating.
"Cousin Siri wants to turn himself in," Tonks explained. "Says he can prove his innocence."
"That's where this comes in," Amelia added, holding up a bottle of Veritaserum.
"I consent to your questioning," Sirius agreed, surprisingly 'serious' for once. "Merlin knows you won't believe me any other way."
"Wait, Amelia," Andromeda stopped the Head Auror from administering the Veritaserum. "May I ask a few questions as well? Off the record, of course?"
Amelia slowly nodded, "You… may. Why though?"
"He's utterly ruined my routine and all of my plans for the day. I think a little revenge is in order. Perhaps something to the order of what he and Bella did to me and Narcissa's undergarments during his Third Year? I've never been able to get either of them to admit to it."
Amelia nodded, a devious light shining in her eyes, "That seems fair. Perhaps I should ask him a few questions off the record as well. I certainly recall having a few suspicions about his relationship with Sophia Greengrass while we were dating…"
Sirius paled dramatically, "Meep!"
IIIII
Narcissa Malfoy nee Black sighed, once more thankful and resentful of her late husband's death. Oh, she didn't resent whoever was responsible for his 'murder' as the Minister was calling it. In her mind, Lucius had it coming. It was his braindead idea to try and relive his 'glory days'. He simply paid the price for that folly.
No, what - or who - she resented was Lucius himself for leaving so much work on her plate. As she'd quickly figured out after his timely death, Lucius Malfoy was a terrible steward for House Malfoy. Debts, grudges, and promises of support - all poorly documented - were left for Narcissa to work through and around.
He'd also somehow managed to squander much of the sizeable Malfoy fortune left to him by his father. That fortune was just about the only reason Narcissa married Lucius in the first place. Surely, he was not a terrible husband. Cold and distant, but not abusive or too controlling on the whole.
Narcissa had been left to her own devices for the most part. After Draco was born to shoulder the weight of heir, Narcissa hadn't slept in the same bed as her late husband. While she couldn't pursue carnal satisfaction outside of the bounds of their matrimony for fear of the hit to their reputations, Narcissa had managed. She found comfort in other things now. She certainly missed the ecstasy of a good shared 'little death' but rising through the ranks of Pure-Blood society was nearly as satisfying in some ways.
There was no lost love between Narcissa and Lucius. But though her son was a mostly disappointing, Gryffindor-headed fool, she did love Draco something fierce. And with his father now removed from the picture, perhaps there was something to be done about saving him from that man's poor, nouveau-rich influence.
Those were thoughts for the Yule break and the summer though. For now, Narcissa was consumed with salvaging the ramshackle construction that Lucius called the House of Malfoy. Pledging himself to the former Dark Lord was just about the worst decision Lucius had ever made, even discounting how it eventually got him killed.
The Dark Lord was the reason the Malfoy fortune was as baren as it was these days. He was also most likely the reason for Lucius' distance when it came to all things sexual if the stories told among the Dark in backrooms were to be believed. The creative uses for the Cruciatus curse she'd heard there still made Narcissa shudder in disgust.
And nowadays, other rumors filled those backrooms. Rumors that were much more terrifying and concerning than even the Dark Lord's sadistic sexuality. Rumors of his return.
Of course, Lucius was aware of this. He might have even been instrumental in planning it. And he'd had a plan that would make him able to continue supporting and gain even more favor with the Dark Lord once he returned. He would simply claim the fortune and lordship of House Black…
'As if it would ever be that simple,' Narcissa scoffed.
For one, Sirius was still alive. He may have been disgraced, but when did the Blacks ever care about the opinion of the Ministry? As far as Black Magic was concerned, Sirius was still Lord Black. Lucius shrugged this fact off, taken by the idea that Draco was Sirius' heir.
Narcissa might have assumed that was true as well… if she hadn't met that enigma of a Professor at the Quidditch World Cup. Atlas White. He had Bella's eyes and Sirius' smirk. How scandalous… and yet, also so characteristic of both of them, Narcissa thought.
Lucius died before he could even consider changing his plans, leaving all of his notes for Narcissa to find afterward. Also, leaving her with a mess of a House. One that Lucius assumed he could fix if he only had the Dark Lord at his back (literally) and the Black Fortune at his fingers. He couldn't fix a flipped-over turtle.
Narcissa stamped and sealed another envelope, marking it to be sent whenever her owl returned. She was supposed to be 'in mourning'. That was what she'd told the Prophet. Instead, her days had been consumed with even more politicking than usual and letters upon letters of negotiations and refusals.
Lucius had apparently rallied the entire Dark Faction around him, banking on his assumption that the Black Lordship would soon be under his control. As a result, the Dark Houses assumed Narcissa would be continuing his 'good' work. This was the 17th attempt at getting her to play ball and the fourth from Lord Nott alone.
Sighing yet again, Narcissa took out another sheet of parchment and resumed this endless Grind.
"Dear Lord Greengrass,
"Unfortunately, I am not able to set any dates in stone regarding the betrothal contract between House Greengrass and House Black. Though I am acting as regent for House Black at the moment, I do not have the power or authority to 'push things ahead' as it were. As such, I ask for your patience. I am sure this situation will resolve itself in the near future-…"
AN: I actually quite like the idea of the Blacks being mainly responsible for Pure-Blood inbreeding. Just hear me out.
They're an old family, one of the oldest in most canon/fanons. They're obviously decently fertile because even after generations of inbreeding, there were, what? 5 kids in Sirius' generation from two sets of parents? They must have married into basically every other Pure-Blood family at some point.
So if, say, the original Black Coven did a bit of ancient magic that promoted incest and 'keeping the line pure', it would naturally propagate into the rest of the Wizarding World.
Also, on a slightly related note, there's a non-zero chance that magic does something to fix the inbreeding problem. If it didn't, even Pure-Bloods would have realized something was wrong with incest/inbreeding at this point. Since they're still marrying/fucking their cousins (in this story at the very least), I feel like it's safe to assume there's more to the story than just inbreeding being as bad for Wizards as it is for Muggles.
21: Is Hogwarts Safe? (Rhetorical)
Murderer at Hogwarts! Are Our Children Safe?!
As Reported by Rita Skeeter
Do you know who is teaching your children? Do you know who you are entrusting their safety to? Is there more going on behind the scenes at Hogwarts than we realize? Collusion? Corruption? Child endangerment?
Worry not, gentle Wizards and noble Witches! This reporter has the scoop!
Some may be aware but for those who aren't, there are two new Professors at Hogwarts this year. The DADA Professor is a retired Auror by the name of Alastor Moody. A more qualified man for the job, this Reporter cannot think of!
The other new Professor is something of a novelty. An Assistant Professor! A position that hasn't been seen filled in over a decade! As far as this Reporter has gathered, Atlas White is a Muggle-born Wizard with a solid schooling record and several NEWTs to his name. As a fresh Hogwarts graduate, he is now working as an Assistant Professor while he pursues his Masteries.
According to the whispers within the Castle, Professor White is seemingly liked and well-respected by students and staff alike. His teaching style is innovative and promising, capturing admiration for how he engages with the students. For the more gossip-inclined readers among us, he appears to be in a relationship with his former Professor and current peer, Professor Septima Vector. A story of love developing through shared knowledge! How romantic~!
But that's not all, folks! Professor White has also been dragged into the drama surrounding the Triwizard Tournament. More specifically, the fourth champion and Girl-Who-Lived, Heather Potter! He's taken her as his ward to offer her the protection and support she desperately needs to survive this tournament, citing the fact that, as the fourth champion, she is not technically associated with Hogwarts. Favoritism perhaps, but more than fair in this Reporter's opinion!
He is likely responsible for training young Heather Potter to do the daring, magic-defying stunts we all witnessed from her during the First Task! A wonderful display of skill and valor that still has Wizards and Witches scrambling to explain how she did it! Respect where respect is due. This Reporter tips her cap to Professor Atlas White and young Heather Potter!
Here's where the story gets muddled and concerning, however, my good readers! After the First Task, Professor White was seen being questioned by a good and dutiful Auror about his role in the events of this summer's Cup Riot! This Reporter is proud to bring you this explosive, exciting, and exclusive development in the situation thanks to the hard work of an undisclosed source!
When asked why he was attending the World Cup, Professor White replied, "I was tasked with chaperoning Heather Potter and her friend Hermione Granger by Headmaster Dumbledore."
An interesting reason and one that adds more weight to any accusations of favoritism that may loom in the Professor's future.
However! That's not all! Professor White was seated in the Top Box of the stadium with the Minister and his guests when the Minister's wand went missing. *Gasp!* Surely, that is just a coincidence, right? Yet he 'claimed' there was no premeditation behind his seating arrangements and even had an excuse prepared for what happened to Minister Fudge's wand.
This Reporter would like to take a brief moment to reassure her readers that she is not levying any accusations. This Reporter simply reports the facts and leaves it up to her readers to form their own opinions!
Back to the interview! The Auror then tried to discern what Professor White did during the Riot itself. The Professor mentioned getting up to - and I quote - "a bit of trouble" and "a few pranks". What pranks could he possibly have been referring to and do we really want some troublemaker as a role model for our children?
The good Professor claimed that Death Eaters were responsible for the chaos of the Riot, even claiming that he witnessed Unforgivables being used! The Auror, of course, corrected him as he should. This seemed to be a mistake on our public servant's part! After being corrected, Professor White stopped cooperating altogether.
The Auror and Professor went back and forth unproductively for a few moments. Then the Auror moved to take the Professor into custody for further questioning. And then something shocking!
The Auror's stunning spell seemed to splash harmlessly off of Professor Atlas. It was as if he wasn't affected at all! And it doesn't even end there! Another Auror came out of nowhere to stun the first.
According to this second Auror, Madam Amelia Bones - the Head of the DMLE - worries about foul play when concerning Professor White! Who are his enemies? Who would try to silence a simple Assistant Professor? Why would they need to? And to what ends will they go to achieve their goals?
As a result of this interview and short confrontation, Professor White has been put under an Auror's guard. Expect a trial in the near future! Professor White will have to prove his innocence regarding the Cup Riot and the deaths of several upstanding Pure-Blood Lords! This Reporter will do her best to keep the public posted on these concerning events as they develop!
In other news, Hogwarts will soon be hosting a fourth, unexpected Task for the Triwizard Tournament! A wonderfully ironic turn of events, if you ask this Reporter. A surprise fourth champion and a surprise fourth task to go along with her! The Yule Ball shall be held on the Winter Solstice. Stay tuned for first-hand reporting of anything and everything interesting for those who can't attend in person…
IIIII
"How the hell does she even know about all of this?" I asked, mostly to myself.
"Perhaps she is her undisclosed source. As in she was listening in on your interview somehow," Septima theorized.
"But how? There wasn't a single other person-… I swear to magic…" I stopped myself as realization struck me.
"You had an idea of how she listened?"
"What is it with people in my life and being Animagus?!" I raged without raging. "That's the only feasible way she could have been listening. If she was under an invisibility cloak or disillusionment, I'm sure Tonks would have caught her. She must have a small, unsuspecting Animagus form."
Septima furrowed her brows as she thought, "That makes… a concerning amount of sense. It also marks the beginning of an equally concerning trend in your life as you said. Your father, your mother, and now a reporter who wishes to drag your name through the dirt."
"Who's next?" I asked rhetorically. "Is Luna suddenly going to turn into a Snorkack and get into even more trouble than usual?"
I looked up from the Prophet and around the Great Hall. My eyes landed on Luna at the Ravenclaw table. She waved cheerfully at me when she caught my gaze, thankfully ignorant of me and Septima's conversation. I didn't want to give her any ideas. I waved back, smiling as if I hadn't just invoked something terribly troublesome in my future.
Looking around the rest of the Great Hall, I could see that the whispers and rumors had already started. I wasn't expecting anything less though. I was suddenly on the front page of the Prophet with an eye-catching title like "Murderer at Hogwarts".
I'd have to start filtering my mail somehow. I could imagine a couple of the more rash parents taking Skeeter's reporting and running with it. Still, I couldn't help but wonder what I'd done to get on her bad side. She'd definitely presented her information with a slant against me. Surely, this wasn't because I stopped her from interviewing me and Heather after the First Task, right?
Though, maybe there could be a silver lining here. Maybe it would cut down on the number of female students who tried to court me, especially when it came to the Yule Ball. I'd been able to fend them off so far by citing the fact that I was their Professor and that I was going with Septima and Aurora. But that didn't stop them from continuing to try. I was still fielding at least one proposal a day.
With that silver lining in mind, I looked back over the Great Hall and all the students sitting there. Yeah… that wasn't happening. Everywhere I looked, girls were giggling to each other, writing on parchment - strangely enough -, and glancing up at me. Even more so than usual. And joining the usual suspects like Lavender and Parvati were just about every Dark-leaning female student in the Castle. Even the ones from the visiting schools - Durmstrang in particular.
Who knew girls would crush on an older, authority figure with a hint of danger to them? I certainly couldn't have predicted this as an outcome of being accused of murder. Girls like bad boys? My mother says I'm a very good boy, thank you very much!
Heh, it felt surprisingly good to be able to casually reference my mother now that she wasn't so absent in my life. She was still an absolute nutter but we were working on that. Even just spending time with Luna, Septima, and me seemed to help her quite a bit.
Nursing her back to sanity and health would be a long-term project. So while Bella was doing better, I didn't trust her to leave my room, and not just because she was a very wanted woman. We would have to see about expanding her socialization circle soon though. I'd just gotten my parents back and already it felt like I was parenting them more than the other way around. And unlike Sirius, I didn't think it would be an easy thing to prove her innocence, mainly because she was only technically innocent - on the grounds that she wasn't in control of her actions.
Then there was the phenomenon I'd cautiously dubbed Azkaban Syndrome that both Sirius and Bella were suffering from. According to Andromeda - Tonks' mother whom Sirius went to visit the other day -, Sirius was certainly dying. It was a slow, insidious thing, born of years of unending torture at the ghastly hands of Dementors. One that could take years to come to fruition. Which meant we had plenty of time to search for a cure. I don't think Heather would ever forgive me if I let her Godfather die. I wouldn't forgive myself either.
"Hmmm…" Septima hummed. "Yes. No. No. No. Maybe. Merlin, no!"
"What are you doing?" I asked in amusement, dragged back to the present by her odd words.
"Scouting for the coven," Septima explained nonchalantly.
I chuckled, "You minx. You make it sound like we're offering them jobs. Don't we have our hands full enough already?"
"Possibly," Septima allowed. "I am just keeping our options open. Perhaps we should see about including some foreign blood as well."
"We already have Gabrielle," I pointed out.
Septima nodded, "Yes, and a Veela is a good start but we can do better. I have at least three equations for the optimal coven set-up and I won't have them going to waste. Look here-…"
I shook my head fondly as Septima conjured a bit of parchment and began writing out a lengthy equation. Of course, she would have min-maxed her ideal relationship with Arithmancy. I didn't have the heart to tell her that things like this had to happen naturally. While we could go around recruiting, we would end up with something that looked more like a company than a coven.
Still, I paid attention as Septima plotted out every quality and condition she considered an advantage to have in the coven. From varying blood statuses to magical inclinations and prior commitments. She'd thought about this relationship way too much. That was charming in its own way though.
I only moved to interrupt her after noticing a bit of parchment on my plate that hadn't been there a moment before, "Hold on, Septima… Huh, it seems Albus wishes to speak with me in his office. Hopefully, he has something else he wants to talk about and the Prophet article hasn't already become an issue…"
"I… see," Septima frowned, a bit disappointed.
"Why don't you go find Hermione while I do this?" I suggested. "If you make it out to be a lesson, I imagine you can regale her with your coven equations until dinner."
She perked up, "A wonderful idea! And I can work on getting through her silly Muggle-raised ideas of what a relationship should be. She is one of the top recruits on my list, after all."
"You do that, dear," I said, patting her head lightly.
She pouted at me but it didn't take away from her excitement. Soon enough, she was making her way toward the Gryffindor table and commandeering Hermione for her nefarious, math-related purposes. Heather followed as well, ignorant of what they were getting themselves into.
Chuckling, I finished up my breakfast and got up to make my way to Dumbledore's office. Tonks joined me soon after I left the Great Hall, having taken to disguising herself as a student to guard me when I was in the Castle's public spaces.
"You two have a very interesting relationship," She commented, falling into step next to me as her features shifted back to her usual look.
I sighed, "I wish you wouldn't stick listening charms on us, Tonks."
She shrugged, "Security necessities."
I scoffed but changed the subject, "Think this morning's Prophet will have an effect on anything?"
"Possibly. I wouldn't open any mail from now on if I were you. Or at least, wait until I check it. And the trial will probably be moved up."
"Business as usual though?"
"Pretty much."
We fell into a comfortable silence for the rest of the journey to the Headmaster's office. It had been surprisingly easy to incorporate Tonks into my routine. She could be surprisingly unobtrusive for someone who usually sported pink hair. When we reached the Headmaster's gargoyle, I said the provided password and we let ourselves up.
"Ah, Atlas, Miss Tonks," Dumbledore greeted. "Thank you for joining me so quickly."
"It was no issue, Albus," I replied. "What's up?"
Dumbledore smiled genially, "I simply wanted to offer my advice for dealing with the fire you've come under this morning. Dealing with public opinion can be such a stressful affair. I wouldn't want you to worry yourself too much."
"Yeah," I sighed. "I don't know how Heather deals with this constantly."
"Quite," Dumbledore agreed. "She is in an especially awkward situation there seeing as she cannot 'hit back', per se, as well as others might."
His words gave me a moment of pause and an idea, "Hit back…? It's not perfect but there is another source of information and news in Wizarding Britain. And I just so happen to be rather close to the daughter of its publisher…"
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as if he'd led me exactly where he wanted, "I'm sure Miss Lovegood would be quite eager to tell your side of the story. And young Heather has enough stories to keep Xenophilius busy for the rest of the year. While limited in scope, The Quibbler's audience is rather devoted. Swaying them to your side could be quite the coup in the court of public opinion."
"It's something to think about for sure," I considered. "What do you think, Tonks?"
She shrugged, "Can't hurt. Fight fire with fire and all that. Although… I don't know if Madam Bones will approve of you calling that much attention to yourself before the trial. Sets a bad example for operational security."
"Skeeter and the Prophet did it first."
Tonks sighed, "I guess I can't argue with that. Maybe just try not to mention Fudge being behind this all before the trial is over with then?"
Dumbledore chuckled, "But that's the best part, my dear. Xenophilius will jump at the chance to report on yet another Ministry conspiracy and it won't attract any undue attention. He's on a different conspiracy kick every week these days. Meanwhile, those with the ability to read between the lines will be able to discern the truth of Atlas' situation."
"I'll talk to Luna about making an interview appointment with her father. There are some other things I should really talk to him about as well…" I suppressed a shudder at that. I was not looking forward to telling Luna's father that I'd all but adopted her.
Amusement twinkled in Dumbledore's eyes, "I'm sure old Xeno will understand. If I recall, his relationship with Luna's mother was somewhat similar. Less of a 'coven-adoption' angle but he could be quite the viciously protective fellow when they were younger. And of course, Seline was just as blessed as our Luna."
"If you have stories about her mother and father when they were young, you should really tell her," I asserted firmly.
Dumbledore's expression softened, "Yes… Yes, I think I will."
There was a momentary silence as Dumbledore seemed to exist in the past just as much as in the present. Tonks eventually broke the silence with a snort, "Hell, you probably have stories about our parents as well. Everyone's really. With how many people were lost in the last war, it might be a good idea to make yourself and your stories available for the students."
Dumbledore's smile could have lit up the room, "That, Miss Tonks, is a splendid idea. I'm sure I could justify taking a little bit of time off my duties to simply spend time with the students in such a nostalgic and wholesome way."
He chuckled softly, "Why, the stories I have about both of your parents could certainly entertain a generation."
I nodded, accepting his words at face value before the implication behind them hit me like a ton of bricks, "… You know who my parents are."
At least he had the decency to look sheepish, "I do… While your father mostly interacted with Minerva until he graduated and joined a little group I was running, I was rather fond of your mother. I was instrumental in securing your anonymity during the early days of the war. When the news about her marriage contract came out, I searched tirelessly for a way to break it. Watching her fall into the darkness thanks to the control of that contract is something I still consider a personal failing. I'm… I'm sorry, Atlas."
I was too shocked by this revelation to feel much else at the moment, "Maybe you should be telling her that yourself, Albus."
"Haaa… Yes, I suppose I am much too old to be hiding from my failings."
Once again, we fell into silence. I was too busy trying to process this information to think about anything else. Dumbledore was surely lingering on past mistakes. Tonks must have felt like a third wheel in the worst of ways.
Eventually, Dumbledore removed his glasses to clean with a wave of a weary hand and moved the subject of the conversation along to something else, "You've given me much to think about. Both of you. In return, I would like to leave you with an issue I've been having. I believe I am too close to the problem to accurately see the truth.
"Tell me, Atlas, what is your opinion of our latest DADA Professor?"
I blinked, not expecting the conversation to go in this direction, "He's… fine? I haven't really given him much thought. He seems to know his stuff from the few times I've taught alongside him. A bit direct and crude in his delivery though. But I guess that's to be expected from someone without a background in children's education. Why do you ask?"
"Something about him seems off these days. It vexes me and I cannot figure out why," Dumbledore said, furrowing his brow in frustration. "Alastor and I are old friends. We worked together extensively during the last war. Yet, some of the little habits I'd barely noticed from him seem to have disappeared all of a sudden. It's to the point that I almost believe I'm imagining the difference."
Tonks cut in, shrugging, "I can't say I've noticed much different about the old man. He was just my Auror mentor so I can't claim to know him as well as you. But he seems about normal. Maybe a little more paranoid than usual - which is saying something for Moody - but he was attacked in his home at the beginning of the school year."
Dumbledore nodded, "That's why I'm seeking the perspective of someone who is more removed from the situation. Someone without a prior relationship with Alastor may notice something we take for granted or dismiss out of familiarity."
"I couldn't say," I admitted before following up with a suggestion. "But I think you are going about this the wrong way. I wouldn't know Moody's habits to tell you if they were off or odd. Instead, I think you should be consulting others with prior relationships with him specifically. You'll still get additional perspectives but they will be able to more accurately identify anything out of the norm."
Shaking his head self-deprecatively, Dumbledore said, "Yes, I suppose it was rather silly to ask your opinion on a topic like this. I feel like I've hit a wall with this problem but your advice is sound. I'll try asking Minerva and Severus the same question. Perhaps they will have noticed something that I didn't and I, something that they didn't. Thank you, Atlas."
"Happy to help. Now, if you'll excuse us, I have to get to class."
"Of course, of course," Dumbledore dismissed me. "Though, perhaps the next time you see your mother, you can tell her that an old man wishes to speak with her again?"
Still conflicted by that revelation, I paused, "… I'll see what I can do."
With that, Tonks and I left the Headmaster's office to go about our day. I was scheduled to help Professor McGonagall with Fifth Year Transfiguration lessons and we made it just in time to not be counted late. Though late as a Professor may as well have been subjective, Professor McGonagall didn't see it that way.
My mind lingered on other things throughout that lesson and the ones that followed. Dumbledore knew about my ignoble origins and he had known about them for the entirety of my life. I couldn't really blame him for not telling me sooner. There was no doubt in my mind that I wouldn't have believed him.
That revelation did put some things into perspective though. Especially some of his comments in my initial interview for the Assistant Professor position. He knew he'd see me in the Wizengamot because he knew I was secretly a Black, even when I didn't know that myself.
It was a monumental lie of omission on his part. But one that I could understand in a way. There were some things you just didn't bring up until the moment was right and you had to. It's not like he could just come out while I was still a student and say "Hey, your mother and father are both criminals and murderers. And they're probably not as guilty as everyone thinks they are. Also, they're related. Congrats on being an illegitimate, criminal, incest baby." Well… he could have. But that didn't really fit his personality as I'd come to know him. Dumbledore could be surprisingly mischievous but he wasn't malicious.
In the downtime between thoughts about my parents and the relationships they cultivated before their lives fell apart, my mind returned to Dumbledore's concern about Professor Moody. Every interaction with the man was replayed in my mind, now put through a fine comb as I tried to see the oddities that Dumbledore unconsciously noticed. Like I thought though, it was a mostly useless endeavor for me. I simply didn't know the man well enough to do more than catalog his most obvious habits.
This almost-fugue of other thoughts continued throughout the day. Thankfully, most of my classes put me in an assisting role so I could simply coast. I'm sure the other Professors noticed that I was preoccupied because they didn't ask too much of me. It took until dinner that evening for something to pull me out of my thoughts.
The thing that roused me wasn't unique. In fact, you could almost say it was routine. Draco Malfoy was a young man I had mixed feelings of. On one hand, he was a very talented student and Wizard, often competing for second place in his year (Hermione unsurprisingly took first more often than not). On the other, he was a thorn in Heather's side and I didn't much like the way he continued to constantly bother my ward.
And this evening was no different. He strode up to the Gryffindor table at dinner, bold as brass and without an ounce of Slytherin cunning. The staff took notice of this, of course. I even saw Professor Snape struggling to keep from physically facepalming in irritation. Still, we all waited to see how this would play out. The young Malfoy usually trod the line between bullying and not and his punishment (if any) had to be appropriate.
"Potter," Draco declared a pompous 'greeting'.
"Malfoy," Heather greeted back nonchalantly, barely looking up from where she was building her plate for dinner.
Looking down his nose at her, Draco said, "I don't suppose you've found a date to the Yule Ball?"
That made Heather pause, "Draco…? Are you about to ask me out? If you are, you should know that the answer is 'no' and I would like to know just what is going through your head for you to even consider that I would say yes."
The firm rejection flustered Draco, "W-What?! No! I'm here to mock you! Mock! Why would I want to go with the Half-Blood golden girl anyway?!"
"I don't know, Draco. Maybe you should be asking yourself that question."
Naturally, this interaction had attracted attention. Not just from the Gryffindor table but the rest of the Houses as well. Amusement and exasperation from the students mirrored the reaction from the staff. Smirks and whispers could be found at every House table and even among the visiting schools. Money grudgingly exchanged hands from Professor Snape to Professor McGonagall. Still, it seemed that this clash between Heather and Draco would be ultimately harmless.
Draco scoffed, trying to play off the rejection like it meant nothing to him, "Whatever. You still don't have a date. And champions are required to take one. So I'll just sit back and laugh as you scramble for one at the last second."
Heather shrugged, "I have a date. It's just not a romantic one. Hermione and I are going together. We've already cleared it with Professor McGonagall. The one we both wanted to go with is already taken for the night."
"Late, Potter? How does it feel to not get everything you want all the time?"
"If you think things always go my way and that I get whatever I want, you don't know me at all, Draco," Heather deadpanned.
That seemed to shut Draco up and Heather returned her attention to her plate to take a bite of her food. Everyone's attention began to drift away from them and the normal flow of dinner resumed. Or, at least, it should have. Barely five minutes later, disaster struck.
It started with a cough. Nothing unusual or even worth acknowledging really. Then another. And another that sounded like a cross between a cough and a choke. The sounds of asphyxiation began to attract attention. Then the retching began and Heather collapsed out of her seat.
Shock fell over the Great Hall as the Girl-Who-Lived choked and dry-heaved in front of everyone. Panic didn't even get a chance to step in. I'd already hopped the staff table and was by Heather's side in moments. The school's Healer - Poppy Pomfrey - wasn't far behind.
Not being able to do anything was torture but I didn't want to take any chances with a qualified Healer only seconds away. Hermione joined me on her knees beside Heather. Heather coughed and choked as if she was trying to expel her stomach through her mouth.
Madam Pomfrey instantly went to work, commenting with the calm exasperation of a professional as she did, "Merlin, Miss Potter. It's always something with you."
I recognized a couple of her spells. One cleared her airway. Another froze her diaphragm. Yet another was a specialized healing spell that vanished the contents of Heather's stomach without harming her by vanishing everything.
Under Madam Pomfrey's care, Heather almost immediately stopped coughing and choking. She lay there, tired and partially immobilized by her seizure, and Madam Pomfrey soon had her fit as a fiddle. Only once she was clearly safe did the healing Matron try to diagnose the cause of all of this.
She spoke aloud as she did, "Hmm, not a blockage. Not a fit or a true seizure. Not a-… Good Lord, Heather! What did you swallow?!"
"J-Just dinner," Heather rasped in a hoarse voice.
"What did you find, Poppy?" I asked, my voice hard and almost demanding.
"She's just about been poisoned. I can hardly even recognize what the poison is supposed to be though," She explained, practically gaping at the output of her diagnostic spell as she did.
Thankfully, an expert on poisons and potions soon made himself known. Dumbledore and Professor Snape were the next two people to appear at our side.
"Severus? If you would," Dumbledore requested with a veiled order.
Snape sighed, "Duty calls."
He cast the same spell that Madam Pomfrey did, humming to himself, "Well, that is almost criminal."
At the expectant looks he received, Snape continued, "Amortentia, I believe. But the culprit messed up the creation process so much that it is entirely toxic. This work wouldn't even receive a Troll."
Hermione reacted first, gasping, "Someone tried to love potion Heather?!"
"Indeed. Perhaps it would be a good idea to employ various detection spells from now on. Now that this has happened, I am honestly surprised it is the first time."
My expression must have been murderous, "Yeah, she won't be touching any food or drink without it being checked at least twice. I'll teach her the necessary spells but I'll do it myself if I have to."
"W-Who-… *cough* did it…?" Heather asked.
"We can't say," Madam Pomfrey shook her head sadly.
"But I'll be damn sure to find out," I added, the assertion backed by steel and fury.
"They have to still be nearby, right? No one's left the Great Hall yet?" Hermione whispered, suddenly conscious of the fact that everyone was watching us.
"Who do you have in mind?"
"Draco…?" Hermione said, not quite sure of her accusation but just throwing it out there. "He did just come to mock Heather about not having a date. What if he used it as a distraction to have the potion slipped into her food?"
Snape scoffed, "Do not let your little schoolyard feud cloud your mind with bias. Despite his seeming failure at employing the cunning of a Slytherin, my Godson is not foolish or brash enough to attempt Line Theft. Also, if he even brewed something as poor quality as that attempted Amortentia, I would see him disowned."
"Perhaps we should take this conversation elsewhere?" Dumbledore suggested, making the rest of us take notice that every student nearby was leaning toward us to eavesdrop.
Madam Pomfrey agreed, "That would be for the best. I want to put Miss Potter under observation for the rest of the night in case her symptoms return."
"Oh, joy…" Heather croaked.
"Atlas? As Heather's temporary guardian, I would like you to go with her. I think I will be making a statement about this event," Dumbledore requested. He was smiling but the expression died when it reached his eyes.
A couple of students physically recoiled when he turned that expression to address the Great Hall, "This is a terrible addition to our evening. For those who were not close enough to eavesdrop, another attempt has been made on Heather Potter's life. And not just murder, possibly attempted Line Theft as well-…"
The rest of us exited the Great Hall as gasps of shock filled it. Madam Pomfrey led the way while Hermione and I helped support Heather. Tonks resumed her duty as my shadow as well, having stuck close through the chaos in her student disguise.
"Line Theft?" Hermione asked Tonks as we walked.
Tonks' face could have been carved from stone, "Yeah, it's probably worse than the attempted murder for a lot of Pure-Bloods. Since it was Amortentia, a case can be made that whoever did the poisoning was trying to get Heather to fall in love with them so they could take over House Potter."
"House Potter? Is that what all those letters from Gringotts are about?" Heather wondered aloud. "Huh, didn't think it was that big a deal. I just thought it was like car insurance or something. They've been trying to reach Vernon about his extended warranty for ages now."
"Heather, have you been ignoring your mail?!" For some reason, that thought set Hermione off. I think she was just trying to find something to channel her fear and frustration into.
Heather shrugged, "It's all just account statements. Nothing urgent."
"Still…"
"We can deal with that together at some point," I offered. "Lord knows I'll have to set my accounts straight with all the revelations as of late. And maybe your parents left you something in their vaults."
"Yeah?" Heather grew noticeably more excited with that possibility. "Yeah! When can we go?"
"Not tonight. That's for sure," Madam Pomfrey cut in.
"I'll see about getting permission for us to visit the Alley," I promised.
Heather's thankful smile was enough of a reward for me already. It was good to see her smile despite the events of tonight. It meant, despite how terrified and angry I was inside. Despite how much I wanted to find the person who did this and simply vent and punish them. Despite how scary it was to see my student, my ward, my friend almost struck down at an ordinary dinner like it was nothing. Despite everything, I could try to smile too.
IIIII
Later that night, two identical ghosts of the redheaded variety crept through the Gryffindor Fourth Year dorms. They stopped at a very specific bed with a very specific snoring inhabitant and directed their attention to the trunk associated with both. They had it open in seconds like magic.
The redheaded 'ghosts' whispered to each other as they searched the trunk, "I do very much hope you're mistaken, brother."
"As do I, brother. But just to be sure."
"It does seem to have his name written all over it."
"In green ink, no less."
"Let's just hope he's not too far gone."
"He's always been too far gone. Let's just hope the rest of the family won't be dragged down with him."
The pair fell silent as they unearthed something worse than what they'd feared from the clutter within the trunk. A poorly crafted doll stared back at them with vivid green eyes beneath black hair. The resemblance was obvious and though unfinished, the implication behind the doll was deeply concerning.
"Where'd he even learn about-…"
"I don't want to know."
"I don't think mom's howlers are going to be enough to set our unfortunate brother straight."
"Think we should call in the cavalry?"
The pair looked at each other and nodded in sync, "Dad…"
AN: Just a quick note on the Moody situation. Dumbledore doesn't suspect an imposter or anything like that yet. He thinks that something is wrong but he suspects something more like depression or psychosis or even just more paranoia than normal.
Barty Crouch Jnr is canonically a damn good actor. He has to be to not be found out instantly by Dumbledore. So while Dumbledore suspects something, he's come to the wrong conclusion.
As he says, he's too close to the issue. At the moment, he's just confiding in his young friends (Atlas and Tonks) for a different perspective than his own. The real kicker would come if Snape started paying attention to how often Imposter Moody takes a pull from that pesky flask of his.
Really though, this is just the start of 'the Hunt of Imposter Moody'. It's the setup and foreshadowing for the last act of the story. Plenty of stuff will happen between now and then but I wanted to establish this suspicion so that it sits in the back of Atlas' mind. Think of it as a slow-burn detective story in the background. Except not really because I'm pants at writing mysteries (especially when everyone already knows the twist like in this case).
22: Criminal Tomfoolery
November 30th. That was the date set for my trial. Not even a full week after I was first 'interviewed', it was obvious that someone (*cough* Fudge *cough*) wanted to speed this process along.
It also meant I had just about two days to prepare my defense. Not like it would matter all that much. My jury would be composed almost entirely of Pure-Bloods and they'd be trying to convict me not because they thought I was particularly guilty, but because they didn't think I was one of them and that made me easy to blame. The only thing that would matter to them would be the damnable reveal of my damnable heritage.
It was an infuriating issue of societal corruption and prejudice but one I could only take advantage of at the moment. Andromeda had been kind enough to offer up her husband's services for the trial. He was a solicitor and even though he'd never met me, he was willing to defend me simply because his wife asked. Edward Tonks seemed a good man from his letters. I hated to drag him into Fudge's crosshairs with me.
Edward advised me that the best thing I could do for myself during the trial was keep my cool. Fudge and Co would want me to rise to their bait. They'd try and push me until I made a scene so they could add additional charges or even see me convicted on the spot. My job was to do the opposite of what they expected. To that end, I spent most of the two days leading up to the trial rounding out the Disciplines I thought would be useful.
Increases of the Past Month
Body: 335=38/100
Mind: 424=46/100
Soul: 356=41/100
Social
7 to Speech, 8 to Persuasion, 6 to Perception, 5 to Teaching, 6 to Notoriety, 4 to Influence, 2 to Seduction, 3 to Willpower
Speech 307=37/100, Persuasion 228=30/100, Perception 226=28/100, Teaching 425=47/100, Notoriety 96=15/100, Influence 94=13/100, Seduction 462=48/100, Willpower 393=42
Magic
2 to Magic Theory, 2 to Wanded Magic, 1 to Charms, 1 to DADA, 6 to Wandless Magic, 5 to Occlumency
Magic Theory 622=64/100, Wanded Magic 532=55/100, Charms 511=52/100, DADA 511=52/100, Wandless Magic 276=33/100, Occlumency 335=38/100
Creation
5 to Ritual Magic, 5 to Wards, 3 to Enchanting
Ritual Magic 305=35/100, Wards 305=35/100, Enchanting 303=33/100
Combat
8 to Tactics
Tactics 328=40
The increases this past month were half thanks to training Heather and half thanks to my daily routine as a teacher and student of the Grind. The System seemed to like me being the center of so much (mostly female) attention, which went straight into increasing my Social Skills. But I was also still putting in time to research and practice new Charms, Rituals, and Tactics (among other Disciplines) whenever I could spare a moment.
The days leading up to the trial passed way too fast. I spent some of that time with Heather and Hermione. I spent some with Tonks, going over what I should expect from a trial in front of the Wizengamot. I spent some with Luna, Septima, and my recently reconnected mother. But I found myself spending most of my time just meditating - a different form of Grind - so that I wouldn't end up spilling a Pure-Blood's pure blood.
IIIII
Only the day after Heather was poisoned in what the Castle was now calling Britain's poorest attempt at Line Theft, excitement once again returned to the Great Hall. It seemed that it never left these days. The Weasley twins and their invention of a Wizarding On-Parchment forum were just about the only thing keeping the students of the Castle running with how much gossip flowed through magical ink.
Somehow the Castle's staff still hadn't found out about WWO but it was only a matter of time. It was quickly becoming something the students held sacred. Like Quidditch. Or which broom closets were conveniently never checked. Nothing beat having cheap access to all of the gossip of Hogwarts and her visiting schools though.
Seeing the success of their invention, the Weasley twins were already planning on expansion. The WWO would be a cornerstone of their future joke shop. It would be the thing that made them Wizarding millionaires.
Their first expansion to their invention, their key cash-cow product, would capitalize on the buzz and excitement surrounding their newest Assistant Professor's upcoming trial. Some Muggle-born friends helped them with the inspiration and Fred and George completely implemented the idea after vigorously studying the visual components of the Marauder's Map and a Wizarding camera they had on hand. Hogwarts would soon know about the events of Professor Atlas' trial before the Daily Prophet did.
The excitement that visited the Hogwarts Great Hall the morning after Heather's poisoning wasn't related to WWO but it certainly made its appearance on the various charmed parchments around the Castle afterward.
Breakfast was just about finished and most students were preparing to leave for their scheduled classes. Stragglers filtered in irregularly, grabbing a bit of toast or fruit to keep them tided over until lunch since they'd missed breakfast. For one of those stragglers, however, missing a meal was sacrilege of the highest order.
Ronald Bilius Weasley woke up late as always. He ran out of his dorm and down to the Great Hall, still an utter mess from waking up. Once he arrived, he wasted no time piling a plate high with food and digging in like a starving animal. People gave him the same distance they would a starving animal as well, knowing better than to let a stray, misplaced hand potentially get caught in the devouring crossfire. Seemingly nothing would stop Ronald Bilius Weasley until he'd eaten his fill.
That Hogwarts adage was tested soon after though. Not by something reasonable like the possibility of being late to class. But by a storm of parental fury descending upon the Great Hall. Those who knew the Weasley family would have expected that fury to be maternal. It was not.
The doors to the Great Hall swung open with a thunderous bang, startling everyone who wasn't trying to stuff their face with the ferocity of a wolverine. Through the now-open doors strode an incarnation of redheaded rage. Ever so slightly portly and with a face as red as his head, most who knew the sudden intruder could barely recognize him. Arthur Weasley was on a warpath, storming up to his youngest son without detour or distraction.
"Arthur, what a pleasant surprise," Dumbledore greeted from the staff table. "What brings you to Hogwarts unannounced, my friend?"
Arthur Weasley's reply was curt and tense but not disrespectful, "Family business, Albus. I would appreciate it if you would stay out of it for now."
No other explanation was given because no other explanation was needed. Dumbledore nodded sadly, understanding and motioning that he would not interfere. Based on Arthur's countenance, there were only two possible outcomes to this in Albus' mind for the second youngest Weasley. Death. Or Dishonor.
Arthur's answer set Pure-Bloods murmuring and whispering. The phrase 'Family business' had certain implications to it that couldn't be ignored. Arthur wasn't here as a Ministry employee or even a father. He was here as Lord Weasley with all of the weight and power a Pure-Blood Lord - even one with such a fallen standing as House Weasley - could bring to bear. And he was here to deal with those under his banner like a king dealt with deserters.
Somehow, throughout this all, Ron Weasley barely looked up from his food to acknowledge his Lord Father. He all but ignored the Lord of his household in favor of the fleeting chance of a continued meal. The other Pure-Blood students were baffled, astounded really, by the disrespect the second youngest Weasley was currently showing. Even the Muggle-born students in the room were slightly scandalized by the lack of reaction from Ronald Bilius Weasley.
The cold, almost distant quality of Arthur's voice as he spoke sent eerie chills down Pure-Blood spines, "Come, Ronald. We have some… things to talk about… as a family."
Ronald Bilius Weasley was seemingly ignorant of the danger he was in, "You mean I get to skip classes? Wicked! Just a mo, Dad. Lemme finish eating."
"Now, Ronald."
"'Ust ah mou-!" The second youngest Weasley responded through stuffed cheeks.
Arthur's patience would not be tested at the moment though. His hand shot out like a whip, seizing the ear of his youngest son and twisting something fierce. Ron Weasley cried out, spewing food and making a general mess of his plate. Arthur bodily pulled Ron up by his ear, nearly tearing it off in the process. It was all Ron could do to submit to the sudden movement.
Magic and rage swirled around Arthur Weasley. It was a concerning sight to see from an adult Wizard and a Pure-Blood Lord no less. He dragged Ron behind him, disregarding the way the younger Weasley squirmed and screamed in pain. As he did, Arthur's other hand went to his belt.
Pure-Blood and Muggle-born alike winced at that development. Arthur's belt whipped from around his waist. It wound tight around Arthur's free fist to dangle menacingly at his side. The clink of the buckle momentarily silenced Ron and an expression of utter terror overtook his face before his screams of pain were replaced by pleas for mercy.
As they exited the Great Hall, the doors silently swung shut behind them like magic. The remaining inhabitants of the Great Hall were left reeling. They might have been used to the boisterous dynamics of the Weasley family but no one was prepared for the patriarch to storm the Castle in search of his youngest son. It was more shocking than a thousand Howlers from Molly Weasley.
Slowly and shakily, normalcy and routine returned to the Great Hall. Students looked to Dumbledore for guidance on how they should be reacting. He calmly buttered a bit of toast, not even acknowledging what had just happened as reality. Taking that indifference as a cue, the students went about their business as usual. Ronald Bilius Weasley would not return to Hogwarts Castle and the Castle's gossip was left guessing as to the reason why…
IIIII
Narcissa Black-Malfoy (she'd officially reclaimed her maiden name when she took up temporary regency of House Black) twiddled her fingers impotently. There was not much she could do at the moment other than wait for a reply.
Upon seeing the article in the Prophet about her potential nephew, Narcissa hadn't panicked. Panic was beneath her. But she did start to make plans. Plans for preserving her House and bloodline in the face of this political persecution.
Anyone with half a brain could tell that the Minister was missing his pocket-stuffing, Pure-Blood moneybag. With Lucius out of the picture, Fudge's chances for re-election grew more tenuous. There was no doubt in Narcissa's mind that he was already reaching out to 'like-minded members of society' to secure another steady stream of 'funding'.
In the meantime though, Fudge was lashing out. He was trying to find someone to blame for Lucius' death (along with several other Pure-Blood Lords), his part in the Cup Riot, and his sudden lack of appropriate bribes. Unfortunately, his sights for that blame seemed to be set on Atlas White.
Narcissa's concern for Atlas was not entirely out of the goodness of her heart. Almost nothing she did nowadays was. But she was 90% sure that he was her nephew by blood. That he was the true Black Heir and the future of her dying birth House. And that was enough for Narcissa to consider giving him her aid where she could.
She sent him a letter. One offering him the support of House Black and herself in showing him the ropes of Pure-Blood society. If, on the off chance, Atlas was not secretly Bella's son, the letter would be easy enough to dismiss as a concerned citizen offering polite assistance. If, as she suspected, he was… then Narcissa would be doing her duty as House Regent and couldn't be censured for lack of action.
But until he replied, she could do nothing-…
"Dobby?" Narcissa asked in surprise as her former House Elf popped into the room.
Dobby just glared at her, not saying a word. He produced an envelope and placed it on the desk in front of her. Before Narcissa could say anything more, Dobby popped out of the room again. She was left more than a little confused with only the delivered letter as an explanation. After cautiously checking it for charms and hexes, Narcissa opened the letter and read.
"Hi, Cissy! I saw you sent a letter to my dear perfect baby boy! Unfortunately, Atlas is preoccupied with trial preparations at the moment. But he said I could reply for him! So I am! And I just wanted to say…
"If you ever try to steal my baby boy from me again by offering to 'teach him the ropes'… I will cut you, Cissy. I will cut you so deep that you will bear the scars for the rest of your short miserable life.
"Anyway! Love you! We should catch up now that I've broken that damned marriage contract! I've been dying to introduce my dear sisters to my perfect baby boy!
"All of my love and kisses, Bella."
Shaky hands put the letter back down. Good Merlin… Though she was more obsessive and possessive and everything in between when it came to her son, that was certainly Bella. Narcissa would have to change some of her plans now that her suspicions had been confirmed and she knew Bella had reunited with Atlas. Maybe even bring Andromeda in on this. As the oldest of the three of them, she always did have a way of wrangling Narcissa and Bella. It seemed that the Black sisters would be having a reunion soon enough…
IIIII
The Quibbler
Join Us For a Confidential Look Inside the Fight Against Operation Titanfall
[Transcript of Interview Between Agent X and Informant Titan. As Recorded by Junior Operative Plum]
Agent X (X): Thank you for joining me today, Informant Titan.
Informant Titan (T): Wha-? Informant Titan?
X: Did you not want this interview to stay anonymous for the security of your operation?
T (exasperated): _ (Junior Operative Plum), what did you tell him?
X: Strike that name from the record!
Junior Operative Plum (P): On it! Please cooperate, Informant Titan. This is for your own safety.
T:… Fine. It's a pleasure to be here. Thank you for having me-…
X: The codename I currently answer to is Agent X.
T: Of course. Thank you for having me, Agent X.
X: Very good. Now, I shall waste no more time with pleasantries! Tell me, Titan… Do you believe the current leading theory that Sirius Black has long since been replaced by an imposter? And that the man the Ministry is really looking for is none other than- *dramatic pause* -Stubby Boardman?!
T: I could not confidently speak here or there on the subject. Sirius Black's actions after the summer of '81 certainly don't sound like him though. I don't think the idea that he is an 'imposter' or that he didn't do what he's accused of or even that we simply don't have the whole story should be instantly dismissed.
X: I see… You've passed the first test, Titan.
T: Test?
X: Yes. It can't be easy to not lie while keeping your confidentiality. The fact that you can acknowledge the truth at all is a miracle! You truly are the skilled agent that Junior Operative Plum told me about.
T: I'm… glad to have proven myself… Agent X.
X: Your second test, if you so choose to accept it, is simple. How many legs does the elusive Crumple-Horned Snorkack have?
T: Does the horn count?
X: Wonderful! A simply masterful answer, Titan! You deflected from the dangerous truth that the Ministry doesn't want you to know and yet still asked a question to make our audience think more on the subject! Those are the types of questions that will eventually reveal the truth!
T:… I must say, Agent X, I am impressed by your thorough testing. Shall we get to the main topic of this interview now that you've assured yourself of my skill and discretion?
X: Yes, of course. Thank you for humoring an old paranoid agent, Titan. Your public identity was recently in the papers, was it not?
T: Yes, though isn't this interview supposed to be anonymous?
X: Don't worry. Your name won't be printed once throughout this article.
T: People will still-… *sigh* Yes, my public identity was recently in the news.
X: Difficulties with the law, correct? I can certainly understand running into those in our line of work.
T:… We don't do remotely the same thing, Xe-… Agent X.
X: Not our public identities, Titan! Our real jobs… The things we do in the shadows…
T:… Ah, how silly of me. I suppose I've been, uh, undercover for too long.
X: I perfectly understand. Now, back to the question. Difficulties with the law?
T: You could say that. Certain people within the Ministry seem to have it out for me. Of course, others within the Ministry have helped but this pressure seems to come from the top.
X: The top, you say? Could this have something to do with the Rotfang conspiracy?!
T: Unfortunately, I can neither confirm nor deny that supposition.
X: What about the Goblin-Meat-Pie-Conspiracy?
T: Remind me of that one again?
X: My paper-… er, agency… My agency's theory is that Minister Fudge is having his enemies within the Goblin nation removed from the picture and baked into meat pies! I've personally gathered oodles of evidence. Oodles, I tell you!
T: Well… I did say the pressure comes from the top…
X: *Gasp* You think your situation is the result of a personal grudge from the Minister?
T: I wouldn't put it past him.
X: Extraordinary! Ah, not for you, of course, Titan. My condolences. But for our readers!
T: It is a rather remarkable story.
X: Do you have any plans to deal with this top-down persecution? Should we expect a sudden and mysterious death in the Minister's future?
T: No. At least… (glances at P) not yet.
X: But you do have a plan?
T: Of course. I will be fighting these charges the legal way. I've already acquired a solicitor. It wouldn't do to reveal too much about my skillset, you understand? And I must set a good example. For the youth. It's all very calculated and coordinated. I firmly believe everything will work out.
X: So Operation Titanfall will fail?
T: Operation what? Is that what you're calling it?
X: It fits, doesn't it?
T: I suppose it does. Yes, Operation Titanfall will fail. Those responsible won't know what hit them.
X: Very good. That should help put our readers at ease.
T: Will that be all?
X: About Operation Titanfall, yes. But since I have you here, will you allow me to satisfy a few more curiosities? Agent to agent?
T: By all means. I owe… Junior Operative Plum… that much at least.
X: Splendid. Now… I've recently been experiencing a very itchy scalp. Do you think it could be lice or merely dandruff? Would you recommend I switch shampoo? Start using conditioner? Tell me, Titan, how do you achieve your luscious locks?
T: *Sigh* I suppose I brought this on myself. Come here. Let me show you a few family spells my previously absent father recently showed me-…
IIIII
"Is that all we can charge him with? There has to be more!" Cornelius Fudge demanded, slamming his fist on his desk in anger.
"Of course, Cornelius," Dolores Umbridge simpered. "There's always something more we can pin on him. I'm sure the 'good' Professor will give us a reason to hold him in Contempt of Court."
"Yes… I'm sure he will," Fudge said consideringly. "Cornered animals always tend to lash out, don't they?"
"How appropriate, Cornelius," Umbridge tittered.
"Shame we can't get anything more out of this."
"Yes, quite a shame. But he is just a Mudblood, Cornelius. It's not as if he has any properties or money that we could, h-hem, 'confiscate' for the good of the Ministry."
The reminder seemed to set Fudge off again, "Damn Mudblood! He doesn't even have the decency to line our pockets!"
Umbridge reminded him of another unfortunate 'reality', "And to think he had the absolute gall to disrupt our perfect society so much. Even to the point of murdering good, upstanding citizens!"
Fudge sighed, "It's too bad Lucius isn't here to see this. He would have loved giving the boy his comeuppance."
"Indeed. Yet another of the Mudblood's terrible crimes."
"Err…" Fudge paused for a moment. "Are we sure we can pin that on him?"
"Quite sure, Cornelius," Umbridge reassured. "I've found and 'found' plenty of evidence that he was the person responsible for the Riot itself, stealing your wand, and murdering four Pure-Blood Lords."
"But will it stand up to close scrutiny? After his disastrous interview, we already know Bones is willing to give him a fair shake," Fudge pressed.
Umbridge sneered, "Do not worry about the traitorous Madam Bones, Cornelius. She will pay for her betrayal as well. To think she could even think of going against your orders! Due process?! Such a disgrace to proper society, that one."
Her vehement reassurance seemed to relax Fudge somewhat, "Y-Yes, too right, Dolores. I shall trust your work."
"As you should," Umbridge nodded matter-of-factly.
"So we're all set? For the trial? Have we leaked the list of charges to the Dark Faction? If they know the boy is responsible for the deaths of many of their own, they'll jump to support his conviction."
"Yes, yes, Cornelius," Umbridge waved dismissively. "The good Lord Nott has promised his support. He seems to be positioned to take over Lucius' place in our good society."
"Very good," Fudge's smile was one of great relief "Sebastion has always struck me as a man who understood the lengths that must be reached to keep society running. He's not as wealthy as Lucius was but he should work well enough as a quick patch while we wait for widowed Narcissa to come out of mourning."
Umbridge tutted, shaking her head sadly, "For a woman of such good breeding to be widowed so young… We simply must nail this Mudblood to the wall, Cornelius. For Narcissa and for Lucius."
"If we do, there's still a good chance I-… I mean, we-… I mean, the Ministry can get our hands on the vaunted Malfoy fortune!" Fudge rubbed his hands together, only just stopping himself from cackling.
Umbridge's smile was just as greedy, "I think this calls for a celebration, Cornelius!"
Fudge sighed, obviously conflicted and looking forward to this as much as he wasn't, "… Fine. You know the drill. The bag's in my top drawer. Face the wall. Hike up that hideous pink skirt. And try not to moan too much. It kills this whole thing for me."
IIIII
1 to Occlumency
Occlumency 381=39/100
'Well,' I told myself. 'One last Occlumency level couldn't hurt anything."
My deep, rhythmic breathing continued, calm and serene even as persecution stared me in the face. In and out, I ignored the chaos around me. I would keep my cool. I would not rise to their bait. I would prevail.
My body moved through the Ministry as if on autopilot. Through the bustling lobby, dodging people and little paper airplanes with ease. My meditative state never wavered. I caught an elevator down to the level in the Ministry dedicated to courtrooms, keeping my focus turned inward the entire time.
The elevator lurched sideways and up and down and all around until it finally came to a stop. I stepped out onto a much calmer and less crowded floor. A very important person was waiting for me there.
"Professor White?" Edward Tonks greeted with a smile.
One that I returned, "Please, call me Atlas."
He greeted my shadow as well, "Hello, sweetie. Ready to help your old man do his job?"
Tonks shook her head with fond exasperation, "C'mon, Dad, you know I can't show bias like that. I'm working."
"I know. But all you have to do to help me is the job you were assigned to."
Tonks smirked, "Then, yeah. I guess I am ready to help an old man do his job."
Edward smiled but his tone was serious, "Very good, Auror Tonks. You have my thanks for making sure my client made it to his trial. Come along then. We don't want to keep anyone waiting."
I fell into step beside my solicitor and Tonks followed close behind us. Edward led us through twisted corridors deep within the Ministry, seemingly long familiar with the unintuitive layout of this level. As he did, I tried to make conversation while keeping up my mental control.
"Are we late?"
"Not as such," Edward said. "Fudge tried to change the time of the trial at the last minute though. He does that often with trials like these so thankfully, I was expecting it. I got here early to block any motions meant to make things more difficult for you."
"Thank you for that. You've already more than earned your pay, Edward. I'd been expecting blockages and difficulties but not misdirection like that."
"Not a problem, Atlas. Just doing my job. If you really want to thank me, you'll induct my wife back into the family after your reveal and you assume Acting Headship."
"Of course, Edward. That shouldn't be a problem at all. After so long alone, I could use all the family I can get. And I'm sure Sir-… our shaggy friend… was planning on getting around to that when he could."
"Wait," Tonks interrupted from behind us. "Does that mean we'll have to change our name?"
"No, your mother and I are more than happy as Tonks," Edward answered his daughter. "This is more to be completely thorough and due to a healthy amount of spite from your mother."
"So what do we know about the trial? Who's the prosecution? Who's the judge? Is there a jury?" I asked, changing the subject. I knew the answers to all of those questions but wanted to check again to keep my nerves at bay.
Edward sighed and explained, "The prosecution is headed by a Pure-Blood named Mathias Gage. He leans toward the Dark but he's surprisingly competent as a solicitor. Fudge has managed to install himself as the lead judge. His undersecretary and Amelia are the other two, the wingers. I've challenged that appointment but haven't been able to get any concrete proof of his bias against you. Thankfully, the final decision isn't just up to him. The entire Wizengamot has gathered to act as your jury. I'm sure Fudge spent a pretty penny of political power to accomplish that on such short notice."
I snorted, "Let's just hope we make this worth their time."
"I don't think there will be any complaints at the end of the day," Edward smirked.
"What about support? Can we count on anyone to step up for me?"
"Perhaps," Edward considered. "The Light Faction can at least be counted on to oppose the Dark. And since the Dark will be supporting Fudge's grudge, that puts the Light conditionally on our side. In the end, I bet it will come down to those who remain neutral. Greengrass, Davis, Slughorn, Zabini, etc. They're who's votes we'll have to swing."
"Wonderful," I said flatly. "Why do I feel like I should have campaigned before this trial?"
Edward chuckled, "Because it wouldn't have hurt to do so. Quid-pro-quo and promises are a much better basis of support than appealing to logic and reason."
I winced, "I'm going to have to see about assigning someone to deal with the political side of my life after this. I very much doubt I'll enjoy that aspect of Pure-Blood life."
We phased into silence as we reached the courtroom. Tonks moved in front of us and pushed open the doors, leading me and Edward as if we were going to war. Our entrance drew attention but the level of chatter in the courtroom didn't die down or falter.
The atmosphere was tense between us as we made our way down into the bowl-shaped room. At the head of the room across from the doors sat the judge's bench. It was an ostentatious thing with a tiered wing on either side for the other two judges. Amelia Bones, Cornelius Fudge, and an unfortunate-looking woman already sat at the bench, seemingly waiting for the trial to start.
Opposite the bench, the courtroom was arranged in a semicircle of tiered seating. Filling this semicircle were the many members of the Wizengamot who would be observing and voting on today's trial. That participating audience was actually surprisingly diverse. Women, people of color, and even women of color were a part of the 'august' Wizengamot body. Though, I knew they weren't as diverse in another aspect as basically all of them had to be Pure-Bloods. And the few Half-Bloods there might as well have been Pure-Bloods.
We made our way down to the bottom of the bowl-shaped room to take our seats. Tonks stood off to one side, acting as a visual deterrent but not standing close enough that someone could call foul play. Two tables took up the bottom of the bowl, one for us as defendants and one for the prosecution. Between them in the very center of the room was a chair, draped with chains, that would act as a sort of witness stand.
"Auror! Put the criminal in the chair and let's get started already!" Fudge ordered, not even waiting for Edward and I to finish sitting down.
"Belay that order, Auror," Amelia cut in. "I'm sure Professor White can manage to sit himself down peacefully. And, Cornelius? We haven't even charged him with anything yet. Stow the 'criminal' talk, yeah?"
Edward gave me an encouraging pat on the back. With a sigh, I moved to comply and sat in the chair that would likely be my home for the next hour or so. The chains draped around the chair rattled, animating themselves to wrap around me like I'd expected. According to Edward, they weren't so much an indication of guilt as they were based on the severity of the accusations levied against the defendant.
"Order in the court!" Fudge called. "Dolores, if you would read the charges being pressed today?"
"Hem-hem," The unfortunate-looking woman cleared her throat. "Of course, Cornelius. The accused - one Atlas White - must answer to the following charges: Inciting Chaos, Criminal Tomfoolery, Leading the Youth Astray-…"
"Hold on," Amelia interrupted. "That's not a criminal offense."
"Well, it should be! Keep going, Dolores!" Fudge declared.
"Hem-hem… Where was I?" The Undersecretary pretended confusion for a moment. "Ah, yes. Leading the Youth Astray, Theft of a Wand, and finally, four counts of First Degree Murder of a Pure-Blood Lord."
There was chatter and gasps of surprise from the gathered Wizengamot. They obviously weren't all informed of the severity of today's trial. Edward and I had been expecting this so we simply sat there and took the charges on the chin. Seeing how most of the surprise was from the Light and neutral factions, Fudge continued as if it hadn't even happened.
"Yes, yes, very good, Dolores. How does the accused plead?"
I sat back and let Edward speak for me, "Not guilty of all charges due to extenuating circumstances."
"Even the Criminal Tomfoolery charges?" Amelia inquired, cutting through the scoffs that suddenly filled the room.
Edward nodded and Dolores Umbridge pressed further, "What 'extenuating circumstances' could excuse murder?"
Waiting for the murmurs of agreement to die down, Edward explained, "Duel of Conquest, Justice, and Satisfaction."
That answer caused scornful guffaws to fill the courtroom. Edward and I remained silent. Umbridge smirked as if she'd backed us into a corner, "Preposterous! The Right to Duel is only available to Pure-Blood Lords. And that 'circumstance' does not explain any charge but the murder!"
"That information will be revealed as it becomes relevant," Edward stated simply and calmly.
"Listen here, Mud-…" Umbridge began with a hiss before stopping herself. "H-Hem… Solicitor Tonks would be well-reminded that he and his client are currently answering to the whole Wizengamot and the Minister himself."
"That's enough, Dolores," Amelia played mediator. "Professor White's plea is accepted for now. Shall we move on to evidence?"
"Very well," Umbridge conceded. "The first piece of evidence the prosecution has to present is-…"
Edward interrupted her to point something out, "I was not aware you were a prosecutor for this case, Undersecretary…"
"He's got you there, Toad," A dark-skinned goddess of a woman chortled from the tiered seating of the Wizengamot. "At least try to keep your bias from showing so blatantly."
Spoiler: Valentina Zabini
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The Undersecretary's face turned a very unappealing shade of puce but she seemed unwilling to publicly counter a Pure-Blood, "… Yes, well said, Mistress Zabini. I shall keep your advice in mind going forward."
"Just Lady Zabini to you, Toad. I wouldn't let you call me by my proper title even if you begged me. Hearing 'Mistress' come out of your misshapen mouth is just wrong," Valentina Zabini taunted with a smirk.
Through gritted teeth and a put-on smile, Umbridge said, "Of course, Lady Zabini. But we should really get back to the matter at hand. Prosecutor Gage? If you would begin your case?"
Mathias Gage was a decently handsome man with a very disarming smile, "My thanks, Madam Umbridge. I will do just that now."
He turned that disarming smile onto the rest of the Wizengamot as he addressed them, "By the accused's own admission, we can place him at the World Cup during the Riot. Not to mention the numerous witness testimonies that do the same. Again by his own admission, we can place Atlas White within the Top Box of the stadium. He would easily be within range to steal the Minister's wand."
He paused, waiting for a retort. Edward and I stayed quiet, however, letting him spin his story. We had a plan and nothing we could say now would matter in a few minutes. He blinked in surprise but as expected, didn't hesitate to take advantage of what he saw to be an opening.
"Unfortunately, the Accused's interview was cut short before he could complete his testimony. But! We do know that he was intimately involved with the Riot, once again by his own admission! So ladies and gentlemen of the Wizengamot, I intend to find out what that intimate involvement truly entailed."
Gage turned his smile to me, trying to make me feel as if we were all friends here, "Now, Professor White. Would you like to continue your testimony?"
I shrugged, speaking for the first time since I stepped into the courtroom, "Not particularly."
A wave of dumbfounded silence washed over the courtroom. No one was expecting me to just straight-up say no. I heard a couple of quiet chuckles briefly break that silence at my bold refusal.
Gage's smile faltered slightly, "I'm afraid I must insist, Professor White. This is your trial, after all."
I simply wiggled myself beneath the chair's chains so I could cross my arms, "I understand that."
Gage waited for me to say more. When I didn't, his disarming smile fell just a bit further, "If you understand, why won't you answer my questions?"
"Don't feel like it."
The dumbfounded silence interspersed by growing chuckles continued. Gage turned to Edward, hoping to try a different tactic, "Solicitor Tonks? Would you be kind enough to advise your client as to the importance of cooperation?"
Edward shrugged and answered the same as me, "Not particularly."
"Why not?!" Gage's composure was beginning to visibly crack.
"Don't feel like it."
The chuckles continued to grow until they took over the silence. Me and Edward's coordinated denials seemed to have won over the amusement of many of the neutral Pure-Bloods. Whether that would translate to support, I couldn't say. But they were certainly more invested in my case now that my boldness had made them laugh. I even saw Valentina Zabini - the woman who had taunted Umbridge earlier - smirking and eying me as if she were a predator. She sent a shiver down my spine but now was not the time to be distracted by dark-skinned goddesses.
Finally, the laughter seemed to get to the judges and prosecution and Umbridge snapped, "Enough! Silence! Do you think you can taunt the Ministry, boy?! Cornelius, I say we just dose him with Veritaserum and be done with this whole farce!"
"Yeah!" Someone in the audience cheered in support. "He's just a Mudblood! Make him spill his brain out his ears!"
Amelia glared at the offender, "Lord Flint, I understand that you are still new to all of this ceremony. This is only your second Wizengamot gathering since your father's death, after all. But we do not accept blatant slurs like the one you just used. Do it again and I will have you silenced for the rest of the trial.
"Now, Professor White. Would you be willing to consent to Veritaserum questioning?"
I nodded, showing Amelia the respect she was due, "Yes, I would."
As the Veritaserum was arranged and retrieved, I allowed myself to relax. This was going about as well as I could have hoped for. We were exactly where we wanted, exactly where Edward and I planned. But after this, the real fun started.
An unfamiliar Auror approached my chair with a small bottle, announcing what it was for the court's records, "Veritaserum bottle number A25 has been retrieved. I, Auror Perks, can confirm it is still sealed and undisturbed. Applying the standard three drops with the Accused's consent."
I nodded to the man, tilting my head back slightly and opening my mouth. Three drops of something that might as well have been water landed on my tongue. I blinked, almost expecting some kind of taste from such a potent potion even though I knew better.
After waiting a few moments for the potion to take effect, Umbridge grinned maliciously, "Wonderful! Now, Cornelius, I hope you would allow me the pleasure of personally questioning this… reprobate."
"That's not your job, Dolores," Amelia all but growled.
Fudge waved her off, hiding a grin that was just as malicious as his Undersecretary's, "I'll allow it."
Amelia was forced to compromise or get nothing at all, "Fine. But you'll only be permitted three questions. Not including the standard question to test if the potion is working, of course…"
"Yes, yes," Umbridge practically ignored Amelia. "So glad you could see reason, Madam Bones."
She turned that vicious, ugly smile onto me as it morphed into a sneer, "Boy… What is your name, date of birth, and-… Hmm… Ah! Do you have any titles?"
"That isn't the standard question," Amelia grumbled. It was half-assed though because she knew Umbridge had just played right into our hands.
I felt my body answer for me, "Atlas White Black-…"
Already, the gasps of shock and vehement denials from the rest of the courtroom had begun. The potion didn't care for them one whit. My answer continued.
"My birthday is May 25th, 1974. I currently have only one title that I am aware of. By Blood and Magic, I am the rightful heir to the House of Black."
With my potion-fueled declaration, there was a flash of magic. When it faded, a ring appeared, sitting on my finger. Silence reigned as my claim was recognized by magic and verified by the Veritaserum's hold over me. Then all Hell broke loose within the courtroom and Wizengamot…
AN: Valentina Zabini probably won't be an important character in this story. That said, I couldn't resist including her along with a few pictures. I've always liked the fanon portrayal of her character. A very rich and successful woman whose husbands always seem to mysteriously die soon after including her in their wills.
In other news, there will be another WWO (PHO) interlude soon. It'll be a live reaction to Atlas' trial, as some of you might have picked up from this chapter. That's probably going to be chapter 23.5 (the next chapter is the rest of the trial. Sorry not sorry for the cliffhanger). After that will be the Yule Ball and some smut and then I'll finally be able to play with my Pure-Blood goth waifu (Daphne Greengrass)!
23: The Trial Continues
"Preposterous!" One Pure-Blood shouted.
"Ridiculous!" Another joined.
"Outrageous!"
"Utterly ludicrous!"
Other protests filled the room as well. The reveal of my heritage had sent the whole Wizengamot into shock and denial. The Dark Faction couldn't believe I was a Pure-Blood heir; for once, the Light Faction wasn't far from agreeing with them. The momentum the prosecution had been building stuttered to a stop and collapsed on the spot.
"He must be lying!"
Finally, Edward cleared his throat, cutting through the chaos with a calm tone, "I would like to remind the Wizengamot that my client is currently under Veritaserum."
"He must have found some way to beat the potion! Check him for a hidden antidote!" A large man declared.
"Then why did magic recognize his claim? Do you even use that overly large brain of yours, Lord Bulstrode?" Edward shot back.
The man who must have had Giant in his lineage at some point sputtered his offense, "W-Why-! How dare-!"
Edward continued, talking right over him and everyone else who was protesting, "I was made aware of this situation well before this trial began. Its discovery is a recent development. My client was not trying to hide anything from the court or the Wizengamot. The truth of the matter is simple: no one asked. Personally, I don't see why this reveal should affect the outcome of this trial but I know it will."
"Of course it will! Everyone knows that the laws apply differently to Pure-Blood Lords, Ladies, and their heirs!" Surprisingly, it was a Light-sided Lord who said that.
Edward zeroed in on that voice with a grin, "Oh?"
The Light-leaning Lord Macmillan shifted uncomfortably in his seat, "Well… it does."
"And I'm sure the public will be very interested in your professional opinion on the subject, Lord Macmillan. Would you care to repeat yourself for the record?" Edward's grin deepened.
Fudge was quick to try and cover that up, "No! The Court orders the previous exchange stricken from the record!"
Edward acquiesced with a hint of sarcasm, "Of course, Minister. We wouldn't want the masses getting the wrong idea, would we?"
"Perhaps we should return to the matter at hand," Amelia suggested, playing mediator with a sigh.
As soon as the attention of the courtroom was fully returned to me, I was bombarded with a barrage of questions. My body struggled against a compulsion to answer them all at once until I clamped down on my Occlumency. It didn't allow me to beat the Veritaserum, per se, but it did allow me to resist answering every single question put to me.
"Who are your parents?!"
"Why were you in hiding as a Muggle-born?!"
"Do you support the Light or the Dark?!"
"When and how did you learn you were a Pure-Blood?!"
"Why did you declare the duels against the Pure-Blood Lords whose deaths you are being charged with?!"
"Will you assume the Lordship of House Black?!"
"Are you single?" That last question was asked much more calmly than the rest and came from the woman who scared me as much as she aroused me - Valentina Zabini.
"Enough!" Amelia shouted, accompanied by a bang of her wand. "None of you are permitted to ask the Accused questions! Have some tact, people! This is still a trial!"
Umbridge seemed to finally recover from the shock of my reveal, clearing her throat as she took back control of the room, "Hem-hem… Thank you, Madam Bones. I shall now continue with my questioning of the… Accused."
"I think I shall take cues from one of our vaunted Wizengamot members. Who are your parents… Heir Black?" Umbridge visibly struggled to spit out my title.
"Sirius Orion and Bellatrix Dorea Black," I made sure to only answer the question asked and not give out any more information than necessary.
"My client has informed me that both of his parents were given undue sentences," Edward added. "They were either tried under duress or not tried at all. We shall soon be pressing the Ministry to reopen their cases."
Of course, that additional information caused an outroar from most of the Wizengamot. One that set Fudge farther onto the backfoot. He hurriedly tried to plead ignorance to several enraged members at once. Having not one, but two Pure-Bloods denied due process was the perfect issue to unite the Wizengamot's factions over.
Umbridge tried to rescue her boss and return everyone's attention to my interrogation, "H-Hem-! V-Very good, Heir Black. Let's move on to my second question. Are you responsible for the deaths of four Pure-Blood Lords? Namely, the late Lords Malfoy, Parkinson, Flint, and Yaxley?"
I knew this question would be the sticker for a lot of the jury, "… I am. However, I was not aware of their identities at the time. I simply killed four Death Eaters in defense of myself and another."
Once again, Edward added context to my answer, "Please note my client's last sentence. The actions he took were in defense of himself and another - a foreign Witch of some standing who shall remain anonymous for the time being. Given that knowledge, I believe it is appropriate to deem the situation eligible for a Duel of Conquest, Justice, and Satisfaction. Satisfaction for himself, Justice for the anonymous victimized party, and Conquest for the finality of the duel's results."
"But you said yourself that your client's lineage is recently acquired knowledge!" Someone from the Dark Faction protested. "He could not have known he was a Pure-Blood at the time of the killings!"
Edward didn't even blink before firing off a rebuttal, "I do not see how that's relevant. The facts of the situation in the present are what matter, not the incomplete information of the past."
"Solicitor Tonks is correct," Amelia said. "This court's decision will be based on the information we have now.
"My Aurors were able to find plenty of evidence that the fallen Lords were at least dressed in the uniform of a known Dark Lord. One Dark Mark was also found at the scene. The others were too… incomplete to be certain. Given that information and considering the Accused acted in self-defense and defense of another, whether or not it was a properly declared duel becomes insignificant."
The Wizengamot devolved into chatter amongst themselves. The general mood of the courtroom seemed to agree with Amelia and Edward's statement though. Behind the bench, Fudge and Umbridge shifted in place. This trial was very obviously not going the way they wanted it to. Now, all they could do was try to save face.
"V-Very well," Umbridge said, her voice cracking as she did. "I-It seems the Wizengamot is decided. I just have one last question before we finish things up here and make our decision.
"H-Heir Black… W-Will you hold a grudge against the Ministry for your treatment today and the treatment of your parents in the past?"
That was a question I was more than willing to answer to its full extent, "Yes. I will personally bleed the Ministry dry for our due compensation. Starting and ending with you and the Minister, Undersecretary. You have made an enemy of House Black. I hope you like looking over your shoulder…"
Umbridge froze in her seat at my answer. Fudge tried to laugh it off, "Ahahah… I'm sure the Ministry's budget will be able to spare a few thousand Galleons to compensate House Black."
"Minister Fudge," Edward began. "My client has previously asked me to inform you that we will be taking your entire salary and every little bribe you've squirreled away for a rainy day. And even then, you will owe House Black compensation."
In the background, Valentina Zabini and a few others could be heard chuckling, "You just had to ask him this when he was under Veritaserum, huh, Toad? Now, you can't complain when he doesn't hide anything behind social niceties."
Edward scoffed, "He's just lucky Atlas hasn't already declared a Blood Feud."
That had Fudge pale dramatically and made Umbridge look like she was about to faint. Fudge waved his wand, fudging the typical cannon blast spell used in place of a gavel. Instead, all that came out was something that almost sounded like a whimper.
"Case dismissed!" Fudge declared all too quickly. "I rule the Accused innocent of all charges! Get this wonderful example of a Pure-Blood Heir the antidote to his Veritaserum! There's no need to be rash, Solicitor Tonks, Heir Black. I'm sure this can all be resolved in a civil manner."
I waited until after the antidote took effect to respond, "Until my father is pardoned, acquitted, or otherwise declared innocent and reinstated in society, I am the Acting Head of House Black. Not just its heir. Don't make me exercise the power that comes with that appointment."
"Through Right of Conquest, you're Head of House Parkinson, Yaxley, Flint, and Malfoy as well," Edward pointed out.
"B-But what about Lady Narcissa?" Umbridge sputtered from the wings. "Or the new Lord Flint?"
"That is now a House matter. I don't see how it's any of your business, Undersecretary."
"What will you do with those Houses?" Someone from the Dark Faction demanded. "They are proud, long-standing bloodlines. They should not have to answer to some upstart, Muggle-raised baby Lord!"
"Lord Sebastion Nott," Edward whispered to me, identifying the man who had spoken.
I replied to the demanding Lord, "Again, I don't see how that is anyone's business but our own. I shall be working something out with the named Houses. Whether they are dissolved entirely, taken as Vassals of House Black, or just left alone has yet to be seen."
"This is an outrage! I will not bend the knee to some fake Pure-Blood!" The recently and falsely appointed Flint Lord shouted. I recognized him from his earlier outburst.
I shrugged, "Then consider your House dissolved and yourself disowned, Flint."
Unexpectedly (at least for me), magic flashed to back up my nonchalant statement of intent. The false Flint Lord staggered and fell as his House and Name were ripped from him. All I could do was act like I meant to do that. The worst thing I could do right now was give away that I wasn't in complete control. And to be honest, I didn't feel bad for the man who called me 'Mudblood' only 15 minutes prior.
Of course, that single sentence from me caused the gathered Wizengamot to explode yet again. But not all of the outrage was against me.
"He can't do that!"
"He's perfectly within his rights as Lord of the House."
"He's killed one of the Houses of the Sacred 28!"
"And he can do it again. Do you want to test him?"
"So we're just supposed to sit back while he destroys our society?!"
"You're vastly overstating the amount of power he has. He's only Lord to five Houses. Four, now."
"Fi-… Four! It's unprecedented!"
"No, it's not. Vassalage has been an institution since the time of Camelot. Wasn't your House a Vassal of House Black at one point, Lord Rosier?"
"He was raised by Muggles! Giving him such power will ruin our way of life!"
"He's still pure of blood. Purer than you, at that. He's the child of two full-blooded Blacks. If you ask me, his nature will prevail over nurture."
"Can we afford to take that chance?!"
As the exchange went on and on, I looked at Edward, asking a question with my eyes, "Any chance we could slip out of here unnoticed?"
The responding look in Edward's eyes and the smirk on his face told me he was laughing at me inside.
Thankfully, Amelia's voice rang out over the courtroom's din, "Order! A decision has been reached. I see no reason for us to continue here. If you wish to keep arguing about the 'future of our society', do it on your own time!"
With that, the more level-headed and reasonable Wizengamot members began to filter their way out of the courtroom. Some stayed to argue. And a few even began to make their way down to meet with me. I shot a pleading look at Edward, hoping for some avenue of escape from even more politics today.
Edward shook his head, still smirking, "You'll have to talk to them at some point."
The first Pure-Blood to reach me was a woman who I was sure would soon haunt my dreams and nightmares. Valentina Zabini approached me with a sultry smirk on her painted lips and swaying hips that reminded me of a predator. Her tight, full-length dress had a slit in the side that revealed a long, slender leg and an almost scandalous amount of her hip.
She didn't say anything when she arrived, simply smiling a smile that made my pants tighten and handing me something.
"What's-… Why did you even bring this to a trial?" I was more than a little dumbfounded by the object Valentina gave me.
"You never know when you'll need an impromptu resume. You'll owl me, won't you, darling?" She purred, running hot fingers that trailed fire down my cheek and chin before turning and strutting away. My eyes couldn't look anywhere but her hips and derriere as she left.
The object Valentina had gifted me was a photograph. A Wizarding photograph, to be more precise. A Wizarding photograph with herself as the subject. The Valentina in the photo winked at me from between her own legs, leaning down to hug her ankles and demonstrate how flexible she was. I couldn't help but gulp as I took in the lewd scene. Oh my…
I absently nodded my way through the next few Pure-Bloods who came up to introduce themselves, pasting a polite smile on my face to hide the fact that my mind was still very much on Valentina's photo. Only after a familiar name was mentioned did my attention return to the present.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Lady Parkinson," I smiled warily, unsure of how this meeting was going to go. "Thank you for taking the time to come greet me. House-… Well, I suppose House Flint is no more. But House Yaxley and House Malfoy have not yet made themselves available to me."
Lady Parkinson was a beautifully fair-skinned woman with an upturned nose and a surprisingly friendly smile. Her features were much less traditionally aristocratic than I'd expected, leaning instead toward a more common, relatable beauty. Still, there was no hiding the intelligence behind those eyes.
Spoiler: Phoebe Parkinson
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She nodded, "I could not pretend to speak for Lady Yaxley. A terrible bore of a woman, that one. But I'm sure Narcissa will just kick herself for missing this opportunity. She does fall under your banner in two ways, after all. From House Malfoy and House Black. It's just a shame she's still 'in mourning'."
I could practically hear the air quotes in her words, "I've already met her actually. During the World Cup. But I must agree. I'm sure my aunt would not wish to miss my introduction to Pure-Blood Society."
"Yes, she will be ecstatic to discover she has gained a new nephew and a new Lord at the same time," Lady Parkinson hid a small smile.
Already tired from a long day, I tried to keep the conversation moving forward, "Did you have something you wished to discuss, Lady Parkinson? Or were you just coming up to introduce yourself to the new Head of your Household?"
"Please, call me Phoebe," She said, her smile warm and inviting. "But yes, I did have something I wished to discuss. Preferably in public."
"Not private?" I asked, slightly surprised. "Usually people request the opposite, don't they?"
"They do," Phoebe nodded. "But I want everyone eavesdropping to know what I have to declare. Walk with me, Milord?"
"So long as you drop the 'Milord' business," I agreed. "Feel free to call me Atlas."
"I'll keep that in mind for the future. But right now, it is simply not appropriate for our conversation."
Phoebe and I began our exit from the courtroom. People certainly noticed as we did. I was glad for the excuse to leave. If I waited for everyone to finish their business with me, I would've been there for the rest of the day. Edward and Tonks followed us at a respectful distance. Apparently, Amelia felt it was prudent to maintain a guard over me for the time being.
Phoebe didn't bother whispering or anything of the like, "Milord. I come to you today with a topic important to both of our Houses. I come to you today to swear Vassalage. Though technically unnecessary since you are already the Head of House Parkinson, I would like to make our future relationship official."
"I see… Any particular reason you're being so cooperative? The former House Flint certainly wasn't. And I very much doubt House Yaxley will be. House Malfoy is currently headed by a relative of mine so I can understand if they end up agreeing to my rule. But House Parkinson? I'm afraid I have to ask you to explain a bit more."
"Of course, Milord. House Parkinson's situation is as simple as it is dire. We do not possess the strength to stand alone within the Dark Faction. Already, other noble Houses are circling as if they smell blood in the water. As such, I've decided that my daughter's life and mine would be much safer and more comfortable under your banner."
"Would you mind giving me the names of those who hound you?" I raised an inquiring eyebrow. "I'm sure my solicitor won't mind looking for avenues of retaliation that are open to you."
"You're too kind, Milord," Phoebe gracefully deflected. "Perhaps at a later date. But that option does not change my desire to tie myself to you and your Houses."
"Well, I won't stop you if that's what you want. But I should warn you that I'm still very new to all of the politics of my position," I sighed after a few moments of thought, fiddling with the heir ring that now sat on my finger.
The corners of Phoebe's lips twitched, "To be frank, Milord, that's what I'm counting on. Though, if you desire, my daughter may be able to tutor you on the intricacies of Pure-Blood society. I believe she's a student of yours."
She sighed overdramatically, "Ahh~ How romantically ironic. A student tutoring her teacher. She's much closer to your age than an old lady like me. I'm sure you'll get along together ~very well~"
"Alright, nope. None of that now," I hurriedly cut her off to Phoebe's visible amusement. "There's no need to try and set your daughter up with me for protection, Phoebe. Or at all for that matter. Though, if there was, I have to say that you'd have just as much of a chance as her. You're anything but an 'old lady'."
Phoebe tittered behind a hand, "Is that so, Milord? Well, I am now your Vassal. Anytime you feel the craving for more… ~mature~ advice, I shall heed your call~"
"Right," I nodded stiffly. "It's been a pleasure meeting you, Phoebe. We'll be in touch."
I excused myself, trying not to let on how tempted I was to take up that offer of 'advice'. Especially from a woman who had just sworn herself and her whole House to me. I left her there, still tittering behind her hand while I practically power-walked away. I didn't have to look back at Edward and Tonks to know they were smirking at me.
My strides didn't slow for anything until we were safely enclosed in the elevator. Once there, I relaxed, energy suddenly leaving my body to slump against one of the elevator's walls.
"Merlin, I really need to delegate this side of my life to someone else…"
"What about Lady Parkinson?" Edward suggested 'helpfully'.
"Very funny."
"It's a valid suggestion. She's sworn her loyalty to you and she knows the political battlefield as well as anyone else does. Other than perhaps Narcissa but you'll have to wait until you meet her again to find out where her loyalties lie."
"I'll… I'll think about it."
Thankfully, they were able to see how drained I was from the trial and all of the politics surrounding it. Edward and Tonks let me rest while they talked softly to each other. By the time I arrived back at the Castle with only Tonks still with me, I'd managed to recover at least some of my enthusiasm for life. The System notifications that followed the trial helped with that somewhat.
3 to Speech, 5 to Persuasion, 5 to Perception, 10 to Negotiation, 12 to Notoriety, 15 to Influence Speech 373=40/100, Persuasion 305=35/100, Perception 285=33/100, Negotiation 910=19/100, Notoriety 1512=27/100, Influence 1315=28/100
The increases were entirely focused on Social skills but that was to be expected. I hadn't cast so much as a single spell since entering the courtroom. Though… shouldn't verbal combat count toward increasing my Combat Skill? That was left as an absent curiosity since the System didn't seem to agree.
Dinner should have been starting when I returned to Hogwarts. I didn't go straight to the Great Hall though, instead visiting my quarters first to recharge a bit more. There, I found Bella waiting to lavish me with attention as always.
"Atlas!" She greeted me with a wide smile. "How'd it go? I mean, I know you won. There's no way you wouldn't! And if you did lose, I would already be storming the Ministry. Think they can convict my baby boy, do they? I'll gut them and hang them up by their entrails!"
A sigh and a pat on the head were thankfully enough to silence Bella's runaway train of thought, "It went fine, Bella. Yes, I won. No need for you to do anything like overthrowing the Ministry… Not just yet anyway. Give me a second here. I need to sit down in a chair that doesn't have chains on it."
"Of course, Atlas! Sit, sit! Here, I'll even give you a massage to help loosen your stress," Bella offered, already moving into position before I'd even agreed.
"Thanks," I sighed as Bella's nimble fingers went to work. "I guess a massage couldn't hurt anything."
"I'll just wait outside," Tonks excused herself.
I waved her off, all but melting into Bella's touch. Her fingers whispered over my shoulders and neck, finding knot after knot for her to untie through my skin.
"So how was your day… Bella?" I still wasn't entirely comfortable calling her 'mother' or 'mom'. Especially with the deviant mother-son relationship we seemed to be developing.
"Oh, you know," She said casually. "Just preparing contingency plans in case you were found guilty for some reason. I'm up to number 35 at this point. Most of the differences between the plans just relate to various methods of completely justified slaughter."
My eyes drifted closed as I absently replied, "That's nice. Glad to hear you had fun without me."
"So much fun!" Bella agreed, way too perky to be talking about murdering most, if not all, of the Ministry. "Oh! And Cissy sent you a letter! You were busy so I replied for you. I can't wait to introduce you to your aunt!"
"Sounds good to me. Can I leave you in charge of organizing that meeting?"
I felt Bella shudder through her fingers, "Ooooh~ Atlas trusts Mommy~… You can count on me! I wouldn't dream of letting my baby boy down again!"
"I know I can," I said, still not opening my eyes to acknowledge my mother's obsession.
Bella's massage would have lulled me to sleep if I didn't know I should at least make an appearance at dinner. And that was not even considering how hungry I was. So I stood abruptly with a sigh, pretending not to hear Bella's whine or feel her lingering touch.
"I should get going. I'll be back soon enough but Septima deserves to hear the good news," I paused. "And Albus, I guess. Heather and Hermione too… Luna and Gabrielle… I feel like this is going to become a whole process of telling everyone about my trial."
Bella giggled at my exasperation, "Okay, baby boy. Have fun. I'll arrange a meeting with Cissy. Oh! And Andromeda! It'll be like a family reunion! How fun!"
"Hopefully, you'll be able to join us in public soon. Edward and I will be pressing the Ministry to reopen your case. And Sirius' for that matter. His will probably be easier because he's wholly innocent. But Edward is confident he can get you off as well with time served."
She simply smiled at my reassurance, "I know, Atlas. You're a good boy. The best. I trust you. Go on now, break the news, and bring all my lovely daughters-in-law back to me."
I rolled my eyes as I left, "Not married yet."
I found Tonks leaning against the wall outside my room and together we made our way down to the Great Hall. Dinner should have been just about over by now and I braced myself. There was no way our entrance wouldn't attract attention. Tonks obviously thought the same because she tried to hurry me inside through the open doors unnoticed.
That effort was almost immediately doomed to fail. No matter what route we took, we'd have to walk past at least one of the House tables. I decided to just bite the bullet and walk past the Gryffindor table so I could break the news to Heather and Hermione first.
Excited chatter swirled around me, quickly infecting the rest of the Great Hall as I made my way to my temporary ward and her best friend. Once there, I bent down to break the news, "I won."
As soon as I said that, Heather grew a mischievous grin across her face, "We know."
I blinked, "What? How?"
"The… whole Castle kind of had front-row seats to your trial," Hermione sheepishly explained.
I blinked again and Heather cut back in, "Ask the Weasley twins. They're the ones who made that possible."
My attention shifted over the Gryffindor to land on the mentioned clones. They stood, giving me synchronized, dramatic bows, "Milord."
"Right… I kind of want to see how you managed that, boys. Sounds impressive," I honestly praised them both. "In the meantime, I'm willing to field questions anyone has about the trial and everything that was revealed through it. Might as well get this over with now that it's still fresh in everyone's minds."
There was a clamor of students trying to ask the first question. Not just from the Gryffindor table but the other three as well. Even some of the visiting students got in on it. Eventually, though, one voice won out over all of the others, imposing silence in the Great Hall through sheer boldness as everyone waited for my answer with bated breath.
"Since you're technically the Lord of my House now, does that mean I can call you 'Daddy'?" Pansy Parkinson asked with an 'innocent' smile that reminded me of her mother.
I sighed. I was right. This was going to be a whole process…
IIIII
"The stars are quite beautiful tonight."
"They always are…"
"Hello, Aurora," I greeted, still not turning to look away from the night sky.
I heard and felt her sit next to me at the edge of the Astronomy Tower, brushing her arm against mine, "Hello, Atlas. I hope I'm not disturbing you."
"No, you're not. I don't particularly want to be alone. It's just been a long day and I couldn't sleep. So much will be changing thanks to everything that happened to me today."
"Ah, yes. Your true heritage. Severus was very conflicted about that reveal. On the one hand, you won him a tidy sum of money. On the other, he did not get along with your father at all."
"And how do you feel about it? The idea that I might have been hiding as a Muggle-born all this time?" I asked, looking at her for the first time.
Aurora stayed focused on the stars and the moon, showing me her elegant profile beneath their light. Her darker skin seemed to shimmer in the low light as if glitter infused her whole being. Or as if she was a reflection of the very sky she stared up at. Her hair, twisted and braided into locks, was tucked behind the ear I could see. As I watched her, she shrugged off her heavy outer robe and cast a warming charm on herself.
"It hasn't made me look forward to our date this Yule any less," Aurora answered circumspectly.
I chuckled under my breath, "That's certainly reassuring."
The silence we lapsed into after that was eventually broken by her next question, "Do you want to talk about it…?"
"What's there to talk about?" I sighed.
Aurora hummed, "Hmm… Hold on. I know just what will get you to open up."
I turned a curious eye back to her as she rummaged through the pockets of her discarded robe. She found what she was looking for and turned back to me to present what looked to be a hand-rolled cigarette.
"I didn't know you smoked, Aurora."
She scoffed with a smile, "Atlas. We work and live at a school with a whole section dedicated to growing and harvesting herbs and another section dedicated to brewing mind, body, and sometimes even reality-altering 'potions'."
When she put it that way… "Yeah, I suppose the Wizarding world is much more liberal than the Muggle world when it comes to drugs."
"I wouldn't say 'liberal'," Aurora hedged. "More 'stuck in the past' as with everything else. Thanks to magic and differing politics, the Wizarding world never saw the same push for the War on Drugs and prohibition that the Muggle world did. That doesn't mean they're entirely accepted by the Wizarding public but they're certainly less taboo. Think of it as closer to 19th-century medicinals with cocaine or opium as the main ingredient."
"Or the original recipe for Coca-Cola?"
"Exactly."
"And what's in this cigarette?" I asked a bit nervously. "I'll freely admit to being out of my depth when it comes to this."
Aurora smiled, "I'd be happy to introduce you to the wonderfully illicit world of Wizarding herbs. This particular 'spliff' - that's the correct terminology, by the way - is a little special blend from Pomona's special stash. I believe she's been experimenting with a Smokeleaf strain crossbred with Dittany to cut the harshness, Alihotsy for potency, and Lavender for taste."
I was still slightly skeptical, "And Pomona's given it her seal of approval?"
"More than that," Aurora laughed. "She says it's her favorite strain in recent memory."
I sighed, "Alright. I'll give it a try."
Aurora cheered, "Yay! That a boy! Here. Slowly at first."
She lit the 'spliff' with the tip of her wand and handed it over to me. Cautiously, I brought it to my lips. Floral smoke drifted into my mouth as I inhaled. For some reason, my brain told me to try and swallow the smoke. Aurora giggled as I was sent into burping coughs.
"Just breathe normally, Atlas," She advised, taking the spliff from me and demonstrating.
As she exhaled a cloud of smoke, I found myself mesmerized. A buzz settled over my mind and body until it felt like my whole world was vibrating to its own unique song. Giggles bubbled up in my chest, something my mind absently attributed to the Alihotsy. I felt myself relax in a way I never had before. Aurora passed the spliff back and on my next inhale, it felt as if all my worries gathered in my lungs and left with the lavender-scented smoke.
"Better?" Aurora giggled.
"Strange and new," I corrected.
"And how do you feel about everything that happened today now?"
"For some reason… All of my worries suddenly seem so insignificant."
"That's because they are. You were so focused on doing everything by yourself that you've given yourself anxiety. You're not alone, Atlas. Trust the people who stand with and behind you. Septima, Albus, the rest of the staff, even your students."
We continued passing the spliff back and forth as I absorbed that idea. She was right. Maybe it was because I'd come to be alone under the night sky but I'd tunnel-visioned everyone else out of my mind. I wasn't the only one affected by today's reveal and I wasn't the only one who could do something now that it was out in the open. The future could wait. It really was useless to worry about it all by myself.
When it became clear I wasn't going to say anything more on the subject, Aurora turned the conversation to other things.
She sighed fondly, "You know, it still continues to amaze me how different the sky is here in Scotland."
"As opposed to…?" I asked leadingly.
"Uganda," Aurora answered. "It's much closer to the equator. The stars are almost completely different. And before coming to teach at Hogwarts, I would have never imagined being able to witness my namesake."
I nodded my understanding of that. Anyone who had Aurora as a Professor remembered the nights when the Northern Lights made themselves known. During the late autumn and winter months, a large majority of her classes were devoted to studying them.
"Shame they aren't out tonight," I said.
A soft smile crossed Aurora's face as she stared up at the stars, "It is. But there's still so much to appreciate, even without them. The whole galaxy is laid out before our eyes, painted with magic long forgotten. Every speck means something. Even us, small and self-absorbed as we are, can't help but recognize that we're a part of something so much greater on a night like this."
"Really makes you think…"
"It does. Like cogs in a great machine, every star and nebula and distant galaxy affects us, no matter how far away they all are. And I can't help but remember that we affect them just as much."
"When you put it like that, revealing that I'm a Pure-Blood doesn't seem so consequential."
"But it is. To you. To me. To the Wizarding world as it exists on this small northern island. At the same time, it isn't. The universe hardly noticed. Everything's relative and I can't help but feel the magic in that philosophy."
I watched her out of the corner of my eyes, realizing something, "You do this often, don't you? Smoke Pomona's special stash and watch the stars?"
Aurora laughed freely, "I consider it part of my job description. The study of Astronomy is useless if we don't take the time to appreciate what it all means."
"Yes," I agreed. "I suppose this does help put things into perspective."
"You should join me next time as well. I didn't realize how much better this experience was with someone to talk to," Aurora suggested.
I couldn't stop myself from smiling at the offer, "It's a date."
Aurora wiggled her eyebrows, "Bring Septima and we can have some real fun~"
Rolling my eyes, I flicked the spent spliff at her. She dodged, giggling as it flew off the Astronomy Tower. After calming her laughter, she looked at me, wiggling her eyebrows comically again.
"Hey… Wanna try another…?"
23.5: WWO (Upgrades, People! Upgrades!)
AN: Changed one username from the last WWO interlude. So now, BoningBones (Susan Bones)=SherlockBones. Credit to sainen on QQ for the name.
"What is this about? I'm very busy. I have a trial to get to," Percy Weasley said.
He was more than a bit snippy after being summoned to Hogwarts so early in the morning. The twins said they had something important to tell him. 'Family business', they'd said. That was something Percy couldn't easily ignore. Why, it might even affect his new position within the Ministry!
Across from him, a pair of clones smirked. Probably sharing a single brain cell as always, Percy thought. It seemed as if he was the only reasonable child of his siblings. Well, Bill had his head on straight, even if he had no interest in making sure their society continued to run smoothly. Ginny was a devil on a broom and would probably make waves in the Quidditch scene. Charlie had his Dragons. The twins wouldn't know how to apply themselves to anything productive if it hexed them in the face. And the less Percy thought about his youngest brother Ron, the better off he was…
"Don't worry, Percykins-…"
"We won't keep you long."
"Just wanted to tell you about what Dad did the other day-…"
"Just about stormed the Castle."
"Made a big scene of things."
"We thought you might want to know."
Percy tapped his foot in growing irritation, "Stop talking in circles and get to the point!"
"Right, of course, Percykins-…"
"It's about Ron."
"Of course it is…" Percy huffed.
"Ickle Ronald has just about managed to get the whole family in trouble."
"No doubt he would have if we didn't tell Dad about his actions."
Suddenly, the mood grew serious and Percy began to truly worry. Serious twins were an anomaly in Percy's experience. One to be avoided at all costs.
"Young Ronald seems to be going down a dark path."
"We have reason to believe he's already crossed the line of redemption."
"That's why we told Dad about what we found."
"See, Heather Potter was poisoned a couple of days ago."
"Amortentia brewed so poorly that it was toxic. Nasty stuff."
"Dumbledore ruled it as an attempt at murder and Line Theft."
"And what does that have to do with the family?" Percy asked warily, already suspecting the answer.
"Well, we searched Ron's trunk afterward-…"
"And found an incomplete Voodoo doll that might as well have had Heather's name on it."
"Shite…" Percy paled. "If this is discovered, murder would be the least of our worries! Line Theft?! The whole Weasley line would be driven extinct by Ron's idiocy!"
"Relax," Fred reassured.
"That's why we brought in the big spells," George added in twin-speak.
"Dad'll take care of it."
"He knows how serious this could become."
"Never seen him like that before."
"There's a reason he hasn't abdicated the Lordship to Bill yet-…"
"And he certainly showed it when he stormed into the Great Hall."
Despite the situation, Percy couldn't quell the flame of pride for his father, "Thank Merlin for that."
"Anyway, Percykins-…"
"Just thought you should know in case Heather or her scary teacher guardian declares a Blood Feud on our family."
"Yes, I suppose this was worth the trip," Percy said, nodding his thanks. "But I really should get going now. I have a trial to catch and I want to be there at least three hours early so I'm prepared for everything."
The twins grinned, "We won't keep you."
"Have fun, Percykins~"
Percy Weasley left Hogwarts quite a bit more stressed than he arrived. To think that his youngest brother would try his best to drive their whole House into such chaos and ruin… Thankfully, the situation was taken care of. Percy could trust his father to lay down the law. Arthur Weasley may not have been the most textbook example of a Pure-Blood, but let it never be said that he wasn't a good and sensible Lord.
Percy Flooed back to the Ministry and made his way to the designated courtroom to set everything up. He was hoping that he would earn extra points with those who matter with his demonstration of initiative and enthusiasm for the Wizarding justice process.
Hours passed and eventually, the trial was set to begin. Everyone had arrived. Minister Fudge ordered the proceedings into motion. And unnoticed by all there, a sneaky spell attached to Percy Weasley's robes began to broadcast information to a Castle in the Scottish Highlands.
IIIII
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Topic: Can Atlas Hold Up the Weight of His Accusations?
In: Boards Professor Atlas' Trial (Live!)
TerribleTwins1 (Original Poster) (Gryffindor) (Prankster) (Beater)
Posted On Nov 30th 1994:
Alright, Hoggy Hoggy Hogwarts (and guests). The day we've been waiting for has finally come. Today, one of our own - a former student and current professor - goes to the Ministry to fight allegations of murder and probably more!
This thread is entirely dedicated to the discussion of that topic. Have at it, people!
(Showing page 1 of 18)
TerribleTwinsA (Gryffindor) (Prankster) (Beater)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
The trial is supposed to start any minute now. Stick around and stay glued to your parchments! We have a special surprise planned for it!
TerribleTwins1 (Original Poster) (Gryffindor) (Prankster) (Beater)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Indeed, my equally dramatic brother!
Something the Muggle-born students we consulted called the 'Telly'.
Heather'sMinder (Gryffindor) (Brilliant But Scary)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Fred, George, you didn't…
HellsBells (Gryffindor) (Chaser)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Brilliant, boys. Just brilliant.
TerribleTwinsA (Gryffindor) (Prankster) (Beater)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Thank you, thank you. Please, save your applause until the end of the show.
FabulouslyLavender (Fabulous) (Gryffindor) (Queen Bee)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
What show? How are we even going to know what's going on in the trial until after it's finished?
TerribleTwins1 (Original Poster) (Gryffindor) (Prankster) (Beater)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Shhh! It's starting!
IceQueen (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
What…
PettyPansy (Slytherin) (Not Not Neutral)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
End of Page. 1, 2, 3… 16, 17, 18
(Showing page 2 of 18)
SherlockBones (Hufflepuff)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Even…
IcePrincess (Slytherin) (Princess)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Happening?! Oh my Merlin! Oh my Merlin! This is ~soooooooo~ coooool~! Daphne, Daphne! I want to be in one of these! I'll be a star~!
IceQueen (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
You want to be in one of these? A trial? For murder? I suppose I'll just have to warn Mother to expect disgrace and disappointment in your future…
TheYoungestRedhead (Gryffindor) (Weasley)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Ohhhhhh, I get it. 'Telly'. Like that big box Dad is always fiddling with, only with magic instead of eckeltricity.
HeirLongbottom (Gryffindor)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Does anyone want to explain why there are Wizarding photos on our parchments now?
Heather'sMinder (Gryffindor) (Brilliant But Scary)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Sigh* I guess that's my job…
I suspect the magic is too complicated to fully explain and I don't even want to get into electricity, radio waves, and television.
But the basics are as follows. The 'Wizarding photos' are a real-time recreation of what is happening somewhere else. I suspect the twins have created a spell that broadcasts the events surrounding it from one place to another.
This is the end result of what has to be countless hours of work. We are now able to watch Professor Atlas' trial as it happens.
What I really want to know is how they got the subtitles to work…
SherlockBones (Hufflepuff)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
So we can see something happening in London… Inside the Ministry… From Hogwarts…?
Fred, George, I think my aunt will want to talk to you about your spell invention.
TerribleTwinsA (Gryffindor) (Prankster) (Beater)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
What do you think, brother o' mine? Willing to sell out to the coppers?
TerribleTwins1 (Original Poster) (Gryffindor) (Prankster) (Beater)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
We'll talk about that later. For now, we just enjoy the debut.
Shiva'sBride (Gryffindor) (Indian Goddess) (Love)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Criminal? The Minister is being rather rude, isn't he? Sign of bias much?
End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4… 16, 17, 18
(Showing page 3 of 18)
PettyPansy (Slytherin) (Not Not Neutral)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
What an unfortunate-looking woman…
HeirLongbottom (Gryffindor)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Yeah, I hate to say it but I think Trevor looks better than her. And he's a toad.
IceQueen (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
So is she.
GreenEyedGirl (Gryffindor) (Seeker) (Girl-Who-Lived)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Posh voice* An excellent roast, Madam. Shall I inform the papers?
IceQueen (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
See to it, Maid Potter.
SherlockBones (Hufflepuff)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Thank Merlin Auntie Amelia is there to be the voice of reason.
FabulouslyLavender (Fabulous) (Gryffindor) (Queen Bee)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
… What even are those charges?
DrunkIrishman (Gryffindor) (Irish)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Pfft, hahahaha! Criminal Tomfoolery! What a legend!
IceQueen (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Aaaaaand there's the murder…
HeirLongbottom (Gryffindor)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Merlin… Four counts? All of them of a Pure-Blood Lord? The Wizengamot will see him hanged!
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(Showing page 4 of 18)
Mummy'sLittleDragon (Slytherin) (Pure-Blood)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
If he killed my father, they wouldn't have to! I'll kill him myself!
BlackWidow'sSon (Slytherin) (Seduction Runs in His Blood)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Draco, what would your Mummy say about publicly declaring your intentions to kill someone? Maeve and Morgana, man. Have you ever heard of discretion and cunning?
Heather'sMinder (Gryffindor) (Brilliant But Scary)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
It was self-defense! And they were Death Eaters! They were actively torturing Gabrielle!
GreenEyedGirl (Gryffindor) (Seeker) (Girl-Who-Lived)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
I don't think they'll care much about either of those facts, Hermione.
Kinda wish Professor Atlas asked me to testify for him right about now…
FrenchFlower (Beauxbatons Champion) (Guest) (In Denial) (French)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Outrageous! Even if he is the Devil himself who leads young Veela to sin! The British government would see him convicted for defending a young woman?!
The Veela Covens will see this entire island sanctioned and condemned on the international stage!
FabulouslyLavender (Fabulous) (Gryffindor) (Queen Bee)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Devil? Sin? Kinky~
Heather'sMinder (Gryffindor) (Brilliant But Scary)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
That doesn't seem fair to Professor Atlas…
LovelyFrenchBrat (Guest) (Brat (Affectionate)) (French) (Coven Member #3)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Do not worry, Hermione. My dear sister is simply in denial of her true feelings as her tags say. She loves hot enough to burn, both herself and the one who holds her heart.
FrenchFlower (Beauxbatons Champion) (Guest) (In Denial) (French)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Gasp* Gabrielle! Delete this!
PettyPansy (Slytherin) (Not Not Neutral)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Does the Minister know what hornet's nest he's currently in the process of kicking?
End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6… 16, 17, 18
(Showing page 5 of 18)
TracingDavis (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
My father says Fudge can't even tie his shoes without help. Do you really think he's thought about the international Veela reaction to his rushed trial?
BlackWidow'sSon (Slytherin) (Seduction Runs in His Blood)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Does he even know there's a Veela involved? I bet he's hoping to wipe this whole thing under the rug. It is a closed trial, after all. If not for this invention, we would only have the Prophet as a source of information.
EarnestMacmillan (Hufflepuff) (Pure-Blood)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
I did not see the duel defense coming at all…
Heather'sMinder (Gryffindor) (Brilliant But Scary)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
A duel?! How barbaric!
PettyPansy (Slytherin) (Not Not Neutral)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
On behalf of all Pure-Bloods here, I'm going to pretend you meant no offense by that statement.
HeirLongbottom (Gryffindor)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Hermione, you should be more careful how you word things. Not only is a duel useful as a defense in this situation, but it's also a long-standing Wizarding tradition.
If deemed appropriate, this duel would mean that Professor Atlas was completely justified in killing the Pure-Blood Lords. The Wizengamot couldn't possibly convict him, even just for the poor precedent it would set.
Shiva'sBride (Gryffindor) (Indian Goddess) (Love)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
The toad-woman is correct though. Proper duels are reserved for Pure-Blood Lords.
HeirLongbottom (Gryffindor)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Professor Atlas and his solicitor don't seem very concerned about that fact.
GreenEyedGirl (Gryffindor) (Seeker) (Girl-Who-Lived)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Smirk* Let's just see how things go.
IceQueen (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Potter seems to know something we don't.
End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7… 16, 17, 18
(Showing page 6 of 18)
PettyPansy (Slytherin) (Not Not Neutral)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Blaise, I'll be completely honest here. Your mother scares and arouses me.
TracingDavis (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Same.
FabulouslyLavender (Fabulous) (Gryffindor) (Queen Bee)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Same.
ChangSenpai (Seeker) (Ravenclaw)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Same.
BlackWidow'sSon (Slytherin) (Seduction Runs in His Blood)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
She tends to have that effect on people. Even women. You just never hear about her mistresses. Everyone always focuses on the husbands.
DrunkIrishman (Gryffindor) (Irish)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
What a way to go…
I don't even care if I end up mysteriously dead. I'd let that woman do whatever she wanted to me!
BlackWidow'sSon (Slytherin) (Seduction Runs in His Blood)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
I wouldn't worry about that too much, Finnigan. You have to have something worth taking to catch her attention.
DrunkIrishman (Gryffindor) (Irish)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Argh! My manly pride!
SherlockBones (Hufflepuff)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Rolls eyes* Moving right along…
The prosecutor is Mathias Gage. Auntie Amelia says he's one of the actually competent ones…
HeirLongbottom (Gryffindor)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
But obviously not uncorruptable considering he let himself be dragged into this mess.
End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8… 16, 17, 18
(Showing page 7 of 18)
GreenEyedGirl (Gryffindor) (Seeker) (Girl-Who-Lived)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
I thought that was a given. He's a solicitor, after all.
TheYoungestRedhead (Gryffindor) (Weasley)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Why's he saying all of this?! Of course, Professor Atlas was at the Riot. This trial wouldn't be happening otherwise! All he did was imply Professor Atlas stole the Minister's wand. Which is bullshite, by the way. He was too busy canoodling with Hermione to do that.
FabulouslyLavender (Fabulous) (Gryffindor) (Queen Bee)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Oh~? Tell me more
Heather'sMinder (Gryffindor) (Brilliant But Scary)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Et tu, Ginny?
SherlockBones (Hufflepuff)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
To answer Ginny's question (and save Hermione from embarrassment), Gage has to state the obvious to establish continuity for the court. It's a whole thing about procedure. If he doesn't do that, the court can't reasonably 'know' the facts, even if the judges and jury already know them.
FabulouslyLavender (Fabulous) (Gryffindor) (Queen Bee)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Wait, what? He can just refuse to answer?
TerribleTwins1 (Original Poster) (Gryffindor) (Prankster) (Beater)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
That's a bold strategy-…
TerribleTwinsA (Gryffindor) (Prankster) (Beater)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Let's see if it pays off for him.
PettyPansy (Slytherin) (Not Not Neutral)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
He's just asking to be dosed with Veritaserum.
IceQueen (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Yep. There it is.
End of Page. 1, 2, 3… 5, 6, 7, 8, 9… 16, 17, 18
(Showing page 8 of 18)
Mummy'sLittleDragon (Slytherin) (Pure-Blood)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Ha! Serves that murdering Mudblood right!
GreenEyedGirl (Gryffindor) (Seeker) (Girl-Who-Lived)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Veritaserum?
HeirLongbottom (Gryffindor)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Truth potion. Since Professor Atlas is Muggle-born, the court can decide to extract his testimony by using it to force him to answer truthfully.
GreenEyedGirl (Gryffindor) (Seeker) (Girl-Who-Lived)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Oh… Oh! Ahahaha, This is going to be pure gold!
HeirLongbottom (Gryffindor)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
What is-? Oh…
Shiva'sBride (Gryffindor) (Indian Goddess) (Love)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
PettyPansy (Slytherin) (Not Not Neutral)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
SherlockBones (Hufflepuff)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Mummy'sLittleDragon (Slytherin) (Pure-Blood)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Oh… shit.
IceQueen (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Atlas White, Heir to House Black (It's almost obvious in retrospect).
AKA the position Draco (and everyone else) assumed he would inherit.
AAKA the position whose authority 'Daddy' Lucius was constantly and (apparently) fraudulently throwing around.
AAAKA the man who can take Draco over his knee and be perfectly justified in doing so.
So… how do you want to be buried, Draco?
End of Page. 1, 2, 3… 6, 7, 8, 9, 10… 16, 17, 18
(Showing page 9 of 18)
BlackWidow'sSon (Slytherin) (Seduction Runs in His Blood)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
The heir to one of the most ancient and powerful Pure-Blood Houses has been our teacher for almost half a year and none of us knew (hunches don't count)… Just let that sink in for a moment.
HellsBells (Gryffindor) (Chaser)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Sounds like the Pure-Bloods should be freaking out right about now.
PettyPansy (Slytherin) (Not Not Neutral)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Can confirm. I'm pretty sure some of the Slytherin upper years straight-up fainted.
IcePrincess (Slytherin) (Princess)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Wait! Daph~neeeee~
Doesn't this mean that the you-know-what is still in place and that it was never supposed to be for Draco? It's for Professor Atlas instead!
IceQueen (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Story… For my own safety, shut up. Also, dibs.
IcePrincess (Slytherin) (Princess)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
That's not fair! I'll tell Mom!
IceQueen (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Won't change anything. I'm the oldest. Plus, he already shot you down for the Yule Ball.
IcePrincess (Slytherin) (Princess)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Daphhhhh~neeeeeee~
TracingDavis (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
A certain two Gryffindors have been suspiciously quiet about this reveal. Me-thinks they knew something beforehand.
Heather'sMinder (Gryffindor) (Brilliant But Scary)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
No comment…
End of Page. 1, 2, 3… 7, 8, 9, 10, 11… 16, 17, 18
(Showing page 10 of 18)
GreenEyedGirl (Gryffindor) (Seeker) (Girl-Who-Lived)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Oh, I'll comment. Hell yeah, I knew! Serves ya all right! This is hilarious!
ThiccMilly (Slytherin) (Pure-Blood)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Oh, Dad, that's just embarrassing…
EarnestMacmillan (Hufflepuff) (Pure-Blood)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
At least your father didn't just acknowledge the systemic corruption of our laws for every Muggle-born and Half-Blood in Hogwarts to see…
SherlockBones (Hufflepuff)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Smirk* Oh, don't worry, Ernie. Fudge struck it from the record. There's no way people will remember it now.
DrunkIrishman (Gryffindor) (Irish)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Feels weird to see it acknowledged so openly. Didn't think a Pure-Blood could have that level of self-awareness, to be honest.
Aaaaand now I just want to drink until I forget how screwed us Half-Bloods are.
Heather'sMinder (Gryffindor) (Brilliant But Scary)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Don't even mention Muggle-borns. If Professor Atlas hadn't revealed himself to be a Pure-Blood, he'd currently have a date with a dementor.
HeirLongbottom (Gryffindor)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
I thought you'd be angrier about this, Hermione
Heather'sMinder (Gryffindor) (Brilliant But Scary)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Oh, I am. I'm fuming. I'm steaming mad. I'm just planning on channeling it into something productive.
TerribleTwins1 (Original Poster) (Gryffindor) (Prankster) (Beater)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Hear that, folks? The Pure-Blood Wizarding world will soon feel the wrath of Hermione Granger!
TerribleTwinsA (Gryffindor) (Prankster) (Beater)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
On a totally unrelated note, my brother and I will now be taking bets on how long it will take for the Ministry to fall into revolution and be overthrown…
End of Page. 1, 2, 3… 8, 9, 10, 11, 12… 16, 17, 18
(Showing page 11 of 18)
GreenEyedGirl (Gryffindor) (Seeker) (Girl-Who-Lived)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Vive la… er, England, I guess?
Whatever. Vive la Revolution!
FrenchFlower (Beauxbatons Champion) (Guest) (In Denial) (French)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Hmm, perhaps not all of the English are so deplorable. It seems we shall bring you culture and sense after all.
DrunkIrishman (Gryffindor) (Irish)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Hey, Hermione. My, uh, family knows a thing or two about fighting the British. Just saying… So if you need some ideas or just some plastic explosives, I may or may not know a guy… or three.
TheYoungestRedhead (Gryffindor) (Weasley)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Guys, at least let my brothers have some kind of plausible deniability.
That said… Seamus, you should hook me up.
TracingDavis (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Sigh* Count on Gryffindors to have no sense of tact. If they were actually serious about that, they would get a few Slytherins involved.
BlackWidow'sSon (Slytherin) (Seduction Runs in His Blood)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
What a wonderful idea, Tracy. Think we should let Granger in on a little secret? Namely, 'operational security'?
TracingDavis (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Perhaps we should make ourselves available for inter-house 'study sessions'.
SherlockBones (Hufflepuff)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
As the niece of the Head of the DMLE, I feel like I would have a duty to report the last few messages to my aunt.
Unfortunately, I seem to be suffering from a sudden, conveniently-timed case of deaf-blindness and illiteracy.
PettyPansy (Slytherin) (Not Not Neutral)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
While something that is totally not a revolution brews in our midst, I would like to draw everyone's attention back to the trial.
Sirius and Bellatrix?! The Wildcard Witch of Slytherin and Hogwarts' most infamous playboy of the last quarter century?! Professor Atlas is practically Gryffindor and Slytherin royalty just based on his parents' Hogwarts careers!
And his solicitor just confirmed they were both unfairly convicted! That's huge! I think I speak for most Pure-Blood girls when I say my mother told me horror stories about Bellatrix Black's situation. Everyone suspected something terrible happened after she was married off but the contract was kept private so no one had any proof. But to have confirmation!? Morgana! The Pure-Blood Ladies are going to riot!
NottaProblem (Slytherin) (Pure-Blood) (Dark)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
She should have known her place and done her duty to her husbands. They gave her a place at the Dark Lord's side. Bellatrix Lestrange should be grateful for everything that ancient contract did for her.
End of Page. 1, 2, 3… 9, 10, 11, 12, 13… 16, 17, 18
(Showing page 12 of 18)
FabulouslyLavender (Fabulous) (Gryffindor) (Queen Bee)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
…
Right, girls, I propose we make sure this Nott prick never touches a woman in his life.
Shiva'sBride (Gryffindor) (Indian Goddess) (Love)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Seconded.
IceQueen (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Seconded for Slytherin.
SherlockBones (Hufflepuff)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Seconded for Hufflepuff.
ChangSenpai (Seeker) (Ravenclaw)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Seconded for Ravenclaw.
FrenchFlower (Beauxbatons Champion) (Guest) (In Denial) (French)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Oh, what the hell. Seconded for Beauxbatons.
FabulouslyLavender (Fabulous) (Gryffindor) (Queen Bee)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Any Durmstrang girls want in on this action?
Svetlana (Durmstrang) (Russian) (Pure-Blood)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Da. Seconded for Durmstrang. Let the pig starve.
BlackWidow'sSon (Slytherin) (Seduction Runs in His Blood)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Good job, Nott, you wanker. You've single-handedly managed to get yourself sanctioned by the entire female population of three separate schools. You better pray they don't take things even further.
Mummy'sLittleDragon (Slytherin) (Pure-Blood)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Scoff* Even I'm not that stupidly prejudiced. Also, that's my aunt you're talking about, Knobhead! Watch your opinions before you earn yourself a sudden, surprise trip down the stairs.
End of Page. 1, 2, 3… 10, 11, 12, 13, 14… 16, 17, 18
(Showing page 13 of 18)
Svetlana (Durmstrang) (Russian) (Pure-Blood)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Hmm, perhaps there is hope for you, Little Dragon.
PettyPansy (Slytherin) (Not Not Neutral)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Draco? Good luck with that.
Svetlana (Durmstrang) (Russian) (Pure-Blood)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
He is just little stupid. Like all boys. I will fix. Little Dragon, you will take me to Yule Ball.
SherlockBones (Hufflepuff)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Hopefully, the fact that he just got a date will distract Draco from Professor Atlas admitting he killed his father…
Mummy'sLittleDragon (Slytherin) (Pure-Blood)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Ha! Take that, Potter! I've got an actual date now!
IceQueen (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Are you sure you want to try and fix him?
Svetlana (Durmstrang) (Russian) (Pure-Blood)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Is kind of cute. Like a little dragon. I will fix.
ChangSenpai (Seeker) (Ravenclaw)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
So the anonymous foreign Witch Professor Atlas saved was Gabrielle, right? That's the only way she could have bonded to him.
LovelyFrenchBrat (Guest) (Brat (Affectionate)) (French) (Coven Member #3)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Swoon* Yes~ So romantic. Like a dark avenging angel, he swooped in and slaughtered the men who threatened my purity.
FrenchFlower (Beauxbatons Champion) (Guest) (In Denial) (French)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Hmph! I still think he will lead us-… you! Lead you astray, Gabby…
End of Page. 1, 2, 3… 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18
(Showing page 14 of 18)
SherlockBones (Hufflepuff)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Last question. But it seems Professor Atlas has managed to sway the Wizengamot.
HeirLongbottom (Gryffindor)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
What a brain-dead question at that…
IceQueen (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
It seems Granger has found a good figurehead for her revolution. A Muggle-raised Pure-Blood with a grudge against the Ministry for people to rally around.
Heather'sMinder (Gryffindor) (Brilliant But Scary)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Like the Titan of myth, Professor Atlas will hold up a new Wizarding world on his metaphorical shoulders…
HenchwomanVtuber (Ravenclaw) (LoveGooder) (Coven Member #2) (Shh, It's a Secret)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Mwhahahahahaha~ It begins~
Shiva'sBride (Gryffindor) (Indian Goddess) (Love)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Merlin, five Houses? Add in the fact that he's now one of the most potentially powerful Pure-Blood Lords in society.
BlackWidow'sSon (Slytherin) (Seduction Runs in His Blood)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
And smart enough to invoke his Lordly duties to stave off outside interference.
PettyPansy (Slytherin) (Not Not Neutral)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Suck it, Witches! Professor Hotstuff is now my Lord!
IceQueen (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Crude but appropriate.
Shiva'sBride (Gryffindor) (Indian Goddess) (Love)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Four Houses now. There goes Flint.
End of Page. 1, 2, 3… 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18
(Showing page 15 of 18)
FrenchFlower (Beauxbatons Champion) (Guest) (In Denial) (French)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
So he's innocent?
TracingDavis (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
After the reveal of his heritage, was there ever any doubt about the eventual ruling? The Wizengamot wouldn't convict a Pure-Blood Heir just because Fudge said to.
SherlockBones (Hufflepuff)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Of course, now they're going to be arguing over him for the rest of the day.
TerribleTwinsA (Gryffindor) (Prankster) (Beater)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Well, that seems to be a wrap, folks. Thank you all for coming and being the first to try our invention. We'll leave this thread up for you all to discuss but the main event seems to be done and dealt with.
HeirLongbottom (Gryffindor)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
I don't think anyone saw the trial going that way. It was certainly entertaining though.
GreenEyedGirl (Gryffindor) (Seeker) (Girl-Who-Lived)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
I did!
DrunkIrishman (Gryffindor) (Irish)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Wait! Did anyone else see what was on that Wizarding photo Blaise's mom just gave the Professor?! Dammit! Does this thing have a rewind function?! Please, Weasley twins! Don't leave me hanging like this!
BlackWidow'sSon (Slytherin) (Seduction Runs in His Blood)
Replied On Nov 30th 1994:
Ah… Mother has claimed another victim. Finnigan, you poor, poor soul…
End of Page. 1, 2, 3… 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18
24: A Slight Overstep
After my trial, things returned to some semblance of normalcy. It was a new kind of normal, mostly due to everything revealed during my trial, but it was normal all the same. I fell back into a routine of classes, research, and training Heather for the tournament.
Sure, students and staff alike treated me differently now. But no one took things too far, either into scorn or praise. Most of the Pure-Bloods were much more respectful and willing to listen to me - not that that had been much of a problem before. The Half-Bloods and Muggle-borns had seemed to collectively decide that my true heritage didn't matter all that much. I'd still been raised Muggle and therefore was more relateable than my Pure-Blood position implied.
It helped that most students had gotten the majority of their questions out of the way right after my trial when I'd held an impromptu question-and-answer panel in the Great Hall. I'd done my best to field every question they threw at me, from 'Will this change your teaching style?' (no) to 'How does it feel to be an incest baby?' (very conflicted). It was an exhausting process but a necessary one in my opinion.
Another thing that helped the acceptance process was the Weasley Twins' newest invention. To say I was impressed by them didn't even begin to cover it. Their 'WWO' was easily beyond NEWT-level charm work. With (quite) a bit more work, it might even earn the pair a pair of Masteries. It also showed off two inventive minds and a willingness to adapt and introduce Muggle ideas into the Wizarding world. Needless to say, I quickly pledged myself as the first investor for the joke shop they had planned for after they graduated.
So far, I was the only one of the Hogwarts staff who had been told about the WWO. The twins wanted to keep it to just the students for now. I could understand that sentiment. As it was now, the WWO was fresh, raw, and untamed by adults in all the best ways. It was something special for the Wizarding youth to call their own. The twins didn't want to ruin that by trying to expand too quickly.
Still, after the role WWO played in my trial for the students, there was no denying its usefulness. They were able to watch the events for themselves, forming their own opinions and reactions without the usual bias that pervaded Wizarding news sources. And when the Prophet's issue on my trial came out, condemning me for my 'domineering' actions in 'ruining Pure-Blood families', that freedom of information showed itself to be a necessity.
Without WWO, I'm sure my treatment by the Pure-Blood students would be much less accepting. With it, I'd even gained respect with some of the Pure-Bloods who'd previously been somewhat cold and distant with me. More students were willing to answer questions or were more willing to engage in my more experimental ideas of teaching. Of course, I could do without being called 'Heir Black' all the time.
It seemed people thought I was more involved in politics now than I really was. That was an annoying development but one I could deal with. Bella and I were scheduled to meet with Narcissa and Andromeda over the Yule break. Once that happened, I would hopefully be able to pass off the politics of my new position to someone with much more experience.
The steady progress of the Grind shot up like a rocket as I threw myself into training as an escape from my newly revealed responsibilities.
Combat 3 to Melee, 4 to Focus, 4 to Awareness, 5 to Attack, 5 to Defense, 5 to Healing, 6 to Dueling, 9 to Evasion, 10 to Agility, 15 to Accuracy
Melee 23=5/100, Focus 424=46/100, Awareness 354=39/100, Attack 405=45/100, Defense 385=43/100, Healing 355=40/100, Dueling 426=48/100, Evasion 319=40/100, Agility 3010=40/100, Accuracy 2615=41/100
Combat is now Tier 5
Magic
2 to Herbology, 3 to Arithmancy, 3 to Magic Theory, 4 to Black Blood Magic, 5 to Wanded Magic, 5 to Occlumency, 5 to Transportation, 6 to Transfiguration, 6 to Runes, 6 to Dark Arts, 7 to Charms, 8 to Wandless Magic, 9 to DADA
Herbology 392=41/100, Arithmancy 503=53/100, Magic Theory 643=67/100, Black Blood Magic 114=15/100, Wanded Magic 555=60/100, Occlumency 395=44/100, Transportation 355=40/100, Transfiguration 516=57/100, Runes 486=54/100, Dark Arts 426=48/100, Charms 527=59/100, Wandless Magic 338=41/100, DADA 529=61/100
Magic is now Tier 6
Social
10 to Notoriety, 10 to Influence
Notoriety 2710=37/100, Influence 2810=38/100
Social is now Tier 4
Creation
6 to Wards, 9 to Ritual Magic
Wards 356=41/100, Ritual Magic 359=44/100
Creation is now Tier 4
Tier 6 Magic… Heady didn't even begin to describe that feeling. And I could feel the difference. It was like stepping free of a set of weights around my soul. There was still weight there as my magic sustained my existence against uncaring reality and time itself. But it was easier now. Much easier. Easy enough that more magic was freed up for my daily use.
Magic flowed through me as easily as walking or running. Not quite to the point of breathing yet but that would come with further Tier increases. It was as if I was constantly gliding on a cloud of my own essence, surrounded by something tangibly intangible and powerful as the universe was old. Even without casting or flexing my magic, I found myself contributing to the staff meetings more often, adding my knowledge to lesson plans from all corners of the Castle. Knowledge and power combined, elevating me to a new level.
About a week before the Yule Ball, something interesting happened to break up my routine. At the end of one of my classes, I received a note. It was from Heather and Hermione, delivered in the form of a charmed paper airplane. Why they went to such lengths was unclear. They were in that class and usually, they just walked up to talk to me after the other students started to leave. Still, I played along, following the directions on the note.
"Heather? Hermione? Is this really necessary?" I asked.
I walked into the Room of Requirement where they'd requested to meet me. The door to the Room was already visible so they must have been inside. I wasn't sure what to expect but a completely dark room wasn't it.
"Girls?" I called out. "Are you here? I can't see anything."
A giggle sounded from my left, sounding an awful lot like it'd come from Heather. I turned to it but still couldn't see anything. It was as if I was blindfolded. My arms tentatively stretched out in front of me.
"Ah~!"
My fingers sunk into pillowy soft perfection. Two points pebbled against my palms. Whatever I grabbed was warm against my skin, covered by thin triangles of fabric. For a moment, I just squeezed, mesmerized by the feeling spilling into my hands. Then my brain caught up to me.
"Heather?!" I jumped backward, losing my balance as I went over an unseen ledge.
Suddenly, I was plunged into lukewarm water. I naturally tried to swim toward the surface before realizing I could stand. As I sputtered and spat out water, the lights finally came on. For some reason, Heather and Hermione had configured the Room into an indoor pool and I was currently standing, fully clothed, in the shallow end.
At the ledge I'd just fallen off, Heather crouched down and smirked at me. Her position treated me to a tantalizing sight and my earlier realization was proven correct. In preparation for whatever she had planned, Heather wore a skimpy swimming costume that could only be accurately categorized as a bikini.
My eyes gravitated toward what I'd just been accidentally holding in my hands. Partially hidden by her position, Heather's breasts still spilled out from behind her thighs slightly. My gaze traveled downward. After a visual journey that would have been marked among the most picturesque vacations, I landed between Heather's crouching thighs, bearing witness to a thin strip of fabric that hugged plump lips.
"Hiya, Teach~" Heather smirked. "How do you like our surprise?"
Thankfully, her teasing snapped me out of gawking at her, "I'd like it better if I wasn't currently in drenched robes."
"Oh! Oh, we have to get you out of those before you catch a cold!" Hermione spoke up, reminding me of her presence.
I was all too eager to get out of the pool and out of soaking wet robes. As I leveraged myself onto the pool's ledge, Heather turned her smirk on her best friend.
"Isn't that a myth?"
I was busy discarding my outer robes and whipping my shirt over my head so I didn't see Hermione's expression but I certainly heard her hiss, " Shut up, Heather~!"
I got down to my pants and had them half off when I finally paused, "Uh… Do you have something for me to change into?"
"Oh yeah~" Heather purred, openly looking me up and down. "We've got something for you to ~get into~"
Now, I had a front-row seat to Hermione's blush as she handed me a swimming costume of my own. It also gave me my first honest look at her outfit. It matched Heather's in coverage but it was… softer. Heather's bikini was all thin string and sleek fabric that hugged her form. Hermione's looked as if it was knit from wool. Despite the differences in material, both bikinis showed off how beautiful the girls were to the fullest extent.
The crochet look of her bikini suited Hermione's body type. She was soft everywhere I looked. Her thighs were thick from walking up dozens of flights of stairs a day but still without too much definition to ruin her softness. Her hips were wide as if it was asking to be taken hold of and manhandled. Her waist was thin but there was still a definite softness there as opposed to Heather.
Heather was lean and defined. Her body looked like it was sculpted from stone. As if she was an Amazonian in everything but height. There was so much quality densely packed into her 5'1" frame. Her tummy was toned and tight. Her derriere was pert and bubbly. And despite how small and tight Heather was, her breasts still looked like they could have knocked a man out.
Spoiler: Heather (L)/Hermione (R) Body Reference
[img: https/i.redd.it/mxsuko39resb1.jpg]
I managed to tent my underwear quite a bit before a bit of fabric was shoved in my face, knocking me out of my admiration. One of my hands held my pants up at mid-thigh while the other took the offered swimming costume. It unfurled in my hand, seemingly made of spandex and much smaller than I'd been expecting.
"Really?" I deadpanned. "Where did you even get trunks this tight?"
Butter wouldn't have melted in Heather's mouth as she replied, "That's just what the Room provided when we asked for swimming clothes."
Hermione steadfastly refused to meet my flat gaze, her face burning a very pleasant shade of pink.
I sighed, "Alright, fine. Is there a place for me to change?"
Heather's faux innocence continued, "Yeah-… Oh, what's this? The room didn't provide one? Gasp! How tragic!"
I had to try very hard to keep from rolling my eyes, "You can't literally say 'gasp' and expect me to believe you, Heather. Just… turn around. Both of you."
"Why don't you turn around instead? We won't peak. Promise," Heather's smirk returned.
At this point, it was easier to play along and get this over with. Heather was in one of her moods. And unlike usual, Hermione didn't seem like she was going to be any help at all.
I turned, letting my pants drop and stepping out of them. My underwear followed. I heard a gasp from behind me, almost certainly from Hermione. I knew that because Heather just purred at my exposure. Quickly, I stepped into the skin-tight trunks, pulling them up my legs and trying to avoid exposing myself any more than necessary. Once I was finished and had gotten comfortable in the trunks, I turned back around.
Hermione openly gaped at me, too overwhelmed to try and hide anything, "I-… I didn't know butts could be that attractive…"
Heather leered at both me and Hermione, "I certainly did~ And did you see that shadow between his legs~? Tasty~"
"Heather?!" Hermione gasped, scandalized but I saw the way her eyes darted down to the bulge in my trunks.
Hoping to save Hermione and myself some embarrassment, I changed the subject, "Girls? Why did you call me here? And why the letter?"
Heather shrugged, "We wanted to shake things up a bit. As for why we're here…"
"Heather got a hint about the golden egg. From Cedric Diggory!" Hermione rushed out, eager to contribute to the subject change.
"He said I should try having a bath with it."
"And then she smacked him."
Heather looked off to the side sheepishly, "I thought he was implying something else. His fault for coming up to a girl and telling her 'get naked and wet with it'."
"Honestly, Heather, I very much doubt he meant to be so inappropriate," Hermione huffed.
"Then he should learn to be more careful with how he words things!" Heather shot right back.
"In this situation, I think a little slap was deserved," I pacified both of them. "Why don't we forget the messy part and act on this information?"
Hermione didn't raise any objections, "Fine. I am rather eager to see what the clue is."
"Well, what are we waiting for?" Heather bounced in excitement, a motion that did wonderful things for her… assets.
I was slightly hypnotized by the boobily bouncing boobies, "Uh… You to get the egg?"
"Oh, right…" Heather said, unfortunately stopping her movements so she could run off to get the egg from wherever she stashed it. "How do you think this will work? Cedric just said to take a bath with it."
"I imagine the egg will react with the bathwater somehow," Hermione postulated.
"We won't find out until we try," I added.
Heather grinned. Before we could question that grin, she took off toward the ledge of the pool, launching herself off of it and yelling all the while, "Cannonball!"
Hermione rolled her eyes and I couldn't help my chuckles at Heather's antics. She resurfaced from the pool, still grinning up at the two of us, "What are you guys waiting for? The water's great!"
We followed in a much more subdued manner. I slid into the pool first and then turned to help Hermione lower herself in as well. Almost immediately, Heather swam up behind me, pressing herself to my back. Warm, wet skin slid against my own, and a pair of pillows were smushed onto my lower back. Heather used me as a support, lifting herself most of the way out of the water with her arms around my shoulders.
"Mmmm~" Heather moaned into my ear. "Carry me? I can't seem to reach the bottom."
"Heather? Where's the egg?" I asked, rolling my eyes even as I spun her around me and into my arms.
Her eyes fluttered coyly in my embrace, "Hmm? Oh, I dropped it."
"Isn't it kind of the only reason we're doing this?"
"Whatever gave you that idea?"
"Don't make me drop you."
"Fiiii~neeee~ Let me down. I'll go get it," Heather said dramatically.
I did and she swam off to get the egg. As we waited for her to return, Hermione seemed to huddle closer to me. I didn't even realize I'd put my arm around her until I felt her sigh into the side of my chest. Even then, I didn't release her. It just felt natural for us to stand like this.
Heather returned and we set our minds to figuring out Cedric's hint. It… didn't take long at all. Heather opened the egg, expecting something different from the screeching we'd grown accustomed to. Nothing had changed though, and the sudden ear-splitting wail caused Heather to drop the egg into the water again. Once submerged, the screeching shifted into melodic singing.
We all looked at each other in shock, "Huh…"
I was the first to dunk myself underwater in pursuit of the egg. Heather followed but strangely, Hermione stayed at the surface. Once underwater, the egg's singing became clear and intelligible.
"Come seek us where our voices sound, We cannot sing above the ground, And while you're searching ponder this; We've taken what you'll sorely miss, An hour long you'll have to look, And to recover what we took, But past an hour, the prospect's black, Too late, it's gone, it won't come back."
The singsong riddle repeated when it was finished. Heather and I didn't bother listening a second time. She closed the egg and we resurfaced. I sent Hermione a questioning look while Heather just looked ponderous.
Hermione blushed, "I didn't want to get my hair wet…"
Nodding my understanding, I repeated the riddle for her, "-come back… What do you make of that?"
"It's not much of a clue," Hermione thought out loud. "It basically just says the champions will have something taken from them and that they'll have an hour to get it back. Though the task will likely involve water somehow considering the solution to the egg."
I nodded, "I'm pretty sure it was in Mermish. I just didn't recognize it before because I've never heard Mermish outside of the water."
"The Black Lake!" Hermione exclaimed. "There's a population of Merpeople living there. They must have been enlisted for the Second Task."
"Sounds likely. What really bothers me is what will be taken. 'Taken what you'll sorely miss'… Considering the First Task was against Dragons, the tournament organizers haven't inspired much confidence in me. Seems just cruel and unusual enough for them to take a champion's belongings and potentially not give them back."
"It's not items," Heather said in quiet realization. "What I'll sorely miss the most isn't an item. It's you two. And what better way to raise the stakes than by taking hostages?"
"Shite…" I swore. "I hate how much sense that makes. Of course, if that's the case, Dumbledore would never allow hostages to be lost forever."
"That part is probably a trick to make the champions more desperate," Hermione added.
Something mischievous sparkled in Heather's eye, "I'll give them something I'll sorely miss…"
Neither I nor Hermione had time to question what they meant. Heather stepped through the water up to me, lifting herself to hang off my body again. Only now did she hesitate, nerves showing on her face. She didn't back down though, proceeding forward with whatever spurred her into motion. Heather's eyes fluttered closed. I blinked.
Soft lips pressed hesitantly against my own. Despite the boldness of her actions and her usual unending confidence, none of that showed in her kiss. Heather kissed me, unsure and tentatively exploring this new sensation. Her arms clung to my neck. Her body molded itself to mine. And her lips parted slightly in a pleased hum.
Before I realized it, I was kissing her back. Her lips yielded to my initiative, letting me take the lead.
I found my arms looped around the small of her back, fingers running along the lines of the tattoo I'd given her.
Heather was just starting to really get into the kiss, opening her mouth and trying to slip me all of her tongue when a gasped exclamation broke us apart.
"Heather?! What about the plan?!?"
"Plan?" I asked, more than a bit amused.
Hermione's gaping mouth snapped closed and she instantly clammed up. Heather sighed and tapped my shoulder, "Let me down for a second."
I did. She then walked over to her best friend and said, "I'm not saying it's a bad plan. I'm still on board with it. You know I'd never abandon you like that. I just feel like maybe… we could speed things up a bit."
"But the plan! The ritual! The romance and all the… 'research' we put into this!" Hermione hissed in protest, glancing at me out of the corner of her eye.
Heather chuckled, "We can still do all of that. We'll get our hot-for-teacher moment yet. I doubt Atlas will induct us into his dastardly coven right this moment."
My voice rumbled in my chest, "I might~"
Heather nodded, continuing as if I hadn't just contradicted her "Exactly. So let's just calm down and go with the flow, yeah, Hermione? A little bit of this, a little bit of that. A kiss here and there. That's just typical courting behavior."
"I suppose you're right…" Hermione slowly let herself be pacified by her best friend's reassurance. "But are you sure Professor Atlas… consents? That he's into this? To us? T-To me…?"
"He was pretty damn enthusiastic with me at least," Heather smirked. "Why don't you find out for yourself? If he doesn't want to kiss you too, I'll do it for him~"
"You'll what?!" Hermione gaped at Heather.
Heather waved her off, intentionally deflecting, "Don't worry about it. Just go get your helping of sugar from our man~"
"Our man? Don't be sexist, Heather. It's not like we have some sort of claim on him," Hermione scoffed halfheartedly as she walked to me, clearly saying it just to disguise her growing nerves.
"You kind of do," I said. "I'm rather invested in the two of you and I'm not opposed to seeing how our relationship evolves. I quite like you, Hermione. And Heather too."
"O-Oh…" Hermione squeaked, coming to a stop in front of me and staring intensely at my bare chest.
My finger on her chin tilted her face up toward me. She absently twirled her hair around a finger. Her eyes darted all across my face, eager anxiety visible within them. Hermione licked suddenly dry lips.
"S-So… Y-You come here often?" Hermione stuttered, wincing at her own awkwardness.
Chuckling, I reached out for her. One of my hands fell to her hip, resting on the smooth swell of soft skin. My other cupped the back of her neck, leading her to look up at me with slightly parted lips. I leaned down, stopping right before contact to whisper.
"At least one of us will be 'coming' often… Try not to overthink all of this, Hermione~"
She gasped at my innuendo and I took the opportunity to seize her lips with mine. Soft and firm, I pressed into her. My lips moved, guiding her through the kiss. Her palms came up to rest on my pecs and she leaned into my body as much as she physically could.
Hermione might as well have thrown herself over the edge of passion. She was inexperienced. She was clumsy. And she was the most eager of learners.
Her teeth clacked lightly against mine thanks to pure enthusiasm. Her lip movements were stunted and exaggerated at the same time. Her tongue tried to press into my mouth as she leaped into this new learning experience as she did with everything else that caught her interest.
When I finally let her in, meeting her questing tongue and sucking it between my lips, Hermione was wracked with a full-body shiver.
A moan filled my mouth. Diamonds hardened against my chest. Thickness pressed between her legs and Hermione began to grind without even knowing what she was doing.
By the time we came apart, Hermione was panting and I was breathing heavily myself. Her eyes stayed shut as if she was still in a moment that had passed. My eyes flicked over her features, trying to burn this scene into my memory. She shuddered and I felt myself throb into the space between her thighs.
Slowly and with great effort, I let her go. As much as I wanted to ravish her, this didn't feel like the right moment. She and Heather apparently had a whole plan. I wasn't about to sabotage that because I couldn't control myself.
Hermione leaned into me until we separated. I still supported her with a hand on her hip. Her eyes fluttered open, staring up at me above flushed cheeks. She opened her mouth to speak but was stopped by something unexpected.
Seemingly with a mind of its own, Hermione's swimming costume came undone. Her crotchet top fell, flashing hard, perky, pink nipples and gloriously shaped teardrops. Her bottoms fell away as well, clinging to her full lower half until the movement of the water pulled them away. Hermione jumped, accidentally putting even more of herself on display before covering her front in a hurry.
Behind Hermione, Heather couldn't have looked more guilty if she tried. And not just because she was holding Hermione's undone swimsuit. She also sported an unrepentant grin and appreciative eyes for her best friend.
"Heather?!" Hermione gasped, her blush reaching all the way down her chest.
"Don't you think that was uncalled for?" I asked with a sigh.
Heather didn't stop grinning, "Nah, I didn't want you two lovebirds getting carried away. If Hermione's going to get on me about 'the plan', she has to stick to it as well."
"Heather!" Hermione exclaimed again, her flush taking on an angry, frustrated hue.
"I think you went a little too far here, Heather."
Still, her grin didn't die, "Oh? What are you gonna do? Punish me?"
"Yes."
"Oh yea-… wait, what?! Ack! Hold on, hold on!"
I paid Heather's protests no mind. Before she could process what was happening, I swept her up in my arms and carried her out of the pool. Hermione followed, briefly stopping to recover her swimsuit and continuing to cover herself. Her expression was one of unsure gratefulness and amused exasperation.
Once we were out of the pool, the Room shifted, seemingly listening to my unspoken will. A comfy couch appeared to be used for my purposes. I dried the three of us with a wave of my free hand, carrying Heather bodily under my other arm. She kicked and squirmed, halfheartedly trying to get free. I didn't let her.
I laid her across my lap as I sat down on the couch. Hermione got redressed in the background and hesitantly came to sit with us, positioning herself so that Heather's head was toward her. Heather fixed her best friend with a pleading look.
"You've never been physically disciplined like this, have you, Heather?" It was more of a statement than a real question.
Heather's craned her head to look up at me, "Uhhh…"
I nodded, "That's what I thought. This will be for your own good. We love you, Heather, but you have a tendency to push your pranks a bit too far. You push and push until you unintentionally burn someone.
"Like just now, for example. You embarrassed your best friend and possibly ruined our moment together. So as your temporary guardian, I'm going to take it upon myself to show you the error of your ways. Hopefully, experiencing a bit of discomfort and embarrassment for yourself will make you more empathetic."
"Can't we talk about this?" Heather pleaded.
"I don't think talking would change anything at this point. You need something to shock you, something that you won't forget immediately."
She squirmed in my lap. Her behind raised into the air, inadvertently presenting me with the perfect target. The thong-style bottoms she wore split a pair of perfectly taut cheeks. Like a lush peach, Heather's butt enticed me to take a bite.
I resisted that urge. Instead, my hand came down to caress her lower cheeks. Heather shivered at my touch and shivered even more when my hand slid between her legs. An intense heat graced my fingers when they grazed her crotch. It was soon joined by hints of damp arousal.
"Count out loud," I instructed.
"W-What do you-… ! Ah! O-One!"
"Good girl," I cooed.
Heather's whole body jolted with the force of her first spank. My hand rubbed the spot I'd just struck. With a keening whine, Heather tried to bury her face in the couch to hide her reaction to my forceful discipline. However, she couldn't hide the way her butt pushed back into my caressing hand.
Heather's body really was a work of art. With her so close and so at my mercy, I couldn't keep pretending not to notice that fact. Smooth skin covered her lean muscles with a healthy hint of fat for flavor. Her butt was bubbly and generously padded with that fat and muscle. Her legs looked so long on her petite frame and so deliciously toned.
My hand cocked back and came down on her other buttcheek. It rippled just right, springing back into shape instantly. Already, hints of red were beginning to color her golden-tanned skin.
"T-Two!" Heather called out.
I gave her a short break again, letting the tension in the air build. I felt Heather's body tense across my lap. Her abs might as well have been steel and a certain hardened part of my own anatomy reached up to meet them. She began to chuckle lightly at the feeling but before she could get in a cutting remark, I resumed her spanking.
"T-T-Threeeeee~" There was a definite moan in Heather's counting voice.
My hand dipped back between her legs, "Are you enjoying this, Heather?"
"N-No… S-So painful… And definitely not in a good way…"
"You're leaking," I pointed out.
Heather stayed silent, grinding her crotch down into my hand.
I turned to Hermione, "Did you know your best friend was a slut for pain?"
"H-Hey!" Heather squeaked in protest.
Hermione met my eyes, shaking her head in reply while a blush quickly spread across her cheeks. I tried to communicate something with my gaze, telling her to play along.
"I-Is that true, Heather?" Hermione thankfully picked up on my unspoke request. "Are you enjoying this? Being spanked like a disobedient child? Being taken to hand by a strong, older authority figure?"
Heather groaned, "Shut uuuuuuuppppp~"
"You know I am…" She added in a whisper.
"Keep counting," I ordered, spanking her again.
"F-Fourrrr~"
"Fiiiiii~veeeee~"
"S-Six~ Yes~!"
"S-Sev-… Seven~ So close…"
"Eight, eight, eight, eight~!"
Heather tensed in my lap. I left her hanging on the edge of nirvana, teasing her with light touches across her reddened buttcheeks and light pressure to her covered, dripping pussy.
"This isn't turning out to be much of a punishment, is it?" I absently asked Hermione.
"N-No," Hermione stuttered. "Just… really hot…"
"It's punishment!" Heather insisted. "I'll be good from now on! I promise, I promise, I promise~! Just let me cummmmmmmm~!"
I hummed, "You think you've been suitably punished?"
"Sooooooo~ punished~"
"Fine," I eventually decided. "We'll just have to revisit this regularly so you don't start acting out and going too far again."
"Thank yooooooooouuuuuuuuu~!" Heather started to say before her words transitioned into a drawl-out squeal.
The cause of that squeal was me. I started back in on the spanking, suddenly going at a much more rapid pace. Slaps of skin on skin sounded back to back to back. The red of Heather's butt deepened. Her whole body jolted and bucked beneath the assault. Her hands clutched at the fabric of the couch. Her head bowed and her feet kicked. And through it all, she kept counting.
"Nine~! Ten~! Eleven~! T-Tweee~lveeeee~! Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, cumming~! Oh, oh, oh, yes~!"
As she declared her climax, Heather went stiff and still. My hand naturally gravitated to her core, applying pressure so I could feel her pussy spasming against my touch.
Ever so gently, I frigged her back and forth, targeting her clit and bringing her to an even greater peak. Her juices did their best to gush through her swimsuit bottoms, drenching my fingers in sweet nectar.
Slowly, her tense muscles began to relax. I soothed her through the rest of her orgasm with soft touches. She all but melted into me. Then she tried to move, turning herself over to look up at me.
"Haaaaaaaa~ Ow, I think I pulled something there," Heather chuckled.
"I really hope I didn't make you cum hard enough to warrant a trip to Madam Pomfrey," I said flatly.
That comment sent Heather spiraling into giggles. Hermione joined her as well, stealthily pulling her hands away from her own crotch. I pretended not to notice the wet spot on the couch between her legs.
"I don't think you would ever hear the end of that one," Hermione teased her friend.
"Merlin, can you imagine? Poppy would lecture me about 'stretching' or something and then immediately give me all of the birth control potions. Again. Even though she already gave them to all the girls at the beginning of Third Year," Heather managed to get out between giggles.
I tucked that bit of information away for later, "Weren't we talking about something important? Before Heather decided to jump me and earned herself a spanking?"
"And I'll do it again!"
Hermione gasped, "The Second Task! What are we going to do? Just let the judges take potentially unwilling hostages?!"
A viciously mischievous grin settled onto Heather's face, "I have a few ideas… I think it could be good for Hermione to get some practice resisting authority. You know, for her revolution?"
"Revolution?" I raised an eyebrow.
"Ignore that!" Hermione frantically deflected. "Nothing to see there! And I'm totally not planning on using you as a figurehead! Hey, look! A distraction! So, Heather… what were your ideas?"
I rolled my eyes. Hermione needed to work on her lying if she wanted to do anything that could reasonably be called a revolution. Or she could delegate, I guess. I couldn't deny my interest now that the idea had been brought up.
Heather smirked a smirk that spoke only of trouble for the tournament's organizers, "I was thinking it would go a little something like this-…"
IIIII
"Don't worry too much, Atlas dear," Septima said, fiddling with my bowtie for the fifth time in the past five minutes. "Y-You'll do fine. We'll do fine. This is just the Yule Ball. Just your first appearance in society since the reveal. Nothing less. Nothing more. After all, the major Pure-Blood Lords and Ladies won't be here. Just their heirs… And some important Ministry officials… Officials that tried to see you sent to Azkaban on trumped up charges… S-See? N-Nothing to worry about-…"
"Septima," I interrupted her, placing my hands on top of hers. "I'm not worried. And you shouldn't be either."
"I-I-…" She stuttered and sighed. "Haaa… I know. It's just… this is the first time the whole coven will be gathered in public. Even if you're only officially going with me and Aurora. You might as well be going with Luna, Gabrielle, Heather, and Hermione too. If only Mother Bella could be here…"
"No offense, baby," I snorted. "But bringing Bella to a public function like this sounds like a terrible idea at the moment."
That got a nervous giggle from my first and foremost mate, "Y-Yes, I can imagine the chaos she would cause."
"If you get too anxious, just tell me. Aurora and I will whisk you away from the Ball and we'll continue our date in private. I'm sure Aurora won't mind, will you?"
Aurora giggled, "Not at all. I may actually prefer that. We can go to the Astronomy Tower and I can show you this new potion Severus concocted. He told me he took inspiration from a Muggle drug called Ketamine~"
"As… intimidating as that sounds," I hedged. "I would still rather do that than have you feel uncomfortable, Septima."
Septima took a deep breath, "No, I'll be fine. This has been a dream of mine for so long and it's finally coming true. Not necessarily the social aspects. But I knew that would be a part of forming a new House. So… I can do this. And it won't be alone. I have the whole coven to lean on."
"If you're sure," I allowed. "Just know that the offer stands. I won't put others over the happiness of the coven. That includes you, 'Tima. If it wasn't for you, none of this would be possible."
A shy but bright smile graced her face, "And I wouldn't have it any other way."
I nodded, asking, "Ready then? Both of you?"
At their nods, I extended an arm each for Aurora and Septima to latch onto, "Shall we?"
Aurora and Septima looked at each other around me, nodding in sync, "Let's."
24.5: Professor Atlas Black
[AN: This is just a short little side chapter because I felt the story was missing more scenes of Atlas actually being a professor. It's not technically the second chapter of the week. 25 will be coming out tomorrow. It's easily the longest chapter of the story so far (~10k words) and goes over the Yule Ball.
In other news, I haven't done a plug in a while and I feel obligated to slip one in here. Feel free to ignore it but I do put a good bit of effort into my writing and if you want to support me, anything is appreciated. It also gives you early access to chapters (up to ch.30 at the time of posting). /dryskies_btb
The week before the Yule Ball was about as normal as a week got when it came to a place like Hogwarts. Which, of course, meant it was full of things to keep me busy. Still, I was a professor, assistant thought that position may be. It was my job to take care of the concerns of the students and help out where I could.
"Neville? Do you mind staying after class for a few moments?" I asked as my students dismissed themselves and Professor Flitwick left me to my business.
"S-Sure thing, P-Professor," Neville stuttered, nervously trying to figure out if he'd done anything wrong.
"You're not in trouble. I just wanted to see if I can help you with something."
My reassurance helped calm his nerves, "Right…"
On their way out, Hermione gave Neville an encouraging pat on the shoulder. Heather did something similar, but much more in line with her personality. Neville jumped and yelped, clutching his bottom.
Heather smirked mischievously at him, "Go get 'em, Lion."
I rolled my eyes, "Ignore her, Neville. She's just like that."
"I-I know. I just wasn't expected to be slapped on the bum."
"I never am either," I muttered, mostly to myself.
"What was that, sir?"
"Never mind. We should get to what I wanted to talk to you about."
"What did you want to talk to me about? W-Was it my last Charms essay?"
"No, but that essay did help solidify this idea for me. Neville, what do you think is your strongest charm? Not the most potent, but the one you're best at."
"Well, Professor Sprout recently taught us the Herbivicus Charm and I seemed to pick that one up very quickly. But I suppose the charm I'm most familiar with is the Mending Charm. I'm rather clumsy and it sees a good bit of use from me."
I nodded, "That makes sense. It's a First Year Charm and you've probably had the most time to practice it. In the same vein, what First Year Charm do you feel is your weakest?"
Neville fought down a blush, "I-Incendio…"
Accepting his answer without scorn, I kept the conversation moving, "Okay. Now, I'd like you to do something for me. I'm going to lay a hand on your shoulder and I want you to cast both of those spells. Got that, Neville?"
"Yes, Professor Atlas."
As he went about casting the charms, I observed, using the physical contact as a conduit for my magic. I didn't try to touch his core or anything that invasive. Simply watch his magic at work. That observation quickly confirmed a suspicion of mine.
"How was that, Professor?" Neville asked once he was finished, breathing slightly heavier than when he started.
I hummed, "Hmm… I think I see the issue. One more time for me, please, Neville? Any spell. It doesn't matter what you choose."
After a moment of intense concentration, the tip of Neville's wand lit up with a Lumos Charm. Still watching his magic through my hand on his shoulder, that moment of concentration only reinforced my hypothesis.
"Neville," I asked. "Do you always strain your magic so hard when casting spells?"
He blushed, "Y-Yeah… I know I don't have much magic. So I try and compensate by forcing it out of me."
"Actually, I'd say the opposite is true."
"What do you mean, Professor?"
"You have too much magic. I'll be honest, Neville, your magical reserves are second only to Heather's in your year, perhaps even in the whole school. Most Witches and Wizards only begin to match the two of you after they've graduated. But I think that's also where your issues begin."
Neville gaped at me with that news, "W-Wha-…? S-Surely, you can't be serious, s-sir. I'm just Neville. Basically a Squib…"
"Again, I think that mindset is part of the problem. You think you're a weak Wizard, barely better than a Squib when it comes to your reserves. And that mindset spills into your casting. You're trying too hard, Neville. It's like you're trying to grab handfuls of water and throw it at the problem instead of directing the flow."
"I-I-…" Neville stuttered, looking as if his whole world had been turned upside down. Eventually, that Gryffindor steel buried deep inside him made itself known. "What should I be doing then?"
I smiled, "That's the spirit. Don't dwell on past mistakes. We'll just work on fixing what we can. Also, you likely could use a new wand. I don't know the story behind that but it only feels about 50% matched to your core. I'd be willing to pay for a replacement if you'd like…?"
At Neville's hesitant nod, I quickly fell into lecture mode, "Now, this is a matter of control, not power. That's something for you to internalize at your own pace. Just know that I believe you're about as far away from a Squib as you could possibly be, Neville.
"We'll try this exercise first-…"
For once, there was hope in Neville's eyes. Not just him resigning himself to being mediocre, but actual hope that he could be a great Wizard. It was a beautiful thing to see as his professor.
IIIII
"Frankly, I think it was a miscarriage of justice," Theodore Nott said.
"And does that have anything to do with how the trial made a mockery of the law or how it made a mockery of the way Pure-Bloods interpret the law?" Susan Bones asked.
Theodore retorted, "What's the difference? When the majority rules, is that not an indication of reality?"
Justin Finch-Fetchley snorted, "Hate to tell ya, but Pure-Bloods aren't the majority in Wizarding Britain."
"They're the majority that matters," Daphne Greengrass flatly pointed out. "Not saying it's right or just or equal. Just stating the uncomfortable truth."
Susan continued pressing Theodore, "The majority did rule. They ruled Lord Black guilty but clear of charges."
"Precisely my point! That is a travesty!"
"Any other Pure-Blood Lord would have met the same fate. Once he was declared a Pure-Blood and a Lord at that, the verdict was all but decided. The Wizengamot wouldn't have severely punished him. It would have set an untenable precedent for their other members."
"The situation isn't similar in the slightest."
"So you'd deny that he's a Pure-Blood Lord? After magic recognized his claim?"
"No… But he's not the right sort of Pure-Blood."
"Ah, this all comes back to prejudice. Of course…" Daphne interjected in deadpan.
Theodore shot back, "It's not prejudice, it's fact. He was raised by Muggles. He doesn't know the culture."
"And yet his defense relied entirely on Pure-Blood traditions."
Aurora looked at me, concerned at the slander, "Are you sure you don't want to do anything about that?"
I shrugged, "I don't see why I should. The students are entitled to their own opinions."
"Perhaps," Aurora didn't agree or disagree before raising her voice so our little conversation was overheard. "But right now they should be working on their star charts!"
In the Astronomy Tower, heads suddenly turned upwards toward the sky. The combined class of Slytherins and Hufflepuffs tried their best to act as if they weren't more interested in the latest subject of Castle gossip - namely, me and my trial - than the stars they were supposed to be studying. Eventually, though, the pull of teenage gossip grew too strong and the conversation started back up.
"All I'm saying is that perhaps he should have seen some amount of punishment. He was considered a Muggle-born at the time the crime was committed," Theodore Nott said, calm and dignified as if he was just playing Devil's advocate.
"Oh, get over yourself, Nott," Pansy Parkinson said in my defense.
Theodore sniffed, "There's no need to be rude just because I'm the leading voice of reason within Slytherin, Pansy. And your opinion is largely irrelevant to the current conversation. We all know you're biased now that he's your Lord."
Pansy rolled her eyes, "And I'm sure you're not biased at all."
"It isn't my fault that the rest of the Pure-Bloods in the Castle have suddenly seemed to forget their roots. Someone has to advocate for Pure-Blood rights lest we get overwhelmed by the masses."
"Don't speak as if all Pure-Bloods agree with you, Nott," Susan warned.
"Why shouldn't I? I'm just saying what everyone knows. The magical world should be ruled by those with the most experience in its intricacies. And they just happen to be the Pure-Blood Houses. Besides, it's just the way of things. Why should we change our society now?"
'Not to self,' I thought. 'Teach my students about logical fallacies. Particularly Appeal to Tradition. The blood purists seem to love that one… '
While civil debate was healthy for the students, I couldn't rightly allow them to win that debate with faulty logic. The young Nott was just the head of a very vocal minority but sometimes that was all it took for bad-faith-actors to sway the conversation. As their professor, the least I could do was teach them to use sound logic. If they still swayed the conversation in their favor after that… well, at least it would be deserved.
"That's a logical fallacy, Mr. Nott. Three of them, in fact," I interrupted. "For one, you're citing the experience and wisdom of Pure-Bloods based on the testimony of other Pure-Bloods.
"There's no telling where the gaps in that wisdom could lie. Could you reasonably say that you're more experienced with dealing the the struggles a Muggle-born would face after graduation than I am? I may be a Pure-Blood but I didn't know that when I was searching for work. And that's just a somewhat poor example off the top of my head.
"Secondly, 'everyone knows'? That may be the most commonly used logical fallacy. 'Everyone knows' doesn't hold much weight if you don't back it up with hard facts or evidence. A Muggle might say 'Everyone knows magic isn't real'. We, of course, know otherwise. But 'everyone knows' so it must be true! Do you see where I'm going with this?
"Finally, Appeal to Tradition. 'This is the way things have always been done'! Of course! That means they must be just and perfect… right? Things can always get better, Mr. Nott. I'm not saying traditions should be abolished outright. But they also shouldn't hold us back from making real progress. Nor should they be cited as reasons for injustice."
The momentum Theodore had been building up through contrarianism was shaken by me, dismantling the logic behind his claims, "Yes, well…"
"I'm not trying to censure you for your point of view, Mr. Nott. I may not agree with you but your opinions are entirely valid for you to hold given your upbringing and heritage. But as your professor, it's my duty to educate you. If you feel like arguing your point again in the future, you will do so using sound logic."
Theodore averted his eyes, obviously conflicted, "Yes, Professor…"
It might have been strange to be so insistent about the correct way to argue Pure-Blood rhetoric but I wasn't about to allow a student to embarrass themselves, no matter how prejudiced their personal opinion was.
If Nott had tried that argument on someone who actually knew how to debate (*cough* Hermione *cough*), he would have been torn apart. Plus, this opened the way for him to think about the faulty logic used to back up the cause he believed in.
After examining that cause through a more considering lens like the one I'd handed him, perhaps he would even change his stance. Of course, none of those possibilities affected the laughter I could see in Aurora's eyes…
IIIII
"Atlas? I could use a bit of help here!" Pomona's desperate voice echoed from her messenger Patronus.
Sighing, I dropped the fertilizer and other supplies I was fetching for her class and quickly made my way back to the greenhouse. I was already expecting trouble. Why? Today's Herbology class was with the Third Year Gryffindors and Ravenclaws. Which meant a certain loveable gremlin of mine was in attendance. I knew I shouldn't have left her there for any reason, even if she was being supervised by Professor Sprout…
I didn't even know what we were supposed to be working with today. Pomona sent me on an errand, and I was meant to join at some point after the class started. It seemed I would have to hurry though, judging by the urgency of her message.
As I approached, all I could see was chaos through the glass of the greenhouse. Some kind of plant seemed to be rampaging out of control. Herbology wasn't my best subject but I passed my Herbology NEWT all the same. Even still, I wasn't familiar with whatever was causing the students and Pomona to fly around.
A stupendous clamor hit my ears as I breached the greenhouse's silencing ward. Students were yelling, screaming, squealing, and all sorts of other synonyms for the fact that they were making as much noise as they possibly could. I immediately locked onto Pomona, trying to get a feel for the situation before I did anything.
"What is happening?!"
Pomona, held up by two viney tendrils and barely able to reach her wand, replied, "Japanese Devil's Snare! Immune to sunlight unlike its Scottish counterpart and much more frisky! Aaaaannhhh~! Watch those tentacles, Mister!"
I blinked, taking a step back to observe the situation once more with that information in mind. Students were being held in the air by the plant's many tendrils, contorted and ensnared this way and that.
'Frisky'… Sure… Because why wouldn't the Japanese strand of Devil's Snare be a vegan tentacle monster? At least this tentacle monster didn't seem to discriminate by gender… No, wait, that was worse than if it did!
All of the students in the class were in some predicament or another concerning the plant. Arms were trapped, legs were spread, and bodies squirmed as thick vines writhed across clothing and skin alike. It was like something out of a horror movie. Or perhaps the worst kind of fetish Wizarding photos…
I asked Pomona for guidance, "If it's not weak to sunlight, what should I do?"
"Just start cutting! Worry about the students first. I'll get myself out of this mess and start helping soon enough!"
"Right…" I did just that.
Aiming carefully, Severing Charms and Cutting Curses poured from my wand. Tentacle after tentacle was chopped off, releasing students from the plant's wicked clutches. Thankfully, the plant's attention on the students seemed rather gentle and seemed to conform to some semblance of decency and morality. I would hate to explain to parents why their children's first experience was with a glorified vine.
I quickly recruited more wands to my side as I released students. Most were more than eager for a bit of visceral revenge on the molesting plant. Though some still had… interesting reactions to being released.
One Gryffindor boy - Colin Creevey, if memory served correctly - moaned in loss as he was dropped from the tentacles. He squirmed slightly, trying to hide the unfortunate situation that had developed at the front of his pants. At least one of the female students joined him in disappointment and embarrassment.
I came across a trapped Ginny Weasley at one point. A tentacle held her arms together behind her back. Another slithered up her taut body and between perky breasts over her shirt. Yet another poked and prodded her lips of all things. She raged the moment I cut her down, joining the fight and probably doing more than I did from that point on.
By some coincidence, Luna was the last student for me to cut down. Mostly because she didn't appear to be in any discomfort or danger. She'd seemingly tamed the tendrils holding her and was even talking happily to them as she rode them like some kind of Eldritch steed. Her clothes and hair were ruffled - much like everyone else's - but her trademark enthusiasm was unaffected.
"-Oh! And there's a giant squid in the Black Lake! Would you like me to ask and see if I can set you two up on a date?"
I sighed, "Why do I have the terrible feeling that you're behind this somehow, Luna?"
Her attention shifted to me and she blinked, "Why would I do this?"
"I don't know, Luna. Why would you do this?"
She nodded matter-of-factly, "I wouldn't, of course. Not everyone likes tentacles, after all. It would be rather rude of me to not think of their feelings."
"So you didn't somehow cause the plant to run out of control?" I asked skeptically.
"No, of course not, Atlas. If this was somehow a prank instead of a mere circumstance, I would consider it bullying. And you know how I feel about bullying…"
Her fellow Housemates shuddered at Luna's cold words. Yep, that more or less tracked. Luna may have been an agent of chaos in my life but she was anything but cruel. But then why did the plant act like this?
Pomona spoke up sheepishly, "Ahaha… I'm afraid this whole mess is my fault. A colleague of mine sent me the Japanese Devil's Snare and I've been raising it on my own. I was just so excited by its progress and wanted to show it off to the students. I never expected something like this. And to think, it's usually so well-behaved in private…"
"In private?" Something about that phrase made me raise an eyebrow.
Pomona's eyes went wide but she tried to laugh off whatever spooked her, "Hahaha… Yes, you know, when I… water it."
"Well, perhaps you should keep this particular specimen contained to your private collection, Pomona. I don't think it's fit for polite company, much less lessons."
"That seems to be good advice, Atlas. I'll just… put it away. Class dismissed. If you are injured, do not hesitate to visit Madam Pomfrey. If you feel the need to talk about your experiences, my door is always open."
Thankfully, the Devil's Snare seemed to be pacified by Luna's promise of a date. It easily cooperated with Pomona's experienced handling - though I could have sworn I saw one of the remaining tentacles continue getting frisky with the professor as she removed it from the greenhouse… - and I was soon left alone with a class of students who'd just had their lesson canceled for tentacle-related reasons. This whole thing should have been an abnormal event but really… Just another day at Hogwarts.
Spoiler: Pomona Sprout (bc why not?)
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25: Yule Ball Double Feature
"Ah, Atlas, Aurora, Septima," Dumbledore greeted with a kind smile.
"Albus," Aurora greeted with a smile as well.
"I would offer you a hand to shake but both of mine seem to be occupied at the moment," I said.
Dumbledore chuckled with twinkling eyes, "So I can see. You three are simply radiant tonight."
Septima curtsied, "Thank you, Headmaster. You are looking quite dashing yourself."
"Albus, dear. Despite the event, there is no need for formalities," Dumbledore rebuked.
Pink dusted Septima's cheeks, "My apologies, Albus. I'm still a bit nervous."
"Nothing to it, my dear Septima. You are a beautiful young woman with the talk of the year on her arm. There's nothing to worry about but enjoying yourself. Mingle, dance, make merry, and laugh. The night is yours," Dumbledore advised.
"T-Thank you, Albus. I shall endeavor to make this a night worth remembering."
"Very good. Don't let me keep you. I spy Severus lurking in the corner. I think I will go bother-… chat with him. See if I can't get him out of his shell. There's a Professor from Durmstrang in attendance and Severus came without an escort. I think the two of them will get along wonderfully," Dumbledore excused himself.
Aurora blinked as Dumbledore left, asking me and Septima, "Aren't all the visiting professors from Durmstrang male?"
"I'm sure Albus doesn't see how that's relevant," I stifled a smirk.
Septima giggled, her remaining anxiety evaporating into the ether as she did, "Poor Severus. Pomona told me he couldn't convince Lady Narcissa to attend with him."
After sharing a laugh over Snape's misfortune, I turned the conversation back to my two dates, "Albus is right, you know? You two look absolutely stunning tonight."
Aurora grinned and Septima blushed, both leaning into me a bit more. They must have coordinated their dresses with each other. And Aurora must have won the chance to lead that coordination. Their aesthetic certainly matched her style more than Septima's.
Aurora's dress, of course, took after the stars. It was a tight, slinky number that hugged her figure with an open slit for one of her legs. The color of the dress was a gradient that faded from dark blue to black as if emulating a twilight sky. Specks of white dotted the dress, enchanted to sparkle like the stars they were supposed to be.
Septima's dress was similar in form and function. But instead of the stars, she wore the moon. Twin crescents cupped the inside curve of her cleavage. Her dress was also pure black instead of Aurora's gradient and dipped low in the back to reveal a tantalizing expanse of flawless pale skin.
In comparison, my outfit was nothing to write home about. It fit well and was rather classy - something I had to thank my quite generous salary for (I still hadn't gotten around to visiting the Black Vaults). But its elegance lay in its simplicity. Just an open black, fitted robe with a white shirt underneath and dress pants.
Aurora's grin didn't fade as she looked around the converted Great Hall, "We do make quite the throuple, don't we?"
"Oh dear," Septima covered her mouth. "Our students are staring."
"At you two, I'm sure," I said.
"I wouldn't say that," Aurora giggled. "I recognize the look in Ms. Parkinson's eyes and it's certainly not directed at Septima or I."
I groaned, "Ugh, I'm still not sure how to deal with her. She's called me 'Daddy' several times during class now."
"I think it's rather cute. She obviously didn't have a good relationship with her birth father. You'd make a much better male role model for the girl," Septima suggested leadingly.
I grumbled halfheartedly, "My main issue is that she does it during class. If she truly wants my approval, she should be trying her best to learn instead of trying to extract a reaction from me."
The three of us continued scanning the Ball's attendees as we waited for the champions to make their entrance. Innocent comments were thrown around here and there to amuse ourselves.
"Severus seems to be defending himself well."
"For now…"
"Where are Luna and Gabrielle?"
"They'll be a bit late. Luna wanted to make an entrance… Yes, I'm just as worried about what that entails as you are."
"Hagrid and Madam Maxime make for a cute couple, don't they?"
"Everyone cleans up so well."
"Good Lord, is Mr. Finnigan already trying to spike the punch?"
"Eh, students can have a little fire whiskey. As a treat."
Occasionally, we found something that caught our focus for more than a simple comment.
Draco Malfoy was quite literally hanging off the arm of a woman who must have been a foot taller than him - not counting her high heels. I vaguely recognized her as a Durmstrang student, one of the Russians perhaps? She was, well, statuesque was the only way to describe her. A long, slender leg - toned with muscle - peeked out from beneath a flowing white dress. Her skin was so pale it might as well have been sparkling under the Ball's lights. Her expression was icy but amused and she led the young Malfoy around as if he was on a leash.
"I believe Mr. Malfoy may be in danger tonight."
"His date is rather… intimidating. Still very beautiful though."
"What are you going to do with him, Atlas?" Aurora inquired. "He does fall under your Lordships after all. Twice over, at that."
"I believe I'm going to leave the final decision up to Narcissa. Personally, I don't much care what happens to him. He's been more than a little disrespectful to me and my ward," I said, shrugging.
"Perhaps we should treat him as a daughter of the House and give him away with a dowry," Septima suggested, amused by the idea. "Judging by tonight, we should be able to find an interested 'buyer' - so to say."
I didn't bother hiding my smirk, "I'll be sure to broach the idea with Narcissa."
"I hope it's not too inappropriate to say I hope she agrees," Aurora tittered into her hand.
Eventually, the champions and their dates made their entrance, led by Professor McGonagall. Heather and Hermione looked spectacular, going for matching dresses like Septima and Aurora, though Hermione's was a periwinkle-blue and Heather's was emerald-green. All of the champions and their dates looked spectacular in fact.
However, there was something I noticed with a frown. Fleur's date didn't appear to be at his best tonight. He was drooling, actually drooling. And couldn't seem to keep his hands to himself.
Fleur herself alternated between glaring at her buffoonish date and scanning the crowd for something. She found it when her eyes landed on me. For a moment, they lit up. Then she settled into a glare even more scathing than the one she directed at her date.
I winced. I'd probably have to do something to fix that. Fleur's date - a Ravenclaw I vaguely recognized but couldn't place with a name - looked only moments away from making a grab for Fleur's ass in his Allure-driven daze.
"Either of you see what I see?" I asked my two dates.
"How the opening dance is about to devolve into a scene of sexual assault?" Aurora growled, her eyes locked on Fleur's date. "Yeah, I see it."
"S-Surely it won't be that bad…?" Septima tried to make up an excuse.
"Septima. He just tried to pinch her ass. In front of everyone. And Minerva. She had to swat his hand away. Not only is that just deplorable, but this is her night. She shouldn't have to deal with Allure-stricken fools. Especially not as her date."
Septima sighed, "I suppose you're right. Divide and conquer?"
"So long as you two don't mind adding a fourth…"
"Of course not, Atlas. Go save an unfortunate Veela. Again," Aurora smirked at me. "Just know that you owe us an extra dance each by the end of the night. And I'm not talking about the upright kind~"
Before the opening dance could be started, the three of us approached the champions. Septima went to Minerva to stall and explain the situation to her. Aurora took Fleur's date, pulling him aside bodily and hitting him with a stream of water from her wand in an attempt to sober him up. I went to Fleur herself, smoothly taking the poor brain-addled boy's place at her side.
"Devil," Fleur hissed something that could have maybe passed for a greeting out of the corner of her mouth.
I put on a smile, "Hello, Fleur. It seems you'll get what you wanted after all. My generous dates and I decided that you were looking a bit uncomfortable. So we've come to your rescue. I'll be performing the opening dance with you in place of your unfortunately incapacitated date."
"I had it under control!"
"Did you?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.
Fleur faltered, "I-… Well, he would not have gotten far!"
She calmed herself and cleared her throat, "Ahem… Still, it is good to see you've come to your senses. Now, you shall be escorting the most beautiful woman here. Rejoice, Fiend."
"Eh, this is more of a charity case than anything else," I smirked, deliberately pushing Fleur's buttons. "Aurora and Septima are still my official dates. With you, it's more like… I'm doing you a favor out of the goodness of my heart."
"H-How dare you!" Fleur let out a scandalized, gasping whisper. "You brute! You barbarian! You contemptuous fool! I shall see you drawn and quartered for your insolence!"
I glared at her slightly, "I will leave you here to dance by yourself, Fleur. I enjoy our little games but don't push it. Threatening to have me tortured is going too far."
Suitably chastised, Fleur looked down, "I-I'm sorry… Y-You just make me so angry sometimes…"
"If it makes you feel better, I do think you're one of the most beautiful women here. You are the belle of the ball, quite literally."
Fleur preened, bouncing back, "I am, aren't I? And how lucky you are to have that belle on your arm."
I patted her hand condescendingly, "Of course, dear. The luckiest man here."
Fleur didn't seem to pick up on my snark, practically giddy, "Finally, everything is as it should be. The Fiend has been tamed by my beauty and charm. Soon enough, he will r-r-ravish me again. I shall grin and bear this 'tragedy' with my unending benevolence. How d-dreadful~… Oh, woe is me!"
I rolled my eyes fondly as she drifted off into fantasy. Still, I took her arm in mine and took her date's place amongst the champions' group. Heather snickered at my 'misfortune'. Like a mature adult, I stuck my tongue out at her.
Other than Heather and Fleur herself, my arrival was greeted with smiles and polite nods. Hermione gave me a little wave as well. I knew Cedric and his date Cho Chang quite well as their professor. They were both brilliant and it felt good to see them happy together. Krum and his date - a very petite Durmstrang girl were more unfamiliar but they still greeted me politely.
Eventually, Minerva returned to the group, having gotten a justification for my actions from Septima, and nodded to me, "Now that the… danger… has been averted, we shall begin. Pair up with your partners. The music will start soon. Atlas? Thank you for taking responsibility and acting to avert disaster."
"Of course, Minerva," I said modestly. "It's barely an inconvenience."
She left and the champions took up starting positions with their dates. I held Fleur at a polite distance while we waited for the music to signal us to start.
"Is that all?" She scoffed. "No, no, this will not do at all."
She physically shifted my hand placement, settling one on her lower back and holding the other within hers.
"Much better," Fleur sniffed haughtily.
In this new position, we were practically glued together at the hip. She stared up at me with smoky eyes, daring me to protest. I didn't. Instead, I took up her unspoken challenge, pulling her impossibly closer. A preening purr seemed to resonate involuntarily within her chest.
The band began to play and our feet moved in sync. Almost instantly, I was thankful for Septima's lessons. Fleur all but led me, with grace and poise and familiar feet, instead of the other way around. I did my best to keep up and then take back control.
I had a feeling Fleur would think less of me if I let her do all of the work. I was of half a mind to let her even still but reason prevailed. This was her night. I wasn't about to ruin it in such a petty way.
We swayed and spun to the beat. I did my best to make sure every eye was trained on her. Despite how… difficult she could be, Fleur deserved nothing less. She was a beautiful woman and I made sure the whole world could see that fact.
A wide smile stretched across her lips. So lost in the moment, Fleur let her Allure billow out around us. There would be no denying her tonight.
Even the other champions disappeared before a happy Veela in her element. She was entrancing, intoxicating as if desire given physical form, and I'm sure her presence tonight would be remembered for years to come.
Eventually, the first song wound down and the rest of the Ball's attendees stormed onto the dancefloor. I saw the other champions exit the floor out of the corner of my eye. Fleur was too unflappably present to take notice.
With no other choice, I indulged her, staying on the floor for a second song. She deserved a small sacrifice like that.
She was a champion, a belle of the ball, and a young woman in her prime, having the time of her life. I was more than happy to help her revel in the attention.
It was at times like this - when Fleur wasn't glaring at me or playing her silly denial games - that I was reminded of what a gorgeous creature Fleur was. She was practically transcendent. All fluttering silver hair, bright eyes, and a killer body. And then there was her Allure, billowing and crackling the air around her like flames. Fleur was as close to angelic as a mortal could be.
When we finally did leave the dance floor, Fleur was panting with exhilaration. You wouldn't have been able to scrub the smile off of her face with a power washer. Wide eyed and practically vibrating, I led her to the drink table to quench our thirst.
"Incroyable! Merci, Atlas, for a wonderful dance!"
"You know, that might be the first time you've called me by my name."
Even that slightly cutting remark didn't dim Fleur's attitude. She grinned, "I am sure I do not know what you are talking about, ~Devil~"
I sighed dramatically, "Ah, what a shame… For a moment there, you were almost attractive."
"You take that back!" Fleur's giggles said she wasn't serious. "I am always attractive. Maman named me 'the flower of France' for a reason! Consider yourself fortunate that I even deign you with my lofty attention."
"So fortunate…" I deadpanned.
"Indeed, I am glad you are finally treating me with the proper reverence," Fleur declared imperiously. "Now that I've grabbed your focus, you will drop your cruel and unusual intentions for my baby sister."
"Fleur, if I cut Gabrielle off because of you, she might literally kill me."
"And? Why is that a problem?"
"Well, I quite like being alive. And if I'm not, I can't keep lavishing you with worship like a goddess deserves."
"Hmm," Fleur hummed. "You make some good points. I would not like to lose such a devoted worshipper now that you've finally acknowledged my beauty and greatness… Very well. Swear yourself to me and I shall make it my duty to ensure your intentions are pure."
"Yeah… I'm not going to do that," I refused up front.
"Wha-! B-But you must!" Fleur sputtered.
"Fleur," I reasoned. "Your sister loves me. And she's not the only one. Don't you love her enough to trust her judgment? If not, what about Septima's? Or your own?"
Fleur huffed, turning away in denial, "Hmph! I don't know what makes you think I'm in love with you."
Sighing, I conceded this topic, "Let's not get into this right now. Enjoy tonight, Fleur. As Dumbledore told me earlier, 'Dance, mingle, make merry, and laugh. The night is yours.'"
I turned to leave and Fleur hurried to stop me, "W-Wait! Y-You are leaving me…?"
"I have two other dates to pay attention to," I reminded her. "You're welcome to join us but they deserve to have fun just as much as you do."
She worried at her lip for a moment before resolving herself and regaining some of her usual spunk, "I shall join you. Rejoice, Beast."
I chuckled to myself, "Girl, Septima and Aurora are going to eat you alive."
"I must prepare," Fleur said, shuddering. "This is punch, yes? Is there alcohol here?"
"I think I saw someone spiking the punch."
"Good."
She spooned herself a cup and drained it just as quickly. After a few deep breaths, she went back for another. This cup she sipped from delicately.
"I-I am ready to meet your mistresses, Devil."
I snorted, "If anything, you're the mistress."
Fleur turned her nose up at me, "Than I shall be the best mistress of them all. The kind that even the main wife loves and cherishes."
"Is that so?" I smirked. "Well, you can bring that up with Septima then."
We made our way through the throng of Ball attendees, smiling and making nice as we did. Fleur was still the center of attention. And for good reason too. Grace incarnate, she glided across the floor, her feet barely seeming to touch down. Her Allure was back under control, tightly coiled around her. It was just enough to attract attention and give those close a taste of what she really was.
I gave Septima and Aurora short pecks when we reached them, "I brought company."
Aurora smirked, eying Fleur up and down like a predator, "So we see~"
"Just in time, Atlas dear," Septima said, drawing me back into a more fierce kiss while Fleur simply watched. "I believe Luna and Gabrielle are about to make their entrance."
I blinked, just as shaken by that information as I was by the kiss, "How do you know?"
"Luna does have a certain way with things, doesn't she?" Septima's eyes might as well have twinkled with how smug she was.
"I'm not going to like this, am I?" I groaned.
"My baby sister has been enlisted in this… 'entrance'?" Fleur asked, suddenly just as worried as I was.
"That is what Luna has told me. Will that be a problem?"
It was Fleur's turn to groan, "Almost certainly. Gabrielle brings a unique flavor of mischief to everything she's involved in."
"Oh, I'm sure you two are overreacting," Aurora tried to reassure us.
Fleur and I just fixed her with a pair of flat gazes and said nothing. And that's when the strings and horns and woodwinds started…
"Ode to Joy? Well, I suppose it is Yule and Christmas isn't far off," Septima expressed, mildly surprised.
A whole symphony cut across the Great Hall, interrupting the Weird Sisters - the band that was playing the Ball. People looked around, wondering where the additional music was coming from. Leaves of Holly began to fall from the ceiling. As the Ode reached its first crescendo, Luna made her entrance.
"Blimey, a Gray-horned Bibbledygonker! How'd she tame that?" Hagrid's booming voice cut through the symphony.
Luna appeared from… somewhere. She rode into the Great Hall on a great goat-looking creature. One the size of a small car. Its horns could have easily gored even Hagrid and Luna sat on its back like all was right in the world. It pulled a large log that had been set ablaze, roaring with flame as if a bonfire. A gigantic bough of Mistletoe was held in the beast's mouth. It was also flying, stepping on air as if it was solid ground. Because why not…
A line of unopened butterbeer bottles marched in behind Luna. The bottles began to distribute themselves as Luna and her steed pranced around the room above everyone's heads. She did a couple of laps to make sure everyone had a bottle or two or three and then stopped, perched atop a goat that was perched atop thin air beneath the Yule Ball's chandelier.
The music reached its second crescendo and ghostly voices began to sing along. Literally, as it turned out. Looking around the fringes of the Great Hall, I could see that Luna had enlisted the Hogwarts ghosts into her entrance scheme.
With the opera joining the orchestra, the second missing member of my coven made her entrance. Gabrielle Delacour flew into the Ball on wings of fire. She was also clad in what had to be the skimpiest, thinnest excuse for a white dress I'd ever seen. It wasn't so much a matter of flashing her panties as it was not to flash them. The part covering her breasts might as well have been made of string. A flaming halo sits around her head and I just about cotton on to what Luna's trying to do.
"Angel!" Someone gasps.
"A Veela Angel!"
"Blessed be this day…"
Surprisingly enough, there actually seem to be some Christian Wizards in the crowd. Most of them were Muggle-born but I saw an odd Pure-Blood here and there reacting the same way. Though they were mostly the ones visiting from Durmstrang so maybe that had something to do with it.
"Luna!" I hissed when Gabrielle joined her beneath the chandelier. "Get down from there!"
"Okay!" Luna cheerfully agreed. "But why?"
"Oh, where do I even start?" I asked rhetorically.
"The beginning is usually a good place," Luna helpfully informed.
I dragged my palm down my face, "Just… just come down here before Minerva starts to yell at us. Please?"
"Okay! C'mon, Ang-rielle! Mush, Prancer!" Thankfully, Luna complied, descending from the air without leaving the back of her colossal goat.
Her mount stopped in front of me and Luna hopped off, landing lightly on her feet. She skipped over to me, innocent as can be. Gabrielle descended as well. She was immediately pulled to the side by Fleur who began lecturing her in rapid French while Gabrielle just giggled at her sister.
"This is just… so unnecessarily extra, Luna," I said. "And please, please get rid of that log before someone gets hurt."
"But it's the Yule Log!" Luna complained. "It's an important part of Yule traditions. So long as it burns, the festivities can't end!"
"And how long is it supposed to burn?"
"12 days."
"So you're supposed to be… the Yule Spirit?" I asked, trying to work through Luna's thought process.
"Yep! I couldn't find a goat but I thought a Gray-horned Bibbledygonker worked just as well."
"It certainly fits," I deadpanned. "And the butterbeer?"
Luna beamed at me, "You can't have Yule without ale! Don't be silly, Atlas."
"Right… So you're Yule. And I assume Gabrielle is supposed to be the Christmas Spirit? Or just an Angel? I wasn't aware she was Christian."
Luna blinked, "I don't see what that has to do with anything. She's just exercising her Veela heritage. It's not her fault if people mistake her for an Angel. She's just a winged Veela who happens to be celebrating Christmas."
I nodded along, "Of course, of course. Her entrance wasn't designed to evoke religious awe at all. Because that would be rather silly and inconsiderate, wouldn't it."
Luna stared at me blankly for a moment, "… Yes… Yes, it would."
"I'm glad we agree… Well, if you wanted to make an entrance, you certainly succeeded."
"Thank you!" Luna bounced back to her usual smile.
"But now you have to clean all of this up. And put that burning log somewhere else. This is a classy event, Luna. Be respectful to the ones who spent so much time planning and putting it together," I lectured lightly.
"Awwww~" Luna deflated before trying one last thing. "Before I do, can I have a kiss?"
"In front of everyone like this?" I raised an eyebrow, looking around at everyone watching.
"We are underneath Mistletoe," Luna pointed up at her goat that was chewing on the bough of Mistletoe with a blank stare. "Don't worry. I've already cleaned it of Nargles!"
Sighing, I conceded. I leaned down to plant a small peck on Luna's lips. She hummed happily, accepting my 'peace offering'. Feminine 'Aw's rang out from the watching crowd. Then she snapped her fingers, calling her mount down to her, "C'mon, Prancer! We've got cleanup to do!"
I thanked the stars that Luna was willing to humor and listen to me on this. I could already see Professor McGonagall glaring at me out of the corner of my eye, promising without words that I would regret it if she had to step in to take care of Luna. When it didn't come to that, she gave a satisfied nod and went back to enjoying/chaperoning the Ball.
With the excitement seemingly over, people went back to their business, enjoying the Ball and the fun little 'distraction' Luna and Gabrielle had provided. I shook my head fondly, marveling at the events that had come to surround me in a mere semester's time. Then again, this was Hogwarts. Nothing was ever boring in this Castle.
With Luna temporarily occupied and probably unable to get into trouble, I returned to my dates. Fleur was still lecturing Gabrielle and my other two dates were watching with open amusement. I slipped between them, putting an arm around each.
"Is this going as poorly as it looks to be?" I stage-whispered.
"It is not going poorly!" Fleur snapped. "Gabby will listen to me on this… this nonsense! She will see reason and know that she cannot go about exposing herself like some common harlot!"
"There is nothing 'common' about me, sister~, about us~" Gabrielle purred.
"It is most definitely going poorly…" Aurora deadpanned.
"Of course, there isn't!" Fleur declared, agreeing with her sister and yet continuing her argument. "We are Veela! Magnificent! But that is all the more reason we should not be giving away free shows like this! Save it for your beloved, Gabby."
"Oh? So you've accepted Atlas then?" Gabrielle hopped on Fleur's last sentence.
"If it makes you cover your tits, sister, then yes!"
"Well, I suppose I should ask Atlas what he thinks of my outfit then. He can decide whether or not I am too 'exposed'," Gabrielle giggled.
They both turned to me and Fleur fixed me with a glare that said, "If you do not convince my sister to see reason and retain her modesty, I will make your life a living hell."
Nodding, I said, "I think you look beautiful like this, Gabrielle. That said, I do hope you'll keep such… ahem, creative… interpretations of modesty to our private times instead of public events."
Gabrielle nodded in return, agreeable once it was me asking instead of her sister, "Oui, I can do that. I shall find other ways to dazzle the public. As Fleur says, my body should be reserved for my beloved."
As if on cue, Gabrielle's dress shifted forms. It seemed to grow fabric and stretch to cover more of Gabrielle's body. It was still a fairly revealing dress but it was now much more in line with common British decency.
"Did you plan this somehow?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.
Gabrielle blushed, "Non, Luna insisted on the first dress. I insisted on having it charmed for this form as well. In case I became too embarrassed by the attention…"
Fleur threw her hands up in frustration, "Oh, of course! She listens to you! But if her dear sister asks, I may as well be talking to a brick wall!"
Dignified and serene, Gabrielle turned up her nose, "You are much more interesting to tease, sister. Though Atlas is more fun in the most carnal of ways~"
I interjected before Fleur could release the scream that seemed to be brewing inside her, "Alright, girls. That's enough 'sibling bonding' for tonight. Let's just enjoy ourselves, yeah? I owe all of you at least a couple of dances."
The mention of dancing seemed to do the trick. Gabrielle abandoned her sister in an instant, latching onto me through Septima and looking at me with hopeful eyes. Fleur slowly depressurized, going from moments away from an explosion to a quiet simmer that could sit in the back of her mind. I'm sure Gabrielle hadn't heard the end of this conversation though.
"Ahem," Aurora cleared her throat. "I believe we had first dibs? Well… second but we'll say the opening dance didn't count."
I took her hand, "Then may I have this dance, Miss Sinistra?"
She tittered, "I must insist, Mr. Black."
IIIII
The night passed, full of excitement and merriment. We danced, we laughed, and we drank. Oh, how we drank… The Ball was a resounding success. Even with multiple someones (*cough* Finnigan and the Twins *cough*) spiking the punch several times over.
The boys were caught rather quickly by the hawkish eyes of Professor McGonagall. But their early departures didn't do much to kill the mood. And, somehow, the punch bowl was never replaced with a non-alcoholic variant.
The result was to be expected. Tipsy guests having the time of their lives. With the help of magic and sobering charms, no one got drunk to the point of blacking out. Things stayed relatively under control and the mood of the Ball stayed high enough to brush the hanging chandelier.
By the end of the night, my feet were about to give out on me. I danced with Aurora. And then Septima. Then Aurora again. Then Luna and Gabrielle took their turns together in an odd but enjoyable three-way dance. Heather and Hermione got in on the fun at some point. Even some of the other staff and students in attendance took the chance to get a few moving moments alone with me.
At one point, I spun Pansy Parkinson away and let her keep spinning during our dance for calling me 'Lord Daddy'.
I remembered seeing Draco Malfoy being dipped by his statuesque date and kissed in a way that would have wooed the densest people in the world, whether they were men or women or anything in between.
Neville Longbottom and Susan Bones seemed to be dancing together quite a bit. I think they came with each other. They made for a very cute couple.
The two Gryffindor girls who chased me weeks ago were attending the Ball with the four Hufflepuff girls who caught them in their trap. They also made cute couples. Though in their case, it was more like a pair of throuples.
A sour-faced Snape danced with the male Durmstrang Professor who was pursuing him, seemingly unable to make his escape.
Daphne Greengrass had to save me from her little sister Astoria yet again at some point during the night. When she did though, there was something unusual in her eyes. Like she was measuring me for something. When combined with her flat eyes, dark makeup, and gothic dress, it made for an intimidating picture.
Still, the night had to end at some point. The Ball officially ended at midnight but there would no doubt be pockets of partying throughout the Castle until dawn. My party excused ourselves just before the official curtain call and escorted Fleur and Gabrielle to their carriage lodgings. We also escorted Luna back to my room to keep Bella company. Septima and Aurora had seemingly decided beforehand that my night wasn't over just yet.
They led me up to the Astronomy Tower, a place I assumed would be one of the persisting pockets of partying. As we climbed the final stairs to the spire, that assumption seemed as if it would be proven correct. A pair of voices echoed down the stairs as we climbed, becoming clearer and clearer as we drew near until the point that they became recognizable.
"This doesn't make any sense!" Hermione raged, sounding as confused as I'd ever heard her.
"Maybe-… Yeah, I got nothing…" Heather's voice joined Hermione's.
"Everything's already set up perfectly. And we didn't do it!"
"So someone else was planning the same thing we were? I mean, it is the Winter Solstice. It has to be a popular ritual date, right?"
"But this exact ritual?! It's not rare but it's not exactly common knowledge either. I had to order a book from Norway to find it. And it's still not something to be done lightly. It's a big commitment. Anyone who isn't in a situation very similar to ours would hesitate. Who could possibly have done this?"
Aurora cleared her throat as we came to a stop at the top of the Astronomy Tower, "That would be us. Hello, girls, I wasn't aware you'd left the Ball already."
Heather and Hermione froze like deer in headlights. They stared us down and we stared them down in return. They blinked and we blinked. Finally, having had enough, I looked around the Tower and asked the most pressing question.
"What is going on?"
The Tower's top floor had been cleared of everything it usually held. The telescopes were moved, the star charts and the tables they sat on were missing, and even the large mechanical globe structure had been temporarily displaced. In its place was what looked to be the setup for a ritual.
Concentric lines of ashes were drawn onto the floor to form an intricate ritual circle. They spiraled in and out, encompassing almost the entire top floor of the Tower. Candles had been lit and placed strategically around the space. Disks of gold and boughs of holly floated in the air as if suspended by the sheer atmosphere. The strangest thing about the setup was the mat of densely packed dirt in the center of it all.
Septima took it upon herself to explain, "Atlas dear… Surprise? This is what we had planned for the rest of this evening. Aurora requested to join the coven when she inquired about joining us for the Ball. Since it is the Winter Solstice - a very magically powerful and important night - we decided it was only fitting to make her initiation into something special. Which led to this ritual. However, it seems another pair of applicants had a very similar plan."
"Okay," I exhaled, serious and severe for a moment. "I was expecting most of that. Even Heather and Hermione trying to join. Just not the ritual or tonight specifically. So I'm not complaining. Hell, I welcome it. But humor me for a second and please, lay everything out for me. All of you."
"I quite like both you and Septima," Aurora volunteered herself to go first. "And I'm not against the type of relationship you seem to be building. So I thought I might as well throw my hat into the ring."
Heather went next… and immediately threw her best friend under the metaphorical bus, "Uh… This was Hermione's plan!"
"Heather?!" Hermione rushed to explain. "T-That's true but it's not the whole story! W-We've already established that the three of us are courting, r-right? After that moment in the Room of Requirement? And you knew we had a plan…
"Well, that partially started this summer. But it didn't develop into anything concrete until we discovered you were forming a coven. I wanted another way to protect Heather and give her the big family she's always wanted. And to join that family…
"You seemed to perfectly fit the bill. We were hoping to spring the question on you tonight. The ritual was just supposed to be a bit of extra 'profit'. It would be beneficial to everyone and I want Heather to have every advantage possible for when she inevitably faces V-Voldemort again."
"I only organized Aurora's part in all of this and her version of the ritual," Septima shrugged when the ball was passed to her. "Something that we did talk about beforehand. Things were just already more in motion than I implied."
"I remember," I nodded. "You were very calculating about the whole thing. Talking about what benefits, connections, and advantages Aurora would bring to our blossoming coven. Almost… cold, my dear."
Septima huffed at my smirk, "There was another conversation planned once we got up here. I wouldn't just force this decision on you, Atlas. You, of course, have as much final say in our coven as I do. Perhaps more since it bears your name for the moment. Well… Your old name."
"Unfortunately, it seems that both plans for tonight have been thrown into disarray…" I paused for dramatic effect. "So I might as well throw my ruined plan on the fire as well."
I couldn't help but grin and chuckle at the expressions of shock I received, "I actually recognize this ritual setup, and for good reason too. I may or may not have been planning on utilizing it tonight as well. My father sent me a book on Ritual Magic from the Black Library after I mentioned my interest in the subject.
"I don't think he mustered the courage to retrieve it himself though. He must have sent Andromeda. Which unfortunately means it's not one of the family tomes. But still, it contained this ritual and since the Winter Solstice was right around the corner, I thought I'd try it out with the coven."
Aurora and Septima blinked at that bit of information. Hermione gaped at me with an open mouth and a dropped jaw. Heather started to laugh. Slowly and softly at first, but it quickly evolved into full-blown guffaws.
"Oh, Merlin! That's too good! All of us-… All of us were trying to do THE SAME DAMN THING! We all found the same ritual and wanted to try it out on the only night available. If it was possible, I'd say this was the best prank of the century! What an absolutely odd series of coincidences!"
As the rest of us realized the humor in our current situation, we joined Heather in laughter. It really was quite ridiculous and unlikely that everything would line up like it did. If I didn't know any better, I would think something was pulling the strings behind the scenes. Eventually, we all calmed down and all that was left was for us to decide what we were doing next. To ritual or not to ritual? That was the question…
The ritual we'd all somehow stumbled upon was something of a celebration, declaration, and protection all rolled into one. It was deeply tied into Norse magical traditions and the Winter Solstice. On the darkest day of the year, the Norse would gather, celebrate, declare that the sun would rise again, and ask magic for protection until it did.
It was called 'Rebirth of the Sun' and it had a beautiful sentiment behind it. Maybe that was what grabbed all of our attention. Even in the darkest hour, people could still look forward to the light returning. Even after the fire had burned out and left nothing but ash, there would be another flame. Even when the blackest demons lurked on the fringe and threatened to invade, Mankind would endure until the rising spring sun could drive them away.
In the end, there was only one possible decision. We wouldn't get a better chance to try it out unless we wanted to wait another year for the next Winter Solstice. The ritual had already been set up. There was no point in letting it go to waste. Plus, five people was the perfect amount for this ritual…
And so, we disrobed, gathering in the center of the ritual circle. The girls took a cardinal direction each and I stood between them all as the focus of the ritual. They all lit a small flame at the tip of their wands to start the ritual. Like a pilot's light, it glowed dim and blue. I lit mine last and one by one, they added their light to mine. The Rebirth of the Sun had begun.
"In the dead of Winter's night, a fire is lit to last until sunrise," I intoned.
"We tend to the fire, maintaining its light and warmth and offering its ashes for protection from the dark," The girls joined me.
"Until the sun rises again, we frolic and live so that the night does not forget what life is," I added.
"Praise the night. Praise the dark and everything it hides from us. Praise the coming spring and the return of life. And so it does not think we abandoned it for the darkness, PRAISE THE SUN!" The girls finished.
The wind seemed to kick up as we spoke the ritual words. Darkness crept in, isolating us from the rest of the world. The candles around the Tower extinguished themselves. The only light that remained was concentrated into the flame I held at the end of my wand. It levitated upwards, leaving my wand to perch over our heads like a temporary sun.
At the very top of Hogwarts Castle, five people invoked an ancient ritual, so changed over the years that it must have been unrecognizable from what it once was. Yet the sentiment behind it remained the same. The world may be dark now, overtaken by cold Winter and black night, but the sun would return, bringing warmth, light, and life with it.
Septima stepped forward first, coming from the North. Like the first Winter's wind, she warned of the months to come. Still, she was not to be shunned lest one shunned the very change of the seasons.
A cold gust of wind rustled the flickering flame above our heads, somehow only feeding its strength. Cold hands rested on my chest. Cold lips pressed against my own. I didn't shiver or flinch away, instead meeting the coming Winter with strength of will and open arms.
Septima and I descended to the packed earth below us. Our bodies came together. I felt myself slip inside her with ease. Familiarity made us move as one, pushing and pulling each other.
Steel slid within its sheathe. Silk gripped steel, welcoming it entirely. Warmth and sensation flowed between us, rushing in and out in time with my thrusts.
I thrust down into her and she pressed herself back up into me. We lost ourselves to the pleasure of frolicking together as the ritual called for. The night watched everything we had to give, silent as ever. Over and over again, flesh came together in a celebration of fiery life.
Septima gushed around me, wet and eager. I throbbed within her like hardened steel given life. Sheer, almost unbearable heat filled our coupling. Passionate but not slow, I speared into Septima and she accepted me to her core.
Her lower lips hungrily swallowed me. Our combined pleasure built, reaching ever upwards for the peak. Nirvana came slowly and was all the more intense thanks to that pace. We peaked together, cresting our sensational waves and riding them out with held hands and moaning mouths.
I spilled myself inside her and she spilled herself around me. As we came, an almost traitorous thought invaded my mind. It persisted until I couldn't ignore it anymore. I couldn't think of a better time for it than right now.
"Should we start trying now or wait until we're married?" I whispered against Septima's lips.
She moaned louder than she did with her climax and kissed me even harder. I took that as the answer I was looking for. Still, I didn't ensure conception. But I didn't prevent it either. Thanks to a certain perk I had, I could just leave it up to chance. If it happened right now, it was meant to be. If it didn't, we'd always have more chances.
Slowly, we came apart and stood. My seed dripped down the inside of Septima's thigh. She left me with a lingering kiss and then the first of my soon-to-be girls came up for her turn.
Aurora came from the West like the last setting of the sun. Her arms wrapped around my neck and she fixed me with a grin. Still raring to go, my manhood pulsed within the press of our stomachs against each other.
"Ready, big boy~?" Aurora rasped, voice husky with desire.
I shot back a challenge, "Are you?"
Aurora gave a throaty chuckle, revealing the hint of nerves in even her easy-going nature, "Ready as I'll ever be."
"Do you want to take the lead?" I asked.
Her grin returned, just a bit shaky, "That might help."
And so, the last setting of the sun descended to the packed earth below with me underneath her. Aurora mounted me, straddling my hips and rubbing my hard cock between her buttcheeks. She felt like the last moments of light at dusk. Smooth skin, soft flesh, and sticky arousal greeted every movement I made.
Dark as sin and twice as hot, Aurora's lidded eyes looked down at me. She bent down over me, trailing her perfectly-shaped tits up my chest until her lips were level with mine. Her lower half rode upwards and mine followed, desperate to keep in contact with the wet heat that was just out of my reach.
It started with a kiss. Not on my lips but on my chin. Then another on each cheek. Even more trailing along my jawbone, over my pulse point, and down my neck. Only then did she return to my lips. And when she finally gave me a taste of what I desired, I drank greedily from the source.
Her lips pressed against mine. Our tongues roamed freely. Her hands came up to cup my cheeks and mine came up to cup her ass, pulling her into me even more.
With only a bit of fumbling, Aurora reached down and aligned me with her entrance. Slowly, she pressed backward, not breaking our kiss for a moment. My cock parted her lower lips just as my tongue parted her upper ones.
She moaned into my mouth. I returned the favor as I was engulfed by dripping satin and silk. Her inner walls hugged me. I stretched her open with one long, continuous thrust. With a grip like no other, Aurora eagerly accepted me into her deepest parts.
Fully seated inside of her, we paused. Her hips rolled, grinding my cock against her core. Mine bucked to meet her. Slow sensuality faded into passion as Aurora began to ride me.
Her core flexed around me, drawing me in even as she pulled me out of her pussy. Lower lips clutched me, almost turning themselves inside out until I thrust back into her. The process was repeated once, twice, thrice, until it was as if we couldn't stop.
Our bodies moved in sync. I filled her completely and she sucked in everything I had to give her. Her inner walls were stretched taut around a thick rod of throbbing flesh. My balls clenched as if trying to add any extra force to my thrusts that they could.
Fire flooded our veins. Musical moans were muffled by my mouth. Every muscle in my body felt like it was on the verge of snapping from tension as I spent myself thrusting as deep as possible each time. Aurora's body yielded, taking me inside with just as much fervor.
Time faded away, losing meaning in the face of pleasure and connection. Our bodies met over and over again. Our magic wasn't far behind, reaching across the increasingly close gulf between two people until we were touching in every way possible.
Aurora and I swirled around and within each other. I saw the stars. I saw the moon. I saw this wonderfully laid-back woman for everything she was and could be.
She stilled, almost definitely seeing the same about me. Buried to the hilt on top of me, Aurora Sinistra began to shudder. Her whole body shook. Her pussy quivered around me. Droplets of pleasure dripped down my shaft and she clenched down so hard I saw stars again.
I couldn't hope to resist. My body responded, balls jumping and cock pulsing as white-hot ecstasy shot up my shaft. I groaned as I spent myself inside of her. Rope after rope leaped from my cock into her core, flooding her with the same warmth I'd just spilled.
New Coven Member Initiated Coven Members (5): Septima Vector, Luna Lovegood, Gabrielle Delacour, Bellatrix Black, Aurora Sinistra
5 to Astronomy
Astronomy 385=43/100
"Welcome to the family, Aurora," I whispered in her ear.
Her shudders, having just died down, restarted. For a moment, neither of us moved. Then with a groan, Aurora began to extract herself from me. I followed, standing with her.
"Right, well, that was fun!" Aurora grinned, still a little shaky on her feet. "Good luck, girls. I think I need to sit down…"
As Aurora retreated, Hermione stepped up to me like the first warm winds from the South. She smiled up at me, as nervous as she'd ever been. I returned the smile, trying to reassure her that everything would be fine.
"I-I'd like it if you took control, P-Professor…" Hermione stuttered.
"I can do that," I said calmly to put her further at ease. "And call me Atlas, Hermione. You're about to join our family. It's the least you could do."
"Y-Yes, P-Professor Atlas~!" Hermione squeaked.
Sighing, I changed tactics, "You're such a good girl, Hermione, you know that? So brave. So loyal. ~So smart~. I'm lucky to have you in my life, in my coven. We all are."
Hermione moaned at the praise, practically collapsing into me. I supported her as I lowered us both down to the packed earth below. She held onto me tightly and I didn't even have the chance to let her go.
"M-More~ P-P-Please…?" Hermione panted.
"Such an intelligent girl~" I cooed to her as I lined myself up. "Brightest Witch of Her Generation is underselling your talents. You can do anything you put your mind to. You could conquer the Wizarding world and I'd be right behind you the whole way. I'm so proud of you, Hermione~ Good girl~"
I slid inside her easily as I spoke, splitting her around my girth. Her head snapped back as she stretched. Her mouth fell open but no sound came out. When I called her 'good girl', her legs snapped closed around my waist, pulling me the rest of the way inside her. Finally, she made noise. A drawn-out, keening moan filled my ears.
I could feel her insides fluttering around me. Her muscles tensed. I couldn't move an inch within her embrace. Instead, I simply held her, stroking her hair as she rode out a monstrous climax.
She whined and whimpered when I finally began to move. In and out, I slowly sheathed myself inside Hermione and withdrew. I set a constant pace, steadily fucking her until I set all of her nerves on fire. Through it all, I cooed even more praise into her ear.
"Good~ Good girl~ You're taking me so well. You're so tight, so wet, so eager~ That's it. Pull me in with those thick thighs~ Can you feel me? Here? What about here? Tell me how good you feel~"
"Oh, oh oh oh oh oh, Merlin and Morgana~!" Hermione was almost sobbing with the overwhelming sensation of it all. "So good~! So so so so so good~! I'm gonna cum again! Oh, don't stop~! Never stop~! Atlaaaaaaasssssssss~!"
Her whole body shook. Thick, plump, surprisingly strong thighs clamped around my waist, trying desperately to hold me inside of her. I pressed through her grip and continued to fuck her into the floor. Cries of ecstasy filled my ears, ringing beautifully within the ritual space.
Her fingers clawed at my back. I smothered her keening moans with a kiss. She threw herself into the embrace with everything she had. Hermione came again, her clit trapped against my pelvis and my cockhead grinding deep within her depths.
With her last orgasm, her magic let me in. She smelled of old books and parchment and ink and the pure joy of mastering something new.
A desperation for approval filled her, one that my magic did its best to satisfy. On the tail end of her last orgasm, she went stiff again. My magic, my approval, rushed into her being, filling her to completion just like I was doing in the physical world.
"Good~ girl~" I cooed one last time, letting myself release inside of her.
My essence flooded into her, battering any defenses that remained to dust. Wave after wave, the torrent of cum filled Hermione's womb to the brim until it began to leak out around my girth. I left her packed oh-so-full and practically insensate.
She twitched, clinging to me as I stood. Tight around me, her arms and legs supported her position. I was barely allowed to move an inch inside of her. Like that, I looked to Septima for a bit of help. Thankfully, she heeded my unspoken call.
"Come on now, child. It's time to let go. The ritual isn't finished just yet," Septima coaxed Hermione off of me. "Let your new coven support you, Hermione."
Slowly and with a whimper, Hermione allowed herself to be extracted from me. Septima supported her as she stood on shaky legs. The evidence of our joining dripped from her core and could be seen in the way she wobbled into Septima's arms.
New Coven Member Initiated Coven Members (6): Septima Vector, Luna Lovegood, Gabrielle Delacour, Bellatrix Black, Aurora Sinistra, Hermione Granger
3 to Teaching
Teaching 473=50/100
Heather - the final participant of the ritual - smirked at me, coming from the East like the first sunrise of spring. Behind her, the first rays of dawn light could be seen peeking over the horizon.
Time had lost all meaning and the ritual had proceeded apace, lasting until we could greet the sunrise as it was supposed to. The temporary sun above our heads was on its last legs. Its purpose was nearly spent, providing us with just enough light to see the morning creeping up on us.
"You know, you're kind of scary, Atlas. Leaving a poor young girl in a sorry state like that? Ooooh~ It gives me ~shivers~" Heather purred.
"Having second thoughts?" I asked, just to be sure.
Heather blinked, "What? No. I want to do this even more now that I've seen what you're capable of!"
I paused and then nodded, "Yep, that makes perfect sense when it comes to you, Heather. How would you prefer to do this?"
"Hmm…" Heather pretended to think for a moment before grinning. "Surprise me~"
"I can do that. Accio Heather's hair."
"Wait wait wait! Give me a second! I wasn't read-YYYYYYY~!"
I ignored Heather's giggling squeal. She landed within my reach and I fisted my hand in her hair, making her crane her head back to look up at me. My other hand grasped her hip, pulling her flush against my body.
Heather did her best to smirk despite the blush on her cheeks, "C-Careful with the hair, Teach~"
Ignoring her lackluster attempt at conversation, I ground myself against her outer core. With bent knees, my cock slid between her legs and smothered her clit. Heather moaned, striving to look down. I briefly let her.
Still trying to hide her excited nerves, Heather giggled, "Think this thing can hold me all on its own?"
"Why don't we find out?"
My arm wrapped around her waist, lifting her up while Heather squeaked. I stood to my full height, holding Heather a good distance off the ground.
Level with me now, Heather stared into my eyes. Her gaze darted down to my lips. I kissed her soundly, silencing any more unnecessary comments before they could come out of her mouth.
Heather's eyes fluttered closed as she kissed me back. Strong, flexible legs came up to encircle my waist, locking together behind my back. If it weren't for our limbs supporting her, Heather would have looked like she was perched atop just my dick. I felt myself harden further at the thought.
As if hearing my thoughts and taking them to their logical conclusion, Heather used those legs of hers to wrench herself up my body until my tip was poking between her lower lips. All the while, she never broke our kiss. We worked together to begin lowering her onto the thick shaft that supported her.
Tight. Oh-so-tight. I'd never felt anything as tight as Heather. She was all dense, smooth muscles and copious amounts of lubrication. I slid inside her. Every inch of my cock felt as if it was caught within a vise.
I groaned, forcing her farther down my cock. That was the only way to describe the process. I had to fight for every inch of progress I made inside of her. Heather's inner walls clamped around me, resisting the stretch. But her eager moans drove me onward.
After what felt like hours but must have been minutes, I fully hilted myself inside Heather. Her entire lower half squeezed around me, from her legs to the walls of her pussy.
Heather shuddered, breaking our kiss and burying her face in the crock of my shoulder. She mewled there and nipped at my flesh as her hips tried to grind me impossibly deeper.
Hands wrapping almost all the way around her slender waist, my hips bucked. Heather moved with me, quickly coming to bounce on my cock. Up and down, she rode me in mid-air. Her strong core tensed around me as I pistoned myself deep each time.
Heather panted into the skin of my throat, still somehow conscious enough to try and tease, "I-Is t-that all you g-got~? C-C'mon, Teach~ I can take it~"
For some reason, her teasing made me growl. It might have had something to do with the fact that after she said that, she latched onto my neck with teeth and hungry lips, trying to leave a hickey for the world to see.
Regardless, I reacted. I fell to my knees, doing my best to keep the pace of my thrusts as I did. Using my grip on her waist, I put Heather's back to the dirt below us. Then with more than a little bit of effort, I extracted her legs from around my waist and tested her flexibility by putting them over my shoulders.
Heather squeaked and then laughed as she was manhandled, "That's more like it~! Give it to me good, Atlas~!"
I fucked myself down into Heather in this new mating press position. I fucked her so hard that I came up off my knees, planting my feet to give myself more leverage. My quads and butt burned as I repeatedly put my whole body weight into my thrusts.
Heather's head snapped back onto the dirt and her eyes snapped closed. She moaned, loudly and carefreely declaring her pleasure to the world. Her legs flexed over my shoulder and I was sure her toes were curling.
She was so hot. So wet. So unbelievably tight. Her insides coiled around me, trying desperately to squeeze everything out of me. Sticky trails of fluid followed my every movement. Buns of steel weathered my thrusts until Heather's butt began to turn pink. Her tits jiggled, barely contained by her legs in this position.
As the sun started to peek over the horizon, Heather and built to the final climaxes of the night. Flesh clapped against flesh. Puffy pussy lips were split open and stretched. A sensitive spot of nerves on the top of Heather's entrance, opposite her clit, was ground to dust with each thrust. Her internal muscles spasmed and twitched around me until something broke within both of us.
With twin groans of ecstasy, we came. We came and came. Heather's magic accepted me alongside the flood of my essence. Mine did the same for hers. Danger, luck, and broken fate seemed to swirl around us.
New Coven Member Initiated Coven Members (7): Septima Vector, Luna Lovegood, Gabrielle Delacour, Bellatrix Black, Aurora Sinistra, Hermione Granger, Heather Potter
4 to Luck
Luck 454=49/100
Ritual Completed
New Perk Unlocked
Winter's Chosen: You Are One of Winter's Chosen, Meant to See the World Into a New Spring, 5 to All Stats
Body 385=43/100, Mind 465=51/100, Soul 415=46/100
Unexpected Consequences Detected
Due to the Ritual (Rebirth of the Sun) and the Newly Established Coven Bond, Heather Potter's Connection to ??? Has Been Smothered by Winter's Darkness
I blinked. What the actual Hell? Instead of basking in the afterglow, I looked around as if expecting the 'Unexpected Consequences' to make themselves known. Imagine my surprise when they did.
Away from all of us, something had materialized within the Astronomy Tower. It was horrific. An ugly thing that looked and felt like an affront to magic and nature. It was as if something had taken a fetus and twisted it past the point of recognition. The fetus lay there, huddled in on itself as if the very world was burning it until it started to cry.
Its cries attracted the attention of the others. I was the first to find words for what we were witnessing.
"What the Hell is that?!"
"I don't know but I kinda really want to kill it," Heather responded.
"T-That cannot be natural…" Hermione stuttered, having taken the time I was with Heather to recover somewhat.
"It's like it took this form to try and gain sympathy… Some kind of survival instinct? A Magical Creature perhaps?" Septima mused.
"Wait, did that thing come from me?! My scar's bleeding! It… It only does that around Voldemort…" Heather shuddered in disgust. The rest of us weren't far behind.
"What an abomination…" Aurora added her two cents. "If there were ever a baby I would stop, it would be that thing."
"I don't think it's actually a baby," Hermione said. "Like Professor Vector said. I think it just took that form."
"Kill it," Heather decided, stone-faced as our still-connected state was forgotten for the moment. "Kill it with fire."
As if on cue, the first rays of morning light reached the top of the Astronomy Tower not a moment later. They crept across the floor toward the twisted fetus. The instant they made contact, the fetus let out an ungodly screech. Purged by light and whatever remained of our ritual, the fetus began to smoke and burn to ash.
"Well…" Heather said once there was nothing left but white ash. "That takes care of that problem… So who's up for round two?"
I looked at her incredulously, "How can you possibly still be horny?"
"Hey! I only got one orgasm. Hermione got at least three! Round two seems only fair to me," Heather defended herself.
Seeing the considering looks on Septima and Hermione's faces and the grin on Aurora's, I knew this wasn't a battle I was going to win. I groaned, feeling my body protest. Stay strong, Little Atlas. Just think of this as another form of the Grind…
26: Consequences of Yule
The consequences of the coven's Yule were wide-reaching, though most went unnoticed by those involved. There were the direct effects of the ritual Atlas and his coven performed. And then there were the effects of that ritual's effects…
The five participants of the Rebirth of the Sun experienced all the benefits promised by the ritual. They were Winter's Chosen. A title that was not exclusive to them but still granted advantages that they would not have had if they had not participated. They were not even the only ones at Hogwarts who received that title this Winter. A pair of Durmstrang students - one of whom could be called 'Champion' - also performed the Rebirth of the Sun that Winter's Solstice.
Regardless, for this Winter, the five of them joined the niche group of Witches and Wizards who would herald the return of the Spring sun.
A chilly wind followed where they walked. Overcast clouds could be seen in their eyes. If one looked closely enough, they might even catch the barest sprinkle of snowflakes in their movements.
To be put into tangible terms - ones that could be understood by those used to reading a certain System -, the title of Winter's Chosen and its corresponding ritual granted physical, mental, and magical boosts to the five of them. They were boons, protection from the cold darkness of Winter so that the chosen may last until the season changed.
It was also a responsibility, for Winter could not act on its own. They did not act for it, per se, simply speaking in the season's name. The five of them were tuned into the naturally potent, magical concept of the coldest and darkest times of the year. A sensitivity that made itself apparent the very next day when they could feel that afternoon's snow before it clouded the horizon.
But what went unnoticed was arguably more important than the ritual and its granted boons. Heather found herself feeling more whole in the wake of the ritual. Her scar closed up and quickly began to fade. Her world felt smoother and less strained in the most imperceptible of ways.
Far away from Hogwarts in a rundown shack of a mansion, a twisted magical construct writhed in naked pain. So similar to the 'fetus' purged by the coven's ritual, it cursed existence itself. The loss of something essential, a sliver of itself, plagued its every waking moment. An icy chill weighed heavily on the creature that used to be Human, augmented by a soft warmth that burned its shattered soul like nothing else. Only a rat and a snake answered the creature's tortured cries.
Even farther away, the sound of cracking could be heard in a chamber deep below a major metropolitan area. An opaque orb - one of thousands - showed hairline fractures as fate broke around it. One could say the fractures were almost… 'Systemic'. No one noticed this change. Surely, it couldn't be that important…
IIIII
Winter's break had come to Hogwarts and despite the lull in lessons, I had the feeling I was going to be very busy. Well… it was less of a feeling and more of a certainty.
There was no other outcome to having seven Witches in my life. And that wasn't even including my promise to take Heather to Gringotts or the Black family reunion that was scheduled for the break.
The day after the Yule Ball was a rest day for the entire Castle. I would say it was almost normal if that word wasn't an oxymoron when it came to my life. Still, Heather, Hermione, and Aurora were integrating themselves into the coven well (read: being doted upon by Bella and Luna). Something I was beyond thankful for at the moment. It gave me a chance to recover from last night's ritual and gather enough energy to go see Dumbledore about a few things.
Surprisingly, I didn't find him in his office. The gargoyle in front of his office informed me that he was out at the moment. My next idea was a Patronus Message and it didn't take long for him to respond that way.
"I'm down by the Lake, Atlas. Come join me. The weather is wonderful," The ghostly phoenix said in Dumbledore's voice.
The weather was most certainly not wonderful. But there would be no telling Dumbledore that. And so I trudged through the inch or so of still-snowing snow to meet him by the Black Lake.
Thankfully, Dumbledore was as impossible to miss as always. Today, he was wearing a robe that almost hurt to look at. Not in the way that it was too bright or garish. But in the eldritch-horror sense…
Tentacles reached up his back and down his front. Eyes blinked in and out of existence. Mouths with too many teeth licked their lips. The thing was an affront to existence and good sense so, of course, Dumbledore wore it proudly.
"My god, man, are you trying to blind people with Eldritch truth?" I asked as I approached Dumbledore on the shore of the Lake.
"Oh? Do you like it? It's new. A masterful bit of crafting and charmwork too. It was made by an intern at Twilfitt and Tattings recently. I believe he was found in his flat the day after it was finished, trying to make some kind of tome out of his blood and skin. The story was wonderfully macabre enough to catch my interest and I purchased the robe right away," Dumbledore smiled as if he hadn't just explained the beginning of a H.P. Lovecraft novel.
"Albus…" I said flatly, trying to avoid looking at the robe as much as possible. "Never… ever… wear that robe again. I'm already half-convinced that it's an entrance method for an Eldritch God to invade our plane of existence. Actually, just burn it now."
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled mischievously, "It's nothing like that. Don't worry. I already checked. Quite thoroughly. The robe itself was merely a stroke of cosmic inspiration. And I made sure the Department of Mysteries knew about a potential Eldritch breach. The Unspeakables will take care of the rest. That is their job, after all."
That was more worrying than it was comforting, "Does… Does this sort of thing happen often?"
"Hmm, let me answer your question with a question, Atlas. Where do you think the Veil of Death leads to?"
"Are you implying that we feed our prisoners and criminals to some vague, unknowable Eldritch God?"
"Well… It's certainly never been confirmed to be false."
"That is terrifying… But considering some of the Death Eaters, I'm surprisingly okay with that."
"Do not worry yourself too much. As far as we can tell, it is a one-way street. Still, smarter and more callous people than I figured it was a good idea to keep whatever is waiting on the other side sated and entertained just in case."
"Again, that is a terrifying concept. Thank you for introducing me to it, Albus…" I paused as a revelation entered my mind. "Oh, Merlin… What about Dementors?"
Dumbledore adopted a considering expression, "I'll be honest, Atlas, I've never approached them from this angle. I suppose it is possible that they are the remnants of an ancient Eldritch breach. Though, it is just as likely that they are Fae-like creatures of misery and suffering."
"Is that any better?"
"No. Very much no. Eldritch and Fae are two sides of the same coin. One is simply unknowable by choice instead of by nature."
"This isn't even what I meant to talk to you about but now I can't stop thinking about Magical Creatures and their potential origins," Shuddering, I tried to change the subject. "What are you even doing out here in the cold, Albus?"
That damnable twinkle returned to his eyes, "Why, feeding Jimothy, of course."
That answer didn't explain much, "Jimothy?"
Dumbledore waved off my question, "Oh, I'm sure you know him. You've just never heard his name before. I actually took inspiration from my new robe for this activity. He must be so lonely now that students don't visit the Lake due to the weather."
My growing premonition was quickly proven correct when a giant tentacle breached the surface of the Lake, waving at us. Soon enough, an eye as wide as I was tall joined it. It crinkled at us like it was smiling, despite the fact that it didn't have an eyebrow… or even an eyelid.
As always with Dumbledore, I felt like the only thing I could do was go with the flow of things. He walked over to a conveniently placed rock on the shore and I followed him, sitting down when he did. Then he produced a whole loaf of store-bought bread from somewhere within the abomination he called a robe and began banishing it to the squid in the Lake. After a moment or two, I shrugged and joined him.
"If you did not come to discuss the still mostly theoretical origins of Magical Creatures and Magic in general, what did you come to talk to me about, Atlas?" Dumbledore asked.
"Right," I snapped my fingers as I was reminded of my original purposes. "I need permission to take a student off the Castle grounds at some point this break. I promised Heather we would visit Gringotts."
Dumbledore nodded, "Granted. It is good to see young Heather finally taking an interest in her heritage. She never broached the subject before and I was starting to get worried she was purposefully shunning that part of herself because of bad experiences with Pure-Blood rhetoric."
I looked at him strangely, "She didn't know about her heritage until the Line Theft incident. Not a clue."
Dumbledore was shocked by that news, "Truly? Oh my… That is concerning. I was so sure she was simply taking her time to process things in her own way…"
"This is what happens when you assume something and never even think to confirm it," I sighed.
"Yes, 'tis my folly," Dumbledore chuckled. "Even at my age, it seems some mistakes are just Human nature."
"Thankfully, it's not too late. Heather knows now. I'll be taking her to see her heritage before lessons start back up. It will let me do the same as well. Though that little… adventure will likely have to wait until I've met with Narcissa and gotten a rundown on House Black's current situation," I had no qualms with explaining my plans to Dumbledore.
"Will I see you at the New Year's Wizengamot session?" Dumbledore cheerfully inquired as he banished a slice of bread straight into Jimothy's beak.
"Merlin, I hope not," I shuddered. "I'm thinking of pawning that responsibility off on Narcissa or another proxy. I'd rather spend my time on something actually productive. After that farce of a trial, I don't believe the Wizengamot qualifies…"
"You'll have to attend at least one session to have your position recognized and appoint that proxy," Dumbledore pointed out. "Also, some of this upcoming session will be dedicated to deciding the fate of your parents. You may want to attend for that reason as well."
I groaned, "Only a month and I'm already starting to hate the pomp and circumstance surrounding my new position."
Dumbledore chuckled, "Wait until your first high society social event. They're unavoidable and oh-so tedious at times. The matchmaking attempts alone… Well, let's just say I'm glad to be perceived as too old for most. Not even homosexuality could save me from those attempts in my prime…"
I glanced at him… 'queerly'… out of the corner of my eye, "You know, I don't think I've run into that topic in the magical world. How is homosexuality seen by Witches and Wizards?"
He sighed, "That… is a complicated question. It is not so much discriminated against as it is shunned and kept out of the public eye."
"Like covens?"
"Somewhat. Like with covens, it is treated as an intensely personal and private matter. A homosexual relationship may not be openly declared but it is not uncommon to see Witches or Wizards with life-long 'roommates' - so to say.
"Of course, continuing the bloodline is an important issue within Wizarding society. But so long as an heir is provided, most do not look too closely at the rest of the relationship. It's not a perfect arrangement but it could most certainly be worse."
He fell silent after that. His expression was momentarily lost to memories. Even as he reminisced, bread was still absently flung to the giant squid Jimothy. Like an old Muggle man in the park feeding ducks.
I let him think in silence for a little while. But something still lingered on my mind. Something that only Dumbledore could likely answer. He'd lived a long and eventful life, after all. Surely, he's seen something like… that thing. That impossibly grotesque fetus.
"Albus," I broke the comfortable silence. "I have a question. A concern, really."
He came back to me with a smile, "Ask away, my friend."
"Last night… was eventful for me and several others. We may or may not have performed a ritual to celebrate the Winter Solstice. It went well. But it ended with something none of us were expecting…"
His eyes twinkled knowingly, "Ah, yes… Winter's Chosen?"
I looked at him in surprise, "How did you know?"
"I recognized some of the familiar side-effects. Did you know you currently smell like snow and ice?"
"I… did not. I didn't even know the ritual's effect would be perceivable to others. Or that 'snow and ice' had a distinct smell."
"Oh, it's not especially noticeable. It's also a bit more esoteric than a physical scent. But those who are sensitive and familiar with the Rebirth of the Sun might catch a whiff every once and a while."
I paused to absorb that information, "… Moving along… As you can tell, the ritual itself went well. But after Heather's 'turn', something happened. Some kind of 'creature' appeared, only to be burnt to ash moments later.
"It was an ugly, twisted thing. So dark it almost hurt to look at. Like… Like a Dementor's ugly cousin in the form of a fetus. Or some kind of incomplete magical leech. Seemingly just being near the thing made Heather's scar split open. It was disgusting and I find myself utterly clueless as to what it really was."
Dumbledore hummed, "Heather's scar, you say? Hmm… Could it be…? Manic magical misfortune, yes! Atlas, I could kiss you!"
I'd never seen him so openly excited about something but still, I blanched at that idea, "Please don't. I'm not sure Septima would ever forgive me. Or kiss me again for that matter."
My deadpan delivery didn't seem to shake Dumbledore's excitement, "Hahaha! Of all things, I never thought it would come down to something as simple as a ritual! Eat shit, Tom!"
"Wait, what?!" I had to do a doubletake at his cursing. "Merlin, Albus, what is going on?"
He laughed as if a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders, "You've given me the single greatest Christmas present I could have asked for! This is extraordinary and unexpected, Atlas! It confirms a theory of mine. One with worrying implications. But it also brings Voldemort two steps closer to his final demise!"
"V-Voldemort…? What do you-… No… Heather?" I went pale.
"I'm afraid so, my friend. But worry not. You've seemingly fixed the issue without even knowing about it!" Dumbledore reassured me as he saw my face. "Oh dear… Perhaps I should start at the beginning."
"I think that would be for the best. Quickly. Before I decide to find Heather and lock her in a room so she can never be hurt again."
"Well, it all started with this wonderful explosion the Muggles have calculated-…"
"Albus!"
He smirked before sobering dramatically, "Very well. I'm afraid this will not be a heartwarming story. It all really started with a young boy with an upbringing that was remarkably similar to yours, Atlas. A boy named Tom Riddle…"
IIIII
I stumbled back to my room, bearing the weight of Dumbledore's story. The weight of his sins and mistakes. The weight of a terribly troubled boy who grew into a monster. The weight of knowing something so important about Heather's life that she didn't even know herself.
Not that it would stay that way. Heather deserved to know about the prophecy. Even if it might possibly be broken now that the potential 'Horcrux' in her scar had been taken care of. She still deserved to know why Voldemort was after her. That the monster had ruined her life over a prophecy from Sybill Trelawney of all people.
Though I was hesitant to tell her about the Horcrux. It was already taken care of. And I didn't want to burden her with the trauma of knowing that she'd had a piece of Voldemort's soul stuck to her for most of her life. What she didn't know couldn't hurt her. Especially now that the damnable thing was ashes in the wind.
I barged into my room and collapsed into my Lazy Boy chair, ignoring the rest of my coven for the moment. My eyes closed and I let out a tortured sigh. Thank Merlin for the little things in life like upholstered leather and overstuffed stuffing.
The chair shifted as a body sat down on its arm, leaning onto my body. From the lean muscle and small frame, I knew who it was without opening my eyes.
"Hello, Heather."
"Hey, Teach. How'd your talk with Dumbledore go?"
"Terrifying," I sighed. "I'm pretty sure I'm scarred for life in multiple ways now."
"That's okay!" Luna cheerfully exclaimed, mounting the chair's opposite armrest. "Scars are cool!"
"Aren't you overreacting slightly?" Hermione asked, obviously not believing my words.
I remembered Dumbledore's new robe and the story behind them, and shuddered, "No… No, I'm not. The tentacles… The tentacles, Hermione!"
"My god! What did you two do?!" Hermione gasped, disgusted by the vehemence in my tone.
"Fed the giant squid in the Black Lake," I deadpanned.
My delivery got giggles and Hermione scowled at me, "Oh, do grow up, Atlas. Jimothy is perfectly harmless."
That just made Heather laugh harder, "Jimothy?! And why do you even know the name of the giant squid, Hermione?"
Hermione sniffed, turning up her nose at us, "It's in Hogwarts, a History."
I blinked, "Before or after the intensely erotic adventures of the Founders?"
"Before, of course. Though he is mentioned after as well… For… obvious reasons."
"That makes sense. It's been a while but I remember the second half of that book really as entirely different from the first. Much more enjoyable though. I feel like the characters really began to pop once we'd seen them naked and bent into a pretzel while they took two fat cocks."
"Wait, wait! Hogwarts, a History is smutty?!" Heather asked with an extremely baffled expression on her face.
All of us looked at her like she was the weird one for not knowing. Hogwarts, a History (the second half of the book, at least) was just about the raunchiest thing I'd ever read. And that was before the stuff with Helga Hufflepuff and the centaur came up…
Hermione rolled her eyes, "You would know that if you ever bothered to try reading it. And it's not smutty. It's educational. There's a difference."
Heather gaped at us as if her entire world had been turned upside down. Well, I might as well pile onto that shock while I could. I mean… I could wait until the opportune time and break the prophecy news gently. But where was the fun in that? This way, it was like ripping off a bandage and Heather could lean on all of us to help her process the news.
"Uh, Heather?" I said, changing the subject off Hogwarts, a History. "There was something Dumbledore and I talked about. Something that relates closely to you. Did you know you're the subject of a prophecy?"
Thankfully, Heather could roll with the punches rather well. She snorted, "No but it wouldn't surprise me one bit. Might even explain my luck. Let me guess, 'Fated to defeat the big bad Dark Lord' or something?"
"Yeah…" I nodded, hesitating slightly before forging ahead. "Voldemort. It's this whole thing and why he went after you and your family in the first place.
"He marked you as his equal. You're fated to defeat him or die trying. You'll have a 'power he knows not'… Though Dumbledore and I think that 'die trying' bit has been derailed thanks to some things I don't really want to get into at the moment."
Heather huffed, leaning further into me and basically sliding into my lap, "Figures. God, what a wanker…"
I wrapped an arm around her, "Too true. Try not to worry too much. You've got the coven on your side now. And Dumbledore - the only Wizard Voldemort ever feared. We've already broken fate once. We'll figure out how to deal with this."
"Though…" I said leadingly. "There was one thing about the whole 'prophecy situation' that I thought might tickle your sense of humor. Apparently, the original prophecy was given by - wait for it -… Sybill Trelawney."
"That hack?!" Hermione let out a shrill shriek that seemed to have been building since I mentioned the prophecy. "She probably just made it up when she was on a bender then! This-! This is shite! Bullshite!"
"Language, Hermione," Heather giggled, utterly amused as the tension of 'fate' was dissolved by her best friend's rare cursing.
Hermione was left fuming and Heather was suitably distracted. Which, I thought, was for the best. The uncomfortable implications of prophecy ruling her life, since she was born, could wait until everyone was a little bit less than sober.
It wasn't like the prophecy told Heather anything she didn't already know. She'd already faced Voldemort three times in her life (soon to be four if my quest for the tournament was to be trusted). The prophecy only gave those frequent confrontations a reason and told us to start preparing.
The hardest part was already done. The Horcrux in Heather's scar was no more. She would not have to die to destroy it. And she wasn't alone, despite the fact the prophecy said only she could defeat him. She had multiple brilliant Witches, one of the greatest Wizards to ever live, and a Gamer on her side. In all likelihood…? Voldemort was fucked.
IIIII
"Look at him, Cissy! Isn't he just oh-so-precious?! Isn't he?! Squeeeeeeeee~! Look, look! He's noticed us~!"
"You came together, Bella," Narcissa replied flatly. "Of course, he's noticed us."
I tried my best to smile at Tonks and her mother like nothing was wrong. To be honest, though? A little embarrassment was a small price to pay to see Bella this happy.
Spoiler: Andromeda Tonks
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Bella, Tonks, and I had come to Malfoy Manor the day before New Year's Eve for what I'd tentatively dubbed the Black Family Reunion. When we arrived, we were greeted by Narcissa, Andromeda, Sirius, and Draco of all people.
I wasn't expecting to see my promising but annoying student here and he clearly wasn't expecting me either. He was home for the Yule Break, though, and so had naturally been roped into our 'reunion'. He seemed content to spend most of his time alternating between glaring at me and sulking in the corner of the Malfoy sitting room. It was almost cute in that moody, teenage sort of way.
"I know~" Bella whined. "He's just soooooooo~ perfect~! Everything he does gives me life. Haaaaaaaahhhh~… My baby boy~"
My smile strained. Andromeda acted as if she didn't notice, no doubt used to her middle sister's eccentricities. Tonks just smirked at me. Sirius was trying to stay as far away from Bella as possible. I didn't think there was any bad blood between them. I think Sirius was just rightfully terrified of Bella.
Good lord… We'd barely even started and already the tangled web of relationships I now called a family was making my brain hurt. Sirius and Bella had hooked up to make me but they weren't actually together. Bella herself was both the woman who birthed me and a member of my coven.
Narcissa was my aunt…? Cousin…? And yet I'd also killed her husband. Draco… I was simultaneously his Lord, teacher, cousin, and the man who killed his father. Andromeda and Tonks were the most normal familial relations I had, and even then, I was still Tonks' 1.5 times removed cousin or something stupid like that.
Forget a circle, the Black family tree had to look like a spider's web. Thank Merlin for magic keeping the effects of inbreeding to a minor inconvenience. Something I'd been able to confirm rather easily. It seemed Pure-Bloods were quick to defend their circular family practices and had spent a lot of time researching the interactions of magical incest. I wonder why…
"You must be quite proud of yourself, Atlas," Andromeda said, pulling my attention off of Bella and Narcissa. "Accomplishing so much as a presumed orphan is no small feat. You didn't have your name or blood status to rely on. Instead, you proved yourself through merits and ability alone."
I smiled sheepishly, "I didn't know anything else until recently. And I don't think my newly revealed heritage really changes anything. I worked hard to get where I am. If people suddenly treat me differently, that's their problem, not mine."
Andromeda nodded, "That's exactly what I'm talking about. You had nothing else to fall back on. And that just makes what you've done with your life all the more impressive. I'm proud to call you family, even if I cannot call you my Lord."
I looked at her queerly, "Would you want to? Call me your Lord, I mean."
Andromeda glanced at her sisters as Bella glomped Narcissa, "I certainly would not say no. Now that our prejudiced parents are no longer in the picture, I think I would like to be able to call myself a Black again."
"Consider it done," I was quick to agree. "Though hopefully, I won't have that power for long. I'm hoping Sirius will take up the Black Lordship once his name is properly cleared. I'm already the Lord of three other Houses. I don't need to add the Black House to that number just yet."
Sirius whined from the corner of the room, "Aww, shit."
"What are you complaining about, Mutt? You get to be Lord Black!" Draco snapped at him.
Sirius just continued sulking, "I know… That's the problem. I get to be Lord Black. Responsibility is bullshit…"
"Imagine all of the pranks you could pull with that power though," Tonks stage-whispered to Sirius, making his eyes light up suddenly with the possibilities.
Ignoring that byplay, Andromeda's eyes seemed to see right through me, "You'd give up power that easily?"
"I'm more than content to be heir in this situation," I shrugged. "Hell, I'm hoping to appoint proxies to my other three Lordships as well. My plate is full enough with teaching and helping Heather survive a death tournament."
"That was something I hoped to talk to you about, Milord," Narcissa said, making me jump slightly as she seemed to silently appear beside me.
Bella was still practically hanging off of her sister, "Oooooh~, 'Milord'… I love it~! So perfect for my perfect baby boy~!"
"It's just family here, Narcissa. You can call me Atlas."
"Very well, Atlas. I wish to inquire about your future plans for the political sphere. You now wield a tremendous amount of power and you've been wronged by prominent members of our society. Our whole family has been wronged. You could - and should - make our enemies' lives into a living hell."
I blinked, "I wouldn't know the first place to start with exacting political revenge."
Narcissa smirked dangerously, "I suspected as much. Luckily, you will have plenty of help. Even just one of your Houses could stir up major trouble for the Dark Faction, Fudge, and his lackey. To say nothing about the weight the Malfoy and Black names wield or the combined leverage of all four Houses."
That caught my interest, "Well… I would like to see Fudge and his toady plummet from grace. And blood purists could always do with being taken down a notch or two. I knew I wielded a lot of power now but I didn't know how to leverage it."
"Leave that to me, Atlas~" Narcissa purred, sounding almost aroused by the idea of throwing around my political weight like that. "I'll leave your enemies penniless, destitute, and suicidal. The Wizarding World will once again cower before the House of Black."
Slightly unnerved by her passion, I said, "Right… We'll have to set some ground rules. I don't want to hear about you supporting blood purist nonsense. Or even toeing the line, for that matter. Be radical. Turn the whole Wizengamot on its head. Make sure shit actually changes."
Narcissa smirked at me as if my idea was quaint, "I've never been on the side against tradition. That will certainly make things interesting at the very least."
"Well, you are now," I firmly asserted. "Consider yourself the patron saint of Muggle-borns, Half-Bloods, and sentient Magical Creatures. If there's even a hint of prejudice, discrimination, or corruption in the motion, oppose it."
"You'll ruin our whole society!" Draco protested. "You don't even know what you'll be ruining-…"
"No…" Narcissa shushed her son. "No, I can work with this. It might even be… fun~"
The smile that followed was the most genuine one I'd seen on Narcissa's face. It was almost concerning and for a moment, I felt bad for the blood purists I was siccing her on. Then that moment passed and I snorted.
"Yeah, have fun. Go crazy. As long as you're fighting the good fight, I won't stop you. And anything you need, you'll have. Make Fudge bleed. Make Umbridge cry. Make the whole Wizengamot question their reality that the Pure-Blood princess Narcissa Malfoy nee Black is fighting for Muggle-born and Creature rights."
Narcissa's smile grew vicious and calculating, "I'll need to be appointed as the proxy for your Houses so people know I speak with your voice. Not House Parkinson though. I can work with Phoebe Parkinson. In fact, I think she'll enjoy this little experiment as much as I will.
"I'll still need your signature for things every once and a while too. That bridge can be burned when we get to it though. I may need certain insurance and privileges as well. Nothing extreme. Access to the family vaults. We'll want to clean Yaxley out quickly so she doesn't try to undermine us."
"Done. I can do that when I visit Gringotts soon. What 'insurance' do you need?" I asked.
"Oh, just a bit of protection from the usual. Assassination attempts, libel and slander, kidnapping, etc. The Manor's wards are top notch but outside of them, I won't always be safe," Narcissa nonchalantly explained.
"You expect things to escalate so quickly?"
She tittered behind her hand at my naivety, "They've already begun, Atlas. I happen to know the former Lord Flint currently has an attempt on your life in the works."
"I'll kill him!" Bella hissed.
Narcissa absently patted her sister on the head, "The company Lucius kept will not take lightly to my change of agenda. Neither will Fudge, though I am less worried about anything he can cook up. The Dark Faction, however… they could easily see me dead or wishing I was dead."
I was still slightly reeling from the news that I had someone trying to assassinate me. I knew I'd deeply wronged Flint but… No, actually this wasn't surprising at all. Of course, the darker Pure-Bloods would be well used to using force to get their way.
"Bella won't allow you to come to harm, Atlas," Narcissa continued. "But I am not lucky enough to have such a potent attack dog forever by my side."
I hummed, "Hmm… Hey, Tonks? Do you want a job? Can you even take side contracts as an Auror?"
The Metamorphagus grinned, "Technically no. But when I have reason to suspect foul play of this level, I can't rightly sit around doing nothing. And I just so happen to have a backlog of vacation days built up."
"Amelia could probably be sold on the idea if you let her in on what you're planning," Andromeda offered. "She has a seat on the Wizengamot as well so Narcissa may well be able to gain a cooperating vote from her in the process."
Narcissa's eyes lit up, "I could start building my own voting bloc! I might even be able to take over the Gray Faction. Oh, Atlas, you give such good presents to your dear auntie~"
For some reason, the look in her eyes reminded me of Bella, "… If you think that's for the best, you have my permission. I'm dumping Sirius on you too. Partially so he can keep healing and partially because having a dog can be useful."
"Hey! I resemble that remark!"
"I'll accept the responsibility with grace, Milord," Narcissa said, ignoring Sirius' unrepentant, grinning response. "I never got the chance to babysit him when we were children. Besides, looking after a manchild like Sirius will be good practice for the child Milord eventually blesses me with."
"What…?"
"What…?"
"What…?"
Tonks, Draco, and I all had the same reaction to that shot out of nowhere.
"Hey!" Sirius' exclamation quickly devolved into manic laughter at the dumbfounded looks on our faces.
Andromeda rolled her eyes and Bella gave her sister a double thumbs up, seemingly way too eager to propagate the Black family tradition of incest babies.
Narcissa nodded as if she hadn't said anything wrong, "It is only proper for the Lord of a Household to give his Lady a spare heir or two."
"I-… Merlin, is Phoebe expecting this too?!"
"Of cour-…" Narcissa was nodding again before she was interrupted by the only sensible Black sister.
"Don't listen to her, Atlas," Andromeda said. "She's just scheming to get something she wants and trying to wrap you around her finger. She always does this. It's not malicious, just annoying and slightly self-absorbed."
Narcissa blushed, the first bit of red I'd seen cross her cheeks, "… A second child would be nice, is all. Lucius didn't touch me once after Draco was born."
Seeing that Andromeda was right about Narcissa not being actively malicious in her trickery, I said, "I'll-… Good Lord, I can't believe I'm saying this… I'll consider it."
She nodded, "That is all I ask."
I let out a sigh, suddenly drained, "Anything else you can think to mention that's on the same level as 'give me a child'? Might as well get it all out now."
"Not that I can think of."
"Alright then," I said. "Shall we-… Ah! Just remembered one last thing.
"If a Russian woman named Svetlana contacts you and inquires about taking Draco's hand in marriage, say yes. She was his date to the Yule Ball and Septima and I rather like the idea of giving him away with a dowry."
"W-Wait, what?" Draco paled. "Am I to be the bride? Y-You can't do that! She'll eat me alive!"
"Now, now, Draco," Narcissa tutted. "I think our Lord's idea is splendid. You don't have to wait until you finish school to give me grandbabies."
"Mother, I will quite literally die. Svetlana will Amazon press me until I have nothing left but dust and a broken mind," Draco deadpanned.
Sirius whistled, "What a way to go."
"Then I better have no shortage of grandbabies to spoil, my Little Dragon."
"I hate that she calls me the same thing…" Draco's grumbles were ignored by the rest of us.
Narcissa turned her attention back to me, "Though that does actually remind me of something else, Milord. Are you aware of the contract between House Black and House Greengrass?"
"What kind of contract?" I asked cautiously.
"The marriage contract, of course. It's quite important to the future prosperity of both Houses, as well as any political plans I may enact in your name. House Greengrass is a potent ally within the Gray Faction.
"Worry not though. It is not a barbaric contract like… Bella's. Merely an alliance and agreement between our two Houses, along with an exchange of dowry and Line Continuation clauses."
Dread pooled in my gut, "This contract wouldn't happen to be with, say, Astoria Greengrass, would it?"
"No, no, Milord. She's too young yet," I saw hope at the end of this conversation. Perhaps it was with a Greengrass cousin I didn't know about and not one of my students. I almost breathed a sigh of relief. Then Narcissa continued.
"It's with the oldest Greengrass child, Daphne, and you as the most eligible full-blooded Black heir."
27: New Year, New Wizengamot
"-And lastly, I need you to completely clean out the Yaxley Vaults," I instructed.
My account manager - a Goblin named Bloodspur - raised an eyebrow at me, "Of everything?"
I nodded, "Everything. I don't want them to be able to scrape dust off the floor. Collect all their debts while you're at it. Take the payment from the seized vault contents. If there's not enough, sell their properties with them still in them."
Bloodspur chuckled, "Oh, this will be fun. It's been decades since I've been able to exercise this kind of power on behalf of House Black."
"And take whatever fees you're owed from the former House Flint. I assume those vaults were absorbed into House Black when I abolished that House, correct?"
"They were," A tight-lipped grin grew across Bloodspur's face.
"Good. This will be a profitable experience for both of us then."
"What do you want to do with the items and artifacts of both House Yaxley and House Flint?"
I shrugged, "I guess I'll send someone to go through them all. Whatever they don't deem worth keeping, feel free to sell. So long as I get a cut, I don't rightly care what happens to them after that."
The Goblin's ears wiggled in what I could only guess was excitement, "Very good. Will that be all for now, Acting Lord Black?"
"Let's see…" I considered. "We gave Narcissa access to the main Black vault… Established stipends for Tonks and Andromeda, Draco, and the coven… Going through the main vault's artifacts will have to wait until you can find me a very, very good Cursebreaker… Yeah, that just about covers everything."
"Then your will will be done," Bloodspur said firmly. "You may see yourself out, Acting Lord Black. May your enemies bleed black onto the silver of your sword."
"Uh, yeah… May your allies stack that paper…?" I gave my best effort at a Goblin goodbye.
Bloodspur barked a laugh, "That's a good one! I'll have to tell the wife."
"It was… traditional enough?" I asked cautiously, a little confused by the fact my bullshit had been accepted.
"Traditional?" Bloodspur looked surprised by the word. "We make these up on the spot to mess with Wizards. Only the quick-witted ones answer with something new. Though I guess it has evolved into something of a tradition by now…"
With that new piece of information, Bloodspur waved and dismissed me. I blinked as I left his office, processing the generational prank the Goblins had been pulling on the Wizarding world. Goblin greetings and goodbyes were legendary for how violent, greedy, and ruthlessly simple they sounded.
And for how utterly nonsensical or inconsistent they could be. Something I'd just found out was on purpose. And they never let Wizards in on the secret, instead leaving them to flounder through every greeting. Which made sense now that I knew the truth behind them.
"Huh, I guess you learn something new every day…"
Shaking my head in amusement, I went to go find Heather. We'd come to Gringotts together as promised. She'd been pulled into a meeting with the Potter account manager and I'd been pulled into a similar one with Bloodspur. The Potter and Black offices were close enough to each other that I felt comfortable letting Heather do this alone.
They were so close, in fact, that I quickly found Heather. She was standing in the middle of the hallway outside the Potter office. Lost to the world, she barely even reacted as I came up and put an arm around her.
"How'd that go?" I asked.
"I have a house… Not just a house. I have a mansion…" Heather replied in a daze.
I nodded in understanding, "And probably a good few million galleons to your name as well, right?"
"Yeah…" Heather was obviously having trouble retrofitting this new information with the rest of her life. "The mountain of gold in my trust vault was only the tip of the iceberg."
"Well, what about the really important stuff?"
"Important? More important than the literal sea of gold? Or the mansion?" Heather looked at me as if she didn't understand.
"Yeah. The items. The things. The artifacts and books and brooms and wands. The things your parents and the rest of your ancestors left you that actually matter," I elaborated.
"Oh, yeah!" Heather's face lit up, shaking off her daze. "I found this wicked-looking old broom that I can't wait to try out! And this bag that's waaaaaaayyyyy bigger on the inside! And I grabbed a few books for Hermione too. Found an old copy of Hogwarts, a History 'cause I wanted to see what all the fuss was about. There was a bunch of stuff. It was like finding a treasure trove! I even found-…"
"Go on," I encouraged as Heather trailed off. "I'm listening."
"I-I found my parents' journals too… I've been too scared to open them though. Can… Can you be with me when I read them?"
"It'd be an honor, Heather."
The small, relieved smile on her face made this whole trip worth it. Well, so did the fact that we'd gained access to more money than we could spend in a lifetime, but at the moment, Heather's happiness seemed more important.
IIIII
"This… is going to suck," I said flatly.
"Chin up, Milord. You have a duty to do. Try not to worry yourself too much. All you have to do is act as our figurehead. Us womenfolk will be doing the real work," Narcissa 'reassured'.
"And me," Edward added in an amused tone.
Narcissa nodded, "Yes, yes, of course, Edward. You too. Milord should just sit there and look pretty as he does so well."
I rolled my eyes at Phoebe's barely concealed giggles, "Who's supposed to be the Lord here?"
"You, Milord," Phoebe 'agreed' with me. "But it's only natural that the Ladies act as the political backbone of a House. 'Tis just the way of things."
"Right… Then call me if you need me to duel someone. I'll be back at Hogwarts actually enjoying myself."
"Ah, no no, Milord. That will not do at all. We need our pretty figurehead, remember?"
I slumped in place, promising myself, "Only for today. After this, I never have to step foot in the blasted Wizengamot again."
Our group today was small but politically potent. Directly with me were Edward, Narcissa, and Phoebe. Sirius and Bella were here somewhere as well, likely wherever Amelia had squirreled them away until the time was right.
Today's plan was simple. I just had to accept my appointment to the Wizengamot. Then I would appoint Narcissa and Phoebe as my proxies. After that, I could sit back and do nothing. As Narcissa said, the 'womenfolk' would take care of the rest. The rest, in this case, consisted of voting on the scheduled issues, bills, and motions and playing the political game of Wizarding Britain.
The only issue on the agenda I was actually interested in was my parents' innocence. Which no one outside of our group knew would turn into trials on the spot, with Sirius and Bella waiting in the wings to be exonerated at Amelia's signal. If not for that and the aforementioned appointment process, I would have skipped this bit of political ceremony entirely.
"No use putting this off any longer," I sighed. "We might as well take our seats."
Narcissa and Phoebe snapped to attention behind me. It seemed they wanted to make a coordinated entrance. I rolled my eyes at the theatrics of it all. Edward noticed but just smirked at me before falling into place behind the two Ladies under my banner.
We left the comfortable waiting room we'd been assigned and exited straight into the Wizengamot chambers. The door disappeared behind us as we did. Almost immediately, we attracted the attention of the gathered members. The whispers and general chatter resumed after a moment of observation. That said, my party and I were the subject of more than a few lingering glances.
The Wizengamot chambers were bowl-shaped like the courtroom my trial took place in, taking further form into a semicircle centered around a single large raised seat, not unlike a Judge's bench. The chambers were much more extravagant in scope and scale than the courtroom though. The large domed and arched ceiling, for example, wouldn't have been out of place in the grandest cathedrals.
200 members of Wizarding society - from the most ancient Houses to the most minor - were already gathered or slowly trickling into the chambers. Many took the chance to chat with their peers before sitting. Those small conversations, Narcissa had assured me, were where the real politicking happened in these chambers.
Narcissa subtly directed me to the Black seat. Once there, the magic of the Wizengamot chambers made itself known. The area around us morphed and shifted until there were enough seats for the four of us. At the same time, the Malfoy and Parkinson seats shifted to two of the additional seats. Only then did I notice that the chamber's seating was arranged roughly by faction, with House Black now positioned between the Gray and the Dark.
Fascinated as I was by the undoubtedly numerous charms and enchantments in the chamber, I did not get much of a chance to ponder them for very long. Narcissa, Phoebe, and Edward sat. I followed if only so I didn't look awkward as the only one standing.
As soon as I sat down, the chamber seemed to explode into action. The magic I was so fascinated with shifted even more seats as people vied for positions near the newest player in their great game. The winner on my left was someone I was slightly familiar with, while the one on my right was someone I knew I would soon be familiar with.
"Hello, Atlas~" Valentina Zabini purred from my left.
"Lord Black! It's a pleasure to finally meet you! I understand you teach my darling baby girls!" The exuberant voice of Lord Greengrass greeted me from my right.
"Hello, Cygnus," Narcissa thankfully took the pressure off me from my right. "Let's give my Lord some time to accustom himself to all of this novelty. Tell me, how are young Daphne and Astoria?"
Phoebe did not do the same thing for the threat from the left. Instead, she merely hid a tittering smile behind her hand and left me to my fate. Seeing the opening, Valentina's seat shifted a bit closer while Edward and Phoebe's seats shifted back slightly within the House Black seating box.
On the very edge of the distinction between the Zabini and Black boxes, Valentina leaned toward me and fixed me with a sultry smile, "Oh, how nice. I seem to have all of your ~attention~ at the moment."
"Mistress Zabini," I greeted, swallowing a sudden lump in my throat.
Valentina's smile grew, "Please, Atlas. Call me Valentina. The Mistress title is optional for you~ I may even want to play around with reversing it~"
I gulped. Something about this woman just put my nerves on edge in the best possible way. I felt like a fumbling fool in front of her. She exuded pure sensuality and seduction. If I didn't know any better, I would have assumed she was Veela.
"A-Ahem, o-of course, Valentina. It's… lovely to see you again. Especially with how we left off our last meeting."
"Oh~? Did you end up using my gift~? No… A man like you has no need for solo pleasure like that. Perhaps you had it framed so you may gaze upon my beauty whenever you wished~?"
I tried not to let on how close she was to the truth. Septima had indeed had Valentina's lewd gift framed. I caught her looking at it with a considering expression more than once. Which… was fair. The photo - and Valentina by extension - was a work of art.
"… Something like that," I deflected. "I'm afraid the women in my life have the final say in matters of decoration."
"Smart boy~," Valentina said with a sultry chuckle. "It'll be so nice to have someone so young, strapping, and intelligent in this body~ And I don't just mean the Wizengamot~"
"Right…" My brain stuttered as her hand crept over the barrier between our boxes and toward my thigh before common sense thankfully won out. "Tempting but fortunately, I don't have a death wish. Narcissa? Switch."
In a flash, Narcissa and I reversed positions. She was left to be groped by Valentina and I was suddenly deeply engaged in a doting father's rambles about his daughters. In the background, Phoebe laughed so hard she nearly lost her composure.
"-And Astoria - oh, my little Story~! - She recently sent home a letter requesting some Muggle clothing! The little minx is growing up so fast! Oh, I'm so proud of her! I think she has her first crush! Daphne's been quiet as usual. I think she's scheming something again. You know how girls get, don't you, Narcissa? Narcissa? Oh, Lord Black! How wonderful of you to join me!"
Cygnus Greengrass was a dignified-looking man, with salt and pepper hair and a gloriously groomed mustache. His personality, though, was completely at odds with that outward appearance. He was boisterous. All deep, belly laughs and excitement, especially when he was talking about his children. He certainly didn't strike me as the typical boring Pure-Blood I'd imagined.
On my other side, Narcissa squeaked suddenly, "Valentina! Save it for our next tea time!"
I smiled at my future father-in-law, "Hello. Sorry to intrude but I simply needed an escape route. Cygnus, right? I don't think we've been properly introduced. Call me Atlas."
Cygnus' smile was genuinely bright, flashing straight, white teeth at me, "Capital! It's an absolute pleasure, Atlas! I've been meaning to talk to you! How would you like to have dinner with my family tonight?"
"Oh, I wouldn't want to intrude any further…"
"No, no, I insist! Ada - my wife - would have my head if I didn't convince you. She's the real power behind the Greengrass name, though you didn't hear that from me. Wink," Cygnus grinned conspiratorially and literally said 'wink'. "And I'm sure my girls would love to get to know their professor in a less formal situation. To say nothing about the contract and Daphne's betrothal. Why, you're practically family already!"
My smile grew slightly strained but I didn't protest too much. Narcissa was very heavyhanded in her insistence that I accept the contract for the good of all of my Houses. Septima advised me to seriously consider it as well, citing her growing equations regarding the coven. I was reserving the final say for myself. Until I saw how Daphne felt about the subject at least. If she resisted at all, there would be no making me go through with it.
"Yes, the contract is something I wished to discuss with you and your family. I suppose dinner would be perfect for that conversation," I tentatively agreed to Cygnus' invitation.
"Wonderful!" Cygnus exclaimed. "Soon enough I'll have my first grandbaby to spoil rotten!"
I didn't get a chance to respond to that statement other than to pale. Instead, the Wizengamot proceedings started and silence was enforced upon the chamber. Dumbledore had taken his place as Chief Warlock at some point, sitting regally at the head of the chamber. The discreet wink he shot me when our eyes met dissuaded that regal appearance somewhat.
Dumbledore stood to make a few opening remarks, "Yes, yes, order and all that jazz. Welcome, everyone, to the first session of the year. Let's get the usual out of the way first. Firstly, congratulations, as always, to Madam Marchbanks. The old bag of bones has managed to last one more year with us."
"I can still take you over my knee, boy!" A gnarled and ancient Witch shouted with a surprisingly spry voice from a box within the Light Faction.
Dumbledore grinned in response, "You can certainly try, Griselda. Secondly, the annual anonymous request to reinstate Muggle slavery has not been renewed. Coincidentally, Lucius Malfoy is no longer with us. I'm sure those two facts aren't related at all."
Narcissa groaned in embarrassment and Dumbledore continued, "Thirdly, Mistress Zabini's newest husband has suffered the annual fate. I believe that was number 14. She has informed me that she is currently taking applications again. If any wealthy fools wish to fall dead under stupidly mysterious circumstances, you know where to apply."
Valentina leaned over Narcissa to whisper to me, "Don't worry, darling. I'd make your death interesting~"
I ignored her. That offer shouldn't have been as tempting as it was. Damned Witch…
Dumbledore continued again, his tone growing deeply exasperated, "Fourthly, please, for the love of magic, people, stop apparating into places blind! Think for once in your miserable lives! I will consider the next Wizard caught without a good excuse to be volunteering themselves for the position of Undersecretary's Undersecretary. Yes, that does mean you will be picking up after the toad."
"And finally, I would like to welcome our newest member. Acting Lord Atlas White Black, one of my own Hogwarts staff and a good friend of mine. I have high hopes that his presence will shake things up around here. Some of you will not like the changes he is bound to bring with him. And to that I say, challenge him to a duel. Merlin knows the Wizengamot could use a good pruning…"
I waved awkwardly as the chamber's attention was directed my way. I could already imagine that certain members considered taking Dumbledore's 'advice'. Someone almost certainly would at some point. Probably after Narcissa managed to grant Werewolves free or cheap access to Wolf's Bane potions or something equally sensible and progressive. A not-insignificant part of me was looking forward to that duel.
After Dumbledore's opening remarks, things proceeded apace. I was sworn in, appointed Narcissa and Phoebe as my proxies, and began to tune out the unproductive march of politics. At some point, Narcissa's and my chair switched back, putting me next to Valentina once again. I spent more time on guard against her seductive advances than I did listening to the Wizengamot.
A woman should not be able to edge a man so well over his clothes in public. It just wasn't right. Her fingers felt like fire on my nerves even when she wasn't touching me. Just the way she stroked a hand along her sitting curves… It wasn't right, wasn't fair in the slightest.
Still, through some force of will, I managed to resist Valentina's succubus charms. Some vote was called as I did. I trusted Narcissa and Phoebe to follow my instructions and vote the opposite of how everyone expected them to.
That certainly attracted attention and whispers as both the Light and Dark tried to figure out my political stance. Jokes on them. It wasn't Light or Dark or even Gray. It was Chaos.
Eventually, Edward stood and made his way down to the floor of the chamber. I'd appointed him as the sole solicitor for House Black at the moment. That, of course, meant he would be representing Sirius and Bella.
Sirius was called out first, making his entrance with roguish smiles and an easy-going swagger. His trial and defense were as simple and straightforward as I'd been expecting. All Edward had to do was request Veritaserum and then Sirius told the whole Wizengamot the truth of that fateful night.
He was exonerated in short order and a bounty was placed on Pettigrew's head. Instead of joining us, he went to sit by Amelia. She gave him a sweet kiss to the surprise of most. It seemed as though they'd been rekindling whatever relationship they'd once had while Sirius recovered.
While Sirius was met with nostalgic scorn and admiration from the female population of the Wizengamot - or his generation at least - Bella's entrance was met with something else. Pity, commiseration, righteous outrage, and no small amount of fear filled the female members, both young and old. The men of the Dark Faction sneered, hiding their fear behind a veneer of anger.
Bella was infamous, after all. While Sirius was known as the Hogwarts Playboy of the 70s and 80s, his reputation as "Voldemort's right hand" was never taken seriously by those with two brain cells to rub together. In contrast, Bella's reputation as Voldemort's bound attack dog and cautionary tale was never in question.
That also made proving her innocence much trickier than Sirius'. She had done some of the things she'd been accused of. Not all, mind you. Her 'husbands' placed the blame for some of their crimes on Bella to escape the Veil of Death. But she was guilty enough - even if she could not rightly be held responsible for her action - that Edward felt the need to take a different course of action.
"Lord Black would like to implore the Wizengamot for leniency. In accordance with the old rites, he claims responsibility for the punishment of one under his banner. Also, let it be known Lord Black disavows Bellatrix Black's previous marriage contract - the source of her uncharacteristic actions."
Murmurs filled the gathered Wizengamot crowd as Dumbledore accepted Edward's plea in the spirit it had been given. Even if Bella was found guilty, her punishment would fall to me. Yet more corruption within Pure-Blood Wizarding society but something we could use. I actually saw a few begrudgingly admiring glances from the Dark Faction at the tactic we'd chosen to take.
Unlike Sirius, Bella's trial was not as simple as a Veritaserum interrogation. The first thing Edward did was call a qualified Mind Healer to testify to Bella's mental conditions and the faded conditioning placed upon her by the contract.
I winced as her issues were read aloud for the Wizengamot to hear. The only places she was ruled mentally sound were where it came to me, the coven, and the rest of the Black family. And even then, she was deeply repressing everything that happened after the contract was brought into effect.
Bella paid no mind to her grim diagnosis even as the Wizengamot members descended into gasps of shock, disgust, and outrage. Instead, she locked onto my gaze with eyes full of trust and fervored devotion.
"-It is my professional opinion that Bellatrix Black should not be held responsible for her actions under that despicable contract. In fact, I must beg that the vaunted Wizengamot rule such contracts illegal so a tragedy like this may never happen again. They are no different from the Imperius curse and should be treated the same.
"No, perhaps with even more care. The Imperius can be broken by those with strong enough will. These old marriage contracts enforce their cruel magic through blood. They cannot be broken outside of very specific circumstances. Now, if you'll excuse me, I feel the need for an obliviation. Or if that fails, the need to drink myself into a coma."
Only after the Mind Healer established the facts of Bella's condition for the Wizengamot did Edward call for Veritaserum questioning. She didn't resist and answered every question posed to her. However, her answers always seemed to come back to me in an almost concerning way…
"How did you come to be beholden to the contract?"
"My parents stole my blood and used it to sign the contract on my behalf. Something I would never do to my dear baby boy~"
"Were you conscious of your actions under the contract?"
"Yes. I remember… everything. Nightmares plagued me whether I slept or not. Only my perfect baby boy and his lovers have helped me overcome them."
"Where do your true allegiances lie?"
"With my baby boy. With my Lord Black. With my family and myself. I will kill and die for Atlas. He is my everything."
And so on…
Eventually, the antidote was administered and I was saved from further public declarations of devotion. There were certainly no questions about whether I could control Bella by the end of it all. And so, Dumbledore ruled that Bella would be left in the care of House Black.
Once freed, Bella skipped up to our box. A chair spawned next to me and Bella eagerly placed herself on it. Thankfully for my sanity, it seemed that even Valentina wasn't willing to keep up her seductive advances with my mother next to me. Though in all likelihood, Bella would have just joined in on the fun if Valentina had kept pressing.
It seemed as though the trials would be the only interesting part of this Wizengamot session. After that, things quickly devolved back into an unproductive mess. Bella fell asleep on my shoulder and I deeply considered doing the same myself.
Narcissa and Phoebe were in their element though. True to the Mind Healer's suggestion, Dumbledore jumped the chance to start atoning for his sins when it came to Bella and immediately put forth a motion to make blood-enforced marriage contracts illegal.
Narcissa and Phoebe threw the support of my voting bloc behind the motion, as did many others. Even the Ladies of the Dark Faction. The only ones who didn't support the motion were the Dark Faction Lords. They were quickly overruled and practically glared out of the chamber by the combined force of Light, Dark, and Gray feminine scorn.
With spells seemingly ready to fly, Narcissa apparently decided that this was the perfect time to follow my instructions to shake things up. The cries of disapproval and gasps of shock when she proposed the Werewolf reforms we'd thought up were the only things that kept me awake. Blood purist outrage was a gloriously sweet treat for my Muggle-raised soul…
IIIII
Daphne let out a breath. Sage smoldered in her hands. Crystals tinkled, swaying like windchimes in an unseen wind. Before her, a deck of Tarot cards sat motionless.
She was trying to create something here. Something that had only been conceived in parts and never all together. None of the ingredients or decorations stirred her magic. None of them pulled at her core. Yet she still believed she could do something new here.
As the top card of the Tarot deck twitched, the calm atmosphere Daphne had created in her room was broken.
"Daphne~!" Astoria called in a singsong voice as she barged through the door, not bothering to knock as always.
Daphne sighed, "Story. Now isn't a good time."
Astoria's nose crinkled, "Why not? You're just playing with your 'witchy' Muggle things. They don't actually do anything. And I don't know why you bother with them. We have actual magic, you know?"
Daphne rolled her eyes, "I've told you before, I think there's something here. Maybe Squibs were the ones who started the rumors about magic in the Muggle world. We'll never know unless we try."
"The only things there that are even remotely related to magic are the Tarot cards. And they're still not proper Tarot cards," Astoria pointed out as usual.
Daphne ignored her sister's skepticism, "What do you want, Astoria?"
"Hmm? Oh~!" Astoria hopped in place as she remembered the original reason for her rude intrusion. "We're having a guest for dinner! You'll never guess who!"
"Who?" Daphne asked, her voice as monotone as ever.
"Professor Atlas~!" Astoria replied, giddy with excitement. "Daddy sent Mother a message to say he met him at the Wizengamot meeting today and convinced him to come over for dinner! I think we're finally going forward with the thing! You know~? The contract~?"
"Wonderful…" Daphne's flat tone betrayed none of her emotions. "I assume Mother sent you up here so that we may prepare and make ourselves presentable?"
Astoria snorted, giggling, "Duh~… We can't bring shame to our family's name by having a single hair out of place, can we~?"
Daphne raised a dull eyebrow, "Then why are you still in your pajamas? It's four in the afternoon…"
Her troublesome little sister just beamed a smile at her, "You have to brush my hair!"
Though she didn't show it, Daphne couldn't help but be affected by Astoria's antics. They stoked a lovely flame buried deep within her emotionless exterior, "Fine… Sit. Don't squirm. Let me just clean up a bit."
Astoria grinned at Daphne, making all of her little sacrifices for family worth it. It might have conflicted with the image she'd cultivated for herself, but some things weren't worth ignoring. Astoria was one of them.
Only those who didn't know her called Daphne the 'Ice Queen'. Her friends, her family, and anyone who actually paid attention knew that Daphne had plenty of emotions. She just didn't show them on her face or in her voice.
With a few swishes of her wand, Daphne's room was cleared of her Muggle curiosities. They were something Tracy Davis had introduced her to. They'd laughed at the Muggle idea of a Witch-… Well, Tracy had laughed. Daphne had twitched the corners of her mouth into an almost unnoticeable grin. But Daphne still ended up buying a few things from that little gothic storefront. Just because she had real magic didn't mean she couldn't experiment with the Muggle side of things.
Astoria plopped herself down in front of Daphne's vanity. Daphne joined her, sitting next to Astoria and having her turn to present her hair. She caught sight of both of them in the vanity's mirror as she picked up her brush to begin sorting out Astoria's hair.
Astoria was as perky as ever. Even sitting down, she was all but bouncing in place. She carried an undeniable energy with her everywhere she went. The kind of energy that sucked people into her orbit and set the pace of her whole life.
Her fair, cherubic face was always split by a wide grin. Her eyes darted everywhere, taking in everything all at once. Her cheeks were naturally rosy with blush and like most Witches (and even Wizards), Astoria required no makeup to look her best.
Long white hair was gathered in Daphne's hands as she brushed Astoria. Silky smooth and soft as sin, Astoria clearly took after their mother in that regard. Her personality, however, was entirely from their father.
Spoiler: Astoria Greengrass
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Daphne was the opposite side of that coin. Her appearance took after their father, specifically with his dark hair. While her personality was taken directly from their mother, though tweaked in certain ways that made Daphne her own person. Daphne was cold in a monotone, seemingly emotionless sort of way. Their mother was cold in a stubborn, calculating, and ruthlessly ambitious way.
Spoiler: Daphne Greengrass
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The slight differences had caused some distance between the mother and daughter. Oh, there was no doubt in Daphne's mind that her mother loved her. But she also knew her mother wouldn't hesitate to use her to get ahead.
After Tracy introduced Daphne to Muggle culture - namely a certain niche, dark, gothic aesthetic that Daphne and Tracy happened to run into while they were out in the Muggle world and fell in love with - their relationship grew the tiniest bit more strained.
Ada Greengrass didn't understand the small spark of rebellion that caused her daughter to dress the way she did or engage with Muggle culture the way she did. Never mind the fact that Ada's choice of style could easily have been mistaken for Goth. Or the fact that Ada herself was quite the fan of a Muggle she only knew as 'Madonna'…
Her mother's hypocrisy was an old topic for Daphne by now. They didn't have a hostile relationship though, even with all of their petty disagreements. If anything, that just made them stronger together. The Greengrass family was just that; a family through and through.
A family that would potentially be growing very soon. The Black-Greengrass contract. Something that had been looming over Daphne's head since she was just a girl. Something that had lost its intimidation very recently with the discovery that she wouldn't have to marry Draco Malfoy.
The contract originally started as a way for Lucius Malfoy to force House Greengrass to violate their neutrality and give his hopeless spawn any chance at marriage. It was something Cygnus Greengrass had been forced to sign practically at wand-point. But with Lucius falling to a (un)timely death, hope shined at the end of the tunnel. Then came Professor Atlas' reveal and that hope flared bright as the sun.
In an instant witnessed over the WWO, Daphne had gone from a likely doomed and dreaded future with an un-Slytherin ponce to winning the marriage lottery (if you asked Pansy, at least). Daphne wasn't as crazy about the Professor as Pansy or even Astoria were but she certainly liked him a fair bit better than Draco.
She was willing to give the contract a shot now. Any more would have to wait until they had an actual conversation in a casual setting. Something which it seemed would happen tonight…
"Done…" Daphne said, her tone flat and not portraying her inner thoughts at all. "Now, get up and I'll help you get dressed."
Astoria cocked her head cutely, "Don't you need to change, Daphne?"
Daphne looked at herself in the mirror as if just remembering what she was wearing. The piercings were a bit much… As were the choker and Muggle tee-shirt she was wearing… Hell, the fake tattoos might just give her mother a heart attack at the indecency of it all…
Her reply was deadpan but there was the barest hint of a smirk on her face, "Nope, I look perfect."
28: Meet the Greengrasses
"Change," Ada Greengrass ordered, her voice icy.
Spoiler: Ada Greengrass
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"No," Daphne wouldn't be swayed.
Ada scoffed at her daughter's expressionless tone, "Do you really want your future husband to see you like that? So… So Muggle?"
"Yes."
"I swear to Morgana, Daphne… Must we fight about everything?"
"Just your hypocrisy."
"Why, I never-!"
"You always," Daphne interrupted with a deadpan tone.
"When?!" Ada snapped, trying her best to not glare at her eldest child.
Daphne just raised a bored eyebrow, "Other than the fact that I bought you that dress and I happen to know it was made by Muggles?"
Ada's eyes narrowed but she didn't rise to the bait, "… Fine, don't change. Perhaps this can be used as well. Lord Black was raised by Muggles. Your manner of dress should help to put him at ease."
"Or he could just accept me as I am."
Ada scoffed, "Don't be sarcastic, Daphne. It is unbecoming of a young lady of your status."
"Right… I'm sure Professor Atlas will care oh so much. Not like he'll be expecting this young lady to be herself or anything."
Ada eyed her thoroughly, "I suppose in your case anything is possible…"
Daphne rolled her eyes, "Sure… I'm only fated to marry him… Why would he actually want to get to know me?"
"Why indeed…" Ada couldn't help the smirk that pulled at the corners of her lips.
Daphne stared flatly at her mother. Ada suppressed her smirk in return. Astoria stood between them off to one side. Her head swiveled between mother and eldest daughter over and over again. She was hesitant to choose a side as always with their arguments. Though not serious, Astoria still found herself playing mediator more often than not.
"Uh, I think Daphne looks cute~! And you look beautiful, Mom~! Professor Atlas won't stand a chance~!"
Ada lost the battle against her smirk and it turned into a full-blown smile, "Oh? Bold of you to assume he stood a chance in the first place, Astoria. He will be joining our family or we will be joining under his banner. That much is non-negotiable."
"For the betterment of the House, of course?" Daphne asked rhetorically.
"Of course," Ada nodded. "House Black and its subsidiaries will control a substantial voting bloc for the rest of this generation and the ones that follow. And they have not openly sided with either the Light or the Dark. We would be foolish to not pursue an alliance."
Astoria giggled, "And Professor Atlas is ~definitely~ better than Draco~ Isn't that right, Daph~ne~?"
"Almost anyone is preferable to Draco," Daphne deadpanned. "I think you two are missing a couple of things though…"
Ada raised an eyebrow, humoring her daughter, "And what would those things be, Daphne?"
"His girlfriend. And their lovers. And the rumors of their coven."
Ada blinked in surprise, "Co-… ven…? He practices the old rites? And this is common knowledge at Hogwarts…?"
Astoria whistled innocently, looking anywhere but her mother. Daphne's expression didn't change but inside, she was smirking at Ada's ignorance.
"Astoria…" Ada's voice grew stern. "I trust you to keep me informed where your sister will not. Why did you not tell me about something as significant as this?"
"I forgottttttt~" Astoria whined.
"It's part of the reason he rejected you for the Yule Ball, Story," Daphne flatly reminded her.
Astoria shrunk in on herself and Ada sighed, "Never mind. We can still work with this. He's obviously still accepting coven members or else he would have canceled the contract already. Unless he didn't know about it until recently. But that's ridiculous. Narcissa would have told him."
"He didn't seem to know anything about it at the Yule Ball when I danced with him," Daphne said.
Ada huffed, "Unfortunate but again, not impossible. He knows now if what your father told me is accurate. Tell me, what do we know about this coven?"
Astoria perked back up at the chance to be useful, "Oh! Well, we don't know whose name it's under but one of the Ravenclaw girls found out it hasn't been registered with the Ministry. Which, like, makes sense because the Ministry hardly allows any covens anymore. We've just been calling it the White Coven, even after the reveal of Professor Atlas' heritage."
"Is he starting a new House?" Ada's expression shifted into one of consideration. "Already planning on expanding his influence even further… My, my, I must say I'm impressed by the new Lord Black."
"So far we know of three members. Likely four after the Yule Ball," Astoria continued. "Professor Septima Vector was the first and is his publicly accepted girlfriend. There are also whispers that she was the brains behind the initial idea of forming a coven at all.
"Other than Professor Vector, nothing has been explicitly confirmed by him. Professor Aurora Sinistra attended the Yule Ball with them. She likely joined at some point before or after that. But recruitment has not been limited to just the staff. There's the French Veela girl he saved. For obvious reasons. And the Lovegood Heiress seems to be awfully close with him. Rumor has it that she's even sleeping in his quarters."
"Don't forget the Girl-Who-Lived and the Smartest Witch of Our Generation," Daphne added, seemingly bored of this topic despite her contribution. "Heather Potter and Hermione Granger - a Muggle-born, Mother - are spending a lot of time with him due to the tournament. If I had to bet, they'll join the coven sooner rather than later."
"Oh~? Oh my~…" Ada practically purred as the possibilities presented themselves. "Competent Witches? Their own method of printing propaganda? Foreign blood and a connection to the Veela Clans? The Girl-Who-Lived? What more could a mother-in-law ask for?"
"That was entirely not the point of me bringing this up," Daphne rolled her eyes.
"My actual point was that you're going about this from the wrong angle, Mother. The contract may give us an 'in' but the rest of the coven would undoubtedly not side with us. I'd be joining at a disadvantage if I'm even allowed to join at all.
"And that's to say nothing about what entering a coven would mean for the continuation of House Greengrass. It's possible I wouldn't be Lady Malfoy, Lady Black, or even Lady Greengrass. Unless you want to leave the bloodline solely on Astoria's shoulders, certain arrangements must be made."
Ada smiled at her eldest daughter, "Sometimes I am just so very proud of you, Daphne. But you are missing a key piece of information. The Line Continuation clause of the contract. It was one of the only concessions your father was able to negotiate from that dead, slimy peacock of a Malfoy. Even joining a coven will not change the fact that your first child shall be Heir Greengrass."
"And I don't mind being Heiress Greengrass if you're too busy creating a new House to see to your duties, Daphne~" Astoria piped in with a singsong voice. "You'll just owe me a couple of nights with your husband-to-be~"
"Brat," Daphne deadpanned. "Why would he even want you? You'll basically be his little sister at that point."
"He's a Black," Instead of Astoria, Ada shrugged and said as if that one sentence answered everything.
Sadly, it kind of did. Daphne and Astoria both nodded their understanding. Then Astoria showed she wasn't as vapid and careless as she usually presented herself.
"So we're picking the winning side now, right? No more neutrality stuff?"
Seeing her mother's hesitation, Astoria continued, "I mean, think about everything you just said, Mother. In a mere half year since graduating, Atlas has become a respected Hogwarts Professor, killed some of the darkest Pure-Blood Lords around, created a coven, gained the allegiance of Heather Potter and at least one foreign Veela, sent the Pure-Blood political world into an uproar, and seems to be in the process of founding a new House to add to his still-growing voting bloc.
"Our House's neutrality isn't as useful as it once was. And now seems to be the perfect time to take a chance with an upcoming power. By some coincidence, the Black-Greengrass contract has already put us on that course anyway. If we throw all of our support behind him now, we'll reap all of the benefits. Medium risk, very very high reward. And that's not even mentioning the 'movement'…"
Daphne nodded, "Ah, yes… the 'movement'."
"What movement?" Ada asked, biting her lip as she turned her youngest's argument over in her head.
Daphne and Astoria exchanged looks, debating whether their mother should be told about the rising revolution that was brewing within the Hogwarts WWO forums.
Daphne only ended up saying one word as if it explained the whole 'movement', "Granger."
"Let's just say that the youth aren't too happy about Professor Atlas' trial. And that Hogwarts is currently hosting a contingent of foreign Witches with a very specific history…" Astoria said cautiously.
Ada drew in a breath, "The French…"
"And a good number of Russians," Daphne added.
"For your safety, Mother, ignorance may well be bliss in this case."
For a moment, Ada was silent, thinking. Then she nodded and changed the subject as if she hadn't just been told about the fledgling Granger revolution in roundabout terms.
"Yes, I believe it is time for House Greengrass to break its neutrality. This contract is a very good place for us to start. Don't let us down, Daphne."
Staring at her mother blankly, Daphne asked, "Don't I have a choice in this?"
"Of course, you do-…" Ada started to say.
Astoria interrupted her, cocking her head at Daphne, "You don't want to marry Professor Atlas? I thought you liked him with the way you two danced at the Yule Ball."
"I didn't say that," Daphne retorted. "I would just like the choice to get to know him before anything is set in stone."
"And you'll get it," Ada nodded. "But you will marry him. I've decided it is vital for the future of our House. Throwing our support in with this new House Black is already a gamble. I would very much prefer it pay off instead of blow up in our faces."
Daphne rolled her eyes, saying sarcastically, "Thank you, Mother. Not like I might have wanted a different outcome."
"You didn't," Ada observed keenly, seeing the emotions her daughter couldn't show. "You're perfectly fine with this outcome. In fact, I could say you hoped for it and you're only saying that out of some misguided sense of teenage rebellion."
Despite her icy expression, a hint of blush showed on Daphne's cheeks, "… Whatever."
Now, Ada was not cruel. She just knew her daughter better than she knew herself, even with how much they bickered about meaningless fluff. She saw the seed of a crush that could be nurtured into love. At the same time, she saw that the seed would be crushed or drowned with a heavy hand. So she moved along like she hadn't just poked Daphne's true feelings.
"Has anyone checked on the House Elves?"
"No, Mother~" Astoria answered cheerfully.
"Be a dear, Daphne. If I can't convince you to change, you might as well do something productive."
Daphne scoffs but internally, she was glad for the distraction. Still, as she walked toward the manor's kitchen that pesky teenage rebellion reared its head again. Daphne's practically frozen face split into a small smirk. With a wave of her wand, her spontaneous plan was put into action and her shirt was charmed in a way that would only make itself apparent at the perfect moment.
"Now to find my fishnets and shorten this skirt a couple of inches…"
IIIII
"-And she even managed to convince her tutor that setting fires was a completely normal Greengrass tradition! Ha! My little Astoria is the most entertaining child in the world! All I had to do after that particular incident was bail the poor tutor out of jail. Though… How Astoria convinced her to try it a second, third, and fourth time, I simply cannot comprehend…" Cygnus Greengrass laughed and laughed as we walked up the path to his home.
"That… actually explains so much about Astoria," I said, thinking back on all of the chaos she'd caused in class to get my attention.
Cygnus smiled proudly, "Yes, she truly is one of a kind, isn't she?"
Spoiler: Cygnus Greengrass
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There was only one correct answer in a situation like this, "Yes… Yes, she is."
Cygnus smiled and clapped me on the shoulder, proud as could be of his daughter. It made me wonder for a moment whether Daphne was as much of a troublemaker as Astoria, only less blatant about her mischief. Admittedly, I didn't know. She was a hard one to get to know and that was why I was looking forward to having an actual conversation with her.
The path we walked up was lined with tall hedges and green grass. It looped in on itself, intersecting here and there and seeming to go on forever, more of a maze than a straight line. I wouldn't want to walk up this thing every time I wanted to get home. I imagined it was some kind of Pure-Blood ritual or perhaps just Cygnus' eccentricity showing.
The rest of my group had begged off coming, citing things to do or some other excuse. Narcissa took Bella off of my hands for me. I might have preferred to have Septima with me but that didn't seem possible for this first meeting.
Cygnus swept me along at his pace. He was an undeniably charming man and his excitement about his family was palpable. Just from talking to him for an afternoon, I felt like I was an old friend. And so, I was invited to his home.
We'd apparated straight here from the Ministry and were let in at the grand gate by magic. I could feel the manor's wards tickling the back of my neck as we walked through its grounds. They were old. They were powerful. And they were only tentatively accepting me for the moment.
Eventually, the tall hedges parted and the manor itself came into view. It seemed to be standard fare for a Victorian manor. Two stories, asymmetrical design, a steeply sloped roof, and constructed of stone and wood. Not quite a castle but the single tall turret-like tower that stuck out from the manor's backbone tried its best to dissuade that assumption. With the tower, the manor looked almost like a closed fist with a middle finger sticking out the top.
The weight of the wards grew as we approached the front door. They pressed down on my shoulders, their magic surrounding me in a way that wasn't quite threatening… yet. They recognized the magic in my Black ring but that didn't diminish them. If anything, they felt more ready to act now that a Lord was on their grounds.
Cygnus opened the door but I didn't move to enter with him just yet, "The, uh… the wards?"
He stopped himself, "Oh! Oh my, yes, Atlas. You'll have to excuse my absent mind. Nothing distracts me as much as talking about my girls, you understand? Atlas Black, House Greengrass welcomes you as a guest."
The weight of the wards suddenly felt welcoming as if to say, "Oh, why didn't you say so? Welcome in, dearie."
I pointedly didn't breathe a sigh of relief. If it was anyone else, I would have said forgetting about the wards was another Pure-Blood power game. But I couldn't bring myself to think that about Cygnus. He was simply too genuine for something like that, nothing like I was expecting from a Gray Pure-Blood. I'll be honest, I genuinely liked him.
I smiled at my new friend, "It's fine. Shall we?"
He grinned back at me, "Of course, Atlas! Come, come meet my lovely family."
We barely made it into the manor's foyer before we were greeted by that lovely family of his, "Daddy~!"
"Astoria!" Cygnus greeted his youngest daughter with equal enthusiasm.
A ball of white hair and joy, Astoria launched herself into her father's arms. Cygnus caught her and spun her around, laughing all the while. After a few moments of that, Astoria turned her attention to me.
"Hello, Professor Atlas~!"
"We're not at Hogwarts, Astoria. You can just call me Atlas."
She giggled, "Not 'big brother'?"
"We'll see," I hedged, not committing to anything.
"We will, Lord Black," An unfamiliar feminine voice said. "That is, after all, why we're here."
"Partially why," Cygnus jumped in. "We're also just socializing for socialization's sake. Atlas, I'd like you to meet my darling wife, Ada Greengrass."
"A pleasure, Lady Greengrass," I said as she approached me. "Atlas Black. Soon-to-be Heir Black once again, only this time I'll actually know that fact."
She eyed me curiously, "You don't wish to hold onto your title as Lord Black?"
I chuckled, "Not particularly. Between teaching and my other Houses, I have enough on my plate as is."
"Hmm…" Ada just hummed and extended a hand to me.
I stared at it for half a second before realizing the implication. When I did, I took her hand and bent down to lay a kiss on the air above her knuckles. Standing straight, she nodded, seemingly satisfied with my literal lip service.
I took the moment between speaking to observe Ada and Astoria. I already knew Astoria as her professor but this was the first time we were meeting outside of our usual setting. And I'd never seen her dressed in this manner. Her outfit was modest and old-fashioned but not stuffy. The long skirt of her crimson dress swished with her every movement.
Ada looked much like her daughter, except for the bright smile that was constantly present on Astoria's face. Instead, Ada's face looked like it was carved from marble by the most skilled sculptors. Her dress was different as well, much more form-fitting and clingy in a very elegant way. Its pitch-black color contrasted dramatically with her pale skin and hair.
"Where is Daphne, Dear?" Cygnus asked his wife, setting Astoria down so he could wrap her in a hug as well.
"The kitchens, Darling," Ada replied, laying a soft peck on his cheek. "I sent her to check on the food. She'll be joining us soon enough."
"Wonderful! Simply wonderful!" Cygnus declared. "Come, Atlas, sit and drink and you can tell us about how our little Astoria is doing in school!"
He took his wife onto his arm and led the way from the foyer into the dining room. I found myself escorting Astoria in a similar way. She clung to me, giggling, but surprisingly didn't invade my space too much for once. It was just something I noticed as I sat her down and took my own place at the elegantly understated dining table within Greengrass Manor.
Ada snapped her fingers and a bottle of wine appeared on the table before her. Another snap and the wine poured itself. Even Astoria got a small glass. One of the glasses was filled but left unattended - for Daphne, I assumed.
"So, Lord Black, tell us… How is Hogwarts treating you and our daughters these days?" Ada asked, sipping carefully from her glass.
"First of all, call me Atlas," I said, pausing to take a drink and gather my thoughts. How to tell a pair of loving parents that their youngest daughter was one of the most loveable little demons I'd ever met? Not on par with Luna but pretty close…
Astoria interrupted me before I could speak, "It's great~! Just before the Yule Ball, I managed to transfigure a cuppa tea into pure fire~!"
Cygnus looked fit to burst with pride but Ada just raised an eyebrow at her youngest, "Astoria…"
Astoria averted her eyes from her mother, giggling to herself and blushing, "Sorry…"
I sighed, "Unfortunately, she's not lying. She did, in fact, transfigure tea and a teacup into pure fire. Not set them on fire, mind you. But transfigure them straight into flames. Even Minerva was baffled by the development. I believe her leading theory right now has something to do with how heat is used in the tea-making process…"
"Hahaha~! That's my girl! And what of Daphne?" Cygnus asked eagerly, laughing at his youngest's magical blunder.
"Daphne's brilliant," I honestly praised. "She completes her assignments well. She answers questions and pays attention in class. She's quick as a whip with her wand and her wit in equal measure. Perhaps too quick of wit… I think some of her remarks cut deeper than she realizes."
"Not my fault the Ravenclaws aren't as smart as they think they are, the Gryffindors are more buffoon than lion (except for Granger, I suppose), the Hufflepuffs are more concerned with smoking their herbs than studying unless it's together, and many of my own housemates couldn't find their heads up their asses even if they were given a torch…" A monotone voice said from the dining room's entrance.
I turned to greet Daphne… and almost immediately swallowed wine down the wrong pipe.
"Daphne?!" Ada gasped, scandalized.
"Yes, Mother?" Daphne's responding tone was so bored that I could have assumed nothing was wrong.
"What are you wearing?!" Ada hissed.
What indeed… Daphne Greengrass was a study of white and black. Her hair - perhaps it was dyed? - Was as black as ink. Her eyes were shrouded in dark mascara and her lips were painted black. A plethora of piercings - so silver that they shined white - hung from her ears.
A thin black choker wrapped around her slender throat. A comfortable-looking black Muggle tee shirt draped her torso, complete with a cute skull over her heart. It was short-sleeved, revealing tattoos on her arms that I was sure weren't normally there beneath her robes. A black, pleated skirt covered her lower half, but only just. And what it didn't cover was crisscrossed enticingly by sheer fishnet stockings.
Cygnus and Astoria just looked confused, "Uh, Mother? You already saw her outfit earlier… Why are you confused now?"
While decidedly Muggle, nothing about Daphne's attire was outright offensive. Well, the tattoos might have been pressing the issue but they weren't what Ada and I reacted to. When I (and Ada as well, I assume) looked at Daphne's tee shirt, text flashed into existence on the back of a simple but clever spell.
"Break my choker."
Judging by their reactions, Astoria and Cygnus couldn't see the text. Daphne had spelled it there for mine and Ada's enjoyment alone. She didn't smirk but we could both see the amusement in her eyes.
"Yes, Mother, why are you so confused?"
From the way Ada sputtered, I had a feeling Ada didn't get flustered often. Cygnus only added fuel to the fire.
"Indeed, Dear. It's a bit Muggle but you know how Daphne is about these things. I think she looks wonderful! Why, I may even have to get one of those tattoos as well!"
Eventually, Ada settled into just glaring at her daughter and the spell on her shirt, forcing out through gritted teeth, "… Never mind. My eyes must be mistaken."
"Are your eyes mistaken as well, Professor Atlas?" Daphne asked, straight-faced as can be.
"Uh…" I hesitated, glancing at Cygnus. He didn't deserve to be a part of Daphne's prank. And she obviously agreed, excluding him for a reason. Astoria as well but that was likely because she wouldn't be able to keep the secret.
"Yes… yes, I believe they are. Must be the wine. I think I'll abstain for the rest of the night."
The corners of Daphne's lips twitched, "… Anyway, dinner's ready."
Cygnus, the wholesome man that he was, moved the conversation along like nothing had happened, "Splendid! Sit, Daphne. Let's eat!"
Daphne did and Cygnus clapped his hands, causing plates to appear before us via House-Elf-Express. The dinner itself was a simple thing. A roast, some assorted vegetables, a slice of bread, and a side of soup. The conversation was also kept simple as we ate. Except, that is, for the side-eyed glares Ada kept shooting Daphne's shirt.
"How was work, Daddy?" Astoria asked.
Cygnus laughed uproariously, easily compensating for the understated tension between Daphne and Ada, "Barely work as always, my dear! It was certainly interesting though! Atlas' parents were exonerated. Shameful business that. Good to see it being put right.
"And Atlas' voting bloc put forward some intriguing proposals and reforms. You should have heard the 'mot's reaction! Ha! Narcissa was as canny as ever but it seems she's found a new cause to fight for under Atlas."
"Oh? What kinds of reforms do you have planned, Atlas?" Ada asked, deeply interested in the politics of the Wizengamot.
I shrugged, "That's mostly Narcissa's area of expertise. I only advised her of how I expected her to act from now on. In this session, she focused on making things better for the Werewolves. I believe Half-Blood inheritance rights are next on our agenda, then Muggle-born discrimination after that."
"Interesting… Do you see yourself as a champion for the wronged in our society, Atlas?"
"I don't know if I'd say champion… But I'm certainly looking to shake things up in that regard."
"I see…" Putting aside her frustration for a moment, Ada glanced at Daphne.
Daphne replied with her gaze instead of words, seemingly saying, "I told you so."
"So, Daphne," I said after a moment of considering silence. "How did you get so into Muggle culture?"
"Tracy Davis," Daphne's voice was bland but not bored, something I was used to from our classes together. "She's a Half-Blood on her mother's side. We sometimes take expeditions into the Muggle world."
"I, uh, like the style you've picked up there," I complimented.
Again, Daphne smugly caught her mother's gaze, "Thank you, Professor Atlas. At least someone appreciates it…"
I chuckled awkwardly, feeling like I was caught between the mother-daughter pair, "Just Atlas, Daphne. I'm not your professor here. Hell, I'm not much of a real professor at Hogwarts either."
"That's not true!" Astoria cut in. "You're great~! Easily my favorite~! Your lessons make it feel like you actually get your students~! And you're so young~!"
"That's why I said that, Astoria," I explained, holding in a smile. "I'm not much older than either of you. I'm closer to a Seventh Year than a real professor. And I'll admit, sometimes that fact gives me a bit of Imposter Syndrome. Like I don't belong amongst the staff or like I didn't earn my position in the same way they all did."
"You belong," Daphne said firmly. "You wouldn't be there otherwise. Not like Dumbledore is an idiot. He wouldn't hire you for no reason."
I chuckled, "Albus is many things but I think I can agree with you on that. He's certainly not an idiot. A fool at times, maybe, and just as flawed as you or I. But he's not an idiot."
Ada looked at me with a calculating expression in her eyes, "You're close to Dumbledore? Close enough to count on his support?"
"I consider him a friend and he's said he considers me the same. Of course, working for him probably helps as well. And our goals happen to align in most things, just not the method in which they're achieved. Still, I'd venture he would be willing to stick his neck out for me if he had to."
At this point, Ada and Daphne seemed to be having a whole conversation between themselves, silently and with only the looks in their eyes. I left them to it. I'd been expecting something like this since Cygnus told me that his wife was the real power behind the Greengrass name.
Dinner came to a natural close and we adjourned to the family's sitting room, led by Cygnus' infectious smile. Two elegant Victorian-era couches sat at right angles from each other around a small tea table. As expected, I ended up next to Daphne on one couch while the other three Greengrasses crowded together on the other. The couch wasn't as comfortable as my Lazy Boy but that just fit the conversation I knew was coming.
Biting the bullet, I broached the subject first, "So… I suppose we should talk about the Black-Greengrass contract."
"What's there to talk about other than setting the date?" Ada asked rhetorically.
"Whether it's even happening at all?" I answered incredulously. "I'm not against the idea of an alliance between our Houses but surely there's a better way. Not that I wouldn't marry Daphne, of course. She's a wonderful young woman."
Ada shook her head in firm denial, "Nothing will tie us together as thoroughly as marriage. I need at least that much of a guarantee before I throw House Greengrass in with you and the changes you promise, Lord Black."
"Well, I won't outright marry someone I barely know if I can help it."
"Then we set up some kind of courting arrangement for the two of you."
"Won't people talk? A professor marrying his student so openly?"
"You are a Lord. Even when you return to 'merely' Heir Black, you will still be the Lord of House Malfoy, Parkinson, and Yaxley. It is well within your right to marry who you wish. The same goes for Daphne as Heiress Greengrass. Besides, the Pure-Bloods will understand."
"I have other lovers."
"We know."
Seeing that Ada would not be swayed, I sighed, "Fine… But I have one condition if we're going through with this. The metaphorical keys to the contract are to be left in Daphne's hands.
"No matter what happens, she makes the final decision. If she wants to marry me after we court for however long, I'll accept her with open arms. If she doesn't, that is entirely her choice and I will respect it. I expect you to do the same."
Ada thought for a moment, glancing at Daphne, "… That is acceptable. In return, I shall help with the courting arrange-…"
"No," I shot her down instantly. "We'll court and get to know each other at our own pace. If you believe Daphne is old enough to marry me, then you'll have to accept that she's old enough to handle dating."
I stared Ada down, not willing to budge on this aspect. Daphne snorted softly in humor beside me. Ada's gaze darted to her daughter. I don't know what she saw there but when she looked back at me, she conceded to my point.
Looking like she'd sucked on something sour, Ada obviously wasn't a woman used to giving up control, "Very well… I suppose these things can be left to Daphne's discretion. And I'm glad we could come to a… satisfactory agreement. To the future prosperity of our Houses."
I turned to Daphne, "You're okay with all of this?"
She came the closest to smiling that I'd seen yet, "Yeah… I can work with this. Thanks. For, like, thinking about my opinion and all…"
I returned her half-smile, "Of course, Daphne. I look forward to getting to know you properly."
"Wonderful!" Cygnus exclaimed. "Thank Merlin all of the stressful negotiations are done! I, for one, am exhausted! I think we could all use a little treat!"
"Cygnus, Dear," Ada said, rolling her eyes. "You didn't actually do anything. Atlas, Daphne, and I were the only ones negotiating."
Cygnus blinked, "Then why do I feel so stressed?"
Astoria giggled, adding her two cents, "Because Daddy is bad at being an adult and talking about adult things~!"
With an unrepentant grin for his daughter, Cygnus agreed, "Too true, my little Story! That's what I have your mother and older sister for! So you and I can enjoy life as it was meant to be enjoyed! With ice cream!"
Cygnus clapped his hands, summoning dessert via House-Elf-Express. Astoria cheered, more than eager to play along with her father's exuberance. Daphne and Ada rolled their eyes in sync, coming together for the first time I'd seen all evening.
I just smiled, enjoying the scene of a wholesome, loving family. I didn't get many chances to see something like this and I wanted all of the examples I could get for later in my life. Especially now that Septima and I were actively trying for a child.
My future family seemed to keep growing infinitely and yet, I couldn't bring myself to be annoyed with that idea. Perhaps it was only deserved to make up for a lackluster childhood. Whatever the reason, the Greengrass family was an example I was definitely going to take inspiration from.
The traditions and influences of the past could go rot. That was quickly becoming my motto and I would be remiss to not bring that same energy to my family. The old House Black, the blood purists who held Wizarding society by the scruff, weren't welcome in my future. There were better Pure-Blood families to take after. My coven, family, and new Pure-Blood House deserved nothing less.
29: Black Spring Cleaning
"It was only a two-week break! And it's been nearly a month since then! How is it that all of you - not you, Granger - have forgotten the proper way to remove the spines of a Lionfish without poisoning yourselves?! I may as well have Madam Pomfrey take up permanent residence in my classroom! Don't feel bad for the damned fish! It's already dead!" Severus Snape ranted at his combined Gryffindor and Slytherin class.
I sat in one corner of the room, hiding a smirk. Potions class was much more entertaining when you weren't on the opposite end of Snape's ravings. It also helped that, as his peer now, I knew he wasn't trying to be mean. Severus was not the most socially adept man I've ever met. Honestly, I thought that fact - along with his undeniable bias - should have precluded him from teaching but there was no denying that he knew his subject.
It was a rare thing for him to allow me to assist with his classes but sometimes - particularly with this group of students - he felt an extra pair of eyes was necessary. Today was one of those times. The class had been going well until two separate students managed to stick themselves with the business end of a Lionfish spine, sending themselves straight to the Infirmary to see Madam Pomfrey.
That one of these students was Neville wasn't really a surprise. I liked the young Pure-Blood and thought he had much more potential than others saw in him, but Potions was not where that potential shined. Snape was of the opinion that he needed to keep pushing the Longbottom Heir and eventually, he would learn from his mistakes.
I didn't share that opinion, knowing that Snape's looming and the pressure was half the reason Neville consistently failed. But this was still Snape's classroom and I hadn't been able to sway him to my way of thinking yet. Really, though, the fact that a Herbology prodigy like Neville would fail an entirely herb-based potion under Snape's watchful eye should have clued the professor in. I doubt any other student in the Castle knew the herb reaction table better than Neville and knowing the ingredients was half of potion-making.
"Severus?" I interrupted his rant to the relief of the entire class. "Perhaps we should continue with the lesson. I'm sure the students understand your frustrations and will strive to do better."
" Suurrrreeee, we will…" Heather muttered just loud enough to be audible.
Snape pinched the bridge of his nose, "Salazar, help me… Very well. Today, we will be brewing Calming Draught. I shall be sampling the best samples you manage to produce. Merlin knows I'll need it. Instructions are on the board. If you have any questions, ask my colleague. Not me."
I rolled my eyes. I understood Severus better now that I was his peer but that didn't mean I liked him any more than I did as his student. 'Instructions are on the board' always bugged me the most. Something that only got worse once I'd become a professor myself.
Ignoring my irritation, I stood and began walking the rows of tables, offering my help wherever it was needed. I might not be able to change Snape's teaching habits but I could try my best to compensate for them.
A novel thought struck me as I did. I had a startling number of connections to this group of students in particular. Heather and Hermione for obvious reasons. Lavender and Parvati for their constant campaign of teasing - tenuous as that connection may have been. Draco and Pansy as their Lord. And Daphne as her betrothed.
It was an interesting observation but nothing more. I was determined to keep it that way. I wouldn't show bias as obviously as Snape favored his Slytherins. The fact that I was connected to students on both sides of the House divide helped that determination.
Walking the aisles, I offered advice and guidance here and there. 'Instructions on the board' could only do so much. Sometimes the students needed more clarification and even the Slytherins weren't likely to ask for it from Snape.
Suddenly, I felt the magical artifact on my wrist buzz. I instantly began to look around for the cause of the reaction. I zeroed in on the source. Pansy Parkinson was bent over her cauldron, looking inside as the potion began to bubble menacingly. A moment of panic appeared in her eyes but I was already moving.
A second later, the cauldron erupted upwards like a geyser. I clutched Pansy to my chest with my back to the eruption. Thankfully, instead of spewing outward, something contained the stream of explosive potion in a vertical line until it evaporated into steam. The potioneering charms in the classroom did the rest of the work for my bracelet.
"Okay, Pansy?" I asked once the violent reaction calmed down.
"Y-Yeah…" She replied shakily.
The eruption attracted the attention it should have from the rest of the class and Snape was soon storming over to us with a demand for information on his lips.
"What just happened?!"
"An explosive reaction. I think that should be obvious," I replied flatly.
"Yes," Snape forced out through gritted teeth. "I must have misspoke. Why did it happen and why did the eruption happen like that?"
Pansy answered before I could continue snarking Snape, "I-It's my fault, Professor. I was clumsy and accidentally knocked a bit of Salamander Blood into my potion."
"Foolish girl," Snape spat. "Who knows who could have been hurt?! We should all be covered in boiling potion right now!"
"But we aren't," I pointed out in Pansy's defense.
"And I need to know why that is! And how you even reacted before me!"
I shrugged, holding up my arm to show the artifact hanging from my wrist, "Because of this. It warned me about a volatile potion and contained the inevitable reaction like it's supposed to."
Snape paled, his mouth suddenly going dry, "A-A Potioner's Bangle…? W-Where did you get that?"
"The Black Vaults. We found a bunch of useful stuff there."
After gaping at the artifact like it was his holy grail, Snape grew deathly serious, "How much?"
I blinked, "What?"
"I'll buy it from you. No, I must! Anything. I'll empty the school's Potions budget!"
"Well… it would be much more useful for your daily duties… I suppose I could be open to negotiation."
This was a pleasant development. Who knows what I could extort out of a Potions Master as payment? It seemed that the Black Vaults were bringing me an unexpected third windfall - after the gold and artifacts themselves…
Spoiler: Pansy
I can't remember if I've posted pictures of her in the actual story and I can't be assed to go back and check. So just in case, here you go…
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To be honest, I love Pansy's character design. When she's not relegated to a minor villain in a story, that is. Probably because she's usually portrayed as goth even if I'm not having her as the primary goth girl of the story.
IIIII
"What about this one?" Hermione asked, coming up to where I was sorting through items.
"A deck of cards? Seems surprisingly uneventful."
"According to Luna, they're Exploding Snap cards. Only the explosions have been dialed up to eleven."
"Oh, that's where those went!" Bella happily skipped over to us and took the cards from Hermione's hands. "Mother took them away from me after I accidentally blew up one of the House Elves with them."
Hermione gasped, "That's horrible!"
Bella shrugged, "It was just Kreacher. And he survived. Not like House Elves care about concussions."
"Put it in the useless but dangerous pile along with these glasses that let you see ghosts," I instructed, handing a pair of smoky glasses to Hermione as well.
Her curiosity got the better of her and she cocked her head, "How is the ability to see ghosts useless or dangerous?"
"We're Wizards, Hermione," I reminded her. "We can see ghosts anyway. And they don't let you do anything other than see them. All of them. At once. They're dangerous because they're overwhelming."
"Oh…" Hermione blushed. "Right. I forgot about that."
She went off to do as I'd instructed, sorting the two items into the correct pile. I went back to looking through the rest of the artifacts that crowded the Black Vaults. That was the entire reason we were here, after all.
I wouldn't know how immediately useful this trip would be until a week later when I exchanged the Potioner's Bangle for a brewing voucher from Severus Snape. I had plans of having him brew Felix Felicis (Liquid Luck) for the coven. That artifact alone doubled its value since no one in the coven was particularly invested in potion brewing.
And that wasn't even counting the countless other useful artifacts we were finding here in the vault. The Potioner's Bangle was only the tip of the iceberg. The Blacks were an old family and hoarding seemed to run in our blood. Generations of artifacts crowded shelves, trunks, and wardrobes, or were even scattered haphazardly across the floor.
This trip was brought about a couple of days after the Yule Break ended. I realized I didn't actually need a Curse-Breaker to go through the vault. Bella and I were both full-blooded Blacks and she'd grown up in the family. She knew most of the curses and where that failed, she knew what to be cautious of. The rest of the slack was picked up by Luna and her magic eyes.
So Bella and Luna were guaranteed to accompany me on this trip. Hermione made our group four, unable to keep herself from indulging her curiosity. None of the other girls wanted to come. Septima and Aurora had teaching duties to take care of and Heather was showing Gabrielle around Hogsmeade this weekend
I made sure to have us work in pairs as we sorted through the Black Vault. It was the only reasonable way we would make a dent in this mess.
Hermione was with Luna. And funnily enough, Luna was the one supervising this time in that dynamic. Her only job was to keep Hermione from hurting herself with cursed items and identify the magic she could see. Bella was working with me, using her familiarity with the family to identify curses and teach me what to look out for.
We were separating the artifacts into several distinct piles. Useless, useless but dangerous, useful, dangerous, and dangerous but potentially useful.
It seemed that my System only felt like identifying items after I had some idea of what they did and held them for some time. By that point, the provided descriptions were only a little better than flavor text. They did make me question my own sanity multiple times though.
Some highlights of each category were as follows…
Stone of Healing A Dull Gray Stone. When Struck Against Something, It Heals Equal to the Damage Done
Throwing Brick of Returning
Like a Returning Throwing Dagger, But a Brick…
Quill of Lies
An Emerald-Feathered Quill. Anything Written by This Quill is Only Eligible to the Person(s) It is Addressed to. Anyone Else Trying to Read the Writing Will Read Only Lies. Also, May be Used as a Lie Detector
Hex Eater Blade
A One-Handed Sword with a Glowing Purple Jewel in its Crossguard. Eats All Magic with an Insatiable Appetite, Including the User's. Inert in its Sheathe
Book of Misspells
A Spellbook That Only Contains Wrong Spells. Some Spells Even Seem Randomly Generated. There's no Telling What Will Happen…
The Hex Eater Blade wasn't actually the artifact I was most wary of. I'd unsheathed it a crack and the magical absorption effect was gradual. There was a definite drain but nothing that could be considered immediately fatal. I'm sure being stabbed by it would change that line of thought but I digress.
The artifact that freaked me out was the Book of Misspells. At least we knew what the Hex Eater Blade did. The spells in the Book of Misspells were entirely random. And with magic that was just about the last thing you wanted from a spell. Still, I couldn't deny that it might be useful in a fight. If you didn't know what the spell you were casting did, the enemy sure as hell didn't either…
And those artifacts were only the highlights of our haul so far, from silly as a brick to dangerous as a sword. There were more items placed all along that range.
A flute that was supposed to soothe Dragons. That would have been useful during the First Task…
A ring with the Gemino Curse enchanted onto it. Duplication glitch get?
A wand with a pair of books strapped to it with metal wire like some sort of improvised club. "What a waste of good books. How barbaric…" Hermione muttered.
It was as Hermione was debating whether she should burn the abomination of an artifact or rescue the books that I noticed something. Luna seemed to be sorting certain things into a sixth pile. I only noticed as she tried to sneakily slide something on top, the item itself catching my eye.
"Luna, is that a gun?" I asked, baffled more than anything else. "Where did you even find one in here? And what's this pile for?"
"Oh, that old thing. Meh, too Muggle for my taste. It belonged to an old Black who was exiled to the Colonies and made a name for himself out west. I want to say, my Granduncle…? Anyway, he really took to the culture, if I remember right. Should be a black cowboy hat around here somewhere that belonged to him too," Bella said.
Luna perked up, "Really? That'd fit perfectly~!"
"Woah, woah," I held up my hands. "Slow down. Fit perfectly with what? And put the gun down, Luna. Finger off the trigger. Don't! Point it at anyone!"
As she did what I asked, I examined the pile she'd been putting together. It looked to be all the makings of an outfit of some kind. Dragonhide half-robes in black. A Dragonhide vest, also in black. A belt with way too many pouches and slots. A pair of slick gloves and boots. In fact, everything here seemed to be made of Dragonhide and was as black as the night.
Even the gun was black. Obviously, it wasn't made of Dragonhide. But the black iron of the barrel and chamber and the darkly stained wood of the handle gave it a very similar feel to the intimidating scaled clothing. It was a sleek revolver like something you would see in an old Western movie and it had likely been charmed extensively judging by the fact that it was still in pristine condition after sitting in the vault for years. I could feel it calling out to my magic, requesting to be used, to shoot, to duel.
I picked up the revolver, fiddling with it for a second until I figured out how to open the chamber. I didn't know much about firearms but making sure it was empty was just common sense. As was keeping my finger away from the trigger and making sure to point the business end away from anyone I didn't intend to shoot.
Seeing it empty, I turned the gun over in my hand, trying to figure out why it was calling out to my magic. There was a definite pull to duel. This artifact wanted nothing more than to be used for the purpose it was crafted for. And as a weapon - particularly one as personal and storied as this one -, that purpose was righteous combat.
My magic naturally seeped into the black iron, filling the revolver as if attuning it to me. As it did, I felt the parts that weren't visible on the outside. A wand core sat within the revolver's grip and I could feel negative space on the chamber and barrel in the shape of a Rune set.
The wand core was like nothing else I'd ever felt. It seemed to hop excitedly as my magic tapped it, full of an almost frantic energy. It felt rigid and hard, almost to the point of brittleness. It wasn't especially pure or fire-themed like Unicorn Hair or a Phoenix Feather. Nor was it flexible and powerful like Dragon Heartstring. If anything, it felt… skittish and unpredictably dangerous like a cornered prey animal.
Black Steel Dueling Revolver Once Belonged to Sergio Leone Black AKA 'Angel Eyes'. A Six-Chamber Revolver Crafted From Black Steel and Black Walnut Wood. Based on the Famous Colt Single Action Army, This Revolver Uses a Double-Action Trigger Instead of the Classic Single. Charmed For Easy Maintenance and Ease of Use. A Jackalope Antler Has Been Included in the Grip so This Weapon May be Used as a Magical Focus. Runes Within the Mechanisms Allow Each Shot to Change Damage Types, Regardless of the Ammunition Used. 10 to Attack, 5 to Dueling, 3 to Accuracy, 2 to Wanded Magic
Spoiler: Black Steel Dueling Revolver [img: https/i./564x/94/e7/27/94e7270f092b80b4a6440b24819dbcf5.jpg]
I turned back to Luna with a glare, "You still haven't told me what all of this is for, Missy!"
Luna smiled as if she'd done nothing wrong, "Why, your costume, of course!"
"Costume? What?"
"Oh, were you expecting spandex?"
"Luna…" I trailed off warningly.
"I know that's the traditional route but I don't think it would suit you, Atlas. Wizards aren't much for tight-fitting bodysuits. Though perhaps it would be nice to give people a better view of your bum… Hmmm…" Luna tapped her chin in thought.
I groaned, "Luna, is this about the supervillain stuff?"
Luna blinked, "Yes…? What else would it be about?"
"Anything else?" I practically pleaded. "I don't particularly want to be a supervillain."
"Oh, okay…" Luna seemingly accepted my protest. "You can be an anti-hero with villainous leanings then!"
I sighed, "That's the best I'm going to get, isn't it?"
Luna nodded, "Anything less and you won't have any real street cred."
"I don't really see what the problem is. From what Luna's shown me, these 'supervillains' seem like Dark Lords but better," Bella added her two cents.
"I think that's part of the problem," Hermione said, all too amused with this. "Atlas doesn't seem to want to give in to the dark side and become evil."
"Then that's not a problem at all. Not all supervillains or anti-heroes are evil!" Luna helpfully explained. "Some just know that they can't enact the change they want to see in the world by working within the bounds of the system."
"Ah, yes," Hermione nodded. "Like civil disobedience. Only not really civil. Certainly disobedient though."
"Is it really civil disobedience if you kidnap the Effiel Tower and hold it for ransom?"
"… No. At that point, you are just an actual supervillain. In fact, kidnapping a national monument could reasonably be considered terrorism."
"Drats," Luna tsked. "There goes Operation Crowdfunding…"
"And terrorism is bad and largely ineffective," I added just to be sure. "I'd rather just lead a whole revolution at that point. At least then we'd actually get something done and could start working directly on the changes that follow."
Luna and Hermione shared a look, "That's… good to know…"
Dread crept up my spine, "Why is that good to know?"
Luna quickly changed the subject, "Anyway~! You should try it all on!"
"We're still on this?" I knew it was futile but I tried anyway.
"Oh, just play along, Atlas," Hermione chided me. "Think of it as any other outfit. There's nothing particularly 'supervillainish' about it other than the color. And I happen to think you'll look quite dashing."
"Fine, I suppose you're right…"
"And don't forget the gun!" Luna called. "There should be a holster for it on the belt! I think the whole outfit was meant to go together."
"It was," Bella confirmed, having watched the whole interplay with an amused smirk on her face. "Angel Eyes was one Hell of a character. Even for a Black."
I didn't even bother trying to cover myself as I changed, simply getting on with it. The girls had already seen all of me. Though by the looks I was getting, they weren't going to get tired of the view any time soon. Ego sufficiently stroked, I dressed myself in the outfit Luna had laid out for me. The only part of my original outfit I kept was the plain white dress shirt I had been wearing, putting the vest on over it.
"Hmm…" Luna hummed consideringly, circling and examining me from every angle. "Something's missing…"
"Accio Angel Eyes' Hat," Bella cast, catching the hat as it came flying at her.
"I'm not wearing a cowboy hat, Luna," I deadpanned.
"How about a poncho?" Hermione suggested with a small smirk.
I turned my deadpan stare onto her but didn't say anything.
"You're right," She nodded as if I did reply. "A poncho doesn't really scream 'supervillain', does it?"
"Speak for yourself!" Luna called, already digging through a wardrobe in search of one.
"Still, we need something to add that final bit of flare…" Hermione took up Luna's job of examining me from every angle.
"Would some type of mask work?" Bella asked, obviously enjoying playing dress up with her baby boy too much.
"No, I don't think we want to hide his handsome image," Hermione dismissed Bella's suggestion. "It might send the wrong message or remind people of the Death Eaters too much."
She continued, "We want something simple but effective. A bit of color wouldn't be remiss either. Any luck, Luna?"
Luna returned to us sullenly, "No… I only found a serape, no poncho."
"And that wouldn't work?"
"It's not the same… And it's too bright. It'll just clash with the rest of the costume. The pattern was pretty though."
"So no progress?"
"Seems like it."
"Uh, isn't the half-robe overcoat doing the same job as a poncho anyway?" I asked.
Hermione blinked, looking at me again, "Huh, I guess it is. A full poncho would just cover all of the interesting intricate bits."
Luna had an idea, "Oh! Let's try this! Atlas, can you hold the coat open for me?"
I did as asked and Luna produced her wand. She tried hitting the inside of my new half-robe with a spell. A Color-changing Charm, if I identified it correctly. Nothing happened. She cocked her head to the side in confusion for a second.
"Right, Dragonhide…" She quickly realized where she went wrong.
"We'll have to take it to a professional if you want to change anything about the outfit," I said.
"Will we?" Hermione questioned, not waiting for an answer. "Dragonhide is resistant to magic but not to physical changes. Where is…? Ah, I'll just conjure some chalk."
She approached me with a piece of white chalk now in her hand. I stood still, giving her free reign to try whatever idea she had. She directed me to let the robe fall closed so that it lay flat on my chest and she could start to work.
The drawing didn't take long. It was literally just one stroke but I recognized the shape from Elder Futhark. Kenaz. Basically just a less-than-symbol. The traditional Rune for Torch. Other meanings included Inspiration, Energy, and Improvement.
Hermione wasn't finished there. The Rune wasn't anchored or powered and so she proceeded to do one of those things. It would have been nearly impossible to anchor the Rune on Dragonhide without more preparation but she could power the chalk itself.
The Kenaz Rune began to glow with the power of Hermione's magic. It flared and flickered like fire, like a Torch.
Hermione smirked at me smugly, "A Torch in the darkness. Be the change, the Inspiration, you want to see in the world."
I rolled my eyes goodnaturedly, "That's certainly one interpretation."
I looked around for a mirror to look at myself in. I almost summoned the first one I saw until I remembered why that one was in the 'useless but dangerous' category. It only showed your reflection in the ultraviolet spectrum. Oh, and it was haunted. With ultraviolet ghosts. Because why not…
In the end, I ended up just conjuring my own mirror. When I finally saw my reflection, I couldn't help but whistle quietly. Without the hat or poncho, my new outfit didn't actually look very cowboy-ish. It just looked like an old-fashioned suit, something that would blend in perfectly with the Wizarding world. Though the hat would certainly complete the outfit…
The black Dragonhide was intimidating and protective. And it wasn't even uncomfortable. It was obviously well-worn and I was thankful for the cleaning charms that had to be on it. I didn't want to consider wearing something that was caked with century-old dust from the American Old West.
Black Rider Outfit A Well-Worn Outfit Made of Hebridean Black Dragonhide. Comes as a Set Consisting of Vest, Overcoat, Pants, Boots, and Gloves. 2 to Body, 10 to Defense
Black Rider Hat
A Black Cowboy Hat. Keeps the sun out of your eyes and looks cool as sin doing so. C'mon, you know you want to~
Spoiler: Something like this [img: https/i./564x/97/64/7c/97647c90e2164f13b042a6266d89c0b6.jpg]
[img: https/i./564x/af/c5/46/afc54678cc9e29b5cdeee6efc54a45ae.jpg]
I sighed, resigned to admitting-… "You were right, Luna."
"Oh? Thank you~!" There wasn't an ounce of smugness in Luna's voice.
The same could not be said for Hermione, "And what about me?"
"You were also right, Hermione. The Rune is a nice touch."
"Ooooooh~ yeah~ That's the stuff," Hermione shuddered in pleasure.
"We should get back to Spring cleaning though…" I said, shifting focus back to why we were here.
"You're not going to take off your costume, are you?" Luna pleaded with puppy dog eyes.
I easily caved, "I suppose I can break it in for a bit longer if it'll make you happy."
"And the hat? Just to try it on?"
"I suppose…" I sighed.
"Yay~! By the way, you should start again by looking in that trunk. There's only one thing inside and I think it'll be interesting," Luna hinted, her eyes seeming to glow slightly.
"O… kay…" I cautiously accepted her advice.
The trunk Luna pointed me to was relatively unremarkable. It was only about a quarter of the size of a normal trunk. A bit more than a hand's width wide and just a bit longer than my forearm. It was made of simple, plain wood and held shut by a small brass latch. I popped the latch.
"A grappling hook? Luna, why would I need a grappling hook when I can apparate?"
"Presentation~!"
IIIII
Four days before the Second Task, Heather and I were sitting in the Room of Requirement, putting the finishing touches on our plan.
"-And that should be everything in order," Heather said, barely containing her mischievous excitement. "Have you got the little thingies?"
"Little thingies? Really, Heather?" I raised an incredulous eyebrow at her.
"What?! You and Hermione were the ones who put them together. Did you even remember to name them?" Heather made excuses for her poor choice of words.
I pretended to sniff pompously, "Of course, we did. They're called 'Freezey-Thingy-inators'."
"And you still deny that you're a supervillain?" Heather deadpanned for a moment before breaking out into giggles.
I chuckled along with her, "No, actually I just call them Ice Balls."
"Like that's any better," Heather said, still giggling.
"Well… They're ball-shaped… And they make ice."
"Please tell me Hermione has a better name for them."
I winced, "F.I.R.E…"
"Fire…? That… seems unintuitive."
"No, not fire. F.I.R.E. Frankly Icy Reaction Extenders."
Heather paused until she realized I wasn't joking, "… She's pants at acronyms, isn't she?"
"Quite pants."
"But they do work, right?"
"As far as we can tell? A little bit too well."
"We're… We're not going to freeze the whole Black Lake into a block of solid ice, are we?" Heather asked warily.
"Goodness, no. Do you know how much water is in a lake? Even a relatively small one like the Black Lake? Plus, the Black Lake is deep. Like, it's unusually deep for a lake that's only a half-mile in diameter. That's also why it's able to support so much life. The Merpeople, Grindylows, Kelpies… Jimothy… The Black Lake is honestly a small marvel," I explained to reassure Heather's worries.
"Have we thought through all of the consequences of this plan?" Heather began to show uncharacteristic caution as I listed some of the magical inhabitants of the Black Lake. "The Black Lake doesn't usually freeze over. Won't this affect the creatures that live there?"
I nodded, "Undoubtedly. But I feel like we've done our due diligence. The creatures should all be able to handle the sudden change. They're magical, after all. It's not as if we're trapping a colony of seals or a pod of dolphins beneath the ice or something. Besides, Hermione and I have done our best to make sure that only the water at the surface will change its temperature. The vast majority of the water within the lake won't even feel the difference. Think of it like self-contained ice. Magic is a wonderful thing like that."
Heather chuckled nervously, "I don't usually put this much thought into my pranks. Without you two, I'm sure I would have messed this whole thing up something fierce."
"You probably would have been forced to compete and ended up using something silly like Gillyweed," I added my chuckles to hers.
"If even that! I would have been forced to conjure a snorkel!"
"The Girl-Who-Snorkeled?"
Heather snorted, hitting me on the shoulder lightly, "Shnrk~! Prat."
I pulled her into me to get back at her and we fell into a comfortable silence for a few moments before Heather asked, "So everything's ready?"
"Everything's ready," I confirmed. "We just need to get the Ice Balls from Hermione and we can start."
As one, Heather and I turned to the other side of the room. Our gazes found Hermione there. She was pacing madly and looked about ready to start tearing her hair out, completely absorbed by something other than our planned prank. A piece of parchment was held in her hand and she scribbled or crossed something out now and again as she paced.
We could barely hear her practically spitting mumbled words to herself, "-And, of course! The French have problems with the venue. Which goes against the Puffs' idea of coziness. And the Claws are against the Puffs bringing the refreshments. Something, something brownies… And the Gryffindors don't trust the Slytherins in general… And Seamus keeps trying to sneak underage drinking onto the docket. Because why not?! It's not like we're trying to be productive or anything! And the damn Russians keep trying to help him! At least they've promised to teach us how to make Molotov Cocktails…"
Heather tried to get her best friend's attention, "Uh… Hermione…? Hermione? Hermione!"
"What?!" Hermione snapped, suddenly looking over at us with crazy eyes.
"What are you even doing?" I asked curiously.
"What does it look like?" Hermione grumbled. "I'm organizing the first gathering of the youth rev-…"
"Yeah? The what?"
"… Interhouse study session."
She obviously wasn't telling the whole story but I nodded anyway, "That's very mature of you, Hermione. I'm proud that you're willing to rise above House rivalries. Think you can take a break to help us find the Ice Balls?"
Hermione huffed, "Don't call them that. F.I.R.E. I worked hard on that acronym. The least you could do is use it. But yes. I think a short break would do me some good."
"Don't try too hard to please everyone," I advised as Hermione dipped into the place we were stashing the Ice Balls and brought them over to us.
She stopped and gave me a look that was dripping with sarcasm, "Ah, of course. Why haven't I tried that before…"
I pretended not to notice her tone, "Sometimes the smartest among us forget our common sense and good reason."
She growled at me, blushing while she did, "Grrr… I don't need the backhanded compliment, Atlas."
I shrugged, "If you say so. I'll just have to give you a normal compliment then. You're one of the smartest women I know, Hermione. Whatever you're planning will turn out just fine."
Hermione averted her eyes, "Whatever… Just get out of here and do the thing with the thing."
"Look at that. You're finally picking up my speech patterns, Hermione~!" Heather teased.
Hermione's glare didn't have any heat to it (unlike her cheeks) as she shooed us out of the Room, "Oh, just get out of here already! And don't come back until it's done!"
"Yes, Mistress Granger," Heather and I called out in sync as Hermione shut the door in our faces.
We shared a grin as the final sliver of Hermione's blush disappeared behind the door. At least we'd succeeded in taking Hermione's mind off of her worries for a few moments. Then the doors were opened again a moment later and the Ice Balls were shoved into my arms.
"So… You wanna get your broom?" I asked.
Heather grinned at me, "What, you don't want to risk our tattoos' flight Runes giving out over the lake?"
"Yep, not taking that chance over soon-to-be ice-cold water."
My deadpan tone was met with giggles, "Oh, alright, you big pansy~ You can ride with me. Just be sure to keep those hands to yourself, Teach~"
Soon enough, we were flying over the Black Lake under the cover of Heather's invisibility cloak, dropping Ice Balls at regular intervals. The cloak probably wasn't necessary but Heather insisted that it added to the pranking mood. By tomorrow morning, the Black Lake would be mostly covered in a foot of ice and the tournament's organizers would be freaking out as their plans for a dangerous hostage-taking Second Task were completely derailed…
30: Icy Icy Task
The mood in Dumbledore's office could be considered tense. At least, it was for four of the six people here. I was more amused by the others' anxieties than anything else. And Dumbledore was just like that always, taking amusement from the chaos around rather than dwelling on it.
"This is an utter disaster, Dumbledore!" Bagman exclaimed. "What are we to do?! I never saw the Black Lake freeze over during my years at Hogwarts!"
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled with amusement, "It is a rather strange and rare occurrence we seem to have encountered, isn't it?"
"An impossible one too," Crouch grunted. "I guarantee there's foul play involved, ya hear?"
"The Second Task is entirely derailed. We cannot access the lake any longer," Madam Maxime stated matter-of-factly.
"Oh? What a shame…" Dumbledore's tone didn't match his words.
I smirked, "Indeed. Now, you people can't kidnap anyone and use them for a daft competition. Or send our champions into a Scottish Loch in mid-February. Actually, this isn't a shame at all. Whoever came up with the original idea is a moron."
"Why are you even here, boy?" Crouch grumbled.
My gaze sharpened and turned to him, "Watch yourself, Crouch. I may not be Lord Black any longer but I am still my father's Heir. As for why I am here, I have only one thing to say: fairness. The other three champions all have someone to represent them. Yet you would leave my ward out to dry in the rain?"
"He has a point, Bartemius," Dumbledore said. "The other three champions have their school Heads to represent them. Young Heather technically does not fall under my authority when it comes to the tournament."
"Da. I agree. Is only fair," Karkaroff nodded.
"Oui but now we must decide what we will do about this 'disaster'… Personally, I agree that the original idea was tres-… quite silly," Madam Maxime added.
Dumbledore tutted at Crouch, "Tsk tsk, I told you so, Bartemius. Wanting to involve potentially unwilling participants was just a recipe for a disaster."
"Well, we had to make it interesting somehow! Not like the audience would even be able to watch the events with the entire Task taking place underwater. At least with the hostages, the stakes would keep people on the edge of their seats."
"Would they though?" I asked skeptically. "And you even thought of how boring the setting would make this Task for the audience but you were still going through with it? This entire thing sounds like a mess. How did it make it past the planning stage?"
"Well, you know… We figured at least one of the champions would be a Witch. We were hoping the sight of a beautiful young woman or two in a swimsuit would distract people from their boredom…" Bagman hesitantly admitted. "And to think we ended up with a Veela! It would have been glorious!"
"Close your traitorous mouth, Ludo!" Crouch hit his Ministry partner on the shoulder.
"English pig dog," Madam Maxime scowled. She wasn't alone. In fact, Dumbledore, Karkaroff, and I joined her as well.
"I've just had the most wonderful idea, folks," I said through my scowl. "Since Crouch and Bagman want to play games with our champions, I feel like we should turn the tables on them. Let's see how they like being ogled by a crowd in freezing weather."
Dumbledore immediately picked up on my idea with twinkling eyes and an understated, vindictive smirk, "Ah, brilliant. I'm sure I can convince Severus to brew some Genderbending Potion. He's always looking for an excuse to try out his more uncommon and curious recipes. They can be our-… What do the Muggles call it…? 'cheerleaders'?"
"Uh, Albus? I don't think they'll make for very good cheerleaders in their female forms. They're not the most attractive people as is…" I cautioned.
"I know," Dumbledore chuckled. "Why, that's part of the fun, isn't it?
Karkaroff straight-out snorted, "Hilarious. And they must drink potion in front of everyone. So they know."
Madam Maxime smirked at us, "Ah, Dumbledore, Professor Atlas. You are both such gentlemen. Helping get revenge for my dearly wronged Fleur. Simply sensational!"
Crouch sputtered, "You want us to do what?! P-Preposterous! No one would ever respect us again!"
"I don't believe you have any room to refuse, Bartemius my boy," Dumbledore dismissed condescendingly. "Think of this as a learning experience."
"What could I possibly learn from being forced to debase myself in such a way?!"
"Why, that's simple, my boy," Dumbledore grew serious, leaning forward in his seat to loom over Crouch and Bagman from behind the Headmaster's desk, "Don't fuck … with our students."
The air in the room seemed to freeze around Crouch. He went stiff as a board and paler than paper. Surprisingly, though, Bagman just adopted a considering expression.
"I think… I can work with this. I'm not above selling my body for profit and hype. I was a Quidditch Player for goodness sake. Just think of the wagers I could make as a woman, even temporarily! I might even be able to pay off the Goblins!"
"At least one of them is a good sport," Karkaroff muttered.
"Do not worry, Bartemius," Madam Maxime said with a smirk. "I will have some of my Veela do their best to make the two of you into very pretty princesses."
Crouch clutched at his chest as if he was having a heart attack. Bagman just looked excited at the prospect of paying off his debt.
"With his age, I think Bartemius would be more of a queen than a princess," Dumbledore couldn't resist adding to the taunts. "But don't worry, Bartemius. Plenty of people like their women to be mature. A 'cougar', isn't it?"
"Hngh~!" I nearly choked on my laughter, "Yeah, that's certainly one word to describe it."
"Vhat is cougar?" Karkaroff asked.
"It's a Muggle term. It means an attractive older woman who isn't afraid of her own sexuality. The word also holds a connotation of pursuing or preying on younger men," I explained.
He nodded knowingly, "Ah, yes, women who age like fine wine. I was not aware the Muggles were so sensible and cultured."
"And since he had the idea to use our female students, maybe the idea of preying on those younger is accurate as well," Madam Maxime observed.
Crouch gasped, desperately trying to change the subject, "T-The Task! We need to decide on a new challenge before we decide anything!"
"Your punishment is already decided, Crouch," I deadpanned, earning nods from the others. "But I suppose you're right about the need for a new challenge. Well? Do you have any bright ideas that don't involve exploiting or endangering anyone?"
He stuttered under the spotlight, "Err… Ah! Could we make some sort of underwater obstacle course and put the hostages at the end?"
"Less dangerous but it still involves someone other than the champions. No," I shot the idea down immediately.
"And you and Ludo would be hard-pressed to create the entire course by yourselves. I doubt any of us are in the mood to help you kidnap one of our people," Dumbledore added.
"Are we obligated to stick to the original interpretation of the riddle so strictly?" Madam Maxime asked.
"Hmm, I don't suppose we are."
"Our champions would 'sorely miss' a meal," I suggested, smirking on the inside.
Karkaroff nodded in agreement, "They would. Vhat did you have in mind?"
I paused for effect, "… Ice fishing. The champions have to drill a hole through the ice and catch a fish. Then cook it to satisfy the riddle if they must. The winner will be whoever comes back with the biggest catch. We can even play the lake freezing over off as part of the task. Not that people would likely buy that but at least we'd have an excuse prepared."
"Bit boring though, isn't it?" Bagman asked hesitantly.
"But quite safe. And still in the spirit of the riddle."
Karkaroff was already on board with my idea, "Ice fishing. The sport of kings. Is good challenge. Harder than it looks. I will bring the alcohol."
"You know, I've always been curious. Is the alcohol required for ice fishing?" Dumbledore asked.
Karkaroff scoffed as if offended by the question, "Is essential. The most competitive part of the sport."
"How are we supposed to sell tickets to watch four kids icefish?!" Crouch protested.
I shrugged, utterly unconcerned with his complaints, "That seems to be your problem. Figure it out."
"B-But-! What-! This isn't the way things are done!"
"I know. That's exactly why we're changing things up. The last tournament saw three deaths by this point in the competition. All spectators - Judges, in fact - instead of champions. We've had none. I'm determined to keep it that way."
"Wonderful! It sounds like we've found a fitting solution," Dumbledore said, clapping and putting that issue to rest. "Ice fishing is safe, 'competitive', and will be quick to put on in a pinch. I'm sure the champions will be ecstatic about the change in events!"
"Merde… Fleur will kill me," Madam Maxime muttered to herself. "To enlist her in something so… so pedestrian…"
I was suddenly struck by the very entertaining mental image of Fleur Delacour - Veela princess extraordinaire - sitting glumly over a hole in the ice and waiting for a fish to nibble. I couldn't help but snort. Oh, this would be too good…
IIIII
"We're gonna want to get moving soon. You don't want to stick around and see what we talked Bagman and Crouch into doing to entertain the crowd," I advised.
Heather cocked her head, "It can't be that bad, can it?"
Just then, Bagman upturned his potion, draining it into his mouth. Almost immediately, his form began to shift, growing more feminine by the second. Crouch hesitated, looking for any way out of his punishment until his eyes landed on Dumbledore. Whatever he saw in the Headmaster's eyes must have convinced him that a bit of public humiliation was the lesser of two evils.
The day was February 24th and the Second Task had arrived. The Black Lake was still firmly frozen over thanks to me and Heather's efforts. Despite trying for the two days leading up to the Task, Bagman and Crouch hadn't figured out what the problem was.
To be fair, we didn't expect them to. Maybe if Dumbledore felt like cooperating with the 'investigation', it would have gone differently but thankfully, he wasn't in a very helpful mood for some reason. Perhaps that had something to do with the kidnapping he would have been party to without the Black Lake freezing over.
The original plan for the Second Task was one of the most dangerous and braindead examples of Wizarding arrogance I'd seen. I learned more about that plan when I joined the other judges to decide on a new course of action. Bagman and Crouch - Crouch mostly - weren't even going to ask before taking the hostages. They were going to straight-up steal them from their beds and seemed completely oblivious to how fucked up that plan was.
I'd also learned who the hostages were planned to be. Heather was right. They were planning on taking Hermione, mostly because after my reveal, Crouch was hesitant to kidnap a Pure-Blood Heir/Lord like me. That just showed that at least some thought was given to the consequences of this plan and they still thought it was a good idea!
Granted, not much thought. Other than the issue of using me as a hostage, they hadn't taken any of the other hostages' backgrounds into consideration. Gabrielle was planned as Fleur's hostage. Something that would have brought Crouch firmly into the crosshairs of the Veela Clans and the French Ministry for his impudence. And that was not even mentioning the historic animosity between Merpeople and Veela.
The other two champions would have their hostages taken based on who they took to the Yule Ball. For Cedric, that meant Cho Chang - a Pure-Blood British Witch whose family had ties to the magical Far East. Another recipe for an international and domestic incident.
Krum's hostage was such a shitshow in the making that I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. His date to the Yule Ball, I learned, was a young woman named Anya Romanov. Yes, that Romanov. Though the former royal family of Russia had fallen to disgrace and unfortunate ends, the magical side of the family escaped persecution with the help of Russian Pure-Bloods. And Krum's date was a member of that family, essentially a Russian princess in exile.
She may have had no claim on the throne of modern Russia (even with the recent fall of the Soviet Union), but that didn't mean her name and heritage meant nothing. Many of Russia's Pure-Blood Houses survived the reign of the Soviet Union through siding with the communists or through general corruption and magical trickery.
Most of them retained some semblance of the power they once knew under the Tzar. And with the recent strife of their Muggle counterparts, they were quickly reclaiming more once again. To the Russian magical oligarchs and Pure-Bloods, the Romanov name was a symbol of their past and heritage. If Anya had come to any harm during the Task, being turned into a woman for a few hours would have been the least of Crouch's worries.
The current state of Russia's magical world, as I understood it from conversations with some Durmstrang students, was fascinating. It was the strangest mix of traditional Houses desperately holding their historical power and the ones who sided with the Soviet Union and were created or granted more power that way. Then there were the common Wizard and Witch, typically better off than their Muggle counterparts, who were deeply influenced by the revolutions, strife, and ideological shifts of the 20th century in Russia.
I didn't know enough to speak in depth on the culture at wide but even just the history of the last hundred years deserved more attention than I could currently give it. The Wizarding sides of WW2 alone could, should, and had filled entire libraries with historical texts.
Anyway, original Second Task? Bad. Terrible. Moronic. Undoubtedly the worst idea Crouch had ever had. Almost guaranteed to start multiple international incidents that the British Ministry would have to answer to.
This new Second Task? Good. Great. Genius. Whoever came up with the idea (*cough* me *cough*) should be given a pint and a blowjob, preferably from my-… his… lovely lovers. A safe and uneventful afternoon of ice fishing. A chance for our champions to bond and for the judges to kick back and relax. It promotes inter-house, inter-school, and international cooperation and - here's the important part - doesn't put unsuspecting students in danger.
"Oh, Merlin!" Heather gagged in disgust as Crouch finally shifted into his female form.
"He honestly doesn't look as bad as I thought he would," I observed calmly. "Bit dumpy-looking but I could see him-… her getting a date. And Bagman is killing it. Who knew he had a blonde bombshell inside him?"
Heather paused and really looked at the pair of 'cheerleaders'. They were acting so differently even though they were in the same situation. Crouch was barely going through the steps, wincing with each movement and trying to look anywhere other than the jeering crowd.
Bagman seemed to have written and choreographed his own routine, going above and beyond his punishment. He was completely into it, bouncing and cheering as if he'd been doing this all his life. I suppose a career in Quidditch and vibrant commentary lent itself well to suddenly being a female cheerleader.
"I… think I've seen enough. Especially of-… Hrk-! Crouch… Are you sure this was deserved?"
I suddenly grew deadly serious, "Positive. They were planning on taking advantage of you and Fleur for entertainment and profit. Parade the two of you around in swimsuits in this weather? Crouch is lucky this is all Dumbledore and I made him do. Utter bastard, that one."
"Ah… Yeah, fuck them. They can use their own bodies if they want to earn a pretty penny," Heather decided.
"I couldn't agree more. Can you imagine going for a swim in this weather?"
Even dressed for the cold, Heather shivered. She bundled her scarf tighter around the lower half of her face. Her outfit was in sharp contrast to the two tournament organizers who would have had her exposed to the Scottish chill. She was comfy in an overlarge cloak and thick stockings. They… well, let's just say I wouldn't want to be exposing that much skin.
"I can't," Heather answered. "But enough about the bastards responsible for this. We've got ice fishing to do."
"You're welcome for that, by the way," I said with a smug smirk. "I'll accept my thanks in beer and kisses."
Heather's sarcasm was warm and comfy instead of cutting, "Gee, thanks, Teach~ Where would we be without you and your ideas?"
"Probably fighting a war thanks to Crouch's arrogance and idiocy," Heather snorted at my deadpan tone. "I'm not joking."
"I know," She said. "Still funny though."
We waved at a mortified Hermione in the crowd as we stepped off the short pier and onto the lake ice. She knew I was responsible for their 'entertainment' today somehow. I could just feel it.
I was prepared for the short lecture I would get before she learned the reason Bagman and Crouch were being punished. At that point, she would go off on them on her own. I couldn't see her being less passionate about their wrongs than I was, only more. Crouch in particular wouldn't be seeing the end of this punishment for a good long while. At least Bagman was being a good sport. That should earn him a bit of leeway.
The other champions and Headmasters were already making their way out to the middle of the lake. Heather and I hurried to catch up. Thanks to the interruption to the tournament's scheduled events, the tension between the schools had died down significantly. Having a common enemy to rail against in Crouch helped as well.
This replacement Second Task was bound to be a much more relaxed affair than the original promised to be. There was still an underlying current of competition but the Headmasters and I thought the champions deserved a break. Second thoughts about the Triwizard Tournament were the name of the game now that the Ministry (and Crouch's) agenda behind it was beginning to be illuminated.
Dumbledore had made it no secret that he thought the whole tournament was a bad idea. If I had to bet, Karkaroff and Maxime were quickly coming to the same conclusion. Hopefully, they shared their concerns with their champions. This tournament wasn't about fame or fortune for the champions. It was entirely a publicity stunt from the British Ministry.
Too bad I wasn't willing to play their games with Heather's life, much less the lives of uninvolved bystanders taken hostage. That two of those hostages were members of my coven, my family? That was just bad luck. But honestly, the Ministry should be thanking me. I wouldn't be holding my breath…
Fleur was grumbling as we rejoined the group, "Honestly, couldn't this Task have been held inside?! Unbelievable… The British and their weather… And to think the cretins wanted us to swim like this?!"
Madam Maxime tried to placate her champion, "Be calm, Fleur. The worst has been averted. And we will be safe and warm soon."
"Oh? Is our French Flower afraid of a little chill~?" I teased.
Fleur scowled at me, "Devil. This is your fault somehow."
"You're right. It's my fault that you're not currently swimming in this-…" I tapped my foot on the ice for emphasis. "-And freezing your pretty little bum off."
Fleur just preened, "Thank you for noticing. It is rather pretty, is it not?"
"We have you to thank for preventing that abomination of a task, Professor Black?" Victor Krum asked, glancing at his Headmaster for a nod of clarification. "Thank you. I am sure Anya will send her regards when she learns of your efforts."
"So will Cho," Cedric added. "I can't believe anyone thought it was a good idea to take hostages."
"Hear that, Fleur?" I continued teasing. "It sounds like you have me to thank for saving Gabrielle again."
She sniffed imperiously, "As is only natural. You obviously wish to further your leverage over her, Devil. Honestly, how deplorable… I suppose I'll just have to repay the debt in Gabrielle's place once more."
"Err… Do we have to thank you in the same way, Professor?" Cedric asked, made hesitant by the implication of Fleur's words.
I sighed and put his worries to rest, "No, Cedric. This is just a little game Fleur and I play. No one has to thank me for fixing something that should have been common sense."
"Yes, he likes to play games with my love. Truly he is a rogue and a scoundrel, playing with the hearts of nubile young Veela like me~!" Fleur swooned, covering her heart dramatically.
"What she said," I deadpanned.
"He shall never be satisfied~!"
"I shan't."
"Oh, the travesty~! Be still, mine beating heart~! Do not let yourself fall to his devilish charms~! He shall only use you and your body like some desperate trollop~!"
"…" My lack of response didn't stop Fleur from working herself into a fervor.
"No~! It's no use~! He owns my heart and soul~! His words rule my thoughts and my body craves his touch~! There is only one choice left… I must… give in~ Take me, you beast~!"
Fleur's declaration was met by silence. Madam Maxime looked only seconds away from dragging her hand down her face in exasperation. Heather was hiding behind me, trying to muffle her raucous laughter. The other champions were left dumbfounded. Karkaroff raised an expressionless eyebrow and gave me a respectful nod. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled about as bright as I'd ever seen them.
Fleur blushed, clearing her throat as the silence set in, "A-Ahem… Something like that…"
"Right…" I quickly changed the subject. "So who wants to do the honors of conjuring the shack?"
Dumbledore thankfully went along with the change, "I thought it a good idea to make that something of a cooperative effort from the champions."
"Vill work," Karkaroff agreed. "Go on, Victor. Show them excellence."
Fleur gasped at the unintended slight to her abilities, "I shall be the one to show you excellence!"
"You're supposed to be working together," I reminded them.
"Quiet, Devil. Let me show you that I am the best champion here!"
I turned to Heather, "Well, looks like you can just sit back and let the overly eager champions do all the work."
She grinned, "Nah, this looks fun. Hey, Cedric? Wanna team up?"
Dumbledore allowed it, conjuring three piles of various materials with an ease I would've been hard-pressed to match. And that's how we ended up with three shacks for ice fishing. The judges just kind of shrugged and decided this would be the first part of the Second Task. And since Bagman and Crouch were otherwise… occupied… I found myself drafted as the unofficial fourth judge for this Task. Just to keep everything fair.
Krum's shack was sturdy and already well-worn, put together from conjured wood beams as if he'd done this many times before. The Hogwarts team's shack was less coordinated. It was obvious they only had the barest idea of what they needed to do. Still, they got down four walls, a roof, and access to the ice within the shack.
Fleur, of course, went above and beyond. She was still casting and crafting by the time we'd examined the other two shacks. Solid stone pillars made up the shack's four corners. The walls were paneled with lacquered wood, oiled and polished until they shined like the ice beneath our feet. Smoke poured from a chimney on the shack's roof.
When she finished casting, Fleur was panting with exertion. We peeked inside and none of us could hide how impressed we were. Fleur managed to work Space Expansion Charms into her construction. They weren't anything too crazy, just enough to give the shack a spacious feeling inside. The rest of the interior was decorated with the same polished wood as the walls and furnished with comfortable benches alongside a crackling fire.
"She wins," Victor begrudgingly admitted.
Even exhausted as she was, Fleur looked all too pleased with herself, "I-… ha… I told you so… !"
Dumbledore hummed, sitting himself on one of the benches near the fire and getting comfortable, "Oh, this is just wonderful on the old bones."
Karkaroff joined him, producing a bottle of clear liquid and a few shot glasses. He wasted no time pouring some and offering it to Dumbledore. Madam Maxime turned her nose up when she was offered the same, bringing out a bottle of wine instead. The champions and I just stood around somewhat awkwardly.
Seeing that the judges were preoccupied, I took charge of the Task, "Right, so I'm sure you all know the idea behind this Task. You're going to be catching fish. Yes, it's really that simple. Catch a fish, cook it if you want. The most important thing is that no one dies or gets hurt. If you want to treat this like a competition, feel free. We'll be willing to score you at the end of the afternoon but really, we just want you to enjoy yourselves."
Heather grinned, "This should be fun! I've never been ice fishing before. Petunia wouldn't even let me fish the usual way. But Ginny took me a couple of times when I stayed at the Burrow."
"Same here," Cedric nodded. "Err… About not having been ice fishing before. I've certainly fished though. Plenty of times."
"I have been once or twice. Fished regularly to feed my family. I am familiar with the activity," Victor said.
We all turned toward Fleur, naturally expecting her to add her own experience to the conversation. She was averting her eyes, acting as if she was above everything in the world. A faint pink painted her cheeks.
I cleared my throat, "Fleur?"
"What?!" Her head snapped toward me. "Do you wish for me to tell you that I am ignorant of the 'oh-so-cultured' world of fishing?! Why would I lower myself to such a common activity?! I am a Veela princess! I do not hunt for my food. That is what magic and grocers are for!"
"In other words," Heather smirked. "You couldn't hook a worm if your life depended on it."
"A-A worm?!" Fleur shuddered. "Y-You cannot seriously expect me to touch something that… that revolting!"
"I prefer minnows for bait when ice fishing," Victor helpfully added.
Fleur swore something in French, "-Never mind! I shall find some other way to complete the Task!"
She sat herself daintily on one of the benches, thinking hard for a way around the 'fishing' part of ice fishing. The other three champions shared amused looks and began conjuring fishing poles and gear. I suppose it didn't matter that the bait was conjured. Not like the fish would last long enough to digest the literally empty calories there.
One of them - Krum, I think - drilled a hole in the ice with a spell. The three actually participating champions gathered around. Heather led with a joke that made Cedric laugh and Victor crack a smile. With her directing the conversation, they were soon chatting like old friends.
Sparing Fleur another glance and seeing the look of intense concentration on her face, I sat myself down with the other judges. Karkaroff offered me a filled shot glass as I did. Before I could ask what it was, Fleur's voice rang out through the shack.
"Accio fish!"
A muffled thump sounded as the summoned fish slammed into the ice.
"Hey, come try that above the hole! I've always wanted to see a frog smack herself in the face with a fish," Heather joked.
"Putain de merde!" Fleur swore, sitting back down and going right back to the drawing board.
"Your champion seems to be having a spot of trouble, Madam Maxime," I commented.
The Headmistress sighed, "Yes, I expected as much. Fleur is not one to get her hands dirty. Of course, she will just end up working harder to solve the problem because of her stubbornness."
"At least Victor is showing the others the ropes," Karkaroff said.
Dumbledore exhaled a stream of comically sized snowflakes as if nothing was wrong, "A wonderful example of inter-school cooperation, Igor. You should be proud!"
I looked warily at the drink I'd been handed, "I'm almost afraid to ask… What is this stuff?"
"Ice Vodka," Karkaroff answered. "Like Fire Whiskey but cold."
"How original…" I drawled.
"Would you like some wine like a normal person?" Madam Maxime offered.
"Just wine?"
"Of course!" She looked offended that I would even ask. "Nothing ruins a good vintage faster than silly gimmicks."
"I hope you don't mind if I take you up on your offer then."
In the background, Fleur started another spell, "Incen-… !"
I interrupted her cast, "No, Fleur. Bad Fleur. No matter how thick the ice is, no fire that isn't properly shielded. Try something else."
Fleur grumbled but sat herself back down and went back to thinking. I turned to the Headmistress with a smile, "Wine?"
The afternoon passed at a lazy and relaxed pace. Cooped up in the shack as we were, there wasn't much to do other than converse, drink, and ice fish (for the champions). Karkaroff and Dumbledore drank themselves silly, indulging in most of the bottle of Ice Vodka. Though I suspected Sobering Charms were involved as well. Otherwise, they would have been falling over themselves drunk by this point.
Madam Maxime and I enjoyed only a few glasses of wine, drinking slowly and mostly just conversing as we enjoyed the atmosphere. Heather laughed and joked with the other champions. Dumbledore even called for a House Elf with a few butterbeers at one point, something that champions were all too willing to indulge in while they fished.
While all three champions caught something by this point, they seemed to barely pay attention to their poles most of the time. Technically, they'd completed their Task but no one seemed all that eager to end their fun any time soon. Instead, they used this afternoon for what it was intended for. A chance to bond and unwind.
Fleur, however… Fleur didn't join in the festivities. It was almost worrying. She was so focused on completing the Task that she forwent all of the social interaction around her. Her attempts at getting the biggest fish grew increasingly ridiculous as the day went on.
She conjured a fish, trying to trick us into thinking she'd caught it only to receive a resounding thumbs down from us judges.
She drilled a second hole in the ice (without the proper spell Victor had used) and tried the Summoning Charm again. Only to get a fish smaller than the minnows Krum was using for bait. She banished the fish back into the water in disgust when it didn't satisfy her desire for victory.
She tried a Bombarda through the hole she'd drilled, making the ice around her shake and only receiving chunks of fish for her efforts.
She cast some sort of revealing spell on the ice around her, causing it to turn clear as glass. That attempt only served to tease her with how close her goal was, quite literally swimming beneath her feet.
She tried the Summoning Charm for a third time (it was the most obvious solution, after all), only to scream in frustration as the fish she'd summoned wriggled out of her hands and dove back through the hole in the ice.
"I am very serious. How much will it take for you to take her off my hands?" Madam Maxime asked as we watched her champion fail in ways that were starting to seem more and more like focused bad luck than lack of skill or creativity.
"She'll be graduating this year, right? Why not just wait until she's out of your hair naturally?" I deflected.
"Knowing her father as I do, she will only stick around until I arrange a job for her or write a letter of recommendation that satisfies her expectations. He did the same thing. The Delacour family is very insistent and stubborn. It is admirable in a way… But oh-so annoying to be on the other end of."
"And what makes you think I want that trouble myself?"
"You are recruiting for your coven, are you not? As annoying as she is, I do still love the girl. And she is quite talented and powerful. Plus, giving yourself more ties to the powerful Veela Clans of France and Europe will only serve you well in the long run."
"You speak as if my coven is a business instead of my family…"
"Then do you really think she will do anything other than try to join your family with her sister?"
I sighed, "You're likely right but I've been trying to avoid thinking about that until she came to her senses and stopped playing her little denial games."
"If you leave the decision up to her, she will never stop. She lives off those games. Thrives off them. If you ask me, you should just collar her and get it over with," Madam Maxime said, taking a nonchalant sip of her wine.
I looked at her in open shock, "Are you advocating for me to completely subjugate your student…?"
Madam Maxime shrugged, looming over me even sitting as we were, "More for you to give her what she really wants and refuses to say outright. She acts as if she wants control but she is a-… How you say…? Daddy's girl? Oui, Daddy's girl at heart. Do you see where I am going with this?"
"Ugh…" I groaned. "Don't remind me of their father. I'm already worried about having to duel him when we finally meet."
She chuckled, "I think that is almost guaranteed. Apolline will thank you for taking her daughters off their hands while Sebastion will rage and rage until Apolline drags him off and shuts him up with a visit to the bedroom. She will remind him that the women in his life are Veela and something like this was always going to happen. You will experience the same thing with your daughters, I'm sure."
Just as I was starting to contemplate the future consequences of having Veela lovers, Fleur exclaimed, "Yes! Finally! Take that, you stupid stupid fish!"
Looking over, we saw Fleur standing next to a fish that was just about as wide as the ice hole she'd made and longer than her whole arm. It lay on the ice calmly as if it didn't even mind suffocating. It was easily the biggest catch of the afternoon. With no sign of struggle, I could only guess at how she'd finally managed to catch a fish.
"How'd you do that, Fleur?" I asked.
"Confundus Charm~!" Fleur explained, her accent thick with excitement. "I merely convinced the dumb thing that it wanted to be tonight's dinner. It all but caught itself!"
Perhaps one of the most complicated ways she could have accomplished this Task but nothing else seemed to work for her. I'm sure after magic seemed to stymie her Summoning Charm three times, she felt the need to get tricky with her methods. Whatever the reason, it certainly worked.
"Marvelous, Miss Delacour," Dumbledore chuckled, suddenly as sober as can be with a minute flex of magic. "Oh my, look at the time. I believe we should wrap things up here. Has everyone completed their Task?"
"Yup," Heather piped up, popping the 'p'. "We all managed to catch something like an hour ago."
"Then I declare this Task a four-way tie!"
"What?! No!" Fleur protested. "Inconceivable! Unfair! I clearly won!"
"Either of you two mind giving Fleur the win by one point?" Heather asked the other champions.
Cedric shrugged and Victor shook his head, "No. As pointless as it was, she put the most effort into her catch."
Dumbledore conceded, "Then Miss Delacour will win this Task with 50-…"
"40," Karkaroff corrected. "We only have four judges right now."
"40 points! And the other three shall tie for second place with 39 each."
Fleur looked inordinately pleased with herself, "Ah, recognition… You are a sweet and fair mistress."
I rolled my eyes as the others began to pack up and leave, "C'mon, Miss First Place. You were so focused on your task that you haven't had anything to eat or drink yet. Let's get something in you before you keel over in place."
"Ah~ You Devil~" Fleur moaned, shivering. "Get something in me~? Is this my prize? Oh, to be lavished with the care and attention I deserve as the sole winner~ H-How debaucherous~"
"Do not worry about the shack or your catches. I shall have the House Elves clean up and make you each a special meal with the fish," Dumbledore called.
Following his instructions, we left the shack as it was and began making our way back over the ice to shore. Heather said her goodbyes to the other champions and rejoined me, hopping on my back and declaring me, her steed. She had more than a few butterbeers while ice fishing and it seemed she was quite the lightweight. Likewise, She was light enough that I barely noticed, though the generous mounds against my back and the strong thighs at my waist did give me a moment of pause.
"Alright, Heather? Have fun?" I asked over my shoulder.
Heather giggled into the crook of my neck, "Yeeeeeeaaaah~ Cedric's a nice guy. Talks about his girlfriend a lot though. And Victor's funnier than he looks. Did you know he's betrothed to a princess?"
"I did. Need a Sobering Charm?"
"Nooooo wayyyyyy~ Teach~! I've got a nice buzz going~ Don't ruin it~"
"If you say so."
When we arrived back at shore, we were met by more confusion than applause. Also, by a much smaller audience. It seemed most people had figured out that the Second Task wasn't going to be much of a spectacle. And gender-bent Bagman and Crouch could only hold their attention for so long. Crouch looked exhausted from being made to cheer and be gawked at for two hours straight. Bagman, though, looked to have developed something of a cult following. The potions would wear off soon enough and I felt they'd been sufficiently punished for now.
Someone who very much resembled a Weasley approached our returning group and addressed Dumbledore, "Headmaster."
"Percy, what a pleasant surprise," Dumbledore greeted him genially. "What business brings you here?"
"Stuffy git…" Heather mumbled into my neck.
Percy Weasley drew himself up, doing a good job appearing important and official, "I'm here on behalf of the Minister of Magic, sent to assess the Triwizard Tournament and its competitors. This Task was a travesty!"
"Could have been more of one," I didn't bother to hide my opinion.
Percy ignored me, "What were you thinking, Sir? This looks bad for everyone involved, the Minister especially! So I've come to inform you - by Ministry Decree - that some changes are being made to the tournament and those involved."
"Sounds like that was already decided before you watched the Task," Once again, my addition went ignored.
"The Minister (and his vaunted Undersecretary) will be inserting themselves into the rest of the tournament. He has declared himself Lord Triwizard, citing Ministry Decree 3758A through 3758D."
"I don't believe I know those decrees, Percy my boy," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled with amusement.
"They were filed this morning, Sir. I filed them myself. The paperwork is all in order. Feel free to request a copy at the Department of Records for you to peruse at your own convenience."
"Of course, of course. You were saying?"
"As Lord Triwizard, the Minister and his Undersecretary intend to make this tournament a testimony to how great Britain is. You'd be foolish to try and stop them," Percy 'advised'.
Dumbledore looked moments away from laughing, "Why, I would never!"
"Very good, Sir. I expected as much," Percy nodded seriously before shifting nervously and looking around as if he was scared to get caught saying what he said next. "You didn't hear this from me but the first change the Minister will make is removing Heir Black from these proceedings."
I put a hand on Heather's knee to keep her from jumping at Percy with bared teeth. She wasn't the only one that tried to leap to my defense. Fleur squawked in outrage. Madam Maxime tsked. Krum and Karkaroff discreetly drew their wands and held them down at their sides. Cedric didn't look far from joining them.
I scoffed, "He can certainly try. I'd like to see him explain why he seems to want my ward to meet an untimely death."
Percy nodded, "I don't necessarily agree with that decision but… I have a job to do. The most I can do is give you this warning. I'm… I'm sorry, Heather."
Heather calmed a bit on my back, "It's fine, Percy. Honestly, I didn't even expect this much from you."
I paid Percy back in kind for his warning, "Word of advice, Mr. Weasley? Try to stay out of the coming crossfire. It would seem House Black is going on a warpath…"
30.5: Earning 'O's
Plug: Feel free to support me on [ /dryskies_btb]. Every little bit helps and as of the time of posting you get 8 chapters early!
My office was something of a new development for my position. After half a year, Dumbledore apparently realized I was doing all of my work out of my quarters or abandoned classrooms.
"Really, Albus, it isn't necessary," I tried to humbly protest.
"No, no, Atlas, this won't do at all. How will students know where to find you for 'extracurricular activities'?"
"While technically correct, I feel like you're implying something indecent with your words…"
"I assure you I only mean your tutoring sessions," Dumbledore barely smirked. "Where do you even hold them now?"
I did my best to ignore that smirk, "I make myself available to the students. An office will just limit my reach and keep me stationary."
"Ah, yes," Dumbledore nodded knowingly. "I understand. You feel the need to be constantly 'moving' during your sessions."
"Albus…" I said warningly.
Dumbledore chuckled, "I'm just teasing you, Atlas. I know your tutoring sessions are entirely decent and on the level. You keep the 'constant moving' to your quarters, after all."
I couldn't help but roll my eyes, "I get enough of this from the rumor mill. I don't need you adding onto it in private."
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled but he digressed, "Be that as it may, I must insist on the subject of your own office. It's only right. You're a member of the staff. You deserve a space in the Castle - outside of where you sleep - to call your own."
I sighed, "If you insist…"
In the end, I was given an office near my quarters. Once settled inside, I had to admit that it was nice having an office to call mine. It helped eliminate a bit of my imposter syndrome. So far, it wasn't decorated at all. I was sure I'd begin stocking the bookshelves and adding more furniture soon enough. As it was, it was more than sufficient to work inside.
"Neville's seeing improvement…" I muttered to myself, thinking back to today's transfiguration class while I worked.
He was too. Almost too much improvement. He'd gone from forcing spells out of his core to letting the magic just pour out of him. His methods of control still needed work. As demonstrated by the fact that his Vanishing Spell emptied Professor McGonagall's classroom of every bit of furniture it held. But even just the fact that he was greatly overpowering his spells now was good progress.
I still worked with him regularly. We went through control exercises together, with him following my magic and using that feeling to do the same with his own. Starting him on Occlumency and the beginnings of Wandless Magic also helped tremendously.
Trying to come up with new challenges for his slowly growing control and confidence was an interesting exercise for me as a teacher. They needed to be focused on control instead of power - something Neville had in spades. And I'd noticed that he did best with static exercises. His magic seemed to like holding, maintaining something, or making small changes at a time instead of actively seeking out things to change.
Tailoring exercises to him and his magic was something I'd been doing for two months now. Tonight was no different. I had a tutoring session with him in the morning and I wanted him to try something new. So that's what occupied my mind as I absently graded papers for Professor McGonagall.
The papers weren't anything special. Just a homework quiz with written answers. After half a year of similar grading, I only had to keep one eye on them. The rest of my thoughts were devoted to other things. Like Neville's exercises. Or Pansy's continued insistence to drag me into her daddy issues. Or if I should introduce the rest of the staff to the wonders of coffee.
A knock sounded at the door to my office, "P-Professor…? Are you busy?"
"No. Come in," I answered without thinking. "Hermione? Heather? What's up?"
Hermione entered first, playing with her fingers as her head bowed slightly. Heather came in after her, looking around in surprise. They'd ditched their outer robes for this meeting.
Nothing about their outfits was inherently sexual but they seemed to radiate this intangible feeling of… intent. The way their ties were undone and their shirts partially unbuttoned… The high socks that came much higher than their knees - almost to their mid-thighs… Were their skirts shortened…?
Hermione shifted awkwardly, seemingly teetering on the edge of something to say.
Heather beat her to it, "When'd you get an office, Teach?"
"Heather!" Hermione hissed, elbowing her best friend lightly. "Stick to the script!"
She was nowhere near as quiet as I think she intended to be. Heather glared at Hermione but heeded her chiding. Her posture changed, matching Hermione's beside her. Suddenly, two very nervous students were standing in my office. And I had a feeling only one of them was acting.
"P-Professor? We seem to be in a spot of trouble…" Heather began, playing her part.
"Oh?" I sat back in my chair, playing along as well just to see where this was going. "What would that be?"
"O-Our grades, Sir…" Hermione stuttered. "We're f-f-failing… your class."
I hid a smirk at how difficult it was for Hermione to admit she was failing something even when she was acting, "Is that so? I'm afraid I didn't realize you were doing so poorly. Or that I had my own class for you to fail."
Hermione froze at my last line as I'd gone off her carefully planned script. Heather came to her rescue, "That's right, Professor. We're failing your class. You know, the one you teach? The one that gives you all that authority over us directly? The one that's definitely not completely made up for *cough* roleplay *cough* purposes…"
"Ah, I see," I nodded as if Heather just said the most convincing thing in the world. "Remind me, what were your grades again?"
"T-T-Tro-…" Hermione tried and failed to get the dreaded letter grade out. "Heather, I can't. Help…?"
Heather rolled her eyes, "Troll, Professor. We have a Troll in your class."
Oh, this was kind of fun. I set my face into an approximation of a stern professor mask, "My, you two are really scraping the bottom of the barrel. To fail with distinction…? I expected better from you, Miss Granger."
Hermione whimpered, shaking where she stood at the mere thought of failure, "I-I'm sorry, P-Professor…"
"Well, what do you two expect to do about your abominable grades?" I asked, getting another small whimper from Hermione. "Retake a test? Show me you understand the material in some other way? If you've come to me after hours like this, surely you have a solution."
Heather grinned, nudging Hermione forward. Hermione gulped. She worried at the hem of her skirt. Her eyes glanced around my office, setting on the papers I'd been grading for a moment. They seemed to remind her of something and she whined without opening her mouth. She was silent for a few long moments.
When she did eventually speak, her voice was small, "E-Extra credit…?"
"We're more than willing to earn our 'O's, Professor," Heather added.
I pretended to think about their solution, staring Hermione down and making her squirm as I did, "… I won't go easy on you. Are you sure you're willing to work for the grades you feel you deserve?"
"P-Positive, Professor!" Hermione jumped at the opportunity to please. "We'll do anything you ask of us! Just-! Just don't let us f-fail…"
Heather snorted in the background as I held Hermione's gaze, "Sure, drag me down with you, why don't you?"
My stern mask stared Hermione in the eye. Desperation stared back at me. She was really getting into her role here. If I had to guess, this entire bit was her fantasy. Heather just pushed her into actually acting on it. Still, I wasn't going to disappoint. She wanted to earn her grade. Let's see how willing she really was…
I scooted back in my chair, gesturing to the two girls, "Come here. I'm open to extra credit arrangements. But your grade will ultimately be up to how much work you're willing to put in."
"Oh, thank you, Professor!" Hermione sagged with relief, rushing to get on her knees between me and the desk.
Heather joined her at a much more sedate pace and with a smug smirk on her face. Before kneeling, she leaned toward me to whisper in my ear, "Thanks for playing along. Hope you enjoy yourself~"
Rolling my eyes, I swatted her on the rear, "Get down there. You'll be working for your grade as well, Miss Potter."
"On it, Teach~" Heather purred, sinking to her knees alongside Hermione.
Hermione glared at Heather, "You're not going to try and steal my 'O' grade, are you?"
Heather snorted a laugh, "Heh, think of this like a group project, Hermione."
"Then you better pull your weight," Hermione shot back.
They bickered back and forth between my knees for a few moments. I was stuck between rolling my eyes and chuckling. In the end, I did neither. Instead, I banished my pants off of me with a wave of my hand.
That made them fall silent and focus. Hanging in front of their eyes, my cock dangled at about half hardness and steadily grew. Having two nubile young Witches in front of you would do that to anybody. Soon enough, I throbbed to full mast.
Hermione audibly gulped, looking up at me over the crown of my cock. Her eyes were wide, shining with anxiety and eagerness. Tongue darting out, she licked her suddenly dry lips. A tentative hand reached out for me as if testing to see if I was real.
As Hermione ran dainty fingers up the length of my shaft, Heather looked like the cat who caught the canary. Her grin was as wide as I'd ever seen it. It struck me that this was the first time they'd gotten a good long look at me. Their reaction certainly wasn't found wanting.
I reached for my wand as the girls kneeled there transfixed. A discreet wave got the result I wanted. In the air along my shaft, letters came to life in harmless fiery writing. A 'T' at the very tip. A 'D' just a bit past that. Then a 'P', 'A', 'EE', and finally, an 'O' next to the base.
Heather and Hermione blinked at the letters in confusion until Heather snorted, catching on. Hermione wasn't far behind. She blushed from her cheeks down to her chest.
"I-I…" Hermione said hesitantly. "I don't think I can earn that 'O', Professor…"
"Oh? Why not?"
"Well, I've been… practicing," Somehow, Hermione's blush brightened even further. "And I've never taken my… training aids… nearly that deep."
"You never know until you try. Maybe the real thing will motivate you to go beyond your limits. You're not getting out of this that easily, Miss Granger," I said sternly.
"N-No, Professor!" Hermione denied, desperate to please as always. "I wouldn't dream of it! I-I'll put in the work and do my best!"
I nodded, "I'd expect nothing less from you, Miss Granger. And you, Miss Potter? Do you have any concerns about the weight of my expectations for you?"
Heather smirked up at me, "Bring it on, Teach~"
"Then get to it," I instructed, trying to keep the 'stern professor' tone to my voice for as long as possible.
It looked like Heather would be the one to make the first move. Then Hermione came out of nowhere, all but diving onto the head of my cock.
Soft lips wrapped me in velvet. She froze, surprised by her sudden action as me and Heather. Nervous eyes looked up at me. I gave her a nod of approval. Slowly, those perfectly plump lips began to suckle.
Heather looked on, amused by the march Hermione had stolen on her. As Hermione started to suck, Heather's eyes lit up with a mischievous glint. Her hands darted toward Hermione's body, dancing across her skin and dipping beneath her clothes. Hermione squeaked and shuddered. Her eyes closed against the sudden groping but I saw the way her thighs rubbed against each other.
"You have a grade to earn as well, Miss Potter," I reminded.
Heather rolled her eyes goodnaturedly, "Yeah, yeah, Teach. You just want someone to suck your balls."
I had to swallow my laughter, "Careful there, Miss Potter. I can still leave you to fail."
She stuck a very mature tongue out at me before shifting around and under Hermione so that same tongue could lap at my unattended sack. Above her, Hermione shuddered again. Apparently, we were really selling the roleplay for her.
To sell it even more, I said, "Scoot back a bit. I may as well get some actual work done while you two do this."
Hermione moaned as the denial play ticked her boxes. The vibration ran up my cock and straight into my core. They obeyed though, shifting back a bit while keeping their mouths on me until they were under the desk.
With my upper body mostly obscured, I felt safe to bite my fist. I couldn't deny that I found this roleplay about as hot as Hermione did. Something about combining sexual gratification with the authority and studiousness of a professor-student relationship…
Below the desk, Heather laid kisses along my balls and the base of my cock. Soft lips nipped and tickled my skin. Above her, Hermione began to take me deeper. Her cheeks hollowed around my girth as I felt her pass the 'D' mark.
The paper in front of me might as well have been Mars because of how far my focus was from it at that moment. Hermione's tongue swiped across the underside of my cock. Warm drool hugged every inch she could touch. Slow, careful, and practiced movements methodically took more and more of me inside.
Just as I was about to lay an encouraging hand on Hermione's head, there was a knock at the door of my office, "Atlas? Are you free for a moment?"
Fuck. I froze. Of all the times for Professor McGonagall to visit…
"Yes?" I called back after making sure nothing untoward appeared to be happening in my office.
"Wonderful," Professor McGonagall said, opening the door and letting herself in. "I just wanted to talk to you about the papers and a few students."
Unseen by McGonagall, Heather and Hermione had frozen as well. I'm sure Hermione's eyes were as wide as her lips around my cock. I couldn't imagine Heather was much better. As precocious as she was, Heather still did see Professor McGonagall as something of a motherly figure.
Focusing on my colleague and acting as if nothing was amiss, I replied, "Of course, Minerva. Who did you want to talk about?"
She began talking about… something… at length. I can't honestly say I paid complete attention. It seemed like the usual talk between the staff about the Castle's student population.
Something here that the students weren't quite grasping. Somebody there who was having a bit more trouble than usual. But with two of those students currently under my desk, my mind was understandably preoccupied.
Especially when Heather decided it was a good idea to start moving again. She started slowly but soon enough, her tongue was bathing me with attention again as if Professor McGonagall wasn't even in the room. And somehow, she wordlessly convinced Hermione to do the same!
I bit my lip, nodding along with the conversation. Silken pillows pulled at my skin. Hermione slid up and down the first third of my length. She reached halfway, passing the 'P' grade. She paused there and shivered, swallowing as I poked the back of her throat. Earning a passing grade played wonders on her nerves.
Dipping a bit lower, I slid into her throat properly. Her lips almost reached down to the 'A' level. Smooth, wet muscles hugged more than half of my shaft. I glided in and out of her throat. Hermione barely gagged, swallowing to show off her practice in this 'activity'.
"And then there's Heather and Hermione, of course…" Professor McGonagall said casually, unaware of the spike of anxiety her words caused.
I froze again. The two hidden students did the same.
"What about them?!" Professor McGonagall jumped slightly at my too-quick reply. "Sorry… I'm just rather protective of those two."
She nodded, "That's perfectly understandable, Atlas. And I must say, you've done a wonderful job with them this year. Heather in particular. I've never seen her thrive this much in class. I think the time you've spent one-on-one with her has quite a bit to do with that."
I did my best to keep my chuckle casual and unassuming, "Of course. She's a great student when she's actually engaged in a topic. I'm just glad to be able to bring out that side of her."
Heather giggled, hearing her Head of House talking about her without a clue that she was less than three feet away. Hermione, thankfully, was expecting it and helped muffle the noise. And Professor McGonagall helped herself by continuing to talk right over it.
"And Hermione," McGonagall sighed, causing Hermione to somehow freeze even more in anticipation.
"Well, let's just say we're all blessed to have her as a student. Her enthusiasm for education is undeniable. Sometimes, I wonder if there are no lengths she won't go to get the 'O' she feels she deserves."
"I'll-…" I cleared my throat. "I'll say. You can't stop that girl when she gets a goal into her mind."
Hermione moaned softly around my cock. Her body shook slightly. Soft as it was, the sound of her mini-orgasm might as well have been a whisper on the wind. Still, Professor McGonagall tilted her head slightly.
"Did you hear something?"
My heart stopped but I played it cool, "No? Must be the Castle settling. This office hasn't been used in a very long time, after all. I've been hearing strange noises all day since I moved in."
"Ah… of course…"
I didn't let Professor McGonagall ponder on my excuse at all, "Anyway, I should really get back to work, Minerva. I'm almost done with your papers. I'll send them along for you to double-check soon enough."
Thankfully, she just nodded, "Take your time, Atlas. I don't need them until the end of the week. I'll see myself out. Say, will you, Septima, and Aurora be joining us for the weekly poker game?"
I smiled, holding off the sensations from below my waist, "Wouldn't dream of missing it."
With that, Professor McGonagall left and I let myself breathe a huge sigh of relief, "Merlin, that was stressful…"
Giggles, suckling lips, and a wandering tongue drew my attention back beneath my desk. Moving my chair back slightly, Hermione followed, entirely unwilling to give up her 'grade'. Heather sat back on her haunches, wiggling her eyebrows at me.
"Stressful?" She teased. "Were you trying to hide something from Professor McGonagall, Teach~?"
I gave her a stern glare, getting right back into character, "I don't need any sass from you, Miss Potter. This extra credit assignment is between the three of us. Something you just about blew with your little giggles."
"Oh no~" Heather 'gasped'. "Do I need to be punished?"
"You'd like that, wouldn't you? No, I think something else is in order. Another test. Come up here and lay on my desk," I instructed.
Hermione paused as Heather did as I asked, "Keep working, Miss Granger. Miss Potter, your new test is simple. You can't cum until I let you. Let's see if you're still stubborn enough to earn your 'O'."
Heather leaned back on her elbows, smirking as I leaned forward. My hands trailed up her legs, going from soft wool to smooth skin. They dipped beneath her adjusted skirt. As expected, I found nothing else beneath to cover her.
"At least you came prepared," I muttered.
"Anything for you, Teach~"
"Quiet," I ordered firmly. "Pay attention. This will be on the test."
I flipped her skirt up over her waist. Heather laughed until I bent down so my breath grazed her little flower. She sucked in a breath, going tense at the teasing. My hands stroked her inner thighs, quickly followed by my lips planting featherlight kisses.
I worked my way up, avoiding her pussy for a moment. Kisses here, there, above her mound, and trailing down. When I returned to her lower lips, she was practically drooling down her thighs.
My tongue tickled those plump petals. I dipped deeper. Lapping at her honeypot, nectar fell onto my tastebuds like ambrosia. I spread her around my tongue, licking upward in one long smooth stroke.
Heather held her breath. The tension in her body rose along with my rising lick. I reached the summit, pressing down on the love button I found there. Heather's body shook. A breathy moan escaped her.
I looked up at her, meeting her eyes over her navel. Heather stared back with wide eyes. It was as if she couldn't believe what she was feeling. I circled her clit. She gasped. More droplets blessed my tongue.
Not to be forgotten, Hermione pressed farther forward. She took me past the 'A'. Her throat swallowed and contracted around me. A relatively small hand cupped my sack. Another tried to encircle the base of my cock to steady Hermione's 'workspace', only succeeding halfway.
Wet heat coated my every nerve. She dragged pleasure out of me every time she withdrew. Her throat hugged me tight every time she drove herself back down. It would have been almost comfy if it wasn't so stimulating.
I hiked Heather's legs onto my shoulder, muffling a groan with her pussy. Hermione sucked hard enough to make me throb in her throat. Heather's eyes rolled back in her head as she desperately tried to keep from going over the edge.
"Oooooooh~ God~" Heather moaned.
I slurped noisily in reply. Her juices coated my chin. Her legs quivered on either side of my head. Her insides fluttered on my tongue. I drove her higher and higher. Her head fell back. A sweet symphony fell from her lips.
Below the desk, wet lips and a nimble tongue worshiped my cock. My core clenched, holding off my climax. Hermione reached deeper, earning her 'EE'. She was mere inches from her 'O'. The finish line pushed her onward. She gagged and choked, trying to shove the last few inches down her throat.
My hand left Heather's hip and came to rest just above her womb. I held her down from there, pressing on her core from the outside. I felt her muscles tense and spasm beneath my palm.
"No no no no no no~!" Heather pleaded. "Gonna cum, gonna cum~!"
Tummy tight, she held on with all she had. I didn't let up. My tongue buried between her lower lips, spreading her folds for me to devour. I felt her toes curl on my back. Her whole body arched, pushing herself onto my mouth even more.
For the briefest of moments, I pulled back slightly to say, "You can come when Hermione earns her 'O'."
"Merlin, Hermione~! Please please~! I'll give you anything!"
I dove right back in, keeping Heather on the razor's edge. Still, I took pity on her. Hermione had stalled at the final inch of my shaft. She whined pitifully, unable to finish no matter how hard she tried.
My free hand made its way under the desk to rest in her curls. Hermione shuddered under the contact. She moaned her approval and thanks. My hand pulled her forward. She gagged but I didn't stop. Slowly, she swallowed even more of my cock. Her lips came to rest on the root of my shaft.
Almost immediately, Hermione did her best to scream out. Something made much harder by the cock plugging her throat. Her body seized and shook. A wet splash somehow managed to be heard over her muffled scream of ecstasy. Earning her 'O' pushed Hermione over the edge.
The sound of Hermione's 'O' was all the permission Heather needed. She keened. She twitched. She let herself come undone like a spring. She came her brains out all over my face.
Nectar poured into my mouth. More splashed onto the floor between Hermione's legs. Nubile feminine bodies played like instruments. Heather was splayed out across my desk, her chest heaving and her legs still shaking. I checked below. Hermione's eyes were practically rolled up in her head just from the pleasure of her accomplishment.
"Very good job, Miss Granger," I praised. "Now, please remove yourself before you suffocate."
Hermione moaned, seeming to cum again from the praise. She gasped as my cock popped out of her mouth. Tears of pleasure and satisfaction streaked down her face.
"Y-You didn't cum, P-Professor," Hermione panted.
"I didn't," I agreed. "But you've already earned your 'O'. Are you willing to go above and beyond for your studies, Miss Granger?"
Hermione's smile was luminescent, "Always, Professor."
"Then get up here," I instructed. "And bend over your less motivated classmate."
"H-Hey," Heather protested in a weak voice. "I-I resent that c-claim… !"
Hermione scrambled onto shaky feet. She turned around, flipped her skirt over her bum, and placed herself above Heather in 'the position'. Despite how drained she was from her 'O', those wide hips and plump cheeks wiggled back and forth for me eagerly.
Satisfied, I nodded, "Good hustle, Miss Granger. Let's see if we can't earn you a distinction to go along with your 'O'."
"Thank you, Professor," Hermione moaned.
I lined myself up with her dripping lips. Petals spread. A vise-tight hole began to stretch. Hermione's body shook and tried to push back to help my penetration. Slightly more recovered, Heather's arms wrapped around Hermione and helped steady her.
Inch after inch, I disappeared inside Hermione. Her inner walls gripped me tightly. She twitched and shuddered around me. My cock was wrapped up in fold after fold. Sensual heat lit up our nerves. Steel parted silk. And ever-so-slowly, I drove myself to the hilt.
Deep within Hermione, I paused as inspiration struck, "Now, Miss Granger, tell me… What effect does the Vera Verto spell have?"
Hermione was confused at first, "W-What…? Oh~, so full~…"
"Answer the question, Miss Granger. Surely a genius like yourself can manage to multitask," I chided.
"I-It can be used to transfigure an animal into a dish or utensil, primarily a goblet!" Hermione forced out between breathy moans.
"Very good. Ready for another?"
"P-Professor…? I don't understand…"
"It's a test, Miss Granger. One I hope to see you pass with flying colors."
"O-Oh…? Oh~! Yes, Professor, I'll do my best~!"
I rewarded her eagerness with a shift that ground her clit along the underside of my cock. Slowly, I pulled myself out of her. When I was at her entrance once more, I asked her the next question. Some meaningless trivia. The first thing that popped into my mind really.
She answered, wiggling her hips to try and get me back inside. I complied. I thrust forward with a smack. Hermione's bum bounced off my pelvis. Firm and deep, I hilted myself. Hermione whimpered, squeezing around me as she prepared for the next question.
Hermione's test went on like that for a while. I drove my cock into her. She shuddered and came. I praised her with every answer. She shuddered and came some more. Her juices glistened on my shaft. My girth stretched her wide and lewd.
Soft flesh jiggled with each thrust. Her bum cushioned the impact, driving back into me with desperation for more. Her legs shook, barely supporting her weight. Tight walls fluttered around me. Heat bathed me from tip to root.
Hermione whined and whimpered between questions and answers. Still, her body shook with every bit of praise I lavished her with.
"Very good, Miss Granger."
"Excellent."
"I couldn't have said it better myself."
When she was on the verge of orgasm, I broke character slightly, "Good girl, Hermione~"
She came like a fountain. Physical evidence of her ecstasy splashed down her inner thighs. Her insides tightened. She gripped me, holding me in place against her core as deep as possible.
My own pleasure mounted. Lightning raced through my veins. I throbbed so hard it almost hurt. Gripping plush hips to hold her against me, I ground myself inside Hermione. An utterly depraved groan escaped me. Heat surged through me in an instant.
I flooded Hermione as she came. Our peaks combined, playing off each other. For an instant, the place we were connected could have been the hottest in the universe. Pleasure spread like wildfire, consuming our minds with the climax.
"So good~ Oh, so good~ Merlin, you're perfect, Hermione~" I continued praising as I all but collapsed on Hermione's back.
She let out a series of little gasps. The praise helped her come down from our momentous peak. Still twitching, her body relaxed beneath me. I stayed buried inside her long after my orgasm stopped.
Eventually, Heather brought us out of our afterglow, "Uh, that was hot. Like, really hot. But can you two move…? You're kinda both on top of me."
Groaning, I managed to lever myself upright. Hermione didn't move. She had her head buried in Heather's shoulder and she seemed almost unconscious. Heather looked up at me with amusement.
"So… Roleplay successful?"
"I wouldn't say that just yet," I grinned, getting my second wind. "I'd say your earlier efforts only earned you an 'A', Miss Potter. I'm sure you wouldn't be satisfied with anything other than an 'O', correct?"
Heather glanced at Hermione's insensate form, "Yeah… Yeah, I could go for a couple of 'O's…"
Smirking, I drew myself out of Hermione. The withdrawal earned an almost pathetic whimper that we all pretended to ignore. Aiming myself lower, I began to push forward into a tongue-ravished pussy. Test #2 started now…
31: Ice Queen of Hogwarts
Stats 8 to Body, 5 to Mind, 7 to Soul
Body: 438=51/100
Mind: 515=56/100
Soul: 467=53/100
Combat
2 to Melee, 3 to Dueling, 3 to Awareness, 5 to Agility, 8 to Tactics
Melee 52=7/100, Dueling 483=51/100, Awareness 393=42/100, Agility 405=45/100, Tactics 408=48/100
Magic
1 to Wanded Magic, 1 to Charms, 2 to DADA, 2 to Runes, 3 to Dark Arts, 4 to Occlumency, 5 to Wandless Magic, 10 to Black Blood Magic
Wanded Magic 601=61/100, Charms 591=60, DADA 612=63/100, Runes 542=56/100, Dark Arts 483=51/100, Occlumency 444=48/100, Wandless Magic 415=46/100, Black Blood Magic 1510=25/100
Social
2 to Teaching, 2 to Seduction, 2 to Influence, 3 to Willpower, 3 to Speech, 5 to Persuasion, 6 to Notoriety, 8 to Negotiation
Teaching 502=52/100, Seduction 482=50/100, Influence 382=40/100, Willpower 423=45/100, Speech 403=43/100, Persuasion 355=40/100, Notoriety 376=43/100, Negotiation 198=27/100
Social is now Tier 5
Creation
3 to Wards, 5 to Ritual Magic, 10 to Enchanting
Wards 413=44/100, Ritual Magic 445=49/100, Enchanting 3310=43/100
Creation is now Tier 4
I'd noticed a decrease in the pace of progress with my higher-level Disciplines. Something told me that improvement further than ~70 would be like grinding stones together. Appropriate but slow. Nothing motivated me as much as that idea. The slow progress just made each increase that much sweeter.
Before Fudge's fuckery, the Grind was how I spent my free time. It honestly wasn't all that different from my life before the System, learning, reading, and putting what I'd learned into practice. But especially after the Second Task and Fudge all but declaring war on me, the Grind served as a great way to vent frustration. Even under political siege, the Grind never stopped.
That frustration came from not being able to do anything about Fudge myself just yet. Narcissa promised my time would come but for now, the battle with Fudge was being fought in files and motions and meaningless bureaucratic political junk. Things that were very much not my area of expertise.
I learned something after getting my System. When possible, I was a man of action. Vindictive, satisfying action…
I'd rather kill a group of Death Eaters than see them arrested and inevitably released. I'd rather step up and do something than let Heather go through this whole tournament alone. I'd rather reveal myself and turn Pure-Blood society on its head for the year than sit back and take the charges leveled against me.
Funnily enough, this trend didn't seem to apply to my relationships. I was much more willing to go with the flow there. Not quite passive but not making the grand, unpredictable snap decisions of the rest of my life either.
Still, that meant I was left with nothing else to do but sit on my hands and Grind as Fudge and his toady did their best to make the tournament difficult for me and Heather. They were still insisting that my involvement was somehow unfair to the other champions… as if Heather wasn't at a three-year knowledge and skill disadvantage and hadn't been entered without her consent in what was definitely a plot to kill her and revive Voldemort.
Not to mention, Sirius had officially adopted Heather into House Black. And I still claimed her as my ward. Giving me, like, double authority to do what I've been doing and help her through the tournament.
According to Narcissa, Fudge didn't have a legal leg to stand on. Which just made things worse because he'd been crafty enough to make one up just for this purpose. The decrees that allowed him to declare himself Lord Triwizard were still in contentious debate within the Wizengamot but it didn't seem like their decision would matter any time soon. For now, Fudge had the power he needed to make things difficult.
Leading the Black Bloc like a general on the political battlefield, Narcissa had been Fudge's main opponent in the Wizengamot. She'd taken my instructions to heart and wrecked chaos through progress. Wolf's Bane assistance for Werewolves, job programs for Muggle-borns, and even a campaign of accountability for politically motivated bribes. It was that last one that we thought pushed Fudge into this corner he was lashing out from.
The only reason I hadn't already been removed from the tournament was that Fudge didn't have a good way to enforce his demands… yet… We were sure that was just about the only thing he was working on at the moment.
Hogwarts was still Dumbledore's domain. 'Lord Triwizard' couldn't change that. Using that power, the Headmaster was being as obstructive as possible to Fudge's attempts to separate me from Heather. Meaningless platitudes and conversations that just went in circles distracted Fudge from trying to place his people in Hogwarts. There was only so long even Dumbledore could keep that up though.
The other school Heads and their champions were helping as well, making their protests against this development very clear to their schools and the tournament organizers (Crouch, and now, Fudge). They threatened to go to the international press if this 'nonsense' continued.
Not only were they on my side after I averted the mess of the Second Task, but they also objected to what Fudge was doing on pure principle. The Triwizard Tournament was supposed to be a cooperative effort between three magical schools, after all. Having the Minister of a single country commandeer this iteration of it went directly against the spirit of that cooperation.
Narcissa went over the Ministry Decrees that gave Fudge his current power over the tournament. Percy was right. They were airtight and everything seemed to be in order.
The first gave the Minister special authority over any international competitions held on British soil. The next two elaborated on that authority and established the position of Lord Triwizard. The last allowed Fudge to appoint himself to that lordly position through what seemed to be an intentional loophole.
Technically, everything related to the Triwizard Tournament was now in Fudge's hands. From what chose the champions to the final prize, down to the Tasks themselves and even something as small as the champions' lodging.
Considering the original mess of the Second Task, that was a double-edged sword. We just had to make it through this initial push from Fudge to be able to turn that blade back against him.
In the meantime, we (Heather and I with the support of the whole coven) were simply enduring, going about our daily lives like nothing was wrong. It still lingered in my mind but I did my best to distract myself. Like by sitting in my room, reading a book from the Black Library on obscure, coven-based rituals while something much more interesting happened below my waist.
"Hmmmm~" I hummed, pleased. "Did either of you know there was a way for a coven to target multiple soul fragments with a ritual? It says here that it was used to banish and seal Kronos, a Wizard in Ancient Greece who fashioned himself as an 'Immortal Titan'. I suppose that's where the myth of him being chopped into pieces comes from."
Below my waist, Gabrielle paused with her lips around the head of my cock, raising an incredulous eyebrow up at me. Below her, Luna used her position cradled in Gabrielle's lap to blanket my balls with worshipful kisses.
I groaned, "I know, I know, I should be focusing on you two and the wonderful things you're currently doing. I guess I'm just… distracted."
Luna came off my ballsack with a pop, "Is this not enough to take your mind off the big bad chocolate Minister?"
I winced, "It's mostly the idea of having to leave Heather to her fate that's keeping my attention."
"Do not stress, Mon Ange~" Gabrielle purred, keeping her dainty fingers busy on my cock as she spoke. "Even if the fool does succeed, Heather will have the rest of the coven to lean on."
"And what if Fudge starts going after you all as well? I could easily see him escalating things to the coven and not caring a whit for the precedent it would set."
"If you can think that much, I am obviously not doing a good enough job down here. Luna darling? Would you care to move? It seems I must get serious~"
"Okay~!" Luna wiggled out of Gabrielle's lap and came around to sit on the armrest of my chair.
I barely had time to feel hesitation as Gabrielle smirked up at me. In a single smooth movement, she took me back into her mouth, swallowing around my cock and engulfing me to the base. Fire raced along my length. Rolling, swallowing throat muscles stoked the flames. Slick Nirvana did nothing to keep the fire from spiraling out of control.
"Oh, Me-… ! Gabrielle!" I moaned.
Luna planted kiss after kiss on my neck, "If this isn't enough to distract you, we can always plan your next date with Daphne."
"Fuuuuuuucccckkkk~ Being lavished with cock worship while silver whispers in my ear push me toward my next conquest…? Fleur is right… I really am a salacious Devil."
"Our Devil~" Luna giggled. "And she'll never believe we're the ones dragging you down with us instead of the other way around."
"She would never even consider the idea that Gabrielle came up with this all on her own," I agreed with a groan.
Gabrielle's eyes crinkled at me, smiling as she lewdly slurped her way up my shaft.
"Say… Do you think Daphne would be interested in hunting for infamous Black-painted Gothica with me? I hear they live in the Muggle world and even look remarkably like Humans~!"
"No… Maybe… Yes…? She does seem to like Muggle culture but I think you're just describing Goths. Daphne herself might even qualify as a 'Black-painted Gothica'."
"Oh, how wonderful~!" Luna exclaimed. "I simply must tell her of her new classification the next time I see her!"
"Weren't-… Weren't we supposed to be planning a date for her?" I managed to force out between gritted teeth.
"Oh, I suppose we were… Well, you've spent the most time with her. What do you think she would like to do?"
"S-Something with politics? Though maybe that would be more appropriate for her mother. I imagine Daphne wouldn't want to go on a date to the Wizengamot and have to meet her dad… I'd say something Muggle but I doubt I could justify taking her out of the Castle like that."
"Why not just use the Room of Requirement? It really can be anything you imagine. I've spent a few nights skipping through a forest it conjures at 2 AM."
"It… does simplify quite a few problems," I considered. "I just feel like we're using it a bit much. It's such an astounding feat of magic and we use it for what? Meetings and training sessions? Surely, there's only so many times you can use the same room for something so menial."
"Is the Room really the same room if it's a different room every time you use the Room?" Luna cocked her head, acting as if she hadn't just said an almost meaningless sentence.
"Yes…" I deadpanned. "Also, I know what you're doing, Missy. Don't think you can get away with using 'room' that many times in a sentence around me. I know you have an expansive vocabulary. Use it."
Luna stuck her tongue out at me cutely, "Ne~ Room."
"Oh, just take her to a personal matinee and be done with it!" Gabrielle snapped, finally getting frustrated that Luna and I weren't giving her actions the attention she deserved.
"Matinee?" I asked with a chuckle and raised brow.
Gabrielle huffed, her cheeks slightly pink, "Shut up."
And since she still held my manly pride in her hand, I did. Thankfully, she didn't let her embarrassment dissuade her from continuing. With a long lick up my length, she dove right back in. My head fell back instantly as I was overtaken by a nimble tongue and plump, pillowy lips.
For the moment, Daphne fell to the back of my mind. Even Luna barely stayed present in my thoughts and that was only because she felt perfect against my side, cheering Gabrielle on. Gabrielle's sinful Veela lips all but stole my soul.
I suppose that decided what I was doing for the date. After this, I wouldn't be able to think of any new ideas if my life was on the line. Besides, a Muggle movie seemed like something Daphne would enjoy. Just had to figure out how to get the Room to provide the necessary components… Ah, later. Much later. After putting Gabrielle in her place and thanking her for taking my mind off of my worries…
IIIII
Daphne Greengrass elegantly slipped away from the watchful eyes of her housemates with practiced ease. She was used to the realities of living in Slytherin. One of those realities - perhaps the most important one - was to never give your housemates any extra information to work with. Good or bad, it never did to not be in control of your image and situation.
Daphne carefully maintained a certain persona in Hogwarts. Every Slytherin did. Even Draco Malfoy, though his persona consisted of much more bragging and posturing than most until recently.
Still, it could be useful to have a brash figure like Draco to take the blame at times. And he'd been getting better since he was inducted back into House Black and gotten a date to the Yule Ball. To think he returned the next morning with his clothes in tatters, a very pronounced limp, and enough scratches on his back that Snape thought he'd run afoul of a Werewolf…
Blaise Zabini was smooth, suave, and ruthless. Partially inherited from his infamous mother, his public persona would talk you into bed and slit your throat in the morning.
Tracey Davis was friendly, well-connected, and well-liked. She had to be to survive as a Half-Blood in Slytherin. She could get you anything you asked for. Anything. She also happened to be Daphne's best friend and Daphne knew there was more to Tracey than the simple, people-pleaser she showed Hogwarts.
Even Astoria, Daphne's little sister, had a persona all of her own. She was bubbly, energetic, and cute enough that people routinely underestimated her. Even those who knew better. Yet she was still the daughter of Ada Greengrass. Astoria could singlehandedly ruin every Slytherin in her year group and get away with it by flashing those devious puppy dog eyes.
Daphne's persona wasn't something she cultivated on purpose. Not at first, at least. Was it her fault she was apparently bad at expressing emotions and her face looked like it was carved from ice? No, but that image could be very useful.
She was cool, calm, collected, calculating, and many other descriptive C-words. To the rest of Hogwarts, at least. Inside, Daphne could admit that sometimes she didn't have a clue. But thanks to her public persona, she always seemed like she was in control of any situation.
From wrangling Astoria (no one could really control Astoria) to that time Pansy accused her of stealing her hair products in Second Year (Daphne didn't but she never admitted either way and now Draco owed her a small favor).
Her 'Ice Queen' persona did wonders keeping pushy older boys away and making her appear more collected than she thought she really was. But it did get annoying when only her few friends and family bothered to try looking past her expressive difficulties. If not for Tracy, Blaise, and Astoria, Daphne probably would have been much colder than she actually was.
Now, a potential fourth person (Fifth? Sixth? Mother and Father did count for something, after all) was making his way into that very limited circle that kept Daphne from freezing over completely.
Atlas White. Professor Atlas. Heir Black. Daphne's Betrothed. The second two titles should have been intimidating. But somehow, they weren't, only sending tingles to parts of Daphne she didn't want to mention.
Perhaps, like her mother, Daphne had a thing for power. It was an open secret that Ada ruled House Greengrass, only kept from the House's Wizengamot seat by the silly Lord title and her own cunning. It was so much more fun to let their opponents meet Cygnus and think House Greengrass was an easy mark…
Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that Atlas almost overeagerly handed her the keys to their engagement. The final decision was Daphne's to make and hers alone. Not her mother's. Not Atlas'. It was a certain amount of freedom and power over her fate that sent Daphne's teenage heart fluttering.
The courting process was going well so far. At least in Daphne's opinion, that is. They weren't open about the courting or their betrothal in general. Daphne figured it would cause more trouble and pressure than it was worth, especially when she lived in the same dorm as Pansy 'casually-calls-Atlas-Lord-Daddy' Parkinson.
Still, they found time to be alone together. Since the end of the Yule Break, Atlas made a habit of privately tutoring Daphne. Even if she was often second or third place in her year. And Daphne did her best to always appear out of Atlas' shadow when he least expected it or was otherwise alone. That's what girlfriends did, right?
"And I suppose the Gryffindors are next," Atlas mumbled to himself, going over a lesson plan.
"Good luck with them. Seamus Finnigan seems to have managed to brew moonshine beneath his bed and the Fourth Year Boys will all be very drunk this class. Yes, even Neville," Daphne said, having been lurking in the shadows of the room since Professor Flitwick left for his break.
"Merlin, Daphne!" Atlas exclaimed in surprise. "Shouldn't you be in Potions right now? Are you stalking me?"
Daphne's pause wasn't very convincing but she pressed on anyway, "… No. I'm simply spending time with you. We are courting, remember?"
"Is that how that works?"
"… Yes."
"Alright, well, feel free to make yourself known next time," Atlas smirked.
Strangely enough, Daphne felt her cheeks heat up, "… I'm sure that won't be necessary. I'm… going to class now. Don't look for me. I won't be here…"
She sunk back into Atlas' shadow. Not literally, but enough that he would think she left the room. It wasn't like Snape would actually punish her for skipping class. And watching Atlas was much more interesting than brewing the same potion she'd already mastered.
"What a strangely charming girl…" Atlas chuckled, seemingly to himself.
Daphne remembered wondering if her little disappearing act had fooled him. He didn't acknowledge or object to her presence after that. So it must have… right?
The following Gryffindor-Hufflepuff class was as interesting as Daphne promised it would be. The Gryffindor boys made the expected ruckus, from Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas breaking out into a pub song at one point to Neville Longbottom acting like a properly dashing Pure-Blood Lord instead of showing that side of himself in bits and pieces like he usually did.
Seamus and Dean were dismissed as they always were but Neville's behavior certainly attracted attention. It was rare to see the Hidden Lion of Fourth Year actually act the part. Inebriation seemed to wipe away his anxieties and if Daphne didn't know better, she would have said his behavior was positively Slytherin.
It certainly gained him appreciative looks from the Pure-Bloods in class, none more so than Susan Bones who practically hissed every time Neville smoothly sidestepped Lavender Brown's sudden advances. It was a bit of information Daphne already knew but still tucked away for later. With the states of House Longbottom and House Bones, that pairing would always need a third. And with the way Hannah Abbott was sticking by best friend's side and giving Longbottom the same doe eyes, that third may already be decided.
Daphne nodded to herself. That was a strong triangle in the making. Abbott was a second child. Her brother would be shouldering the Abbott name anyway. This way, House Longbottom and House Bones could both get heirs, hopefully without complication or contention.
By the end of the class, all three Gryffindor boys managed to earn themselves detention (Ronald Weasley still hadn't been heard from since he was removed from the Great Hall before Yule, though he was rarely missed). Neville's detention was given by Atlas with an almost proud smile and assurances that it would be one-on-one to continue something they'd started earlier. Seamus and Dean were passed off to Professor McGonagall, though, to actually be punished as the rightful causes of this class' chaos.
After all of the students (and Professor Flitwick once again) left the classroom, Atlas asked the seemingly empty room, "Still here, Daphne?"
If Daphne's heart skipped, it didn't show on her face, "… No. I just got back. I went to class and haven't been here watching the entire time."
"Of course," Atlas accepted her excuse way too easily. "Since you must be tired from all the hard work you put into potions, would you like to take a break with me?"
If Daphne pretended not to notice the smirk on Atlas' face, it wouldn't make the butterflies flutter in her stomach, "Sure. I am rather exhausted. Dealing with… Professor Snape and everything…"
Atlas nodded, "I know the feeling. How do you feel about doing something a bit Muggle to unwind?"
"In Hogwarts?"
"In Hogwarts."
"Okay."
"Great. I know just the place," Atlas stood, collecting all his things with a wave of his hand. "Would you care to take my arm so I may escort you?"
"And risk Pansy's reaction if we're seen together like that? I'm not a Gryffindor, Atlas."
Damn gentleman… Didn't he know how that offer made something flutter inside her?
"House Elf Express, it is then," Atlas decided, suddenly spinning to face her for the first time in their disjointed conversation. "Dobby? A lift, if you would?"
Daphne barely had time to show her surprise. One second, her eyes widened slightly. The next, she was taken by the hand and spun to fall against Atlas' chest. Her mind stuttered and with a pop, they were somewhere else.
Taking a breath full of Atlas' scent (another thing that stuttered her brain), Daphne took a step back. Almost immediately, her usual icy facade fell back over her face. She raised an eyebrow, channeling her mother to squash the heat in her cheeks.
"Do you often whisk away girls without their consent?" Daphne asked.
"Only when they've been stalking me all day," Atlas shot back with a grin.
"Wonderful," Daphne drawled, her voice monotone and practically dripping with sarcasm. "It seems that French Veela was right. My betrothed really is a rogue and a villain."
"Please don't take any inspiration from her. One Fleur in my life is more than enough," Atlas said quickly.
The corner of Daphne's lips twitched up, "I'll consider it. Where are we?"
"I probably shouldn't say. But there's an exceptional bit of magic in play here that will let us bring the joys of Muggle entertainment to Hogwarts."
Looking around, Daphne paused to examine the odd tapestry on the wall. She heard Atlas paced back and forth behind her and when she turned back to him, he was framed by a doorway that wasn't there a moment ago.
Daphne's only reaction to the door's appearance was a very understated hum, "Hmm."
"C'mon, let's see what the Room cooked up for us this time."
Hmm, indeed. That he didn't outright tell her where they were suggested Atlas wanted to keep this location secret for some reason, even from her. That he just called it 'the Room' lent more credence to that theory. This was a single hallway in a very large castle. It was unlikely Daphne would be able to find her way back here unassisted.
Perhaps this was the place he disappeared to have his - according to Hogwarts gossip - many sordid affairs? Not that Daphne believed the rumors. If anything, Atlas was rather open with his relationships. Not outright confirming them but not denying or hiding anything either. The secret of their betrothal was mostly kept by Daphne's efforts.
Atlas led the way into this mysterious 'Room' and Daphne followed. She was instantly surprised by the setting she stepped into. It was so… Muggle. As if it wasn't even connected to the rest of the Castle.
Closed curtains lined the walls. Strange, artistically decorative panels were placed above them, painted black with gold lines. Daphne knew she'd seen the style before. Art Deco? Something Muggle like that.
It looked nice though. Sleek and almost futuristic looking in a way nothing in the Wizarding world managed to match. And then there were the lights in this strange room. They seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. Not in a magical way. Just due to very clever placement.
Set against the far wall of the room was something that looked almost like a large sheet of canvas. What purpose it could have here, Daphne could only guess. Before the canvas, two very comfortable-looking reclining chairs faced the same direction.
"… How did you manage to get a movie theater into Hogwarts?" Daphne asked, covering her surprise with a monotone voice.
"Magic~" Atlas teased, his eyes practically sparkling with amusement.
She fixed him with a flat look, "You're not clever…"
Atlas laughed, "I rather disagree. But I didn't lie. It is magic. Magic even I don't fully understand."
"Hmm…" Daphne tucked that bit of information away.
It seemed Atlas had only happened upon this place by chance as well. He didn't make it but was taking advantage of it anyway. The picture painted in her mind didn't make any sense yet but Daphne would keep putting the pieces together. Maybe if she found out enough, she could find this place without Atlas' help and continue her stalk-… courting even when he disappeared here.
"So I imagine you've brought us here for a movie?" Daphne changed the subject.
"Yeah," Atlas nodded. "It's a common activity for Muggle dates. I think… I'm pretty sure, at least. And I figured you would enjoy this more than helping me play at politics or something."
Daphne suddenly got a premonition of running into her father while on a 'political' date with Atlas and shivered, "… Yes. You figured correctly."
"And I have something special planned for what we watch. Never seen it before. In fact, I don't think it's even available to buy for the Muggle public yet. How it's even here is a mystery…
"But the poster looks promising and-… Hrk~!" He stopped himself to muffle a humored snort. "-Relatable… No idea how the projector will work but I figure the Room knows what it's doing. It's almost sentient at times…"
Another bit of information to add to her mental puzzle. Now to find out what part of the Castle was sentient… Or maybe just differently sentient? It was commonly accepted that Hogwarts herself was alive in some magical way. Was this place another sentience inside the already sentient Castle? Like Russian Nesting Dolls of magical intelligence?
Still, Daphne nodded as if she wasn't pondering the wonders of Hogwarts, "Okay. This sounds… acceptable."
Smiling, Atlas took her hand and guided her to the seats in the center of the room. Daphne managed to ignore her raised heartbeat long enough to sink into the chair. Even as her body was caressed by pillows, her face stayed expressionless, not letting any of her inner enjoyment show.
"Popcorn?" Atlas offered.
Daphne paused for a moment before springing into action, "… Mine."
The entire basket of popcorn was snatched out of Atlas' hands before he could blink. Daphne began to munch, her expression still not shifting at all. All Atlas could do was chuckle and wave his hands to start the projector and movie.
The Muggle lights dimmed. A ray of light beamed onto the canvas, bringing with it moving pictures. Credits rolled. The sound of caroling Muggles filled the theater.
The view panned across the Muggles before shifting upward to reveal a group of people on the roof of a mansion. A surprisingly Wizarding-looking cauldron bubbled and steamed. One of the people began tipping it upon the carolors below. Off to the side, a cold, noble-looking woman watched impassively. Her husband clapped his hands in joy by her side. And Daphne was left only able to think of her… family.
The title card appeared within the cauldron as it tipped, "The Addams Family."
"Was that supposed to be a true story of my family or a fictional coincidence?" Daphne asked in a deadpan after the movie finished.
Atlas chuckled, "The similarities are rather striking, aren't they?"
"Uncanny," Daphne flatly replied.
"Anyone in your family, or who knows your family well, that might have gone off to Hollywood and sold your story?"
Daphne was already shaking her head when she paused, "No-… Uncle Fester?"
Atlas couldn't stop himself from barking with laughter, "Ha! Didn't even use a fake name! Oh my, I really hope that's true."
She didn't pout but the corner of Daphne's lip twitched, "This isn't funny, Atlas."
"So you didn't enjoy the movie?" He shot back.
Daphne scoffed, "Hardly. I just find it a bit concerning how similar Morticia and Gomez were to my parents… And how similar Pugsley was to Astoria…"
"And Wednesday?"
"What about her?"
"Her constant deadpan delivery doesn't ring any bells?"
"I'm nowhere near as creepy as her."
"Right… Says the girl who did her best to spend the entire day in my shadow."
Daphne sniffed, "That's different. We're courting, after all."
Atlas smothered more chuckles, "If you say so."
"Whatever…" Daphne rolled her eyes. "My housemates will undoubtedly be missing me at this point. I should really be going."
"I'll see you out," Atlas offered. "Don't worry about cleaning up. The Room will take care of it."
Standing and heeding his advice, Daphne followed Atlas out of the room. She noticed the door disappear once they left. Just something to make finding this place again a bit more difficult. They stopped in front of that strange tapestry, staring at each other until Daphne broke the silence.
"… I had a good time during this… 'outing'. You were quite agreeable. Shall we do it again?"
"I imagine we'll have to," Atlas chuckled. "As you've reminded me, we are courting."
"Yes…" Daphne said, quickly lapsing into awkward silence without knowing what else to say.
Thankfully, Atlas came to her rescue, saying leadingly, "You know… most dates like this seem to end with a kiss."
"Ah… Very well."
"Very well?"
"Yes…? Why aren't you kissing me yet?"
"That wasn't exactly clear approval, Daphne," Atlas murmured, stepping into her personal space as he did.
Daphne felt her breath hitch, "I… I thought I was clear enough…"
"Clear enough about what?" Atlas asked, lingering inches away from her lips.
"That… you should… kiss me…?" The words were stolen from Daphne by the almost teasing look in his eyes.
"If you insist~" Atlas purred, dipping his head to follow through with Daphne's 'request'.
Daphne could hear her heartbeat in her ears. Her blood pumped. Her excitement spiked, pooling somewhere in her lower abdomen. Tingles played out across her skin. It was like time seemed to speed up and slow down at the same time. She spent minutes staring at Atlas' lips drift closer to hers and mere instants before they finally touched.
Warm. Oh-so warm. Not quite hot. She wouldn't burn herself on his lips. Not yet, at least. Anything but cold. Atlas' lips smoldered slow and steady against hers. That warmth spread through Daphne's body, fluttering and flickering around every emotion she'd ever experienced. Her eyes lidded and drifted closed as she let herself be taken along for the ride.
Moments later - moments that felt like hours -, a sound interrupted them. Someone cleared their throat. Atlas slowly withdrew from the kiss. Daphne almost followed without realizing it, only stopped by a hand on her hip.
When Daphne's eyes opened again, she realized they were no longer alone. Professor Septima Vector watched from nearby with a distracted look on her face. Despite herself, Daphne felt her face freeze. Nothing in her expression changed…
"I'm sorry to interrupt you, Daphne dear, but I need to borrow Atlas from you. It's important," Septima said.
"What's up?" Atlas asked, instantly recognizing her unusual tone. She didn't even offer Daphne a spot in the coven! It wasn't like her at all and something must have been wrong.
Septima hesitated for only a moment, "Fudge has made his move. He's installed his Undersecretary at Hogwarts to act as the High Overseer of the Triwizard Tournament. And…"
"And?"
"And she seems to have decided the best way to get to you is through Heather at the moment…"
Atlas' expression gave Daphne's usual icy mien a run for its money. Stone-faced and serious, he took a step back from Daphne. Something intangible coiled tightly around him. The air sparked and his eyes glowed with inner light.
Daphne felt her breath stolen from her again for an entirely different reason. Suddenly, standing in that hallway felt like being at the bottom of the Black Lake. The weight of the world and magic pressed down on her. Daphne had never been so enraptured by anything in her life.
Atlas asked only a single question, his words bearing the same weight as the rest of his presence at the moment, " Where? "
32: Vanquisher of Toads
I knew this was coming. It wasn't a surprise. Fudge needed a way to enforce his decrees. That's all this was. Of course, he would appoint his little toady. We'd prepared for something like this. But for them to attack Heather first…?
I was still rightly pissed off.
"What the absolute, bloody Hell are you playing at, Umbridge?!"
I quite literally stormed into the Great Hall. My magic kicked up unseen winds around me. Lightning sparked on my skin. A hurricane of pure potential made real cleared the path for me. The doors slammed into the wall on either side, shoved open without so much as a conscious thought.
There was mad and then there was whatever I felt at that moment. After two weeks, the frustration of Fudge's attempts to disrupt my life had built to a fever pitch. And now it had a chance to be released. It boiled off me as pure magic and emotion, bending reality around me in small ways. And the perfect target for that frustration was now in front of me.
It wasn't quite lunch yet. The Great Hall was still plenty full of witnesses along with my target. Unfortunately, the staff members who could actually do something weren't here yet, leaving Heather to Umbridge's attacks. The toad stood above Heather at the Gryffindor table. Her posture dripped condescension and hostile intent. My vision narrowed until I could see only the two Witches, ally and foe…
My thunderous entrance interrupted whatever 'well-meaning' lecture she was giving Heather. Umbridge jumped like a frightened animal, spinning to look at me with wide eyes. Just the sight of me made her shiver but she managed to collect herself rather quickly.
"A-Ah, Heir Black… So wonderful of you to join us. I was just informing Miss Potter of the new realities of our situation. I-I'm sure you understand…"
"Is that why I was told you were bullying my ward to try and get to me?"
"Bullying is such a crude word… I was merely applying the appropriate amount of pressure," Umbridge demurred.
Keeping my gaze on Umbridge so I could stare her into the floor, I addressed Heather, "Alright, Heather?"
"Yeah, she wasn't that bad. Insufferable and… disgusting… but I never thought she was going to draw her wand on me," Heather answered.
I narrowed my eyes at Umbridge, "The fact that was even in question is concerning enough."
Sensing the danger in my voice, Umbridge tried to make excuses and shove the blame onto me, "I'm sure everything can be reasonably explained if you simply listen to me instead of this upstart glory hound of a Half-Blood.
"There is no need for your abhorrent overreaction, Heir Black. Please, have some class and show the elegance afforded to you by your blood."
Oh, this bitch… My core flared along with my indignation and anger. Pops and cracks surrounded me from inside and out. The smell of ozone - airy and bitter enough to taste - filtered into my nose. The air grew heavy with intent. The very world around me seemed to shake.
20 years old and I was about two seconds from an attack of accidental magic that would have put any child to shame. My Occlumency shields slammed down inside my mind and still, the anger didn't pass. If anything, it only grew more focused like a contained explosion at the end of a long barrel, aiming directly at Umbridge. This complete and utter bitch …
"Oh, fuck…" Heather muttered, fading into the background as I glared at Umbridge with enough ferocity to actually burn her.
Umbridge stood tall out of some misguided sense of pride. She did her best to appear unbothered but I could feel her knees weakening. I could feel her heart thundering in her chest. I could feel her fear.
IIIII
Heather had been having such a normal day. Neville and the boys were hilarious in class, drunk off something or other that Seamus managed to brew. She was plotting a new prank on Atlas and the coven, debating whether or not to involve Luna. Despite Fudge and the tournament looming overhead, she barely had a worry in the world.
That was mostly because the coven had a plan. They weren't going to just roll over and take Fudge's indirect assault. He may have had 'authority' over the tournament now but what did that matter if no one paid him any respect?
It was half protest, half prank, and 100 percent brilliant in Heather's book. The other champions were on board, seeing Fudge's decrees for what they were. His power grab was useless if the people who were supposed to answer to that power just… ignored it.
All the important stuff was already decided and established. The champions were sworn to a magical contract and even if she wasn't, Heather would have welcomed being disqualified. Her 'champion privileges' were eliminated but it wasn't like Heather used those much. Skipping class whenever she wanted might have been fun if her best friend wasn't Hermione Granger and being allowed to hire tutors was largely useless with the coven on her side.
Initially, they'd been worried Fudge would prevent her from competing and use the tournament's contract to strip Heather of her magic. But it seemed even Fudge wasn't willing to go that far just yet. Fudge still answered to public opinion, after all, and 'squibbing' Heather was something not even Dumbledore could get away with. All Fudge was left with was planning the only Task left in the tournament.
That might have been a concern but Atlas was preparing her for anything. As far as Heather could tell, Fudge only succeeded in making more work for himself. The title of 'Lord Triwizard' was worrying at first but was turning out to be largely empty.
Fudge was clearly lashing out. Narcissa had used House Black and their voting bloc to back him into a corner. Worst of all, she threatened his money.
And with the aftermath of Atlas' trial and his Veritaserum-induced threat of retribution, the walls seemed to be coming down around the Minister. Add in the crimes of the Ministry against Sirius and Bella (even if they were committed by the former administration), the fact that a respected Pure-Blood like Narcissa was openly going against the status quo Fudge's Ministry ran on and perpetrated, and Fudge's time in office was looking more and more limited.
This whole scheme was just to try and hurt Atlas and House Black. Narcissa's best guess was that Fudge was hoping to leave Heather without aid so she was either maimed or killed by the tournament. By complete and unavoidable accident, of course…
Then Fudge could turn the story around on Atlas again, asking why he didn't train his ward better. He'd make Atlas and House Black seem at fault, pushing his own meddling to the side and sweeping it under the rug. And with the Girl-Who-Lived harmed, House Black (mostly Atlas and Sirius) would bear the blame to the Wizarding public, greatly diminishing their influence and wrapping them up in scandal.
Personally, Heather thought that was too crafty and devious a plan for Fudge to come up with on his own. She'd met the Minister and Slytherin wasn't a word she'd use to describe him. Greedy? Yes, definitely. But he felt more like a Hufflepuff bad apple to her.
In the end, it didn't quite matter what Fudge was. Heather and Atlas were still awaiting the consequences of his decrees. And nearly two weeks after the Second Task those consequences finally arrived in truth, bringing a grotesque toad to enforce them upon Hogwarts. Heather's normal day was ruined before lunch even began…
She walked into the Great Hall, her mind occupied by simpler things like the best way to steal one of Atlas' shirts. Hermione had begged off, saying she would catch up after returning a book to the library. And so Heather was alone just before lunch started, sitting at the Gryffindor table with her focus on her thoughts.
"Hem-hem… !" A fake, sickly sweet voice pulled Heather out of those pleasant thoughts.
Heather looked to the source of the voice and her face twisted slightly. She recognized Undersecretary Umbridge from Atlas' trial and she was so much worse looking in person. All artificial pink, overdone makeup, and the mother of all holier-than-thou attitudes.
"Can I help you?"
"Not at all, Miss Potter. In fact, it is I that can help you," The toad answered, her voice grating in Heather's ears.
"I don't think I want any help you can give me," Heather barely tried to hide her disgust and contempt.
Umbridge's eye twitched but she laughed it off, "Ohohoh! Quite the jester, aren't you? Sadly, I must ask you to be serious and respectful. This is Ministry business, after all. It wouldn't do to have people think the Girl-Who-Lived doesn't respect the Minister of Magic, would it?"
"I don't respect the Minister though. Especially not after the mess he's pulling with the tournament. Which is undoubtedly why you're here."
Umbridge glanced around at the crowd they were beginning to draw. No one stepped close enough to interfere but plenty were right on that edge. For now, the students were just curious but who knew how quickly that could change.
"Hem-hem!" Umbridge faked clearing her throat. "Everyone is entitled to their own opinion, even misguided and uninformed ones. That is not what I'm here to discuss."
Her glare at Heather said something completely different, "Shut up, child."
"Yeah?" Heather bit back a smirk. "Out with it then. What do you want?"
Umbridge drew herself up, taking Heather's acceptance as a sign that she once again had control of the situation, "The Minister has installed me as High Overseer of the Triwizard Tournament, as is his right as Lord Triwizard. I'm here to make sure his decrees are actually followed by the good law-abiding citizens of the Castle.
"And since the Minister's first decision was to remove the… Black Heir… from the tournament, I am here to see that through. Don't fret any longer, Miss Potter. I shall get you out from under his cruel, lecherous, Muggle-raised thumb!"
Her declaration sent murmurs through the gathered crowd. Umbridge stood as proud as can be, arrogantly oblivious to the reaction she'd gained. Especially from her target Heather, who stared at her with offense and no small amount of confusion written across her face.
"Atlas has only helped me. And he was the only adult willing to step up for me when I was falsely entered into this tournament," Heather said. "Why would I want to 'get out from under his thumb'?"
"Well, it just isn't fair, is it?" Umbridge said matter-of-factly. "For a champion to have such an outside influence assisting them? It isn't proper. No, not the way things are done. It's a disgrace to the Triwizard name and the Minister means to rectify it."
"Fair went out the window when a Fourth Year was entered into the tournament against her will!" Heather shouted, standing up.
Umbridge tutted as if Heather was being unreasonable, "Tsk, now, sit down, young lady. There's no reason to get mad at me for your own failings. Have you considered trying harder?"
Heather very nearly saw red, "I try plenty hard! With Atlas' help! And now you want to take away my only chance at survival?! For what alternative? Becoming a ward of the Minister? Is Fudge going to personally train me to beat a Dragon?!"
Umbridge adopted a considering look, more than willing to ignore Heather's righteous rage, "Ah, that's not a bad idea… Think of the good publicity. 'Minister Trains Girl-Who-Lived!'."
"Even I can see how blatant a power grab this is!" Heather threw her hands in the air.
"Quiet, girl. You'd be lucky to be trained by our glorious Minister," Umbridge snapped. "He could even show you how a real Wizard handles things, unlike that Muggle Lord of yours."
Heather retched, "Hurk-! Oh, God, I'm gonna be sick…"
Umbridge continued ignoring her, "Yes… That might set you right. I've always lamented how the hero of the Wizarding world was raised. Perhaps you just need a proper Wizard to put you back on the right track, Miss Potter…"
"You're evil… Actually evil… Worse than Voldemort," Heather gagged.
"Aaah!" Umbridge shrieked. "Watch your tongue, Miss Potter! Mentioning that name in public… Don't you have any decency?!"
"Don't you?" Heather shot back.
They stared each other down. Umbridge tried on her most scathing glare to shame Heather into apologizing. Heather ignored it, trying to bleach her mind of the implication of Umbridge's prior suggestion. She felt so filthy just thinking about the possibility…
Then Atlas made his entrance and the filth Heather was feeling was washed away in an instant. His presence filled the Great Hall. Thunder accompanied his steps. A storm brewed in his eyes. His magic drowned out all noise with a dull roar. And Heather felt herself cocooned and comforted by a blanket of familiarity, raging as it was in her name.
All throughout Atlas' confrontation with Umbridge, Heather could feel that familiar magic building. The whole Great Hall could feel it. Even Umbridge, judging by the way her knees quaked under the unseen pressure. Why she continued anyway, due to ignorance or arrogance, Heather didn't know.
"-show the elegance afforded to you by your blood."
"Oh fuck," Heather muttered.
She took a step back. The rest of the gathered crowd did the same. Umbridge looked like she wanted to be anywhere but where she was. Like she wanted to have said anything but what she said.
Atlas didn't draw his wand. He didn't even move. But he still managed to put the fear of God into the Undersecretary.
His magic practically boiled the air around him. The ceiling of the Great Hall felt like it was about to come down on everyone at any moment. Pure potential swelled within him, visible even from the outside.
And his eyes. His eyes glowed an eerie purple. They were so thick with emotion and intent that they were impossible to deny. Despite herself, Heather was hypnotized, enraptured, enthralled, captivated, and utterly taken. And she knew she wasn't the only one.
There was a certain magnetism to Atlas at that moment. A certain pull - deep, dark, powerful, and full of emotion - that made it impossible to look away. The world seemed to hold its breath. Magic came alive. Everyone in the Great Hall was spellbound. Everyone but Dolores Umbridge.
Atlas didn't lash out. His magic was slowly brought under control and made as sharp as a knife. His expression may as well have been carved from marble. He didn't even blink.
When Atlas spoke, it was in a deadly whisper, "… I'm sorry. I don't think I heard you correctly. Care to repeat yourself, Madam Undersecretary?"
Whisper or not, Atlas was heard clear as day within the Great Hall. People gasped involuntarily, too caught up in the events in front of them to even recognize their reactions.
Umbridge whimpered. It wasn't the sound of a person - Witch or Muggle. It was a rabbit's final death keel as it realized it was within the jaws of a wolf. It was the last whimper of life leaving the lungs. It was pants-wetting terror. Quite literally in Dolores' case.
Her vision blurred. Almost nothing from her surroundings was clear. Only those eyes within a shadow bigger than anything she'd ever seen. Thoughts warped with fear or shut down entirely. She wouldn't remember any of this if she survived. All that remained was Fight or Flight. And Fight was never an option.
"N-N-Never mind! I-I-… ! Overseer! Tournament! Minister! Potter! Heir Black! G-Good day!"
Umbridge couldn't string a sentence together if her life depended on it. Thankfully, it didn't. It depended on fleeing as fast as possible and finding a place to hide and cry and change her panties.
She scampered away as fast as her stumpy little legs would carry her, muttering insanely all the while, "Survive, survive, survive, survive, survive-…"
After she'd left the Great Hall, Atlas took a long, slow breath. The unseen pressure lessened. The colossal shadow he didn't know was behind him evaporated into thin air. But his eyes still glowed even when he opened them again, otherwise as calm and collected as usual. Or at least, they did until Heather came up to him and laid serious hands on his shoulders, looking up at him with a grim expression.
"You need to fuck me. Right now. Here, your room, I don't care. Just-… Fuck! You have no idea how hot that was!"
The glow in Atlas' eyes flickered off and on a few times before returning to normal, "Wait, what?"
"Dibs on round two!" Pansy called from the speechless gathered crowd.
"What…?"
IIIII
"Did she really learn nothing from her first day here?" I asked, more than a little dumbfounded.
"Eh, I think she's just completely repressed it. You made her piss herself with a single question, Atlas. Not gonna be her happiest memory," Heather snorted.
"I think that's about right," Hermione added. "From what Heather told me, being the focus of your attention then would have been traumatic for anyone."
"Who knew being too terrifying would affect how well you get your point across…" I grumbled halfheartedly.
"Hem-hem-!" Umbridge cleared her throat, trying and failing at stern intimidation. "Miss Potter, Heir Black, we are in the middle of class. Surely you can save your… conversation for a better time."
Professor McGonagall cleared her throat in return, succeeding where Umbridge did not, "Ahem… This is not your classroom, Madam Undersecretary, and you are not a member of the Hogwarts staff. Do not presume you can police my students or my assistant."
Umbridge scoffed, "Pish posh, Minerva. I am simply doing my duty as High Overseer."
Professor McGonagall's nostrils flared and her voice dripped with sarcasm, "Oh? I was not aware Fourth Year Transfiguration fell under the umbrella of the Triwizard Tournament. I've only been teaching this class for 50 years. I'm sure you have a much more solid basis of understanding here than I, Madam Undersecretary."
Nodding pompously, Umbridge said, "It's so good to see you willing to admit your shortcomings, Minerva. Thankfully, you have me here to pick up the slack."
"Madam-… No. Dolores…" Professor McGonagall's voice grew cold as she disregarded formality. "You seem to forget failing my class with distinction 25-odd years ago. The idea that you can 'pick up the slack', as you've said, is quite frankly laughable. You are not a professor. Or even a caretaker. Truthfully, I haven't the foggiest why you're in my classroom at all."
Umbridge sputtered at the indignity, "W-Wha-! I could have your job for that insult!"
That was enough for me to step in as well, "Right, I'm going to stop you there. You can't even begin to hope for the authority to back up that threat."
Umbridge spun to face me and my interruption. She looked ready to start railing at me but then her eyes met mine. She froze in place and all that came out of her unnecessarily flapping mouth was a terrified little squeak. It seemed her body remembered what her mind didn't.
Once it was obvious she couldn't say anything, I continued, "You're obviously not wanted here, Umbridge. So do us all a favor and move along, yeah? You can play your little power games when there aren't students here trying to learn."
No matter how much I wanted to just banish her out of the room, I knew better than to give her and Fudge that kind of ammunition. Instead, I just shooed her with my hand. She was already moving before her brain could formulate a response, her body obeying me as an automatic fear response.
To her credit - what little credit that was -, Umbridge eventually recovered before leaving the classroom. By that point, though, she was already at the door and couldn't reasonably turn around. She still made sure to glare at me while she tried to pretend her exit was entirely her choice.
With Umbridge gone, the whole classroom seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. The Undersecretary certainly hadn't made any friends at Hogwarts, especially after our confrontation at her first appearance. The students hated her. The staff barely tolerated her. And those feelings seemed to be returned by Umbridge, who didn't have an ounce of respect in her body for anyone other than the Minister.
"Thank you for that, Atlas," Professor McGonagall said, sighing the tension out of her posture. "I was worried I would have to take action to see her removed from my class. She's always been an unpleasantly stubborn woman. The less said about her time as a student here, the better."
"You're welcome but it was no trouble, Minerva," I dismissed with a smile. "I don't think she could hate or target me any more than she already does."
She nodded in commiseration, "I'm afraid you're all too correct in that belief, Atlas."
Class resumed and I let the toad fade into background thoughts for the moment. The original plan was to push whoever Fudge sent to enforce his demands until they went too far in front of too many people. It quickly became apparent that our active part in that plan just wasn't necessary.
Umbridge couldn't help herself. Sometimes, I think she wasn't even trying to be obtuse and unlikable. She just attracted people's ire everywhere she went. Even after making her piss herself in front of a good portion of the students, Umbridge kept coming at me and Heather. All we had to do was sit back, shoot her down, and wait until she saw herself exiled from the Castle.
I kicked her out of class that morning and yet by dinner, she was already coming back for more. Umbridge had been granted (read: bullied her way into) a seat at the staff table. I made sure to sit far away from her for obvious reasons. She was left at one end of the table, practically hanging off it to eat.
Poor Moody… Even that grumpy bastard didn't deserve Umbridge. In fact… Yup, there he was leaving. He met my eyes as he did, seeming to say, "Fix this". Umbridge immediately scooted over to claim the vacated seat, looking almost smug that she'd managed to drive off the person she was talking to.
Ignoring her, I returned to my meal and conversation. It was something of a special occasion. After all, until just a few months ago, Bella wouldn't have been able to join me at the staff table.
Eating a meal with my mother wasn't a rare occurrence but her making a public appearance very much was. Part of the reason for that was the public opinion surrounding her, even in the Castle. Bella preferred to avoid the pity and, strangely enough, looks of awe she received.
To many of the young Witches in the Castle, Bella was a hero and inspiration. Her story had been told to them as children, a cautionary tale for Pure-Blood Witches. And now they saw her in the flesh, having overcome her trials and tribulations to return to her true family. Perhaps understandably, she was the talk of the Castle whenever she made an appearance.
Bella didn't quite know how to deal with the reactions she evoked just by being seen. She seethed in the face of the pity and shied away from the awe. The result was a surprisingly meek Bella when in public. She was nothing like usual and gravitated to me even more than normal (if that was even possible).
That was the other part of the reason she didn't make many public appearances. She just wasn't comfortable with the attention. Then there was the way she reacted to anyone who could reasonably be considered my enemy (*cough* Umbridge *cough*). Still, I thought working through this was good for her so I insisted she join me for dinner tonight. In that aspect, Dumbledore was actually the most helpful in bringing her out of her shell.
"It's wonderful to see you well, Bellatrix dear. I can't tell you how many times I laid awake at night regretting your situation. I-… I should have done more," Dumbledore commiserated.
Bella snorted, "Oh, get over yourself, old man. No one could have done anything. You took care of Atlas for Sirius and I. That's more than enough."
Dumbledore chuckled at the fond name-calling, "As good as it is to hear you don't blame me, I still feel the need to apologize. I'm sorry, Bellatrix. For everything you've experienced."
"I'm not," Bella said firmly. "Without all of it, I wouldn't have Atlas again."
Dumbledore smiled, "There's the Bellatrix I remember…"
Suddenly a small Slytherin First Year Witch came up to the staff table, approaching us and briefly interrupting the conversation, "M-Miss Bellatrix…? M-May I have your autograph? I-I know you don't like signing things anymore… For obvious reasons. B-But I just want something from you to keep and treasure. So you can do whatever to it! Even burn it! I'll just keep the memory in that case!"
Bella looked just as nervous as the little First Year, "W-What?"
She was handed a piece of parchment, opening it to reveal a voided betrothal contract. Bella froze. It was like she'd suddenly been thrown back in time. So many emotions flashed across her face in an instant that I couldn't follow them all.
She shakily read from the contract, "E-Emma Dobbs…? Of House Dobbs…? Is that your name?"
The Little Witch - Emma Dobbs - nodded, "It is, Miss Bellatrix."
"And I see it's already been rendered null and void…" Bella's voice steadied slightly and she received another nod from Emma. "Well, then I suppose the only thing to do is get rid of this rubbish."
The contract in her hands went up in flames and the tension in Bella's shoulders relaxed. Little Emma beamed a smile so bright it could have blinded someone. Bella returned the smile with her own, one full of catharsis. I couldn't help but smile as well on the sidelines, sharing it with Dumbledore as Bella healed just a bit more.
It was a pleasant moment and so, of course, Umbridge had to ruin it by standing to make a sudden announcement.
She tapped her glass with her fork, clearing her throat to attract all the attention she could, "Hem-hem! I, the Triwizard High Overseer, have something to put forth! A historic wrong has gone unrighted at Hogwarts this year. And now, I shall be putting it to rest."
"This ought to be good…" I mumbled to myself.
Umbridge continued, "Heir Atlas Black has been working at Hogwarts as an Assistant Professor. He is also aiding the fourth Triwizard champion, Heather Potter. This injustice obviously cannot stand!"
Already, her announcement was causing chatter and protests from the students and staff but Umbridge continued on like a bull (frog), "The tournament's rules clearly state that champions may not receive any assistance from their school's staff. Atlas Black is blatantly flying in the face of that rule and seems to think it simply does not apply to him! Heather Potter is not much better! Either that assistance stops or I will see Heir Black removed as a Hogwarts Professor!"
Silence fell over the Great Hall as her words set in. No one knew quite how to react. Umbridge looked oh-so smug. Like she was sure she'd won. I couldn't help myself. I started to chuckle. My chuckles evolved into full-blown laughter until I was just about laughing in Umbridge's face.
Furious at the disrespect and confused by my cheek at the same time, she snapped, "Is something funny, Black?!"
"Okay, let's assume for a moment that your assertions are correct - they aren't but I'll get to that in a second. Did you really think everyone here would just accept you at your word and cede to your demands? Including the staff? Including Dumbledore, the Headmaster of this school and master of the Castle you currently stand in?"
Umbridge fumed, glaring at me impotently as I continued, "And then there's the fact that you're just wrong. Heather isn't the Hogwarts champion. That would be Cedric Diggory. Heather technically isn't competing for any real school. It's well within reason for me to offer her my assistance because of that fact."
"I don't know what you think you're playing at, Black, but Heather Potter is clearly a Hogwarts student! Thus she must be a Hogwarts champion!" Umbridge declared.
"Oh? So you're just going to ignore the actual Hogwarts champion Cedric Diggory? He was chosen first, after all. You're not going to make many friends among Hufflepuff with that reasoning.
"Then you have to take into account the perspectives of our illustrious guests. Nothing in the tournament rules says that a school may field more than one champion. Seems a bit unfair to declare otherwise after two-thirds of the tournament has passed. Would you have the other schools draw another champion each to make things even?"
"How are they relevant?" Umbridge sneered. "We are talking about you and Heather Potter and how you're cheating this historic event."
I tutted condescendingly, "Tsk tsk~ if you say so… Just seems like that's where the real injustice lies here, is all."
"Now, listen here, boy! I am the Undersecretary for the Minister of Magic! I am the High Overseer! I decide what fair is-… Eeeeeek!"
"Shut up," Bella said with a voice full of calm, dark menace. "A creature like… you… doesn't get to talk to my Atlas that way. You're not going to win here. Not in the least because I will personally murder you if you do. No one will stop me. Everyone here will just watch. Investigators won't even have to search for witnesses. And they'll still never find your body…"
Having stood by while Umbridge made her latest attempt to see me disgraced and thrown out of the Castle, Bella was furious. Perhaps that wasn't a strong enough word for her current state. Bella was completely and utterly pissed.
And so, when Umbridge started raging, Bella couldn't make herself stand idly by anymore. With a slashing twist of her wand, she upended the toad. Umbridge hung upside down in the air, held in the air at one ankle by Bella's spell. Luckily, her thick pink skirt was tight enough that it didn't flip upwards and treat everyone to an unfortunate view.
She squirmed and panicked as Bella threatened her. Blood rushed to her head, driving her frantic squeaks and squeals higher and higher. Bella was dangerously calm the whole while. Her wand was steady and even without her visceral threat, Umbridge seemed on the verge of passing out in fear.
Eventually, Umbridge fell still. She panted heavily, her eyes quite literally rolling in their sockets. With a small sneer of disgust, Bella flicked her wrist. Umbridge was tossed away like so much rubbish.
Madam Pomfrey almost begrudgingly moved to check on her but Dumbledore caught her eye and stopped her with a slight shake of his head. Personally, I thought Bella went easy on her. Not even a single curse or open wound. It was a marvelous show of restraint from my mother.
I squeezed her hand to show how proud of that restraint I was and to help calm her motherly anger while Dumbledore addressed what just happened.
"I feel I must say that Madam Umbridge's opinions and views are her own. The other school Heads and I have generally agreed that Heather Potter cannot be a Hogwarts champion. She's representing a fourth mystery school in the tournament. Mystery Inc., if I remember the shorthand we decided on. Thus there is no undue collusion around Professor Black aiding her.
"It should also be noted that Hogwarts is firmly and primarily behind Cedric Diggory. Miss Potter is still a treasured student of this school but since she's representing another school, she may well be considered a guest much like her contemporary champions.
"Now, please, let us put these… theatrics behind us and finish our lovely meal. I'm sure the Madam Undersecretary shall be scraping herself off the floor soon enough. In the meantime, feel free to ignore her. Business as usual, yes?"
IIIII
Did… Did Umbridge finally learn when to quit…? She wasn't hounding me today. And with the events of this week, that fact was concerning. Quite concerning, actually. And I couldn't shake the feeling that she was doing something reprehensible. That she was trying some new method to get at me.
Eventually, the feeling grew too much for me to continue ignoring it. I excused myself from the class I was currently assisting with - Charms with the Sixth-Year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws - and went looking for her. The fact that Cedric was missing from that class didn't go unnoticed either. While technically possibly due to the privileges granted to him as champion, it was unlike him.
I began searching the Castle, still unable to shake my dreadful premonition. The feeling only grew as I cleared every room I looked inside without finding either of them. Had I accidentally directed Umbridge's attention at Cedric the other night by pointing out that he was the real Hogwarts champion? Eventually, my worry came to the point that I called a House Elf to help me find Cedric at the very least. Almost immediately, I wished I'd done so sooner.
"Mr. Ceddy Diggy is with Missy Toady in Prefects' Bath. She is with knife and quill and contract! Trying to make Mr. Ceddy sign in blood!"
Shit… The idea of Umbridge abducting Cedric to the bath of all places was bad enough. What they actually seemed to be doing was somehow worse.
I was running before the House Elf even finished talking. Ground was eaten beneath my feet by long strides. I'm sure I was breaking every Muggle world record for sprinting and I was barely breathing heavily. Which just meant I could go faster…
Putting on a bit more speed, the Castle seemed to help me navigate its halls. When I came to the Grand Stairway, all of the stairs were already arrayed in the most convenient pattern. I paid it no mind as I took stairs two at a time up to the Fifth Floor.
Skidding to a stop in front of the Prefects' Bath, I shouted out the staff version of the password. As it swung open, I caught the tail end of what was undoubtedly only one of Umbridge's threats and torture.
"-You will sign, boy. Give up your position and magic freely and I won't see your entire family ruined. Your father is the Head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. If you don't sign, I will make sure he can't find a job as a Knocktern Alley gigolo!"
Right, I'd already heard more than enough. A wandless stunner blasted out of my hand as I invaded the room. Umbridge was caught completely off guard and sent quite literally skipping across the water of the bath until she rolled onto the floor on the other side.
"Thank Merlin you showed, Professor Atlas!" Cedric exclaimed in relief. "She was trying to make me sign something that said I forfeit the tournament. And then with me gone, she'd insist Heather was the only one who could be the Hogwarts champion."
"Just Atlas, Cedric. I think you've earned at least that much after all of this," I said absently, undoing the ropes that kept him from fleeing.
He rubbed his wrists as the tension was let off, still in shock, "S-She… was trying to take my magic…"
I put a hand on his shoulder, "I know. But she didn't succeed. And I'll personally make sure she can never do something like this again."
I walked over to Umbridge's stunned form and reached down. Grabbing her by the ankle, I unceremoniously dragged her back around the bath and out the door. I made sure the trip wasn't comfortable. Not like she would mind a few bumps on the head after I was done with her.
"What are you going to do?" Cedric asked as he caught up to me.
"You'll see…"
Cedric looked wary of my non-answer but considering what just happened, he didn't have much sympathy for Umbridge. I dragged her along the stone floor of the Castle until we reached the Grand Stairway. Unfortunately, I had to change her method of transportation there. Her insensate body would have brained itself if I dragged it down Hogwarts' many many stairs. And I needed her alive for just a little while longer.
We passed an occupied classroom with an open door on our trek down the Castle. The commotion of me dragging Umbridge along behind me attracted the attention of the students inside. Purely by coincidence, classes were being dismissed at that time as well. Soon enough, there was a line of students trailing behind us like I was the Pied Piper.
I could hear the chatter and speculation behind me. I ignored it. Cedric didn't do as well with that task but he stuck next to me and didn't answer any questions. The staff joined my precession, asking what was going on. Still, I stayed quiet.
Tension built each time I didn't answer. Professor McGonagall looked about ready to hex me. Everyone was holding their breath, waiting to see what I would do.
When I reached the Castle's main courtyard, I chucked Umbridge's body in front of me, letting her land in a heap. Of course, that was when Dumbledore arrived, looking more resigned than anything else.
"Atlas?" He asked without asking.
"She was torturing Cedric. Wanted to squib him by making him forfeit the tournament and letting the Goblet take his magic," I answered coldly.
Gasps rang out through the crowd and Dumbledore just nodded sadly, "And what do you intend to do?"
"Make sure she can never hurt a student again. Or anyone else."
With that, Dumbledore took a step back, wordlessly giving me approval to handle the situation as I saw fit. I spared Cedric a glance. He still looked like he couldn't believe the situation he'd found himself in. And the way he was still rubbing at the rope marks on his wrists cemented my decision.
I revived Umbridge. She stirred slowly and groggily, barely looking around, "W-Wha-…?"
"Umbridge. Toad," Silence fell over the courtyard as I spoke. "I haven't been able to stand you since you set foot in this castle. No, I haven't been able to stand you since you tried to railroad me at my trial. But what you did today went so far over the line that I'm forced to do something permanent about you. Actually, thank you for finally giving me an excuse."
Umbridge was already on the defensive without even being accused of anything, "Lies! Lies and slander! I didn't do anything! And if I did it was entirely deserved and appropriate! I wield the authority of the Minister of Magic! You think you can censure me, boy!? I won't just see you removed! I'll see you in Azkaban! Have fun with a Dementor like both your father and mother, Black!"
Eventually, I just talked right over her, "Targeting the students is inexcusable. Hell, targeting Heather was already enough for me to consider killing you. But you dragged Cedric - an innocent bystander - into this feud against me. Do you know how much damage you've done in a single week? No, it doesn't even matter…
"Dolores Umbridge. I challenge you to a duel."
Umbridge paled, "I-I refuse!"
I shook my head, "This is happening either way. I'm just hoping to give you a chance to fight back."
She looked around for any semblance of help, eventually settling on Dumbledore. As she got on her knees to beg, he just turned away and whistled poorly.
"T-The Minister won't accept this!" Umbridge tried one last avenue of escape.
"And the public won't accept that you tried to squib a respected Pure-Blood Heir. That you tried to drag an upstanding young man into your petty machinations. Light or Dark, it won't matter once that little bit of information comes out. If anything, I'll be hailed as a hero."
An entire masterpiece played out across Umbridge's face, painted in emotion and expression. Her mouth dropped wide open with shock and realization. Her face paled to an unhealthy degree. Jaw flapping, no words came out. Eventually, her eyes focused back on me with hate like Fiendfire burning in her pupils.
"They won't if I kill you first! Avada Kedavra!"
I just about sighed at the screams that followed the beam of green spell-light. Though to be fair to them, I doubt any of the students had seen this particular spell in action. I hadn't either technically, but I knew how to handle it.
A wall of stone shot up in front of me. Fueled by her hate, Umbridge's Killing Curse shattered the wall. Pieces flew, bouncing harmlessly off a Dueling Shield that someone - Dumbledore or Flitwick if I had to guess - erected around between us and the students.
Umbridge let out a blood-curdling shriek, "I'll kill you, Black!"
Another Killing Curse met a similar fate against transfigured defenses. Then another. Umbridge put her entire being into the hateful curses. I could almost feel her soul blackening with each one. It might have been the ugliest thing I've ever seen.
The Killing Curse must have been a taxing spell. Soon enough, Umbridge was completely drained. Her whole arm shook with strain. Her chest shuddered with each breath. Something behind her caught my attention. Luna stood on the other side of the Dueling Shield, holding up two very specific items she'd been trying to work into my life recently.
"S-Surely, we can talk about this…?" Umbridge panted.
Then her face twisted into a loathsome sneer as she disregarded her words for a surprise attack, "Crucio!"
I shook my head in exasperation. Half because I was expecting something like that from Umbridge and half because of Luna's insistence that I use the outfit and weapon we'd found in the Black Vault. Still… why not?
I gave Luna a minute nod while Umbridge cast. She stuck the items through the Dueling Shield and I summoned them from her hands. A pitch-black cowboy hat flew into the curse's path, recoiling and rendering it harmless before falling into my hand much like the other item.
Twirling the hat in my hand, I settled it onto my head. Looking out from under the brim, I checked the chamber of the Black Steel Dueling Revolver. It hummed in my hand, excitable and eager to be used for its true purpose.
Satisfied, I looked back up at Umbridge, "There's nothing to talk about. You've brought this entirely upon yourself. Any sympathy or mercy I may have had is long gone now."
Umbridge was understandably confused by my additions to the duel. I imagine she wasn't the only one. Suddenly dressing as a cowboy wasn't exactly normal, even for Wizarding society. But it was striking. People (not Umbridge for obvious reasons) would remember this. They'd talk. And hopefully, the statement I was making here - as a Black Rider of Death and Retribution - would keep others from trying to repeat Umbridge's crimes and mistakes.
Also, it would make Luna happy. After this week around Umbridge, I needed something simple like that to settle my soul.
"Consider this a threat and debt repaid," I said, leveling the firearm at Umbridge's center of mass.
Umbridge scoffed, trying hard to seem unafraid, "A-A gun? I knew you were a poor excuse for a Pure-Blood. Now, everyone can see what I see. Can't even use a real Wizard's weapon, B-Black?"
"This is a real Wizard's weapon," I replied, my voice flat and unbothered. "Fireball."
A specific Rune set within the Dueling Revolver activated, drawing magic from my core. I fed it easily. The barrel glowed molten-metal red. As if it was suddenly containing a small sun.
My finger squeezed, taking more effort than I expected. The hammer cocked and shot back forward. Firing pin struck primer. Powder ignited inside the casing. The weapon bucked in my hand. Inside, sparks turned into force. Contained, the force built for fractions of a second before exploding forward. A mighty crack split the air.
Blink and you'd miss it. A bullet shot from the barrel, invisible to the naked eye. The fireball that followed wasn't so invisible. It was stuck to the back of the bullet, looking so much like the initial detonation within the chamber turned up to 11. Any misconceptions that this wasn't a Wizarding weapon were immediately put to rest.
Umbridge's eyes widened as the barrel flared. All she must have seen was a flash of light. The next instant, she was shot through and overtaken completely by the fireball that followed. Another instant later and nothing was left of her. Not even a scorch mark on the courtyard's cobblestone where she just stood.
Ears rang, none more so than mine. Spots were blinked out of vision. Silence reigned. Shock faded slowly. I lowered the Dueling Revolver. It was practically jumping in my hand.
Even as the Dueling Shield was lowered as well, normalcy never returned. Perhaps it never would. Even the reveal at my trial paled in comparison to this duel and the statement I'd made here.
A turning point. An axle of change. Some things just couldn't be forgotten. Looking around, I saw every emotion on the faces of my students. Awe. Fear. Disbelief. Regret. Vindication. Whatever came of this…
"I told you the hat would look dashing," Luna said, skipping up to me and pulling me from my melancholy thoughts.
Bubbly as ever, Luna broke the spell, "It… certainly made me feel right intimidating."
"And look! No clean-up required!"
I snorted despite myself, "I suppose you're right."
Septima was next, wrapping me in a tight hug, "You really need to learn not to play with your food, Atlas."
Luna stealthily took the Revolver from me so I could hug her back, "I'll try and do better in the future, dear."
She hummed, burying her head in my shoulder. This… This was exactly what I needed after all of that. It was almost as good as the Grind. Speaking of which…
New Title Unlocked: Black Rider (Vanquisher of Toads) 2 to Attack, 3 to Defense, 3 to Dueling
Attack 452=47/100, Defense 433=46/100, Dueling 513=54
Well… that was certainly fitting. The first Title I'd earned as well. That'd put the fear into Fudge. It was also a good… *sigh* supervillain name… Luna was corrupting me. Somehow, I wouldn't have it any other way.
33: The Hunt for Imposter Moody
AN: This chapter is the beginning of the end. Well, not really. There's still ~70k words and 7-8 chapters after this. But this is what I'd call the start of the final arc.
As of posting this chapter, I'm actually writing the final chapter I have planned. By this time next week, I should be moving on to other projects. There's a high possibility for a sequel to this story but I'm decided and determined to actually end 'Book 1' and take a break before even beginning to plan that. The final word count for this story is looking to be ~270k words. I think that's more than enough for 'Book 1'.
Thank you to everyone for supporting this story and me by extension. It's been a whole-ass journey and I've enjoyed most of it. I struggled with burnout around the mid-point of this story but pushed through it. I'll be glad to work on something else though.
Updates will continue at the same pace (2 a week on Thursday and Saturday) for the next… 4 weeks/1 month. I hope you all stick around til the end. If you want to read the end early, check out my .
IIIII
The Ministry had never been in such a state. Recent events had thrown it past chaos and into pandemonium. Perhaps in another timeline, this would have been an ordinary day. Just another day of bureaucracy and nine-to-fives. This was not that timeline.
The physical mess was typical. A government couldn't be run without its fair share of spilled papers and empty cups of tea and coffee. Owls flew through charmed shoots to the outside world, depositing their loads of mail, and beating hasty retreats. Paper airplanes flocked like starlings, flitting here and there in impossible ways.
A still-smoking pipe lay in a pile of forms and files until embers fell onto flammable material. The fire it started went ignored for minutes. On any other day, the flames would have been handled in seconds. Today, they somehow took a backseat to everything else happening at once.
Ministry employees hid beneath their desks. The reason why was obvious.
"Unacceptable!"
"That poor Diggory boy…"
"I'll have the toad's head!"
"How could you let her anywhere near our children?!"
"Personal grudge or not, there's a line you just don't cross!"
"Did you have anything to do with this, Fudge?! Could you not keep your attack dog on its leash?!"
Enough Howlers to shake the building's magical foundation raged and roared above their heads. Even the mail wards of the Ministry had collapsed under the onslaught of letters. Though directed at the Minister specifically, the Howlers spilled out into the rest of the Ministry.
Huddled away as they were, more than one Ministry employee rethought their jobs. The duller ones just didn't want to be yelled at like this again…
The smarter ones could see the writing on the wall. This could lead to revolution. And if it did, it wouldn't do to be on the losing side. Some formulated plans for severing ties. Others decided they would stay their hands until something concrete happened. The winners of a coup would need familiar hands to run the bureaucracy, after all.
In the chaos, more than a few desks were graced with letters from Hogwarts. Letters of warning concealed behind the expected words. Letters that confirmed those suspicions of revolution. Something was indeed brewing in the shadows. And it was beginning to spill out of Hogwarts.
The youth would still lead the charge. What was youth for other than planning political upheaval and revolution? But now some of the adults would know not to fight the coming storm. They could conveniently surrender to their own children, riding the wave that had already started. And they knew better than to talk or tattle. Nothing had been said outright, nothing confirmed directly. None were willing to go against their families for Cornelius Fudge of all people.
Paradoxically, these letters, this revolution, bought Fudge more time. Events were still in the works. The time wasn't quite right yet. But the recent attack and 'untimely' death of one Dolores Umbridge was a quiet boon for recruitment.
That effect wasn't clearer anywhere but in the Ministry's Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. The employees there worked with and directly under Amos Diggory. They knew him. They knew his son. Most had even met Cedric Diggory - the would-be victim of Umbridge's attack.
Amos Diggory himself was not having a good day. It started last night with the letters from Hogwarts and his son. His heart froze as he read about what his son had gone through, the threats and torture he endured, and the justice he was given. If he was on the fence about the Black Heir, his mind was made up in an instant.
Still, his heart ached for Cedric. Throughout that morning and most of the afternoon, he'd been distracted and forlorn. Even as the chaos in the Ministry began, he barely looked up from his desk. His coworkers pieced together the story, half from the letters some of them had received the night before from their own children and half from the biting, sarcastic non-Howler letter of complaint that deemed Umbridge a 'creature that fell under their authority'.
By mid-afternoon, every single one of them was willing to duel for Cedric Diggory. An entire department became his most steadfast supporter. If Umbridge was still alive, they would have started a crusade. All without verbally acknowledging the hints some of them received about what was coming in the next few months. Their allegiances were clear though. They stood with their children. They stood with Cedric Diggory.
Amelia Bones was having one Hell of a day as well. It seemed as if she was the only one running around trying to put out fires. What else was new?
She had anticipated some of today's chaos. She was one of the first outside of Hogwarts to know about the duel and the events leading up to it. Her investigation started before the students even finished writing their letters home.
She wasn't given the veiled warnings of revolution by her niece that others were. Perhaps that was fortunate though. She had enough on her plate as it was. And Susan wouldn't make her aunt choose between her and her job. Not yet at least. With the part Susan was playing in the revolution's plans, it was inevitable.
"Robbards!" Amelia barked. "Get a team together and neutralize these Howlers!"
"On it, boss."
"Shacklebolt! You're on fire duty and wrangling these damned airplanes. I think it's about time I pay our 'illustrious' Minister a visit. Scrimgeour, you're in charge while I'm gone."
Amelia walked quickly through the Ministry, dodging charmed airplanes that had grown minds of their own. She unceremoniously blasted any Howler that crossed her path. She stormed straight through the lines of people clamoring in the atrium.
Fudge clearly had a lot to answer for. And somehow, Amelia still wasn't confident that he would be removed. Impeached, perhaps. Censured and sanctioned, almost definitely. But the Ministry of Magic tended to do change very poorly. If Fudge could salvage even a single scrap of dignity and plausible deniability, he would be staying in his office for a little while longer.
"Cornelius Fucking Fudge!" Amelia bellowed, releasing all her pent-up frustration as she barged into the Minister's office and paid no mind to the frightened secretary trying to protest.
Silence greeted her back. The office was empty, completely still, and lacking the focus of Amelia's current rage. Amelia stopped in her tracks, fuming at thin air.
The pretty young Witch who Cornelius had as his secretary meekly stepped up behind Amelia, "H-He's… The Minister is out at the moment for a scheduled interview with the press… M-M-May I take a message, M-Madam Bones?"
Amelia paused for a moment, conflicted until the sight of the empty office and a distant Howler made her eye twitch, making up her mind, "… Fuck it. I'm the Director of the Morgana-damned DMLE! You're damn right you can take a message! Ready?
At the nervous nod, she continued, "Cornelius, consider yourself on probation! As of this moment, you're under investigation by me and my department! I'm going to make your last few months as Minister Hell! Wanker…"
"D-Did… you want me to include that last bit?"
"Yes, that's the most important part," Amelia grinned despite her anger. "Now, where does that wanker keep his good liquor? Hey, girlie? How do you wanna get drunk with the Director of the DMLE on your wanker boss' dime?"
A few floors away, Cornelius Fudge stopped what he was saying mid-sentence and sniffed the air, "And that's why-… Someone's stealing my good brandy!"
The couple of reporters he'd allowed to interview him stifled their laughter. One of them stepped up to get the interview back on track, "Minister? You were saying how you had nothing to do with yesterday's events?"
"Ah… Yes! Why, it's a tragedy, isn't it? That horrible, horrible woman… You think you know somebody… Well, good riddance. Personally, I'm glad she's dead."
"Minister, sir? That doesn't actually answer the question of your involvement. According to my sources, the Undersecretary was acting on your behalf within Hogwarts."
"Hogwash! She was just claiming that to get away with her atrocities! It's a baseless claim! I could never allow our children to come to harm! That's why I took control of the Triwizard Tournament in the first place! To avoid deaths and situations just like this. The fact that my Undersecretary acted with her own agenda can't reasonably be considered my fault, can it?!"
"So… you don't have a personal grudge against Heir Black because he threatened you at his trial?"
Fudge chuckled somewhat awkwardly but recovered, "That was just an unfortunate misunderstanding. I have nothing against Atlas Black. I think he's a wonderful young man, leading our children into the next generation! Perhaps we got off on the wrong foot but there's no bad blood to be found from me."
Another reporter piped in, "If that's true, Minister, would you like to give your opinion on the widowed Lady Malfoy's recent pushes for Werewolf Rights and political accountability?"
Internally, Fudge fumed at the reminder. Outwardly, he laughed, "Hahahaha, of course! I imagine her husband dying under such unfortunate circumstances has changed her mind on quite a few things. Lucius' death certainly affected me greatly. I just hope she doesn't completely forget and forgo tradition."
"Do you think these recent pushes are a way for Lady Malfoy to get back at her late husband for being a Death Eater?"
"I could not possibly speak for a lady," Fudge deflected.
"Do you anticipate seeing consequences for your late Undersecretary's actions?"
"I should hope not. Surely people will see the truth. That I had nothing to do with the actions that led her directly to an early grave. She acted entirely on her own. I simply trusted the wrong person. I'm a victim here too."
Autoquills quickly scribbled down his quote and Fudge felt the need to end the interview, "I think that's all the time we have today. Please, direct any other questions you have to my office. I shall see about answering them in a timely and appropriate manner."
He saw the reporters off, already imagining the headlines they would write. He'd done all he could to distance himself from Umbridge. So long as the public accepted his excuses, he may just see himself through this mess. That damned hateful bitch… This was all her fault.
Fudge sighed. He needed a drink. When he returned to his office to have that drink, he was met with the single worst development of the past day. Amelia Bones and his secretary - of all people - had raided his good drink. Fudge was left sober and still fuming, unable to even drown his worries and reward himself for his masterful damage control.
IIIII
"Back on my case again, eh, Tonks?" I greeted Tonks with a smile and a rhetorical question.
She grinned back at me, "Ah, you know, Bones seems to think I like you for some reason."
"You don't?"
Tonks smirked, eying me up and down, "I could take ya or leave ya."
"Is that any way to talk to the person who brought you and your mother back into the family?" I teased.
"I suppose it isn't," Tonks said, pretending to consider something. "Have I thanked you for that yet? It really does mean a lot to Mum. If we weren't family now, I'd thank you… ~more personally~"
Her attempt at teasing back fell far short of the mark. I scoffed, "As if that's ever stopped a Black."
That made Tonks stop. Her hair flashed an even brighter color of pink. Her cheeks colored slightly as well. She looked me up and down again. Her smirk slowly returned in full force. She met my eyes. Sparks flew. The air between us was suddenly thick with tension.
"I guess you're right…" Then she snorted and the sexual tension broke as if it was never there, just leaving hints of something more for the future. "Just save it for when I'm off the clock, yeah, Lil' Cuz?"
I suppressed a shiver at the unspoken promise, "… So you're here on Auror business?"
"Yep," Tonks confirmed, popping the 'p'. "Official investigation into the untimely death of Undersecretary Umbridge. Not that it's really needed. Bones is pretty sure she's already got all the facts. But I've still gotta ask you a few questions for the records."
I nodded, "Sure, go ahead. I certainly trust you more than Dawlish or any other Auror."
"We figured as much. And don't worry. Officially, this is just so we have your version of events. Cool?"
"Ready for you to start whenever."
Tonks set up an Autoquill and went through the standard procedures. She stated her name and mine for the record. She mentioned the case number and began asking me questions.
"Right, where do you reckon this whole thing started?"
I snorted, "Started? My trial? My birth? Umbridge seemed to have a very personal grudge against me and mine. But I doubt you need that whole story. So I'll start with Umbridge coming to Hogwarts…"
I recapped the events of the past week for Tonks. She stopped me here and there to ask questions but mostly let me talk. From Umbridge bullying Heather and me putting the fear of god into her. To Umbridge's embarrassing last dinner in the Castle and how I was worried I'd accidentally directed her at Cedric. Then I got to the meat of the situation.
"-So I got worried when Cedric didn't show up to class like usual. I eventually went looking for him and found that Umbridge had abducted him. She was torturing him with a knife that caused pain but left no marks, threatening him and his father, and trying to force him to sign a contract with a Blood Quill.
"I put a stop to all of that, stunning Umbridge. Then I dragged her out in front of the Castle. I couldn't let her get away with targeting the students like that. Something had to be done. I challenged her to a duel.
"She didn't even officially accept it before she was throwing curses at me without warning. During the duel, she only used Unforgivables. It was obvious she'd completely disregarded mercy. I felt the same. The Killing Curse was just the absolute final straw. So I acted accordingly…"
"There have been reports that you didn't use a wand. What weapon did you use instead?" Tonks asked.
"A family heirloom. It's a magically modified Dueling Revolver. I wasn't taking any chances," I answered honestly.
"And using this revolver, you put an end to the duel by killing Undersecretary Umbridge?"
"I can't answer that question with complete certainty."
Tonks blinked, "You can't?"
I hid a smirk, "No, I can't. There were no remains, after all. It was all very chaotic. First time I used the revolver. I'm relatively sure I hit her but who knows? She might have apparated out before the bullet hit."
"Right… I'll just put her down as 'Probably Dead'… And that should be all of that taken care of. I'll ask you to make yourself available for possible future questioning but that should be it for now. Are you fine with ending the interview there?"
I nodded, "I've said everything I needed to say."
"Cool," Tonks deactivated the Autoquill. "Now, off the record… You killed the bitch dead, yeah?"
I let my smirk show on my face, "Oh yeah. No way she could have apparated out of there. I doubt she even knew what hit her."
"Thank Merlin. I hated that toad. But why dance around the subject like that?" Tonks smiled but still asked.
"Plausible deniability in case someone tries to take me to trial again. It raises a shadow of doubt as to whether Umbridge is even dead or just hiding from her crimes. I've done the trial bit, not eager to do it again," I said, shrugging.
Tonks hummed to hide her laughter, "Heh-Hmm… I'll just keep that little bit out of my report."
"Thanks for that, Tonks."
"Hey, I gotta look out for my Lil' Cuz, right?"
"Even when the cousin kills someone?"
"Especially then. I'd barely call the toad a 'someone' though."
I chuckled at the morbid nature of her joke, "You won't find any disagreement from me there. Honestly, it's a miracle Umbridge could even pass for Human."
Tonks snorted, "Yeah, I think Weird Sisters wrote a song about her. 'Toad-Shaped Witches'? It's a bit on the nose, innit?"
"Err, I'm… not really familiar with their music. I know they performed at the Yule Ball but I didn't really pay them any mind," I said awkwardly.
"No way!" Tonks gaped at me like I'd just said the sky was red. "They're essential! I've gotta introduce you. Maybe take you to a concert or two. Even Witches and Wizards mosh."
"I didn't realize they were so culturally important."
"Are you kidding?! They're like Queen or The Beatles for the Wizarding world. They've been around forever. Not that they're the only band of note. Wands N'Roses. The Aurors. Red Hot Puffapods. Nirvana is new and a bit underground right now but they crossover with the Muggle world and they're one of my favorites. Did you know David Bowie's a Half-Blood? Anyway, I'm getting off track. The Weird Sisters are classic and as good a place as any to start listening to Wizarding music."
I grinned at her excitement, "Is this your way of asking me on a date? Or is this how you're going to 'personally' thank me?"
Tonks sputtered for a moment, her hair shifting colors as she was caught off-guard by the mention of a date, "I-I-… W-Wha-! Hey! You'd be lucky if I took you for a date, you git."
I made a show of checking her out, "Yes. Yes, I would."
Getting some of her confidence back, Tonks leaned forward, shifting her form so her breasts grew a couple of cup sizes, "Damn straight. You couldn't handle all of this, mate."
Leaning in as well, her shapeshifted chest pressed against mine and my face and lips came within inches of hers, "Is that a challenge~? Or a promise~?"
Her gaze flitted across my face. Something between a whimper, a laugh, and a moan tried to escape her lips. Her irises lit up, shifting from brown to pink and back again. Then my breath grazed her lips. She all but froze there.
"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhh…"
It seemed Tonks was pretty terrible at being teased back. She could dish it out but not take it. Still, with a smirk, I took pity on her. I pulled back slightly, leaving Tonks stunned and leaning into empty air.
"So anything else while you're here? We can set up a date at any time, Tonks."
Tonks snapped out of her daze, undoubtedly using her magic to suppress a blush, "Don't get cocky, Mister! I'll get you back for that!"
"I'm sure you will. I'm looking forward to it," I calmly agreed.
"Ugh, this isn't fair… You're supposed to be the younger, less experienced, easy-to-tease one here…" Tonks grumbled.
"Yeah, doesn't work so well when I have seven lovers, does it?" I chuckled.
Tonks grumbled for a few more moments before seeming to remember something and instantly changing the subject, "Hey, do you remember when Dumbledore talked to us about Mad-Eye?"
"Who?"
"Moody. That's his old Auror nickname."
"Ah, yeah, go on."
"I think I'm starting to get what he was on about. Mad-Eye's different. He didn't even try to curse me in the back and shout 'Constant Vigilance!' when I was coming in today," Tonks shuddered as if there was something viscerally wrong with that statement.
I blinked, "And…?"
"And?! He always does that! Takes every opportunity to make sure I haven't forgotten his training! Something's wrong. And I need to find out what. Will you help me?"
My face scrunched up slightly, "What is this, a side quest?"
New Quest Unlocked: The Hunt for Moody Condition(s): First, Dumbledore. Now, Tonks? Alastor Moody isn't displaying Constant Vigilance?! Is this the beginning of the end?! Figure out what's happened to Mad-Eye Moody!
Rewards: 5 to Awareness, Opportunity (use it wisely)
Of course… And something about that quest description jumped out at me. 'The beginning of the end'? For some reason, I had a feeling the System wasn't just making a joke. The only 'end' I could think of was Voldemort's… The fact that the System prompted me with a quest made me think Moody had some path to the Dark Lord's final demise.
I sighed, "Alright… How are we going to do this?"
Tonks grinned, "Constant Vigilance!"
IIIII
"He hasn't cursed me once!" Tonks complained in a hushed whisper. "I've been here for an entire day now! And I know he's seen me multiple times. It's almost as if he's completely forgotten about me!"
"Maybe he's just busy…" I wasn't convincing myself with that, much less Tonks.
"Really?" Tonks said with a look as Moody walked past us in the hallway. "That doesn't even begin to explain the rest of it…"
Moody still didn't acknowledge her. He just walked on by. It was just a bit weird for someone who had trained Tonks only a year or two ago. I was beginning to understand what Tonks meant when she said he was acting off.
My side quest had quickly turned into a coven-wide activity. Luna and Heather wouldn't let shenanigans like this pass them by. Septima and Hermione were supportive and inquisitive as always. Bella barely needed to be mentioned. She would follow me into Hell. Gabrielle and Aurora saw this as one big group bonding session and a chance to lay back and relax after the events of last week in equal measure.
We had spent most of the day trying to figure this little problem out. I excused myself from most of my classes for the day, citing Auror's business. Which technically wasn't a lie. There was proper investigation work being done here.
I casually inserted myself into one of Moody's classes. Tonks tagged along as my 'guard'. That was… an experience… as always.
Moody's method of teaching was intense. It had been since the start of the year. He focused almost entirely on the practical aspect of Defense. That made him relatively popular despite his harsh eccentricities. In his class, you were more likely to have to use a counter-curse on yourself than read it from a book.
But nothing he taught was objectionable, per se. Not to the best of my knowledge, at least. I'd heard rumors of the Unforgivables in his first lessons but I didn't quite believe them. And I wasn't there to say either way. Perhaps he just gave an extensive lecture on them. Tonks supported that idea, saying Moody hated the Unforgivables as much as he hated Dark Wizards and would never be caught dead using them.
At a coven (plus Tonks) gathering before dinner, Heather was the one who backed up those rumors, "Oh, yeah, that happened. Almost forgot about it. That was kinda fucked up, huh?"
"What?!" Tonks gaped at her, utterly horrified by what she was hearing. "All three of them?! Even the Imperius?"
"Yeah, he put a couple of students under it."
"Merlin and Morgana!" Tonks exclaimed. "He hates that curse the most! Students?! How is he not in Azkaban right now?! Did no one complain?!"
Heather blinked, "Now that you mention it… I don't think anyone did…"
"There's no way… Moody would never-… T-That can't be him. Even if it is, I have no choice but to bring him in," Tonks sounded like she didn't even believe her words.
The other girls only piled on more evidence that something was wrong as the day went on, pointing out little things they'd noticed throughout the year.
"He is-… How to say?… Wrong," Gabrielle explained. "He does not respond to my inner fire and Allure the way he should. He is dark, icy, empty… Like-… Like father-in-law and Bella. But they are partially healed. Their souls are filling back up. They respond to the Allure. This Moody… he does not. It is like my Allure is bouncing off an empty shell."
"Did Moody spend any time in Azkaban? Or just around Dementors?"
Tonks shook her head, "Not that I know…"
"I can second that observation," Luna said, surprisingly serious. "The magic in his body is strange to look at. Like it's partially concealed by a shell of some kind. I thought it was just the way it interacts with his prosthetics but maybe there's something more there…"
"He has two flasks," Hermione pointed out. "One he drinks from regularly and the other, I rarely see him use."
Septima nodded, "I noticed that as well. He drinks from the rare flask at hour intervals. Almost to the second."
Tonks paled as a worrying picture was painted with anecdotal evidence. Bella's contribution put the final nail in the coffin.
"He reminds me of someone…"
"Someone… other than Mad-Eye…?" Tonks asked hesitantly.
Bella nodded slowly as if trying to remember something, "Moody and I met many times during the war. Every time, I was made to fight him. You'd think he wouldn't all but ignore me now that I'm free and staying in such close proximity."
"Mad-Eye wouldn't attack you for no reason," Tonks weakly defended.
"He really hated me," Bella shook her head. "But that's not what I'm talking about. He doesn't even keep that magical eye of his on me."
"Maybe he's just-…" Tonks' denials crumbled. She couldn't keep trying to convince herself that her mentor Moody was who he said he was.
"Ah!" Bella snapped, interrupting Tonks. "That little flick and the way he chokes up on his wand! That's 100% Barty!"
Silence rang like a bell. The final piece slotted into place.
"So… Imposter Moody?" I offered the only apparent explanation.
"Imposter Moody," Heather agreed.
"Imposter Moody," Hermione and Septima did as well.
"The real Moody has been abducted by Giant Silver-winged Pixies and replaced by a Changeling!" Luna gasped.
"Goodness!" Gabrielle shivered. "To be around an imposter for nearly a year without anyone realizing…"
"Oh, Merlin…" Tonks let out a horrified whisper. "Imposter Moody…"
"Huh, I guess it's a good thing I told the House Elves to slip something into his food then," Aurora said, shrugging nonchalantly.
"You drugged him?! That would never work on… Moody…" Tonks trailed off.
"Imposter Moody," I reminded her.
"Plus this is one of Severus' special potions. It's untraceable. It has to be just in case the Ministry decides to start drug testing Hogwarts," Aurora added with a snort. "Not that they would. Or that they would find a single completely sober staff member here anyway."
Hermione rolled her eyes, "The more I learn about the staff's personal habits, the more I worry about the quality of my education."
Aurora grinned, "Let's see you keep that same opinion after a single day of teaching at Hogwarts. From Severus to the Weasley Twins, even Minerva deserves a way to relax with some specially bred catnip."
"Can we focus here?!" Tonks begged. "My mentor is an imposter! One that managed to fool everyone from me to Dumbledore for over half a year!"
"Ah…" Bella sighed fondly. "Barty always was talented like that. He wanted to go into theater. But then his asshole father found out and accidentally pushed him straight into the Dark Lord's open arms."
"Neat. Yet another thing to blame on Crouch Snr," Heather snarked.
"Is there something we should know?" I asked with a raised eyebrow. "You talk about him like he's an old friend."
Bella scoffed, "Hardly. He's still a sadistic little bastard who will do anything to please the Dark Idiot. He was just one of the nicer ones to me when I was under contract."
"What are we going to do?! We have to rescue Moody! What if he's-… Oh, Merlin! He can't be dead!" Tonks was nearly hyperventilating, unable to reconcile herself with the likely truth of the situation.
I shared a glance with the rest of the coven. Tonks wasn't dealing with this well at all. I knew she was close to Moody but I didn't realize she was this close to him. I stepped up to her and put my hands on her shoulders.
"Tonks. Look at me."
She met my eyes. I saw fear and anger there. She barely knew how to react. She was understandably freaking out. Her mentor had been replaced by a Death Eater. She didn't even know if he was still alive.
"What would Mad-Eye say about your reaction right now?" I asked, trying to help her ground herself.
"H-He'd tell me to get my shit together…" Tonks answered, taking a fortifying breath.
"Sounds like good advice. You'll be no help to him while you're panicking."
A few more deep breaths later, Tonks looked back at me with steel in her eyes, "Right… What now? How are we going to get this imposter bastard?"
"Aurora?" I asked without taking my eyes off Tonks'. "What did you say you slipped Imposter Moody?"
"Oh, just that potion I offered you before the Yule Ball…" Even without looking at her, I could hear Aurora's smirk.
"The one that acts like Ketamine?"
"That's the one."
"And you're confident he won't notice?"
"Positive. I'd bet Severus' reputation on it."
Heather snorted in the background, "As if Snape's reputation holds any weight…"
"I think her point was clear, Heather," Hermione said with exasperation.
Ignoring their little byplay, I addressed Tonks again, "There you have it. Soon enough, Imposter Moody will be drugged to the gills. We'll set up an ambush for him, pump him for information, and rescue the real Moody. If that fails, we'll avenge him."
"I-… I should really bring him in…" Tonks said hesitantly, sticking to her duties as an Auror despite her desire for revenge.
I nodded in respect, "Then we'll do that. No matter who the imposter turns out to be, he'll certainly have committed more than enough crimes to see him in Azkaban for the rest of his life."
Tonks breathed a sigh of relief, "Thanks, Atlas… I almost did something stupid and clumsy and ruined everything."
"Don't worry," I reassured. "Justice will be had."
"Just one more thought occurs…" Tonks said leadingly. "Do we get Dumbledore involved?"
I froze at that idea, "Oh, fuck."
IIIII
Alastor "Imposter" Moody stumbled from his seat at the staff table in the Great Hall. He didn't even notice how unsteady on his feet he was. The prosthetic on one leg seemed to send him forward miles. His real foot moved him inches.
The world around him didn't spin. That would require movement. He was utterly still, even as he walked. He was removed from reality, watching as something piloted his body. A black hole behind him pulled at his soul until he was in the third person.
Every sound was too loud, every smell too quiet. He knew something was different. He couldn't bring himself to care. His body floated from the Great Hall, full of clouds.
The reaction he garnered as he left didn't make it into his magical eye. That device was too busy drifting skyward to watch his surroundings. The same could be said for the several people who got up to follow him as he left.
Atlas, Septima, and Aurora were first. Tonks joined them, not even bothering to shift from her usual form. Heather, Hermione, and Luna followed from the student tables. They made their departure look natural and were joined by Bella and Gabrielle outside the Great Hall, pointing the whole coven in the direction Imposter Moody went.
Already, within the Great Hall, the more perceptive students, staff, and guests had taken notice. They watched as the White Coven had all of its members basically confirmed without a word. And they wondered what the coven was doing. Was there something in the works? Something that involved Alastor Moody?
Then something unusual happened. Albus Dumbledore rose from his seat early. He placated his Deputy Head and simply walked away. He left the Great Hall with a calm, assured pace as if he had all the time in the world. Behind him, chatter and speculation ran rampant through the Great Hall.
Alastor "Imposter" Moody couldn't have known any of this. He walked and stumbled, rolled and skipped all at once. He was ascendant. He was rapturous. He was… high…? That couldn't be right…
He didn't even realize he was being ushered into his quarters. His mind was somewhere else completely. His favorite musical played out in his head. He acted every part at once and still found the time to be every single audience member. Was he dancing and singing?
He was not. Alastor "Imposter" Moody was herded into his room like a cat. At least, that's what the White Coven likened the experience to. Alastor "Imposter" Moody was a leaf on the wind. He was a boat on the currents. He went with the flow, unable to do anything else.
Something was forced down his throat. Alastor "Imposter" Moody swallowed. He was a guest in his own body, not himself in more ways than one. One of those ways was quickly rectified. Something pushed out of his leg and face. Where'd the view of his butt go…? And why wasn't he wobbly anymore…?
"Good Lord, Aurora, how much did you dose him with?" A voice…?
Ah, fans! His adoring public was here to cheer on his marvelous musical performance. The critics would love this! Oh, he couldn't wait to read the reviews!
Just as he opened his mouth to bring Cats - that wonderful Broadway musical! - To life, Hell descended upon Alastor "Imposter" Moody.
He choked on his own breath. Unseen Fiendfire scorched his soul. Empty cold pulled at his being. Tangible pressure did its best to compress him into a tight ball. His muscles gave out. His magic quaked and screamed. His high was robbed from him. The whole world was suddenly all too real. Dangerously so.
He was unceremoniously thrown back into his body to find himself staring into a familiar aged face with eyes that twinkled.
Barty Crouch Jnr couldn't even scream. But oh how he wanted to. He almost didn't recognize Albus "Too Many Names" Dumbledore. He'd never seen Dumbledore like this. No one had. At least, no one who was alive to give their testimony. Even the Dark Lord hadn't lived to see Dumbledore this personally angry at him.
The twinkle in those eyes was usually so friendly - almost teasing. Now, Albus "Too Many Names" Dumbledore wasn't even trying to hide the menace and danger there. The man Barty found himself staring at was the same one who defeated Grindlewald. The only Wizard the Dark Lord feared. The man whose friend Barty had been impersonating. And he was furious.
"Hello, young Barty. Since you were so kind as to join us, I have a question for you. Where is my friend? " Dumbledore asked calmly…
34: Imposter Amongus
The air in the room grew heavier with each breath. Strange lights danced in the corner of my vision. Magic poured off Dumbledore like a flood. Even though he was focused on the imposter, the rest of us were almost swept along with it. Still, Dumbledore's control shined through and we were saved from the worst of the pressure.
Even my first confrontation with Umbridge in the Great Hall couldn't hold a candle to Dumbledore's rage. If I was a storm then, he was a hurricane now. He was a force of nature and he didn't even seem to break a sweat.
Magic and reality itself bent to his will. He was a colossus, a Titan of myth and legend. The weight of his intent spilled over the whole room, coating everything like a heavy quilt. Even averted, I could feel it pressing down on me. The girls must have been struggling to stay upright. I didn't even want to imagine what Barty Jnr was feeling.
This was the difference between Tier 6 Magic and Tier 8. I moved with magic infusing my being. Dumbledore lived and breathed with magic. If I swam through the mystical currents of magic, it was as if Dumbledore was born to them. Another step or two and he would become magic itself.
His soul flexed and vibrations rippled through reality, "Hello, young Barty. Since you were so kind as to join us, I have a question for you. Where is my friend? "
"Holy fuck…" Heather muttered, supporting Hermione against the pressure.
Luna huddled close to me, taking shelter beneath the cover of my magic. Her eyes were screwed closed. Aurora and Septima faired slightly better but did the same. Bella seemed relatively unaffected. Tonks struggled but stood strong. Gabrielle was affected but in the opposite way from the rest of us. She was practically glowing as the plentiful magic in the air fed the Veela fire inside her.
Barty choked and gagged, physically unable to speak through the pressure of Dumbledore's intent. His body froze, going completely stiff. His muscles couldn't even spasm or twitch. The world itself waited for his answer at Dumbledore's command.
His answer came in stuttered, choking gasps, "T-T-T-Tru-nk… !"
Dumbledore smiled genially, fooling no one, "Thank you, Barty. That wasn't so hard, was it? Please, keep that same spirit of cooperation for my companions."
He took a step back and instantly, the weight of the world disappeared. It was like magic. One second, Barty was being crushed. The next, Dumbledore's control reasserted itself with force. Even the sudden absence of pressure seemed to rock Barty though as he gasped for air that wasn't crushing him from the inside out.
"I'll hand him over to you for the moment, Atlas my friend," Dumbledore said as casually as can be.
I glanced at the one who had the second biggest stake in this situation, "Tonks?"
Tonks cleared her head with a shake and a stony expression settled onto her face, "Yeah, let's get some answers."
We stepped up to the former imposter and I asked, "So, Barty… how are you even alive?"
"My Da," He spat, surprisingly open and forthcoming after Dumbledore's show of force. Or maybe he just hated his father that much and was more than willing to throw Crouch Snr under the bus.
"He helped you escape Azkaban?" Tonks pressed further, falling into her interrogative role easily.
Barty scoffed, "Helped me escape. Helped hide me. Helped me by keeping me under the Imperius Curse for 10 years."
Tonks was rocked back on her heels by that information, "Merlin… I'm not remotely qualified to deal with that packet of beans."
"Why even impersonate Moody in the first place?" I picked up the questioning when Tonks faltered.
Barty's face lit up and insane, broken laughter poured out of him, "Ahahahahahaha~! For bigger things than you could ever understand, boy~!"
"What do you mean?"
He just continued to laugh. And laugh. And laugh. Barty Jnr laughed until his eyes rolled back in his head. It was clear we weren't getting any more information out of him this way.
Bella stepped up to the plate, "Don't be a wanker, Barty."
Slowly, Barty stopped laughing, "B-Bella…? Perfect! Help me escape and smite the nonbelievers!"
Bella scoffed, "Not on your life. I've got my mind back now. And that's my perfect baby boy you're refusing to cooperate with. So shut up and answer his questions. Otherwise… I may just have to get… persuasive…"
Barty blinked, "You have a son? Rebastan or Ruldophus?"
"Neither. They were too busy trying to knock each other up to worry about me. Thank Maeve, Morgana, and Magic for that," Bella rolled her eyes. "No, my beautiful Atlas is pure Black. Look, isn't he perfect~?"
"Uh, Bella…" I ventured. "Maybe tone down the pleasant catching up a bit?"
"Oh… Right," Bella shook her head, "I'm sorry, baby. You know how I get when I can talk about you."
She turned to Barty with a smile that made him shiver, "So why are you here, Barty? Be honest. I'm still the same woman you knew. Only now, I have someone else to devote myself to. Someone sooooo~ so much better than the Dark Idiot."
"Lies!" Barty denied. "No one's better than Voldemort! He took us in when no one else would!"
"No, he took you in, Barty. I was forced to obey him by a sycophantic husband. That husband is now very dead. Answer the question, Barty."
"Y-You're unfaithful. You're weak! You're scared of what the Dark Lord can truly be!" Barty started to laugh maniacally again. "He'll show you soon enough! You'll see! You'll witness his return and come crawling back to him! Ahahahahaha~!"
As suddenly as he started, Barty stopped laughing and became deathly serious, waxing poetic, "Hark, fools, hast thou seen true darkness? The cold void that pulls at thine soul? The promise? Of power? Of freedom? Of oblivion?
"Mine Master embodies all. He is not generous. He is not kind. He is not merciful. Everything will fall before him. Lord Voldemort is immortal, eternal. He shall live to see the end of all things.
"The world thinks him gone. Fools, all of you. He lurks in the shadows, just over the horizon. He will return. It is already written. Set in motion by my hand. The world will once again know fear."
Bella rolled her eyes, unceremoniously breaking the gravitas Barty was trying to build, "Translated from Barty-speak: My Dark Idiot is so big and powerful. You should, like, totally be afraid, ya know? Also, he's, like, totally coming back. That was me, by the way. I did that. Daddy Voldemort will be so proud of me."
It worked. Any menace Barty was trying to cultivate disappeared into thin air. He was left with a look of betrayal on his face that soon settled into an expression that was totally not a pout.
"… Uncool, Bella."
Bella shrugged, "Sorry, Barty. I like you but so long as you follow that Dark Idiot, I have no sympathy and mercy for you. That goes doubly if you try to hurt my baby boy or his coven."
"This is the most unorthodox interrogation I've ever seen," Tonks whispered to me out of the corner of her mouth.
I nodded, adding, "And somehow it's working…?"
"Let me guess," Bella continued. "The Dark Idiot is after the Potter girl again? Sorry, Heather."
Even with the worrisome implications of Bella's question, Heather was trying and failing to hide her giggles at this whole thing, "No, no, you're doing great, Bella! Keep-… Snrk~! Keep it up!"
"H-He won't fail again!" Barty insisted almost petulantly. "Potter is the key! She'll bring Voldemort back into the world just as she temporarily saw him out of it!"
That brought Heather's laughter to an instant end and her face scrunched up in disgust, "The way you said that makes it sound like you're going to make me birth Voldemort or something. Just… No. No on so many levels."
"Not like that, you stupid girl! There's a ritual!" Barty spat. "You couldn't write a more ironic twist! It's Brilliant! Poetic!"
"Is it though?" Heather asked skeptically and cynically.
Barty Crouch Jnr was supposed to be a powerful and skilled Dark Wizard. He was one of Voldemort's most loyal supporters. If I met him in a duel, I'd likely have to pay him the respect he deserved. But right now? I couldn't see him as anything other than a pathetic theater kid.
"Hold on," Hermione cut in. "Are you the reason Heather was entered into the tournament?! I'll gut you like a fish!"
I caught her easily before she could charge in and start whaling on Barty. The girl was too protective of Heather for her own good sometimes. Getting more information out of Barty came first right now. Once it was done, I'd be more than willing to help Hermione with her sudden vengeful mission.
Hermione struggled slightly in my arms. Eventually, though, she settled into a pout. The glare she kept sending Barty was vicious but ultimately ineffective.
"Tsk tsk," Bella tutted. "You messed up now, Barty. She's a feisty one. Reminds me of Lily Potter to be honest. Remember her? Remember how viciously meticulous she could be if someone harmed her friends and loved ones?"
Barty scoffed, "She's just a girl. All will fall before Lord Voldemort. You think you've won? Even if you eliminate me, the Dark Lord will find a way."
Something about that set me thinking. Barty was right. Not about Hermione being 'just a girl'. I'd no doubt he'd pay for that comment. But that Voldemort wouldn't stop trying to get a body back no matter what. And I did have a quest to take care of him for good. This situation presented an opportunity like the quest said it would. Now, how to use it to great effect…?
Quest Completed: The Hunt for Moody Condition(s): First, Dumbledore. Now, Tonks? Alastor Moody isn't displaying Constant Vigilance?! Is this the beginning of the end?! Figure out what's happened to Mad-Eye Moody!
Rewards: 5 to Awareness, Opportunity (use it wisely)
Awareness 425=47/100
Opportunity…
The 'interrogation' continued as I thought…
"If you know how pointless your efforts are, why do you keep going?" Tonks asked.
Barty sneered, "He is my lord. He is the one I have chosen to follow. Through death itself. I have not lost faith like the others. The cowards. Everything I have, everything I am, goes into seeing him return. Then… his true darkness will grace the weak, the impure, the unfaithful."
"It's a shame you chose the Dark Idiot," Luna said innocently. "You could have been a great Henchman."
"I am a great Henchman!" Barty protested, more offended than he was throughout the whole rest of the interrogation.
Luna shook her head sadly, "No, you're a great minion. Dark Lords don't have Henchmen. They have minions and sycophants and cannon fodder. I bet he doesn't even give you a health plan."
Barty sputtered at a loss for words, "Wha-! I-I-! N-No-…"
"And it's such a shame," Luna continued. "You have the gravitas and theatrics down to a spell. Honestly, you'd be an inspiration if… you know…"
"I am an inspiration!" Barty snapped. "I'm my lord's greatest advocate! You won't find a more loyal Death Eater! The others cower in their Pure-Blood ivory towers, dreading my lord's return. But me?! I'm really out here doing his bidding, his dirty work! Come the Third Task, you'll see! You'll watch as my lord rises from the dead and shows the Wizarding world its place!"
"And would the Third Task be when this ritual you mentioned is taking place?" Septima spoke up, asking as nonchalantly as she would ask a question in class.
"Likely after the Third Task," Aurora added. "I'll bet he plans to set a trap for Heather there and the real ritual will take place somewhere else."
"Ah, good hypothesis, Aurora," Septima complimented before turning her questions back to Barty. "So where is the real ritual supposed to take place?"
Looking over at the two of them, it was clear they were taking notes on each and every one of Barty's answers. Their questions were casual like this was a lecture instead of an interrogation. They weren't giving Barty any respect. To be fair, he was practically a declawed kitten at this point. With Dumbledore, Bella, and me here, he wouldn't be trying anything any time soon.
"I-… What-…? Hey!" Barty cried in indignation.
Dumbledore stepped back into the conversation with amused chuckles that robbed Barty of every sense of agency he presumed to have, "My, my, this is quite entertaining. Don't you agree, Alastor?"
Moody - the real one - limped along at Dumbledore's side and replied with a barking laugh, "Not the kind of revenge I'd usually go for, but who am I to complain when it seems to be driving this little shit mad?"
"Moody!" Tonks launched herself at her mentor, nearly knocking him over in the process. "Thank Merlin you're actually okay."
"Good Lord, girlie," Moody grunted. "Careful there. Sitting in a trunk for six months didn't do my old bones any favors."
Tonks jumped back with a yelp, rubbing her side where Moody hit her with a slight Stinging Hex, "Ah! Dammit, Mad-Eye! You haven't even been back for a whole minute yet!"
"Constant Vigilance!"
"I could say the same to you," Tonks glared, slugging him in the shoulder.
"Just goes to show you how important my lessons are! Even I can get caught out. Never let your guard down!" Moody said.
Dumbledore smiled slightly, "I think you can cut her some slack, Alastor. She was the one who spearheaded this whole rescue operation. If it wasn't for her, you would have spent the rest of the year in that trunk."
Moody glared at his older friend, "You tellin' me you can't even tell me apart from a Death Eater? You didn't notice nothin'?"
"Oh, I noticed something. I just didn't know what I noticed. I never even suspected an imposter. I simply thought you were having a bad year for your mental health. That the nightmares and such had returned. I was too busy trying to get your imposter into impromptu therapy sessions with me. Even then, young Barty had me fooled, unfortunately. Truly, he missed his calling as an actor…"
In the background, Barty seemed to collapse in on himself at that last comment, "Da, you bastard…"
"Still seems like you're losing your touch in your old age, Albus," Moody replied to Dumbledore with a glare of his magical and original eyes.
"I suppose you're right," Dumbledore chuckled. "But you know as well as I do that we live in a society of prats and cretins. They just wouldn't accept being led by anyone else while I'm still alive and kicking."
"You used to have no problem telling people to stuff it," Moody harshly pointed out.
"I wouldn't put it as such…" Dumbledore hedged.
Moody's smirk was almost cruel and knowing, "Yeah? What was it you told the previous Minister when she asked you to endorse her that last time?"
Dumbledore hesitated almost sheepishly, "… That even against Fudge, she'd have a better chance of winning if she ran for Fourth Year Prefect… A position that doesn't exist…"
Moody barked a laugh, "Ha! That's right! You tellin' me you've gone soft, Albus?"
"I wouldn't say he's gone soft…" I absently commented, still focusing most of my attention on the plan that was formulating in my mind. "Just more than a touch mad. You should hear how he opens Wizengamot sessions…"
Moody eyed me curiously, his gaze intense enough to pull a bit more of my attention from my thoughts, "A young Wizard who actually speaks his mind around you? Where'd you find this one, Albus?"
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, more than happy to turn the teasing onto me, "Oh, my! I just realized how behind you are, Alastor. You've never actually met Atlas here. He's had… quite the year…"
Rolling my eyes, I stuck a hand out to greet Moody properly, "Atlas Black. Hogwarts Assistant Professor, Heir Black, Heather Potter's guardian and coach for the Triwizard Tournament, unofficial coven leader, and all-around nuisance for Pure-Blood Lords since about six months ago."
Moody took my offered hand cynically, only focusing on me with his real eye. His magical eye darted around, cataloging everything in sight, "Well met, Black. Seems you managed to get raised right in that mess of a family. I'd imagine you're from a hidden branch or something…?
"And don't think I didn't see you, Bellatrix! No idea what you're doing here but you ain't done your usual yet and no one else is freaking out. I've got my eye on you though!"
Dumbledore shook his head fondly, "Yes, you really are quite behind on current events, Alastor… Bellatrix has managed to break the control of her contract and is turning over a new (or should that be old?) leaf. She's currently making up for time with her long-lost son."
"If your wand or hand so much as twitches in my mother's direction, I will drop you faster than a sack of bricks," I warned, serious as sharpened steel. "Albus' friend or not, I certainly trust her a Hell of a lot more than I trust you. Who's to say you're not still an imposter trying to double-bluff us?"
Pure intent built with my threat. My magic flexed. The air around me shimmered. Sparks passed from my hand into his. Moody held my gaze through the flare of power.
Tonks gasped, "Atlas!?"
Suddenly, Moody cracked the first smile I'd seen on his scarred face, "That's more like it! Constant Vigilance! You've got potential, kid. Right wicked potential. We'll see if we can really hone that edge."
"Thank… you…" I said slowly, letting my threat fade.
"Someone sit on the prisoner so he doesn't get any ideas while we talk!" Moody barked an order.
"On it~!" Luna chimed.
Breath was driven from Barty's lungs, "Oof!"
"Oh, hush. I'm certainly not heavy. And you shouldn't complain. I outrank you on the evil hierarchy, after all. Henchwoman beats minion every time~" Luna finished in a singsong voice that was equally as mocking as it was endearing.
"You dare-?! The indignity! This will not stand! You've made an enemy here this day, girl!" Barty declared.
"Luna, he didn't mean to literally sit on-…" I started before pausing to reconsider. "Actually, never mind. Good job. We don't want him getting any high and mighty ideas about his place in the evil hierarchy."
Luna beamed a smile at me, "I serve to please, Professor~!"
I blinked, "That… didn't sound quite right."
"Bah! Forget that, Black. Just the usual Lovegood oddities," Moody interrupted, waving off my slight confusion. "We got bigger things to talk about at the moment."
"Yeah, what are we going to do about the Third Task? And this guy?" Heather asked. "Am I just supposed to walk knowingly into a trap?"
The rest of the plan I was working on clicked into place in my brain, "That's it! Hey, Mad-Eye, how are your acting skills?"
"Decent enough, I reckon. But I ain't gonna be stepping up on a stage any time soon if I can help it," Moody grumbled. "Guess it depends on what role I have to play."
"How about playing someone who's pretending to be you?"
Moody turned that sentence over in his mind for a few moments before laughing out loud, "… Ha! I think I see where you're going with this, Black! Don't know why you want me to do that but I can see the first bits of a plan here."
I grinned at him, "We'll be springing the trap. On purpose. On our own terms. And hopefully, we'll take care of Voldemort once and for all."
"Uh… we're doing what…?" Heather got stuck trying to process the idea of ridding her life of Voldemort for good.
"The Dark Idiot has his trap. We'll be playing along but only partially. He won't have any idea that he's walking into our trap instead. A ritual destroyed one of his Horcruxes already. We just have to find the perfect one to finish the job. Let Moody take his place back but keep doing everything Barty was doing as his imposter. Then we bide our time, set up the trap, and execute," I explained simply.
"You'll need a lot more information to pull all of that off properly," Moody advised.
Everyone turned to Barty at once. He paled, stuck under Luna as she casually kicked her feet into his side.
"Y-You'll get nothing more from me, y-you philistines!"
"So…" I said leadingly. "Veritaserum or Imperius? No offense, Albus, but I don't really want to get Severus involved with this plan."
Bella stepped up eagerly, "I'll cast the Imperius on him and make him answer every single question we ask! I won't let you blacken your soul if I can help it, Atlas!"
"Heh, blacken… Black…" Heather chuckled, channeling her Godfather.
Dumbledore stepped up in turn, smiling almost fondly, "There is no need for anyone to blacken their souls. Allow me. I am a Master Legilimens. I don't mind pulling young Barty's mind apart to get what we need. I'm quite excited about this plan of yours, Atlas. I'm sure you understand why."
The twinkle in his eyes intensified. He stopped in front of Barty, causing Luna to leave her perch and skitter over to my side. Weight fell over the room - and most of all, Barty - again. Barty visibly panicked, struggling as his instincts pushed him to flee. His face might as well have been carved from stone though. No doubt he'd slammed any Occlumency shields he had as far down as they could go. They did nothing.
Barty's shields may as well have been sheets of paper in his mind. In the face of Albus "Too Many Fucking Names" Dumbledore, he never stood a chance. Dumbledore's mental probe was practically visible. A spear made of twinkles and sparkles, lancing from his eyes into the eyes of Barty Crouch Jnr.
He went stiff. Dumbledore obviously wasn't gentle. He foamed at the mouth. Dumbledore tore through his mind. His body spasmed. Dumbledore ripped every bit of information from every one of his hiding places. His eyes cried tears of blood. Dumbledore vented magic into the air around him. Barty Crouch Jnr all but fell over dead there and then…
When Dumbledore pulled back, Barty was left limp and seemingly mindless. The rest of us were left to shiver uncomfortably at what we'd just witnessed. There was no denying it. Dumbledore was terrifying when he was being vengeful. As Barty slowly began to stir again, Dumbledore turned back to us.
He chuckled casually as if nothing was wrong, the information he'd gained twinkling in his eyes, "Yes, I must say… Quite excited, Atlas…"
IIIII
I groaned in that space between sleep and awareness. Something wasn't quite right. Even my addled mind could tell that much. I tried to roll over and was surprised when I could. There wasn't a body weighing me down while I slept like usual. Where was Luna…?
Septima was here. As was Bella, curled up in cat form at the foot of the bed. The others usually slept in their own rooms. It was only that fact that kept me from having to have my bed expanded multiple times over already.
Luna usually slept smack dab on top of me. And she liked to spread out as much as she could to absorb all of my body heat and make herself a cuddly nuisance. She was just lucky I didn't sleep on my side. That gave her much more space to work with.
It was pretty damn noticeable when she wasn't here. Movement by the door to my quarters drew my attention. Groaning again, I rolled over and off the bed. I gave Septima a little peck and a whisper while I grabbed my wand.
"Go back to sleep. I'll handle it."
She moaned in reply, still more asleep than awake. Turning back to the room, I saw a petite shadow had frozen in front of the door.
"Luna?" I asked, still whispering. "Couldn't sleep?"
In the low light, I had to get close to see her sheepish expression, "No… Sorry… Now is just the best time for Snorkack hunting…"
"In the Castle?"
"In the Room of Requirement. I feel I'm close to a breakthrough!" Luna whispered with hushed, nervous excitement. "Snorkacks may just be native to the Room itself! That's why me and my father could never find them in the wild!"
"OooooOOOOohhh…?" I yawned, blinking the rest of the sleep out of my eyes. "Why didn't you say so?"
"I-… Y-You're not mad…?"
"Mad? Luna, I know how much these creatures mean to you and your dad. Until there's proof either way as to their existence, I'll stay skeptically optimistic. Hell, the Muggle world is discovering new species every year. I can't imagine a world where magical creatures are easier to find than mundane ones."
I barely had time to say all of that before Luna launched herself into my chest. She clung to me tight as a limpet. Her sniffles seemed to echo in the dark silence of my quarters. She rubbed her face against my bare chest, unaware or simply not caring about the mess she was making. I wrapped my arms around her in return. It seemed even with all the support Luna had now, there were still long-implanted issues that plagued her mind.
"Now, if you were going into the Forbidden Forest at-…" I paused. "What time is it anyway?"
"3:27 AM," Luna muttered.
"Right… Prime Snorkack hunting hours, of course… Anyway, if you were going into the Forbidden at 3 AM, I probably would have stopped you. At least to ensure you had someone else with you to watch your back. But just the Room? I trust Hogwarts to keep you safe there."
"Does that mean you don't want to come with me this time…?"
I thought for a moment, "On one hand, it is very late. On the other…"
Luna turned her face up to look at me with pleading puppy dog eyes. Oh, that wasn't fair. Wasn't fair at all. Those soulful eyes… That adorable face…
"Don't you dare, Missy-…" I started to warn.
Ah, fuck, too late. There goes the quivering lip. Must resist… Hngh-! It was no use. Any desire I may have had for more sleep went out the window immediately in the face of Luna's not-quite earnest pleas. I knew there was a healthy amount of purposeful cunning behind those eyes. But I also knew there was an even greater amount of genuine desire to share this with me.
I sighed, "Haaa… Fine. We'll go Snorkack hunting instead of getting an appropriate amount of sleep."
Luna's patented Pout #4 disappeared in an instant, replaced with a bright smile, "Yay~! This will be great~! I'm pretty sure I've narrowed down their nesting grounds already! The Room gives me the same room every time I ask it to do its Room-y thing. You'll see! It's beautiful! Like a fairy wonderland!"
She went off in hushed whispers, leading me out of my quarters and practically dragging me down the halls toward the Seventh Floor. Despite myself, I couldn't help but smile. Sleepiness was slowly starting to leave my body, pushed away by Luna's infectious enthusiasm. If worst came to worst, I could always take a Pepper-Up Potion with my morning tea. Seeing Luna this happy was more than worth that little sacrifice.
Before I knew it, we were in front of the blank wall that signified the Room of Requirement when not in use. Luna let go of my hand and paced in front of the wall, still babbling to me as she did.
"And-! And I've even found tracks last time~! I didn't have enough time to follow them to their source, but I have a good feeling this time~! We'll go in all like 'Hello…?' and then, bam! Snorkack tracks! And we go 'How interesting… ' and follow them to the source! And we find fur and droppings and horn marks along the way like 'Hmm… '! And you have a magnifying glass and deer stalker for some reason and I have a bowler hat and a cane and-!"
The Room's door appeared at that moment, cutting Luna off in the middle of her run-on sentence. She immediately darted inside. I followed more cautiously, shaking my head in fond exasperation. I certainly wasn't tired anymore. I'd like to see anyone try and sleep through Luna's excited babbling.
The moment I stepped through the door, my breath caught in my throat. Purple. Everywhere. As far as the eye could see. Purple leaves. Purple grass and ferns and shrubs. Even the sky seemed to be stuck in a perpetual version of purple twilight. Stars were just starting to shine through it, twinkling on and off forever against the darkness. Was it even a real sky? Did the Room conjure this place out of nothing or was it real somewhere?
"Wow…" I exhaled breathlessly. "Luna, wha-… how'd you even find this place?"
"Well, you know how the Room can provide anything?" Luna asked, not waiting for an actual answer. "I figured I could ask it for a place where I could search for Crumple-Horned Snorkacks and other creatures.
"It gave me this forest. It even matches my dreams and my mother's diary! I only started dreaming of this place after coming to Hogwarts and Mummy's diaries say it was the same for her. Her family was known for dream visions. I think Hogwarts was showing her this place on purpose because she hadn't even heard of Snorkacks until she met Daddy!"
"I… don't even know where to start there…" I said. "Different dimension? Pocket reality? A space native to the magic of the Room of Requirement itself? This place is fascinating, Luna."
"Isn't it~?" Luna beamed. "Ah! Look, more tracks~! C'mon, let's go~!"
I found myself being pulled along. Periodically on our path, worryingly large animal tracks appeared. Each footprint was larger than a dinner plate, pressed into the grass and dirt under a great weight, and sporting marks that could only indicate claws of some kind. Luna still followed each one religiously, putting all of her faith into them leading her to the creatures of her father's stories.
We occasionally found tufts of purple fur and feathers of all things stuck to greenish-brown bark. They just pushed Luna's excitement higher. She was practically vibrating as she skipped along, pulling me behind her. I kept my head on a swivel, not trusting this place as much as Luna seemed to naturally. Nothing seemed malicious but we certainly weren't alone here.
The shadows seemed so long in the perpetual twilight. The whole world took on a certain hue. Pink and purple, vibrant as paint on canvas, shaded everything in sight. Whistles and clicks filled the air, echoing from here to there and back again. Strange-looking birds flitted between the trees, cast in shadows as if they were just a mirage.
This really was a whole world in itself. Secreted away for years, decades, or even centuries, there was no denying it had taken a life of its own. Life thrived here, untouched by the outside world. A whole ecosystem that had never seen the light of day. Protected as it was by the Room of Requirement, this place barely seemed real.
It made me wonder just how much we were still underutilizing the Room of Requirement. We were barely scratching the surface of what it could offer. Training rooms? Pools? Comfortable sitting rooms? How about an entire pocket dimension with its own native wildlife? What else could the Room of Requirement and Hogwarts herself be hiding?
I saw our goal before Luna did. I froze in place, refusing to be dragged along any farther. Luna was focused on the tracks on the ground. She tapped her chin cutely, pondering where to go next. When I stopped, she looked back at me.
She gasped as she followed my gaze, "Ah~! Oh my, oh my, oh my~!"
She kept her voice down to not disturb the creature we'd come across, "Atlas, Atlas~! It's really here~! What do we do, what do we do?!"
"We… try… very hard… to keep from… getting gored through… by that horn…" I said slowly, barely believing my eyes.
"Oh, calm down, Atlas. Daddy says Snorkacks are very docile creatures," Luna dismissed, already moving forward.
I stopped her, having to pick her up completely in the process, "How about we confirm that out for ourselves before doing anything rash?"
She pouted in my arms, "Oh, pooh…"
I defended my course of action, "It looks like a hippo. I'm not taking any chances. You don't mess with hippos."
There between the trees and foliage, a gigantic creature grazed peacefully. Clad completely in purple - natural camouflage, perhaps? - It almost blended into the surroundings. Something that big should never have been that unassuming and unnoticeable.
Fur coated every inch of its body. A line of feathers ran down its spine like a ridge of spikes. It was large, bordering on fat. But I could tell there was a thick layer of muscle beneath all of that fluff and fat. It really did look like a purple hippo and nothing about the creature scared me more than that fact.
Its face was flat, almost bill-shaped like a duck, with a wide jaw. Grasses and whole bushes disappeared into that constantly chewing mouth. A pair of vicious, vampire-like fangs stuck up from its bottom lip. The rest of its teeth were flat and almost brutal to look at.
Then there was the body part that was its namesake. The horn protruded from its forehead, spiraling like a Unicorn's and as long as a man's arm. It sparkled in the low twilight. As we watched, something just as sparkly as the horn itself dripped down its length.
"It's true… You really can milk a Snorkack's horn…" Luna muttered breathlessly.
"How the hell…? Is it like snake venom…? No, never mind," I shook my head. "Luna? I'll be honest. That thing terrifies me."
Luna giggled, "Don't be silly, Atlas. It should be perfectly harmless. Here, listen. I'll call it over with Daddy's Snorkack call. Maaaauuuuuoooooooooo~!"
She was calling out before I could stop her. The Snorkack's head rose almost leisurely. It was as if the creature knew it had all the time in the world. Still chewing, it began to lumber over to us, shaking the ground with each step of its massive body.
Luna wiggled free of my grip to greet the Snorkack, "Hello, big fella~! Aren't you just so handsome~?! Yes, you are~! Can I pet you?"
The Snorkack seemed to preen and nod permission. Luna reached out to stroke its soft fur. A low rumble sounded in its chest, vibrating Luna through her contact with its fur.
New Perk Unlocked Seer of the Unseen: You have found the unfindable. The Snorkack greets you fondly and wishes you luck in all of your endeavors. See the Unseen. 2 to Awareness, 2 to Luck, 3 to Perception, 3 to Willpower
Awareness 472=49/100, Luck 492=51/100, Perception 333=36/100, Willpower 453=48/100
While the Perk was welcome, its wording raised some questions in my mind, "Uh, Luna? How intelligent is a Snorkack supposed to be?"
Luna cocked her head, still petting the creature, "According to Daddy, about the same level as the Merpeople. Practically sapient. Of course, the Ministry would never acknowledge that fact even if they knew they existed… Close-minded fools…"
I nearly recoiled in surprise as the Snorkack smirked, "That's… Do they have a society?"
"Don't be silly, Atlas. Snorkacks don't care about something as meaningless as that. So long as they have grass and leaves to munch on, they're happy. They're solitary creatures as well. Much like Dragons. Do you think a Dragon cares about something like property taxes or the collective good of society?"
"… No, I suppose they wouldn't," I allowed myself an amused smirk. "But they could have a society if they wanted?"
"Of course," Luna nodded. "It just wouldn't be anything like one we would recognize. They're not Humans. Witches and Wizards already have trouble recognizing House Elf society and they're the closest magical species to us on a day-to-day basis. And don't get me started on how the Goblins are treated. We wouldn't know where to begin when it comes to Snorkacks or Dragons."
I allowed myself to absorb her words as Luna lost herself in the Snorkack's soft fur. It wasn't as if I was ignorant of the intelligence levels of the different magical species. But I suppose I didn't give the subject as much thought as it truly warranted. Thankfully, Luna was here to remind me of that and keep me honest and open-minded.
"… I'm gonna ride it," Luna eventually broke the comfortable silence with firm conviction.
"Luna, no!"
As I tried to prevent her from mounting it, the Crumple-Horned Snorkack just looked like it was the most amused one there…
34.5: Propa' Ganda', Innit?
Three figures crowded around a sheet of parchment…
"This… This is how we shall spread the truth…" The primary figure preached - taken with a devotion that shined through her words.
The older figure somehow matched that devotion, "Aaaahhh~ Yes~! The world deserves to know~! My perfect baby boy should shine~! They won't be able to help but flock to his cause like moths to a flame~!"
"I knew you would understand, Mother-in-law. We should capitalize on all the good PR surrounding Atlas recently. And as lovely as Hermione is, she doesn't understand the need to advertise for her revolution's champion," Gabrielle Delacour smirked with satisfaction.
Bella matched her smirk with a spacey look in her eyes, "Yes, of course, darling~ Atlas is everything~ He deserves to have his story heard."
The youngest figure raised a slight concern, "Shouldn't we include Atlas in this process?"
"He will know, Luna," Gabrielle reassured. "But the initial push should come from the true devotees of Mon Ange. Namely, us~ Atlas and the others will understand once we get the ball rolling."
"Oh, I wish I had baby pictures of Atlas to share," Bella pouted.
"That is another reason," Gabrielle added. "As wonderful as these artifacts are, they still have limitations. Those twins wish to keep it exclusively for students at the moment. Mother-in-law can only be included through us. Atlas himself is the exception because he's an investor."
"I don't know…" Luna wasn't completely convinced.
Gabrielle shrugged, "You can tell him if you wish. I won't stop you. He will have to discover the thread somehow. In fact, why don't you help him coordinate his responses? And if he has any objections, I will stop this whole thing where it stands."
"Okay~!" Luna cheerfully agreed, her worries put to rest by that last allowance. "It'll be like an extended public interview! Oh, this will be fun~!"
" Sooooooo~ much fun," Bella purred. "It's the perfect excuse to exalt my baby boy~!"
"Oh, oh! Do you think we can get him to talk about how the coven started~?!" Luna asked, now completely on board with the idea.
Gabrielle smiled as her plan came together. Out of the whole coven, she knew these two would understand the most. She wasn't trying to hurt or deceive Atlas. She just wanted to share how wonderful the man who saved her was.
And though many events were public, much of Atlas' life and this year wasn't known at the same time. This way, the truth could be heard from the mouths of those closest to it. And if they could put a good spin on everything, well… a little propaganda never hurt anyone.
IIIII
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Topic: Atlas Black Answers All
In: Boards Questions and Answers
LovelyFrenchBrat (Original Poster) (Guest) (Brat (Affectionate)) (French) (Coven Member #3)
Posted On Apr 1st 1995:
Oui, you read that title right. Some of you may know me. Some may not. I am a guest from Beauxbatons this year. The sister of one of the Triwizard Champions. But more importantly, I am a member of the rumored White Coven.
In that role, I felt the desire to put this thread forward. Mon Ange himself should be discovering this thread as it is going up. Whether he answers questions is up to him. Whether the thread stays up at all is the same.
But if he consents, I shall be answering questions about Mon Ange. Hopefully, he will be doing the same. If you are interested in the truth from the source, please stick around.
In addition, I have a special guest with me. Bellatrix Black could not get her own parchment due to understandable concerns from its inventors. They are not selling them to any adults at the moment, as I understand it. So she is next to me and is more than willing to answer questions directed at her as well.
"Hello, kiddies~! Let Momma Bella tell you all about her perfect baby boy~!" - Bella
(Showing page 1 of 13)
TerribleTwins1 (Gryffindor) (Prankster) (Beater)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Is this a prank?
TerribleTwinsA (Gryffindor) (Prankster) (Beater)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
It is that day of the year, dear brother…
WeightOfTheWorld (Professor) (Investor) (Coven Member #0)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
sigh* It's not. But I suppose it's not a bad idea. So long as we keep things casual and civil, I'm willing to keep this going for now. Ask away. I'll 'Answer All'.
HenchwomanVtuber (Ravenclaw) (LoveGooder) (Coven Member #2) (Shh, It's a Secret)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
OH, OH, can I start~?!
WeightOfTheWorld (Professor) (Investor) (Coven Member #0)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Luna, you're literally right next to me in real life right now. And you helped set this whole event in motion. Not to mention, you can ask me questions at any time…
HenchwomanVtuber (Ravenclaw) (LoveGooder) (Coven Member #2) (Shh, It's a Secret)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Yeah, but if I asked you in person, no one else could hear your answer! That's the whole point of an answer thread!
WeightOfTheWorld (Professor) (Investor) (Coven Member #0)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
I can't argue with that logic. Ask away, Luna.
HenchwomanVtuber (Ravenclaw) (LoveGooder) (Coven Member #2) (Shh, It's a Secret)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
How did the coven start?
FabulouslyLavender (Fabulous) (Gryffindor) (Queen Bee)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Looks around* Oh~? Parv, wake up! New Atlas thread just dropped!
End of Page. 1, 2, 3… 11, 12, 13
(Showing page 2 of 13)
Shiva'sBride (Gryffindor) (Indian Goddess) (Love)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Score! Storytime! I know Padma's already here somewhere. I swear I see her on this thing just as much as everyone else but she never writes.
SoftPads (Ravenclaw) (Quiet Twin)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
… I'm here. I'm always here… Please don't draw attention to me, Parvati… I like to lurk…
WeightOfTheWorld (Professor) (Investor) (Coven Member #0)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Well, I for one, am happy to have you here, Padma.
And to answer Luna's question, the coven wasn't planned. At least, not by me.
There was definitely a lot of thought put into it by the other founding member though. Septima (Professor Vector) has been planning something like this for nearly her whole life. I don't want to share too much without her permission but the coven was originally her brain baby.
When we started dating, she broached the subject with me. It took a bit of convincing but I eventually agreed. Mostly due to other circumstances that were coming up at the same time.
After that, Magic did what it does best and the rest is history.
LovelyFrenchBrat (Original Poster) (Guest) (Brat (Affectionate)) (French) (Coven Member #3)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
As I understand it, Septima has been fantasizing about creating/joining a coven and founding a new House since she was a child. Part of why she went into Arithmancy was to calculate the ideal coven formation, taking into account everything from base magical nature to special traits. She is a strict but wonderful coven mistress and we all love her.
"And she's good for my baby boy~! She keeps him on the right path, continues to educate him even now, and loves him nearly as much as I do! 100% mother-approved!" - Bella
ChangSenpai (Seeker) (Ravenclaw)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Oh~, how traditionally romantic~!
PettyPansy (Slytherin) (Not Not Neutral)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Honestly? Yeah, goals. Get yourself a Wizard who's willing to indulge your childhood fantasies.
Or help you deal with your childhood traumas~
Hey, Lord Daddy~
GreenEyedGirl (Gryffindor) (Seeker) (Girl-Who-Lived)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Diiiiiiddddddddd~ someone say childhood trauma?
Oh, hey, an Atlas tell-all… Sounds fun. I guess I'll stick around.
Also, Pansy? Yeah, he's pretty good at that second bit too…
WeightOfTheWorld (Professor) (Investor) (Coven Member #0)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
No comment…
But since this thread seems to be blowing up, I suppose I should take another question.
Svetlana (Pure-Blood) (Durmstrang) (Russian)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
What is this…? Hoh, question and answer. Good. I have question for British Titan.
Are you currently accepting offers for my little Dragon's hand in marriage? I will pay substantial dowry. And promise to take… ~Good~… care of him.
Mummy'sLittleDragon (Slytherin) (Pure-Blood)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Say yes! For the love of all that is holy, say yes, Atlas!
End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4… 11, 12, 13
(Showing page 3 of 13)
NottaProblem (Slytherin) (Pure-Blood) (Dark)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
You'd accept being a trophy for a Witch? Pathetic.
Mummy'sLittleDragon (Slytherin) (Pure-Blood)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Oh, shut the actual fuck up, Nott. It's a better chance than you'll ever get.
Besides, have you seen Svetlana?! Have you met her?! I know for a fact you didn't have the same night after the Yule Ball that I had with her.
I realize a Witch showing any interest at all is such a foreign concept to you, Nott, but please keep your moronic opinions to yourself.
Svetlana is a goddess of ice and snow. I'd be lucky to be kept as her lover, much less her actual husband.
PettyPansy (Slytherin) (Not Not Neutral)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Holy shit… I never thought I'd see the day Draco said something as sensible as that. If he didn't declare his every intention to the heavens, I'd almost call this move Slytherin…
Svetlana (Pure-Blood) (Durmstrang) (Russian)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Smirk* I do good work, da?
Shiva'sBride (Gryffindor) (Indian Goddess) (Love)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Being a 6'4" statuesque blonde Amazon probably helps
Svetlana (Pure-Blood) (Durmstrang) (Russian)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Is no need for hostility. I simply work with what Magic has given. I am open to sharing my methods. Every Witch deserves a well-trained husband.
FabulouslyLavender (Fabulous) (Gryffindor) (Queen Bee)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Hear Hear! Not all of us are lucky or even willing enough in the first place to have a spot in the coven of the century.
Shiva'sBride (Gryffindor) (Indian Goddess) (Love)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
… I'd like to officially retract my sass and say that I think giving Witchy-Fatale lessons would be a wonderful thing to do, Svetlana.
NottaProblem (Slytherin) (Pure-Blood) (Dark)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Is this the current state of the next generation of Witches? The world truly is going to Hell…
Svetlana (Pure-Blood) (Durmstrang) (Russian)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Remove yourself from my sight, weak pathetic worm of a man. Blocked.
End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5… 11, 12, 13
(Showing page 4 of 13)
Shiva'sBride (Gryffindor) (Indian Goddess) (Love)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
What does that do-… Oh, that's dead useful. Blocked.
GreenEyedGirl (Gryffindor) (Seeker) (Girl-Who-Lived)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Oh, oh! Me next! Suck an egg, Nott. Blocked.
PettyPansy (Slytherin) (Not Not Neutral)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Blocked. Wow, that feels powerful to do. Good feature, Weasleys.
TerribleTwinsA (Gryffindor) (Prankster) (Beater)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Did… we add that…?
TerribleTwins1 (Gryffindor) (Prankster) (Beater)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Shhh! Of course, we did!
DrunkIrishman (Gryffindor) (Irish)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
I for one, would just like to say that I think strong women are sexy as all Hell!
DeanyDean (Gryffindor)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Seconded.
Mummy'sLittleDragon (Slytherin) (Pure-Blood)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
The only cultured and correct opinion a Wizard can hold in this situation. My eyes have been opened to the truth. If she can't pick me up in a bridal carry, I don't want her!
HeirLongbottom (Gryffindor)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
I've always thought my future wife would be my equal in all things.
IDon'tSparkle (Hogwarts Champion) (Hufflepuff)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
I'm with Neville here. So long as we love each other, I'm fine with my wife being herself however she wants to be.
End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6… 11, 12, 13
(Showing page 5 of 13)
BlackWidow'sSon (Slytherin) (Seduction Runs in His Blood)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
You all know who my mother is. If I had a problem with strong women, I wouldn't have made it to puberty.
WeightOfTheWorld (Professor) (Investor) (Coven Member #0)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
I feel like we've gotten way off track here…
But yes, Svetlana, Draco's hand is available. I'll put you in contact with his mother.
And for the record, Cedric is the most right here. Strong Witches are sexy. Soft Witches are sexy too. Be yourself, girls. Someone will like you for who you are. If they don't, that's their fault, not yours. And their loss as well.
Next question.
SherlockBones (Hufflepuff)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
I have a question for Miss Bellatrix Black, actually. How was Professor Atlas conceived/what was the situation surrounding and leading up to his birth?
LovelyFrenchBrat (Original Poster) (Guest) (Brat (Affectionate)) (French) (Coven Member #3)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
"Oh, wonderful~! I've always wanted to tell this story!
"Atlas was conceived in the usual way. The only thing of note was that he was mostly an accident. Not to say I regret having him! He's the best thing to ever happen to me~! But he wasn't planned.
"What Sirius and I had was nothing more than a rebellious fling. My 'parents' were starting talks about marriage at the time. I lashed out and slept with Sirius, who was something of a pariah in House Black. He was a bit younger, a whole lot of fun, and a slap in the face of my 'parents' plans for me. Our affair was just supposed to be something wild to show my 'parents' that they couldn't control me like they wanted to." - Bella
GreenEyedGirl (Gryffindor) (Seeker) (Girl-Who-Lived)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Haha! Padfoot, you dog!
LovelyFrenchBrat (Original Poster) (Guest) (Brat (Affectionate)) (French) (Coven Member #3)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
"Obviously, that last bit backfired. But my 'parents' wouldn't use my blood to sign the… contract… as my magical guardians until after Atlas was born. After that… everything is kind of a blur…
"Sirius and I weren't nearly ready for parenthood but we were willing to try. Unfortunately, fate had other plans. With the war, the contract, and Sirius still finishing up school, we figured the best option was to stash Atlas away until things were safer. Atlas was eventually supposed to grow up with Sirius. The mutt managed to screw that up (I understand now that I've met Heather too but I'm still slightly pissed at him…) and Atlas sat in that orphanage for much longer than he should have.
"I was too busy hating the world and myself under the contract to do anything. The memory of holding Atlas in my arms that first time was all that kept me going for so long…" - Bella
FabulouslyLavender (Fabulous) (Gryffindor) (Queen Bee)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Awwwwwwww… I'm, like, actually about to cry.
SherlockBones (Hufflepuff)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
You're not alone…
Thank you, Miss Black. Thank you for sharing that story. I think I speak for all the girls here when I say it adds so much more depth to the horror story we were told as children.
LovelyFrenchBrat (Original Poster) (Guest) (Brat (Affectionate)) (French) (Coven Member #3)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
"So long as I can help it, no woman will go through what I went through. Cissy and I will fight the old marriage contracts for as long as we have to. If I have to, I'll take matters into my own hands." - Bella
The White Coven echoes Bella's sentiment and supports her ambition. We stand with our mother-in-law.
PettyPansy (Slytherin) (Not Not Neutral)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
I swear to Merlin, if that Nott prick shows up and says something wankerish to ruin this moment, he won't make it to bed tonight…
End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7… 11, 12, 13
(Showing page 6 of 13)
TerribleTwins1 (Gryffindor) (Prankster) (Beater)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Uh… would it ruin the moment if we circle back on something Heather said during that story?
GreenEyedGirl (Gryffindor) (Seeker) (Girl-Who-Lived)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Go ahead, boys. You'll probably be fine as long as you're respectful to the Witches.
TerribleTwins1 (Gryffindor) (Prankster) (Beater)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
We wouldn't do anything less!
TerribleTwinsA (Gryffindor) (Prankster) (Beater)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
But Padfoot?!?! Sirius Black is Padfoot?! Of the Marauders?
GreenEyedGirl (Gryffindor) (Seeker) (Girl-Who-Lived)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Oh, yeah. You two gave me something of theirs… Guess I never got around to telling you that little fact.
TerribleTwins1 (Gryffindor) (Prankster) (Beater)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
And… that makes Atlas the son of Padfoot…
Bows dramatically*
TerribleTwinsA (Gryffindor) (Prankster) (Beater)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Bows dramatically*
Hail! Hail! We are not worthy! We are not worthy!
WeightOfTheWorld (Professor) (Investor) (Coven Member #0)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Guys, it's really not a big thing…
TerribleTwins1 (Gryffindor) (Prankster) (Beater)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Not a big thing?! You're a Marauder's heir! Why didn't you tell us you were prank royalty?!
GreenEyedGirl (Gryffindor) (Seeker) (Girl-Who-Lived)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Shnk~! Is now a bad time to mention that Prongs was my dad as well?
End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8… 11, 12, 13
(Showing page 7 of 13)
TerribleTwins1 (Gryffindor) (Prankster) (Beater)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
…
TerribleTwinsA (Gryffindor) (Prankster) (Beater)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
… We are not worthy! We are not worthy!
IceQueen (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Is anyone else lost at this point…?
HeirLongbottom (Gryffindor)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Raises hand* Not a clue.
DrunkIrishman (Gryffindor) (Irish)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Good bit of fun though, hahaha
LovelyFrenchBrat (Original Poster) (Guest) (Brat (Affectionate)) (French) (Coven Member #3)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
"Oh, yeah, that little collective. James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew the Rat. Called themselves the Marauders. Lily sort of joined later but that was after my time. They were a bunch of chaotic gremlins. Pranks, parties, you name it. They were fun." - Bella
TerribleTwins1 (Gryffindor) (Prankster) (Beater)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
And the most legendary pranksters Hogwarts has seen in recent memory! Every day, my brother and I try to live up to their greatness.
WeightOfTheWorld (Professor) (Investor) (Coven Member #0)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Alright, guys, if you drop it now, I'll introduce you to Sirius properly. You've already kind of met him at the World Cup. This is supposed to be a question-and-answer thread. We've gotten off track again.
TerribleTwinsA (Gryffindor) (Prankster) (Beater)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Wait, Padfoot was actually Padfoot and not just a dog named Padfoot?!
TerribleTwins1 (Gryffindor) (Prankster) (Beater)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Shutting up now!
TerribleTwinsA (Gryffindor) (Prankster) (Beater)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Ziiiiiiiiiip*
End of Page. 1, 2, 3… 5, 6, 7, 8, 9… 11, 12, 13
(Showing page 8 of 13)
DrunkIrishman (Gryffindor) (Irish)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
I had a question that's been bugging me. What's with the revolver and why'd you use it in the duel with Umbridge?
WeightOfTheWorld (Professor) (Investor) (Coven Member #0)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Quite frankly? To make Luna happy. I guess to make a statement too.
The revolver itself is a family heirloom. It was used by a Black in the 1800s who was exiled to America. He had it modified magically and everything. There's no telling what that little piece has been through before it found its way into my hands.
DrunkIrishman (Gryffindor) (Irish)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Well, it's right wicked. Makes me want one for myself.
IceQueen (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
And it certainly made a statement. No one's going to forget that blast of magic any time soon. The way you used it made you out to be some kind of Gray vigilante. One I could see myself following as he led the way to change…
PettyPansy (Slytherin) (Not Not Neutral)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Isn't that the plan…?
Heather'sMinder (Gryffindor) (Brilliant But Scary)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Not entirely. He's certainly a good figurehead/champion but the whole thing is meant to be more community-driven. Also, shut… up… guys…
IceQueen (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
… Says the girl who revealed more than we did.
Heather'sMinder (Gryffindor) (Brilliant But Scary)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Eep-! I-I mean… I don't know what you mean. Atlas is our champion/figurehead/favorite professor because he's just soooooo young and relatable, guys… right?
WeightOfTheWorld (Professor) (Investor) (Coven Member #0)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Rolls eyes* Yes… I'm the same age as the oldest Seventh Years. That must be it. Nothing else to see here.
Heather'sMinder (Gryffindor) (Brilliant But Scary)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Exactly!
End of Page. 1, 2, 3… 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13
(Showing page 9 of 13)
GreenEyedGirl (Gryffindor) (Seeker) (Girl-Who-Lived)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Smirk* Nice save, Hermione.
IcePrincess (Slytherin) (Princess)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
So, I had a question, Big Bro Atlas~! What's, like, your relationship with Dumbledore like?
IceQueen (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Heh… Sneaky, Story…
But don't call him that. Yet.
WeightOfTheWorld (Professor) (Investor) (Coven Member #0)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Uh, I think Daphne wants to keep that little tidbit a secret for now, Astoria…
PettyPansy (Slytherin) (Not Not Neutral)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Daaaaappppphhhhhh~nneeeee~…? Is there something you want to share with the rest of us?
IceQueen (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
No…
TracingDavis (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Smirk* Really, Daph? You know Pansy's not gonna let it go now that she's gotten a whiff.
SherlockBones (Hufflepuff)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Ignoring… whatever that's about…
I'm actually interested in the original question as well. What are the dynamics between the Hogwarts staff like?
WeightOfTheWorld (Professor) (Investor) (Coven Member #0)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
… I suppose spilling a bit of tea couldn't hurt. Just don't let what I say leave this thread, yeah?
Dumbledore - He's one mad bastard. Not that I think he's insane. I just know for a fact he doesn't have a single fuck left to give in his old body anymore. He's done practically everything and now he's just left to have fun. If it was anyone else, I'd be worried by that prospect.
McGonagall - As a student, I saw her as something of a stern motherly figure. I'm sure many of you feel the same way. That didn't change when I became a professor. But I've gotten to see a more casual side of her at times and I can honestly say she's a wonderful Witch.
Flitwick - As a former Ravenclaw, I have something of a soft spot for him. He's brilliant and fearsome, and I'm happy to be able to call him my friend. Earning his approval after my first class teaching with him is one of my most treasured memories.
Snape - We're civil with each other. I don't agree with his teaching methods. Or his attitude toward students. Or basically anything else about him. But I can acknowledge he's a competent Potion Master and put those differences aside when we have to work together.
Sprout - Surprisingly fun and interesting outside of her professor role. And some of the 'extracurriculars' she provides… Well, if you know, you know…
Vector - I'm obviously biased when it comes to Septima. She's easily my favorite person on the staff. Brilliant. Gorgeous. Absolutely lovely. I'll take the whole stock!
Sinistra - Aurora is a very very very close second to Septima. She's laid back, easy to get along with, and all-around wicked fun.
Moody - Grumpy bastard. Next.
Trelawney - Almost always drinking and she doesn't share. But she's also a shockingly good poker player.
I won't even mention Binns. I haven't spent much time with Hooch or Babbling so I'd rather not speak on them. Madam Pomfrey and Hagrid are nice but much the same as the previous two. Filch can eat a brick.
TerribleTwins1 (Gryffindor) (Prankster) (Beater)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Is… Dumbledore the greatest prankster of all time?
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(Showing page 10 of 13)
WeightOfTheWorld (Professor) (Investor) (Coven Member #0)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
I'd say he has you two beat (sorry, boys)
TheYoungestRedhead (Gryffindor) (Weasley)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Wait, what's the deal with Professor Sprout's 'extracurriculars'? You can't possibly be talking about her tentacle-monster plants, right?
HeirLongbottom (Gryffindor)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
… I've been sworn to secrecy on that subject. I'm hoping to apprentice under her for 'production' after I graduate. I'm not throwing that chance away. Plus, she apparently tests her new strains on snitches.
SherlockBones (Hufflepuff)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
The same goes for all of Hufflepuff. Snitches get Dittany, Episkey, and bad trips…
WeightOfTheWorld (Professor) (Investor) (Coven Member #0)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
If you don't already know, Ginny, you don't want to find out. The Hogwarts Cartel doesn't mess about…
BlackWidow'sSon (Slytherin) (Seduction Runs in His Blood)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
I have another question for Professor Atlas. How did you react when you found out about your true heritage?
WeightOfTheWorld (Professor) (Investor) (Coven Member #0)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
I punched Sirius in the stomach.
GreenEyedGirl (Gryffindor) (Seeker) (Girl-Who-Lived)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
He did. It was mostly deserved.
LovelyFrenchBrat (Original Poster) (Guest) (Brat (Affectionate)) (French) (Coven Member #3)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
"And when he found out about me-!" - Bella
I've tastefully censored what happened next. Bella is currently pouting at me because she has absolutely no shame but I'd rather the inner workings of the coven not be shared so openly.
DrunkIrishman (Gryffindor) (Irish)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, Professor…?
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(Showing page 11 of 13)
WeightOfTheWorld (Professor) (Investor) (Coven Member #0)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
… I can explain.
BlackWidow'sSon (Slytherin) (Seduction Runs in His Blood)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Well, there's certainly no denying that he's a Black now.
Mummy'sLittleDragon (Slytherin) (Pure-Blood)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Is it wrong that I kind of… get it?
BlackWidow'sSon (Slytherin) (Seduction Runs in His Blood)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
And there's your daily reminder that Draco has Black blood running through his veins as well.
WeightOfTheWorld (Professor) (Investor) (Coven Member #0)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Right… I think that's just about enough questions for today.
IcePrincess (Slytherin) (Princess)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Wait, wait, one more! Please~, Big Bro Atlas~? *Puppy dog eyes*
WeightOfTheWorld (Professor) (Investor) (Coven Member #0)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
… Fine. So long as it's not about the coven. I'd like to remind you all that a coven is a very personal and private affair. But one more. Make it count, Astoria.
IcePrincess (Slytherin) (Princess)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Soooooooo~… is it true you like-… what's the Muggle word… goth girls?
IceQueen (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Story…
TracingDavis (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Hoh~? Is this what that bit earlier was all about, Daph~?
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Heather'sMinder (Gryffindor) (Brilliant But Scary)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Why would Atlas like girls from an extinct early-history Germanic people? I mean, sure they sacked Rome but I don't really see how that's relevant.
GreenEyedGirl (Gryffindor) (Seeker) (Girl-Who-Lived)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Hermione… That's not the type of Goth they're talking about. Do you really not know what a 'goth girl' is?
Heather'sMinder (Gryffindor) (Brilliant But Scary)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Huff* No. Honestly, I don't know everything. Even if it's supposed to be Muggle, I've never heard of 'goth' outside of the Germanic people and the gothic aesthetic of art and architecture.
GreenEyedGirl (Gryffindor) (Seeker) (Girl-Who-Lived)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Well, that second bit is pretty close to what they're referring to…
WeightOfTheWorld (Professor) (Investor) (Coven Member #0)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Think about the works of Bram Stoker or Edgar Allen Poe, Hermione. That kind of dark, gritty horror and those macabre themes. Mary Shelley embodied the modern goth aesthetic particularly well, especially the bit of trivia about how she lost her virginity on her mother's grave.
Now, imagine that aesthetic/style/attitude transitioned into the modern age with a focus on music, fashion, and dark expressionism. Piercings, tattoos, black clothing, experimental and non-conformist styles, you name it. It's honestly a much more interesting and nuanced scene than it is usually given credit for.
To answer Astoria… yes. I think the style is unique. I think the vibes are impeccable. And a girl who looks like she's just as likely to murder me as she is to kiss me gets my blood pumping.
HeirLongbottom (Gryffindor)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Huh… That description better not awaken anything in me…
SherlockBones (Hufflepuff)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
I'm sure it will be fine, Neville. On an unrelated note… Daphne? Do you have any dark makeup or clothes that I can borrow?
PettyPansy (Slytherin) (Not Not Neutral)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
I'm sorry, can we circle back around to the woman who lost her virginity on her mother's grave?! Because that is so fucking wicked!
IceQueen (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Goals…
IcePrincess (Slytherin) (Princess)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
Daaappphhh~nneeee~! If you murder Mom just so you can have sex with Atlas on her grave, I'm going to be very upset!
End of Page. 1, 2, 3… 10, 11, 12
(Showing page 13 of 13)
IceQueen (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Apr 1st 1995:
No promises…
End of Page. 1, 2, 3… 11, 12, 13
Spoiler: Svetlana
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Spoiler: Another Astoria pic
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Spoiler: Tonks' "true" form
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Love, A Goth Witch
"I can't believe I brought you in on this…" Daphne deadpanned.
"Believe it, Daph," Tracey Davis smirked. "You'd be lost without me."
"I would not."
"Totally would."
"Shut up…"
Tracey dropped her teasing for a moment, "I'm not going to tell anyone. You know that, right, Daph?"
Daphne eyed her best friend, "Of course. That doesn't mean you won't tease me yourself though."
"Maybe~…" Tracey sang.
"I knew I should have gone to Blaise…" Daphne sighed.
"Oh, please. Blaise would have shoved you into an evening gown he got from his mother. Wouldn't you rather have the comfortable and more importantly, stylish Muggle clothing I can provide?"
"…" Daphne made a point of not saying anything.
Tracey nodded, "That's what I thought. Plus this way you can play to your strengths. Not that you wouldn't look absolutely stunning in an evening gown. But Atlas has already said he's partial to your usual goth aesthetic. I'm just playing along with what you both like."
Again, Daphne said nothing. She was thankful for Tracey's help, after all. Without it, she wouldn't have half the clothes she did. And having someone to bounce outfit ideas off of was essential. No one else in the Castle understood the look Daphne was going for as Tracey did.
That help was already paying off too. Though Daphne's expression never shifted, she loved the clothes Tracey had chosen for her. And the makeup Tracey had helped her with. And the accessories. And even the… spicy lingerie… Though her face was frozen, Daphne could barely contain her excitement on the inside.
All the black contrasted well with her exceptionally pale skin. Black clothes, black lipstick, black eyeliner, Tracey hadn't been kidding when she said she was playing into the goth aesthetic. Daphne looked like she could be the front woman for a Muggle rock band and felt like she could take on the world!
Daphne's makeup was simple enough. The aforementioned black lipstick that Daphne nervously anticipated leaving as marks on Atlas' skin. A bit of blush to make her cheekbones pop and make her nose appear shiny and cuter. Black wings at the corners of her eyes that Tracey said helped give her bedroom eyes. A shaved slit in one of her eyebrows to make her look just that little bit more expressive. Not that it helped much…
The fishnet sleeves that covered her arms and the top half of her torso were Daphne's favorite part of her outfit. Fishnets really were the most wonderful clothing Muggles ever invented. They went under a strapless top with an almost corseted waistline. Perky breasts almost swelled out of containment and Daphne couldn't wait to feel her chest heave with excitement.
Then the shorts she wore… They were scandalous! Daphne's heart raced just putting them on. If her mother saw them, she'd either faint in shock or demand a pair of her own… They hugged her hips just so, gripping her curves in a way that sent her nerves tingling. Daphne was almost positive her bum was spilling out of the back of them as well.
A pair of thigh-high stockings covered her legs, connected to and held up by leather-strap garters. Just a taste of smooth, pale skin peeked out above them.
Spoiler: Daphne fit inspiration pics
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bonus
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Temporary tattoo designs decorated parts of her body, mostly meaningless lines and spirals that she thought looked good. Tracey was especially excited about the one below her navel, just above her womb…
A thin lace choker encircled Daphne's slender neck. She was hoping to make good on her joking invitation to Atlas when they first discussed their betrothal.
And below Daphne's outfit, even more enticement was prepared to be laid bare. Lace. Beautiful, tempting lace. The panties made Daphne rub her thighs together in anticipation. Crotchless… What would the Muggles think of next?
Daphne Greengrass was a vision of gothic beauty and seduction. She'd never felt like this before. She knew she was pretty. Hell, she knew she was beautiful. But she'd never worn an outfit like this with a single, sexy intention.
Daphne had pretty much made up her mind regarding her betrothal. She wasn't ready to get married. She wouldn't be for a good while. But she thought she was just about ready to finalize things. To set their arrangement in stone.
Nervous energy still plagued her mind though. Atlas' reaction to her today would decide everything for good. Daphne didn't even know what exactly she was hoping for. She just knew it would put to rest any second thoughts she might have.
"Do you want anything more? Or is this fine? Are you sure about this, Daph?" Tracey worried over her, dusting invisible dust from her clothes.
"Tracey, I'll be fine," Daphne said, her monotone hiding the same nerves Tracey showed.
"I know you will, Daph…" Tracey sighed. "Professor Atlas won't hurt you. I'm just worried I'll lose my best friend after all of this."
"I'm not getting married. The most that will happen is our courting will be formalized and perhaps made public. He's left this decision to me and I feel I owe him an actual answer."
"That's the problem, Daph! Pansy might actually kill you in jealousy when she finds out!"
"She can try…" Daphne's dead delivery made her words more menacing than they really were.
"There's my little goth girl~" Tracey teased. "He'll love you, Daph."
Daphne fixed her with a flat glare, "I'm more than black lipstick and a choker, Tracey."
Tracey laughed, "I know that, Daph! But those seem to be Atlas' favorite parts! So have fun. Don't do anything I wouldn't do~!"
"Considering what I know you and Blaise get up to, that doesn't narrow things down very much…"
"That's why I said it, baby~! And here. This should get you out of the common room and wherever you're going without being seen."
Tracey handed Daphne a shimmering piece of fabric. An invisibility cloak. Tracey really could get anything into Hogwarts. And it solved a problem that Daphne hadn't thought about. Namely, walking around the Castle looking like this. Her current look was intended for Atlas' eyes only.
She wrapped the relatively cheap, temporary invisibility cloak around her. As she disappeared, her voice whispered through the room, "… Thank you."
With that, Daphne was gone, slipping unseen through the door to Tracey's dorm room. Tracey stayed behind, shaking her head, "Silly, silly girl. She doesn't even know she's already head over heels… Still… I have another pair of those panties… I wonder if Blaise is feeling up for a quickie or two or three?"
Daphne ghosted her way through the Slytherin Common Room. She passed Pansy, scribbling on her WWO parchment. Peeking over her shoulder, Daphne saw the secretive thirst thread dedicated to 'Professor Atlas, Heir Black'. She was just a bit ashamed to say she knew it well. Just to familiarize herself with the discussion surrounding her betrothed-to-be, of course…
Nothing else… She definitely wasn't the top contributor to the thread's anonymous collection of Wizarding photos…
Though, perhaps Tracey had a point. Pansy might actually try to kill her when she found out about Daphne's courtship with Atlas. Well, there was a 50-50 chance that she would try to kill Daphne or ask her for help with her own pursuit… Either way, that situation would require careful diplomacy.
Putting that out of her mind for later, Daphne made her way out of the Common Room. Under the cover of the cloak, she made her way out of the dungeons and up to the Castle's main stairway. From there, she made her way up to the Seventh Floor.
Daphne was pretty sure she wasn't supposed to know that the Room Atlas took her to was on the Seventh Floor. But in the chaos of that day, after they watched the movie, he forgot to obscure their location from her. She'd followed him as he ran for the Great Hall, tracking their progress along the way.
In the end, it worked out in her favor. She didn't have to spend time searching the entire Castle for that one hallway. She wasn't even entirely sure he would be there. But it was the first place she was looking for him. His quarters were second. But she hoped to catch him alone.
Fate shined down on her. She came to that hallway on the Seventh Floor to find a lonely door across from a tapestry. Taking a deep breath, Daphne shed her cloak and slipped inside.
Daphne immediately came upon a scene that would have seen Atlas arrested by the Ministry. The interior of the room was dim, lit only by candles and esoteric glowing lines on the floor. The lines spiraled in on themselves, forming a circle that Daphne couldn't begin to recognize. All she knew was it had to be the basis of some ritual or another.
But she trusted Atlas. At the very least, she trusted him not to do something as stupid as summoning Demons or Outsiders. And in truth, she trusted him a lot more than that. There was a reasonable explanation for this. She knew that much.
As a Pure-Blood, Daphne knew Ritual Magic wasn't the demonized discipline that the Ministry's laws made it out to be. It had many uses. Some dark, some light, and most firmly in between the two extremes.
Atlas sat in the middle of the ritual circle, the obvious focus of whatever he was trying to accomplish. The lines of ash and salt glowed with pink light. His magic swirled in the air. The Room added to the maelstrom. All that energy - enough to set Daphne's hair on end - funneled directly into Atlas and his core.
Then something went wrong. The world seemed to stutter for the briefest of moments. The lights flared. The magic pouring into Atlas exploded in reverse. The energy in the air died with a whimper.
Daphne couldn't keep herself from running to Atlas' side. Well, almost… She wasn't foolish enough to cross the ritual circle around him. But as the Ritual Magic faded and Atlas was left seemingly unharmed, Daphne slowly began to calm down.
"Hmmm, that went a bit wrong…" Atlas muttered to himself, standing and stretching without opening his eyes.
"That seemed like it was rather stupid," Daphne deadpanned.
Atlas jumped slightly, "Daphne?! Merlin, warn a guy, will you? Actually, how are you even here?"
"I just walked in. The door is visible. And you were a bit too busy to keep this room a secret the last time we were here together," Daphne explained.
"Ah… Yeah, I forgot about that…" Atlas said sheepishly.
"So… Why are you doing rituals? Alone. Without anyone to supervise or help if something goes wrong. Like it just did…" There was a warning in Daphne's flat tone.
"Training, experimentation, and research," Atlas replied, seemingly not ashamed of his ill-thought-out endeavors. "It's something I have to do. Sure, I could have been smarter about it but I'd rather not expose the others to the unfortunate side effects of my inevitable failures."
"Side effects…?"
"Yeah, but it's not as bad as it sounds. This ritual is the only one I plan on practicing unsupervised. Well, unsupervised if you don't count the Room and the fact that Hogwarts is watching… It's complex but utterly harmless. Even when failed, the worst that can happen is-… Oh… There it is…"
"Oh? There's what?" Daphne was starting to grow concerned again.
"That… was a Recovery Ritual…" Atlas forced out through gritted teeth. "Meant to… help… recover stamina, desire, and reinforce the body…"
"And as the only man in a coven of seven Witches, I assume you have to do that ritual regularly," Daphne nodded, catching on quickly.
"Not… usually… Again, I was experimenting," Atlas continued haltingly. "But as you saw… it backfired. Don't quite know why right now… Not important…"
"What's important right now is the side effects," Daphne agreed.
"Ex-actly… Rampaging desire… Dramatically increased physical stamina before a sudden crash… A complete loss of control in the unprepared… Whatever you came here for, we should probably take a raincheck on it for now…" Atlas squeezed his eyes shut.
His face scrunched up in concentration. His jaw was tight. Seemingly every muscle in his body tensed. Daphne watched as Atlas struggled to maintain control of himself. Corded forearms flexed beneath rolled-up sleeves. Veins stood out against the exposed portions of his skin, running up those powerful arms. Atlas was quickly turned into a tightly wound ball of tension, fighting the fire that raged inside him. And Daphne suddenly found her nerves set alight by similar flames.
"… No."
Atlas' eyes shot open, revealing that fire behind his irises, and he growled out a warning, "Daphne~…"
"Am I not desirable?" She asked, stepping closer now that the ritual circle was inert.
"Of course, you are… ! But… the ritual… the side effects…"
"Am I not willing?"
"Are you?" Atlas shot back a challenge.
"I am," Daphne confirmed blandly and nonchalantly. "If you can hold yourself back this much, I think you deserve my help. I'm willing to help you relieve the side effects of your stupidly botched ritual."
"Isn't this… too much…?" Atlas tried to give her one last out, seemingly more for his sake than hers. "Too far…? Too fast…?"
Daphne shook her head, "It was planned. Well… mostly. I came to find you today for a reason. Your labored restraint here just helped me confirm my decision."
His eyes closed again. A visible shiver ran up his spine. His hands fluttered at his sides, trying futilely as an outlet for the energy pent up inside him. A rip tore through the charged air between them.
Looking for the source, Daphne saw that Atlas' pants had given up the ghost of keeping his desire contained. A long, thick bulge ran down one of his legs. The seams at his crotch had all but ripped open.
For the first time in hours, Daphne's facial expression changed. Her eyes rose in surprise. It was a small movement but on Daphne's icy visage, it spoke wonders. Her stomach flipped and fluttered. Her mind stuttered to a stop before restarting. Something flared, throwing sparks every which way and setting everything else inside her alight.
Atlas spoke again in a low rumble that Daphne felt in her core, "Daphne… If you have any objections - any at all - to me ravishing you right here, right now… I need you to say something. If not, I'm going to do something drastic, graphic, and intensely enjoyable for both of us…"
"Hmm…" Daphne hummed flatly. "One question first. What did you think of my outfit?"
Atlas' eyes shot open. He looked her up and down. Daphne felt his gaze. Hot. Heavy. Her skin prickled and tingled. Not an inch of her body was spared. The heat in her core may as well have been magma. Thick, viscous, deep, and hot enough to scald her insides.
Atlas growled, " I bloody love it~!"
He surged forward. Daphne barely had enough time to open her arms to welcome him. A hand went to the back of her neck, fingers burying in the hair at the base of her head. She found herself in the air without a clue how she'd gotten there. Her legs wrapped around Atlas' waist anyway.
His lips smothered her. His tongue sieged down her defenses. His body burned against hers. She tried desperately to match his passion. She never stood a chance.
As quickly as she was washed away, the pull of passion became gentle. The initial fierce movement of his lips slowed. His tongue almost lazily coaxed hers into his mouth. He pulled her tight to him. She felt every flex of his hard body against her. The heat between them smoldered. Daphne still felt like she could barely breathe.
Her chest heaved against Atlas'. Her legs locked together behind his back. She ground her hips against his pelvis. Daphne didn't even realize they were moving until Atlas sat down, settling her into his lap.
The bulge of his trapped cock pressed against her bum. Even through the fabric, she could feel how hard he was. He could have split steel. What could that hardness do to her soft body…? Daphne shivered. Her scandalous shorts were practically soaked through.
Atlas slowly pulled away from her. Daphne tried to follow for more. He held her in place but didn't go far, only moving to rest his forehead against hers. They both took a moment to catch their breath.
Even now, Daphne barely felt her expression twitch. She cursed her face internally. She wasn't emotionless. She'd never felt anything as intensely as this moment. What… what if he got the wrong idea? She'd just have to make sure there couldn't be any misunderstandings…
"I am enjoying myself," Daphne stated plainly, her voice as monotone as ever.
Atlas - the bastard - laughed in surprise, "Haha~! Are you now?"
If eyes could pout, Daphne's would have, "This is no laughing matter. I'm telling you that you have my enthusiastic consent to continue."
He just smirked, "Well, I suppose that's a good thing because I have no intention of stopping any time soon."
"Yes. I agree. It is a good thing," Daphne said matter-of-factly.
Atlas tilted her head to the side and kissed his way down her neck, "You're a… very interesting girl… Daphne… you know that?"
Daphne's reply was whispered and breathy as she tried to keep from squirming at the touch of his lips, "I-I try…"
The steel beneath her throbbed. Too-hot lips trailed fire across her skin. Her fingers threaded through his hair. Little whines and whimpers escaped her with each kiss. Atlas nipped at her neck. Daphne ground her core along his length.
Stoic as her facial expression was, Daphne's enjoyment was clear to see. Atlas could feel the wet heat from her crotch. He could feel the way her body trembled at his touch. He could hear the breathy noises trapped behind her closed lips. Her face said nothing but her body language, the way she moved against him, told a very different story.
Atlas almost regretted it when he started to work Daphne out of her clothes. It was a wonderful outfit. The style, the way it clung to her body, it was a masterpiece. In the end, he compromised, only discarding some of the clothes and keeping others.
He unlaced the corset-like top, pulling it off her. Daphne's chest heaved, her breasts shuddering and jiggling behind the 'bars' of their fishnet prison.
The fishnets were one of the pieces that got to stay. They crisscrossed her torso, standing out against the paleness of her skin. The swell of her chest stretched them, not too big or too small, instead perfect, perky handfuls for Atlas.
He didn't bother moving her from his lap to take off her shorts. They were vanished with a simple wave of his hand. Daphne gasped. The soaked, silky fabric no longer clung to her crotch or rode up between her cheeks. All that covered her now was the silly bit of lace the Muggles called panties. They didn't do a good job.
The stockings and garters got to stay as well. Atlas ran his hands up her legs. His nails raked lightly along the soft fabric. Fingers danced across her exposed skin when he reached the top. He circled her hip until her ass was in his hands. Large palms cupped her and Daphne felt herself laid bare at his mercy.
Daphne tried to keep her cool, "Y-You seem to be overdressed, Atlas."
All she got in return was that insufferably charming smirk, "Am I? I'm rather comfortable right now, actually."
She knew he was teasing her. Her eye definitely didn't twitch, "I would prefer if you would match the state of your clothing with mine."
"Oh? I'm afraid I don't have any fishnets though. Or these wonderful stockings and garters. Or-… Daphne, are those crotchless panties…? My my, how risque~"
The embarrassed and excited heat she felt inside never reached her cheeks, "… I will strangle you, Atlas."
"Kinky~ I welcome you to try. Where's the fun of sleeping with a goth girl if she doesn't try to kill you at least once?"
"Shut up and kiss me."
Atlas chuckled, leaning forward until his lips were an inch from hers, "Gladly~"
Daphne was the one to close the gap this time. She tried to take initiative. Almost immediately, she failed. Before she realized it, she was on the back foot again, yielding to Atlas' tongue.
He ravished her lips, leaving Daphne swollen and pleasantly bruised. Daphne just found herself craving more. His tongue dueled hers into submission. Long, nimble fingers traced her curves. Electricity sparked between them.
Acting on pure instinct, she took the hand at the back of her neck and wrapped it around her throat. Atlas squeezed lightly as if asking permission. Daphne practically poured her body over his, moaning enthusiastically. The grip on her slender neck tightened slightly and Daphne discovered the joys of erotic asphyxiation.
Daphne was breathless when they separated again. In the best of ways, she was now finding out. Her airflow wasn't actually cut off. But there was that hint of something amazing there. Danger and excitement raced through her veins. The pressure around her throat felt ~so good~!
From what she felt against her bum, Atlas thought so as well. His hardness was practically molded to the curve of her ass. She could feel his pulse even through the increasingly flimsy fabric of his pants. She absently wiggled her hips on it and felt herself almost drool as it throbbed just so.
"So…" Still, her face was impassive and as deadpan as her voice. "Would you like to snap my choker?"
Atlas blinked, "I don't think that's physically possible, Daphne. I thought that was just a joke."
Daphne looked him in the eye, dead serious, "You'll never know until you try."
That seemed to convince Atlas, "Right… Tap my thigh three times or snap if it gets to be too much for you."
Daphne nodded and slipped from his lap to descend between his knees. Atlas' clothes disappeared a moment later. That rockhard rod Daphne had been feeling was suddenly bouncing right in front of her face.
It was so thick… So intimidating, looming over her like a tower to the sky… Daphne had never wanted anything so much. He would ruin her. The heat in her core roared into an inferno at that thought.
Her face was blank and clear of the emotions rampaging inside her, "Oh my…"
"Open," Atlas commanded.
Daphne obeyed, letting her tongue loll out slightly. She felt like her breath should have been misting in the air. She was so hot. Other than her open mouth, her expression never twitched.
Atlas took himself in hand and angled his cock at her waiting tongue. He slapped it there once and twice. Daphne could feel the sheer weight of his meat. It filled her with anticipation. A slightly salty, musky taste leaked onto her tastebuds.
Daphne just hummed. On the outside, she almost looked bored. Inside, she was practically vibrating with excitement. She could literally taste him. Looking up at him, only the firm look in his eyes kept her from diving forward for more.
His free hand came down to wrap around her throat again. Daphne all but melted then and there. Slowly, carefully, and with a firm grip, Atlas dragged her head forward. The tip of his cock breached her lips. Pillows spread wide to accommodate it. She had to swallow her drool. Her expression never changed.
Daphne suckled. Her tongue swiped here and there. His cock felt like molten iron, hot and heavy in her mouth. A core of steel ran through its length. Soft, silken skin wrapped around that steel.
Atlas' essence dripped from his tip onto her tongue and down her throat. Daphne was served a feast and she swallowed eagerly and submissively. It was ~delicious~.
She forced herself to relax. Atlas pushed forward further. She swallowed. She lavished every inch of him she could reach with sweeping swipes of her tongue. He pushed to the back of her mouth and she accepted him into her throat. She'd practiced for this exact moment.
He slid into a smooth, wet cavern, feeling it contract and convulse around him as Daphne swallowed. Atlas' head almost fell backward. It would have if not for how enthralled he was by the sight before him. The contrast between Daphne's placid face and the debaucherous act she was performing… It made something inside him clench hard.
He throbbed in her mouth. He pushed deeper. Daphne swallowed happily and easily. Her throat stretched. She could feel the bulge of his progress on her skin. Atlas was practically gripping his cock through her neck.
A puddle pooled on the floor between Daphne's legs. She was dripping. He was so thick in her throat. She couldn't even gag. Her pussy pulsed. The fire in her core engulfed her whole body at this point.
She held Atlas' gaze. Her eyes never wavered, just like her expression. Even as her lips were stretched as wide as they'd ever been. Even as inch after inch of throbbing shaft was buried in her throat. Even as her airflow was cut off for real and her core clenched like never before.
"Oh, fuck… !" Atlas muttered, shuddering.
He fully sheathed himself in her throat. Her lips kissed the root of his cock. Her neck bulged slightly beneath his hand. From both inside and out, Atlas could feel her swallow. Daphne tried to hum. All that came out was a soft gurgle.
Atlas still groaned as her throat vibrated around him, "F-Fuck, Daphne~… That's not even fair!"
Flat blue eyes stared back at him. Atlas shuddered again, the slight movement running all the way up his spine. The seemingly emotionless expression on her face… The black-painted lips stretched around his girth… His hand holding her neck… The fishnets covering her chest like paradise trapped behind bars… Everything came together perfectly.
The whole scene was a work of art. Daphne was the muse. Dark colors and gothic themes wrapped around a core of lewdness and debauchery. Impossibly smooth muscles gripped and swallowed him. Wet and oh-so-slick, the heat was almost unbearable.
Then he began to move. Plump lips were dragged along his shaft. The silken heat slowly disappeared inch by inch. Pleasure was pulled straight from his nerves.
His hips bucked, driving him forward again. Almost instantly, he was swallowed back into sloppy Nirvana. Daphne just blinked up at him, seemingly unaffected. The emotionless yet evocative scene drove Atlas' arousal even higher.
Though her face didn't show it, Daphne eagerly submitted herself to Atlas' will. His desire fed hers. Liquid heat ran down her thighs. Her stockings must have been soaked. Her practice was paying off. A mighty pillar, tamed by her well-trained throat and taming her in return. She'd have to thank Tracey for the 'Conjure Dildo' spell.
Atlas' hips could barely control themselves. They pulled back and thrust in a near-constant motion. His shaft plundered Daphne's throat for every ounce of pleasure, both his and hers. His balls struck her chin with each hilting. Her head glided up and down the invading length. She barely gagged, looking as calm and collected as she always did.
Eventually, Atlas' movements stuttered to a stop. He pulled back one last time with a groan. His cock sprang from Daphne's lips with a pop. She looked up at him with a question in her eyes but she didn't try to follow. His hand around her throat kept her more than satisfied in her place for now.
"I… I don't think we're going to snap your choker, Daphne," Atlas said. "And I'd rather save my climax for another pair of lips…"
"That's-…" Daphne coughed slightly and primly cleared her throat. "Ahem… That's a shame. Though I suppose I wouldn't mind moving things along as well. The 'choker-snapping' can wait until I've done more research and discovered a method to make it a reality."
Atlas bit back another groan at that idea, "Yeah… You do that. For now though… I think you deserve a little love too."
He pulled her up. Daphne followed the direction of his hand on her neck. She stood on surprisingly shaky legs, leaning into Atlas' support. The mess that gathered below her while she kneeled went uncommented upon. Daphne looked at Atlas expectantly.
"Right," Atlas concentrated for a moment.
The chair that appeared when they started shifted. Suddenly, a large bed took its place. Atlas sat again, pulling Daphne with him. He laid back and she mounted him.
Skin touched skin. Her stocking-clad thighs sandwiched his waist. Her hands came up to rest firmly on his strong chest. His hand never left her neck, to Daphne's unending approval. His solid steel rod, now coated in Daphne's drool, settled into the cleft of her bum.
Daphne raised a purposeful eyebrow, "As much as I appreciate the sentiment, I think I've established that I would like you to take control here."
"I will," Atlas reassured. "But I want to watch your face as you take me all on your own."
The tiniest hint of pink colored her cheeks and Daphne whispered softly, "Pervert…"
"Oh? Should I add handholding into the mix as well?" Atlas smiled in that lopsided, teasing way that sent her tummy fluttering.
Daphne almost glared down at him, "Shut up and choke me, Atlas."
"As you wish~"
Ignoring his cheek, Daphne raised her hips. She felt Atlas' cock slide down until it pressed between her plump lower lips. The tip spread them just enough to make her shiver. She wiggled her hips slightly, holding her perch there for a moment.
Daphne began her descent, holding Atlas' gaze. If he wanted to see her face, she'd show him everything. The focus she saw there in his eyes - on her and her alone - had her preening inside. She was the only thing in his world.
She pushed herself down. His cockhead split her open. More and more, she stretched around his girth. Nothing could have prepared her for this feeling. So big… So hot… So hard… It was as if he was driving to the core of her being.
Halfway down his length, Daphne paused. She was empty. She was full. She was on fire. She was shivering and shuddering as if she was cold. She was everything, everywhere, all at once. And for once, Daphne's face reflected what she felt inside.
Atlas watched Daphne descend with the focus of a thousand men. His eyes flitted here and there, taking in everything. Every twitch of her lips. Every blink and flutter of her eyelids. Every bit of color that crept onto her cheeks. He committed Daphne to memory. The scene was a future Patronus in the making.
He realized something as Daphne paused. She had to be one of the most emotional people he'd ever met. It wasn't standard. It wasn't typical. But if you knew what to look for, the clues were there. She was expressively non-expressive but that just made every hint of her inner emotions all the more meaningful.
Something dangerous and enticing sparkled in her eyes as she came to terms with the sensations. Suddenly, she pushed herself down the rest of the way. Atlas filled her completely. Her bubbly bum bounced on his thighs. A clap sounded from the force.
From tip to base, Atlas was wrapped in a vise of silk. His cock throbbed in time with Daphne's heartbeat. He stretched her wide, filled her deep, and made her feel so utterly whole and complete.
"How…" Daphne paused, her monotone faltering with a dainty pant. "How was that? Satisfied, Atlas?"
"More than satisfied," Atlas replied. "You did good. I'll take it from here."
Still partially reeling from sheer sensation, Daphne felt anticipation bloom in her breast. She wasn't disappointed. Atlas took hold of her hips. Daphne found herself on her back moments later. She barely even felt him move and somehow they were still literally connected at the hip.
She blinked, "O-Oh my…"
Even in her slightly dazed state, Daphne's hands sought out one of Atlas' hands. She dragged it back to her neck, encouraging him to hold her so intimately and dangerously again. A keening moan tried to escape her throat as he did.
The hand around her neck made her clench around Atlas' cock. Her legs naturally wrapped around his waist and squeezed. She unconsciously tried to pull him impossibly deeper into her depths. He throbbed and flexed inside her. Daphne let out a little breathless gasp.
His free hand stroked down her body, following her curves. Daphne pushed her chest up into his touch. Her back almost arched off the bed. Atlas caressed the swell of her hip. His fingers wandered over her center. He traced the intricate design he found there above her womb.
"What's this, Daphne?"
Daphne stifled a whimper at his gentle fingers, "Tracey called it a 'womb tattoo'. She said you would like it… D-Do you…?"
Atlas hummed, "For some reason I can't quite place, yes. Yes, I like it very much."
Daphne's expression and tone flattened in excitement, "Oh… Good. Very good. I may just have to keep it then."
Atlas just chuckled, knowing better what hints to look for now to divine her true emotions, "Only if you want to. I can even do it for you myself."
A shiver ran through Daphne at that idea, "… I'll keep that in mind."
"I did Heather's and Hermione's tattoos. They did mine. We can include the same enhancements."
"I didn't take them for the type. Well… maybe Potter."
"Just something to think about. We've got more important things to take care of at the moment~"
Atlas flexed his cock inside her as he said that. Daphne's pussy replied for her, squeezing around the flexing rod of pure heat. She almost blushed as she realized her body was more responsive and expressive than her face. He smirked at her, seemingly unbothered by that realization.
Daphne was reminded of the hand around her throat as it tightened slightly. It felt so comfortable there, so right, that she'd forgotten she was being choked.
The strength of his hand sent her mind tittering and spinning. Daphne was sure her eyes were swirling spirals of depravity and lewdness. Atlas began to pull away from her. Her legs tried to keep him in place. They didn't slow him down at all.
Daphne felt so weak, so open, so vulnerable to Atlas' desires. Even without magic, he overpowered her just so. But his grip was never too tight. His movements were never too fast.
He gave her exactly what she wanted and not an ounce more that might have made her uncomfortable. He could have done anything he wanted with her at that moment. She would have taken it and begged for more.
Atlas didn't thrust forward. His hips rolled. Daphne was filled so smoothly and naturally that she gasped. It was languid. It was intense. Sensation surged through her nerves. Pleasure flooded her veins.
They fit together so snugly. His cock pulled pure fire from her core. And yet, the movements were almost cozy. She felt like she could let everything go and fall into the simple motion of their bodies. His hips rolled against hers. Her legs hugged him to her even as he drew away for another thrust.
Her inner walls stretched over and over again. Ecstasy played across her whole body. She was split open by silk-wrapped steel. So much of Atlas penetrated Daphne, reaching for her core. Her body opened, like a blooming flower in many ways, willingly accepting him into her depths.
Daphne felt herself laid bare with every thrust. The most that showed on her face was a few pants and soft moans. But she knew Atlas could feel every twitch and spasm from the rest of her body.
She knew he could feel how she clenched around him and clung to him like she never wanted to let go. She knew he could feel the way her legs shook as he ground his pubic bone against her clit.
She let herself go, uncaring of the way her face didn't show even half the things she felt. Atlas saw her hidden emotions anyway. He felt them. Daphne couldn't hide anything behind an icy facade anymore and didn't want to.
Daphne came and came undone. Even as she moaned, her usual expression barely shifted. It was a lovely contrast for Atlas. He could feel her cumming around him. Yet her face was carved from ice, beautiful and stoic in the face of utter ecstasy.
Atlas' hips slowed. He dragged Daphne through her orgasm, savoring every moment of it. Every twitch, every squeeze, and every gush of fluids around the base of his cock. Her body was an instrument and Atlas brought it to climax like he was reading off a sheet of music.
"Ready for more~?" Atlas asked when Daphne finally stopped shaking.
"Oh, Merlin, Atlas~…" Daphne mumbled, her voice as soft as can be. "… Harder."
"What was that?"
"Harder. We've done slow and gentle. It was great. Amazing. Now, choke me harder. Make me scream. See if you can break my facial expression. Fuck. Me. Up. Atlas."
At a loss for words, Atlas just stared at her, nearly gaping. Daphne glared back at him. What she'd requested slowly filtered into his brain and the gears inside started moving again.
"I-… Okay. Same 'safe' signals as before?"
"Atlas… If I can still breathe in three seconds, I'm going to make sure you can't."
Somehow, that threat just made Atlas' cock throb inside her even more. She felt his hand start to really squeeze. Daphne gasped involuntarily. Her airflow was completely cut off for the first time since he wrapped his hand around her throat. Her eyes rolled back slightly. She came again immediately.
Even as she came, Atlas drew his hips back. He drove himself forward. Then again and again without paying a bit of mind to her continued consecutive orgasms. Daphne squirted, adding more lube to Atlas' thrusts.
He pounded down into her body. Her legs followed as their position shifted, rising up his back. Eventually, they came unlocked, spasming and shaking with each mind-shattering thrust.
Atlas pulled one onto his shoulder and shoved the other to the side. Daphne's body was spread open for him, her legs at 90-degree angles. He hugged the raised one to his chest and slammed into her over and over again.
Her whole body shook with the force. She couldn't breathe. Her depths molded into the shape of Atlas' cock. She couldn't breathe! Her body would never be the same again. She couldn't stop cumming~!
Choked gasps escaped Daphne's lips as Atlas' hand loosened and tightened with his movements. Her hands clutched it, desperately holding it in place.
Her brain sparked and fizzled, exploded and stuttered. The world flashed around her. Daphne felt like she would break at any moment and loved every second of it~!
For once, her face fully reflected her emotions. Her eyes rolled. Pink hearts seemed to appear there out of magic itself. Her mouth fell open, gasping for air. Her tongue lolled. The Ice Queen cracked.
Atlas gritted his teeth, driving through his building pleasure. Daphne's pussy clung to every inch of him. Impossibly wet and impossibly tight, Daphne took everything he had to give. His hips thrust like a powered piston. Their bodies slammed together, beating the drum of ecstasy to a crescendo.
Daphne clenched constantly. Atlas throbbed in reply. Her pussy pulsed from clit to womb. His balls churned and roiled. Lewd squelches and wet claps filled the air. Everything built and built and built until their whole world exploded with euphoric fanfare.
A star was born in Daphne's core. Atlas felt his soul leave his body. Their legs seized up, toes curling as hard as they possibly could. A sheer torrent of seed spilled from Atlas to fill Daphne's depths. Spurt after spurt, the flood was never-ending.
They were both panting when they finally began to come down from their peaks. Atlas loosened his grip on Daphne's neck. Daphne whined as the pressure relaxed. She still held his hand there, unwilling to give up the physical contact just yet.
Slowly, the ice of Daphne's facial expression refroze. Her breathing slowed. Her eyes refocused. Soon, there was no sign she had shown any emotion ever.
"Tsk, that's a shame…" Atlas tutted absently.
"At… least you tried…" Daphne said.
"I succeeded," Atlas shot back. "I saw that ice crack. I'll just have to make it happen again~…"
"You're… not done…?" Daphne asked, worried and excited by the prospect in equal measure.
Atlas smirked, "Not even close. Side effects of the botched recovery ritual, remember?"
Daphne hummed, her stomach fluttering, "Hmm, very well. Let's see if you can thaw my 'ice' any further…"
"Gladly~" Atlas agreed before squeezing her throat lightly with a question. "Again?"
Daphne stared up at him flatly, "… Yes, again. Always again, Atlas. Choke me and fuck me until I can't feel my toes."
"As you wish, my betrothed~"
He started moving again and Daphne quickly stopped caring about anything else. His hand around her neck and his cock deep inside her were all she needed right now. She couldn't see the ghostly message that popped up before Atlas' eyes and even if she could, she wouldn't have cared. It was dismissed moments later anyway…
New Coven Member Initiated Coven Members (8): Septima Vector, Luna Lovegood, Gabrielle Delacour, Bellatrix Black, Aurora Sinistra, Hermione Granger, Heather Potter, Daphne Greengrass
5 to Persuasion
Persuasion 405=45/100
2 to Ritual Magic
Ritual Magic 492=51/100
36: Family of Veela
I ducked. I dodged. I dived. I danced. Spells rocketed around me. One zipped past my face. I heard it crackle. I felt the air warp in its path. The smell of ozone and magic briefly shocked my senses.
Most of my mind was understandably preoccupied but I recognized the Lightning Spell when I saw it. An absent part of me wondered why it moved slower than actual lightning. I shouldn't have been able to dodge that without some form of combat precognition otherwise. And I wasn't nearly that good with Divination.
Barks of "Constant Vigilance!" filled the Room. The spells themselves were cast silently. The only warning I had each time was the twitch of a wand. Add another wand casting just a touch less fiercely and I was hard-pressed to keep up.
The flames of an Incendio roasted the air where my head just was. I dropped to the ground and rolled on my side. Even with my physical stats, I didn't have enough time to get to my feet the usual way. A wandless Banisher to the floor fixed that problem.
A quick Stunner was hurled at the space I should have occupied if I stood naturally. The recoil from my Banisher raised me into the air quicker than it could arrive. My legs tucked me into a ball. I landed in a forward roll, dodging the next Stunner that was tracking my movements.
I didn't have time to think about what I was doing. My body was just reacting. Paradoxically, that left me with a lot of time to absently ponder things like the Lightning Spell problem. Or whether Tonks could use her powers to change her body internally or if it was just an external change with magic taking care of the fiddly stuff. Purely for academic purposes, of course…
Meanwhile, my body moved faster than any Human should have been able to. I wasn't so much stepping as I was kicking the ground. Each kick sent me flying as if I'd stepped thrice. The only issue was controlling that sudden momentum. It was a skill I was naturally forced to practice as this exercise got more and more intense.
It made me wonder why every Wizard and Witch didn't take advantage of the physical side of magic. Some obviously did. Moody and Tonks hadn't been surprised when I started moving supernaturally. So Aurors likely trained their bodies to this extent at least somewhat. And I'd seen a Wizarding photo of one of Flitwick's professional duels from start to finish. There was no way they could move like that if they weren't tapping into some kind of physical magic.
But I'd never heard of this phenomenon being explored. It seemed Wizards and Witches took magic's physical assistance for granted. Or maybe they just thought nothing of their Aurors being on par with literal Gold-medalist Olympians.
To be fair, I could already imagine the response I'd get if I raised the subject. "Of course, we're faster/stronger/more fit/better than the average Muggle without even trying." That kind of thing…
Magic wasn't just used to enhance physical movements and feats though. It had to inextricably change a Witch or Wizard's physiology. Quidditch players for example. Their ability to withstand low-fighter-pilot-level G-forces wasn't impossible. Merely peak Human. But to do so for a whole career without experiencing spinal problems of any kind? That was where magic had to come into play.
The inquisitive side of my brain wondered what an extended study of Quidditch players would find. Particularly Seekers. Was magic reinforcing their spines as they encountered intense G-forces in a sort of adaptive evolution? A project for when this was all over, perhaps. I was certainly looking forward to the break this summer would offer after Voldemort was taken care of.
My mind wandered from topic to topic. My body reacted instinctively, rocking and rolling with everything Moody and Tonks could throw at me.
A short pause before I kicked off again. A spell shot through where I would have been. A change of direction and a dip of my torso. Another singed the air above my head.
The grouping of the spells grew progressively tighter. My dodges narrowed. They were catching on to my habits. I didn't have time to plan how I would switch them up.
My magic cycled through my body. My reactions quickened. They were still boxing me in, moving around the room for better casting positions. My focus was sharp, my instincts sharper. My thoughts were quiet for once-… Oo, I haven't seen that one before!
Fuck-! My curiosity at seeing a new spell cost me precious moments. Too close to dodge now. It would clip my side no matter how fast I moved. And I wasn't allowed to use Shield Charms for this whole exercise.
My hand moved in a blur. It was coated in my magic, resting just above my skin, before I thought about what I was doing. I'd done this before. But only with a wand. Even then it was tricky. Still, I was committed.
I swatted the spell with all of the frustration I felt at losing my focus. It wasn't like hitting something solid, liquid, or even gaseous. There was a bit of give to it and a lack of something else. Tangibility and intangibility? Essence and non-essence?
Something impossible to place in an instant. It was there but like it was not quite in sync with our reality yet. At the same time, it was constantly in flux, potential energy made manifest.
I focused on the spell bouncing. I pumped more magic than I usually used for spell deflection into my hand. It worked. For the briefest of moments, a void was left against the second skin of magic I'd created. Then the reality around it came rushing back in with a crack. The spell disappeared and a wall to my left erupted into colorful sparks.
Moody and Tonks paused. I did as well. The world seemed to stutter. None of us were expecting that to work as well as it did. The next spell was still already in motion. It hit me in the leg and I felt myself fall. Thankfully, it was only a harmless Tripping Jinx.
I landed on my bum in disbelief, "Oof!"
"So…" Tonks drawled. "Did you mean to do that?"
"Uh, yeah…" I confirmed. "I didn't want to get hit by whatever that was. And I got distracted by trying to figure out what that… 'whatever' was."
"Ah, there was your mistake," Moody nodded in realization. "I thought something happened. You were doin' good, kid."
"Still lost though, didn't I?" I grumbled.
Moody barked a laugh, "This isn't really an exercise you win. You just last as long as you can. Even this one can't last more than 30 minutes and most of my Aurors couldn't make it 5. 19 minutes is a time to be proud of, Black."
Tonks puffed herself up, proud as can be, "Yep, still not better than me though, Atlas~!"
"You? I can't see it," I deadpanned.
"Believe it!" Tonks grinned smugly. "I could beat Madam Bones and Mad-Eye in their primes! I'm the best dodger in Britain!"
Moody cut straight through that pride, "You wanna tell him why you have that title?"
Tonks blushed pure scarlet, "… Weaponized clumsiness…"
"It isn't pretty to look at but it's effective," Moody chuckled.
"You quite literally trip your way to victory?" Amusement crept into my tone.
"S-Shut up!" Tonks sputtered. "If it works, it works!"
I smirked, "I'm sure it does."
Tonks sniffed, "I don't think I appreciate your sarcasm."
"Oh, don't lie, Tonks. You love having someone willing to tease you back. Even if your defenses are weak as hell."
"Atlas?! You take that back!"
"Make me, Weathergirl."
"What does that even mean?!"
"Wouldn't you like to know, Weathergirl?"
"Argh!" Tonks yelled and gave chase. I laughed and began dodging again. It seemed we were starting again. I was more than okay with that. More Grinding for me.
1 to Dueling, 3 to Melee, 3 to Awareness, 4 to Tactics, 6 to Focus, 6 to Agility, 8 to Evasion Dueling 541=55/100, Melee 73=10/100, Awareness 493=52/100, Tactics 484=52/100, Focus 466=52/100, Agility 456=51/100, Evasion 408=48/100
1 to Soul, 2 to Body
Soul 531=54/100, Body 512=53/100
IIIII
"Merlin…" I muttered, stunned by what was presented to me. "This is perfect. It's everything I needed."
Bella was practically vibrating out of her skin, "Mommy did good?! Did I?! Did I?!"
I patted her on the head, "Yes, Bella. You did great. Thank you for your help."
Bella exploded with joy, "I can get more! If the Black Library doesn't have any more books on the subject… Oh, I know! I can steal some!"
"Please don't-…" I stifled an exasperated sigh before pausing. "Wait, steal from whom?"
"Oh, just a certain few Dark Houses…" Bella grinned. "The Dead Bastard Brothers, for example. They never gave me access to their vault so it's technically stealing even if the stuff should be rightfully mine by that damned contract. But fuck that thing!
"Oh, and MacNair! That creep always had an unhealthy obsession with rituals. Why else would he want to become the Ministry's Executioner?"
I hummed, "Hmm, we could use all the help we can get…"
"Just say the word!" Bella looked ready to run off for the heist there and then.
"Let me go through what you've gotten me first," I deflected for now. "If I still need more after that, you can do whatever you feel necessary."
I turned over the pair of books Bella had gotten from Grimmauld Place for me. One was normal. The other was wrapped in what could be nothing else but Human skin. Even closed, its pages glowed with a sickly purple light. Strangely enough, I had a feeling that one would be the less useful of the pair. It just seemed like it was compensating for something…
The creepy, dramatic book was titled "Most Sinister Rituals of the Baleful Dark and Devouring Black". The normal-looking one was simply titled "Rituals Through History, Good and Bad". That no-nonsense title filled me with confidence.
Hopefully, the normal-looking book would have something I could use. Otherwise, I'd have to delve into the self-important theatrics of whatever impossibly arrogant Wizard wrote the first one. If I didn't find anything in either, I'd have to try my hand at the very dangerous field of Ritual Creation.
I had something in mind already. A ritual I read about not too long ago. The one that had been used to banish an 'Immortal Titan' in Ancient Greece. I suspected it involved Horcruxes or proto-Horcruxes and I was hoping to find more information on it. If not, at least I would have a place to start…
Something pulled me from my thoughts. A rustle. A spell. A certain tension and excitement rising in the room.
"Bella…?" I asked without asking.
Bella paused, already all the way out of her clothes, "What? Mommy did good, right? So Mommy deserves a reward…?"
She clasped her hands together in front of her. Her breasts featured prominently between her arms. She turned on the doe-eyes at full force. She must have learned that look from Luna…
Despite myself, I was already hard enough to tear through my pants, "A reward. Yes, that sounds about right…"
Beaming an excited, manic smile, Bella bent herself over a nearby table. Her bum wiggled at me enticingly. Her flower bloomed between plump, succulent lips. Juices leaked down her thighs.
She looked back at me expectantly. I couldn't do anything else but banish my clothes and slide my cock home. I didn't want to anyway. Good work had to be rewarded, after all. I groaned as tight, silky heat engulfed me. Thank Merlin for manic, eager-to-please Mommies…
2 to Dark Arts, 2 to Ritual Magic, 5 to Black Blood Magic Dark Arts 512=53, Ritual Magic 512=53/100, Black Blood Magic 255=30/100
IIIII
"Dear Professor Atlas Black,
"Gabrielle has told me much about you in her letters home. Be proud. She sings your praises regularly and seems utterly content in your relationship.
"Fleur's letters speak of you often as well. Her opinion of you seems to be… conflicted… to say the least. But I digress.
"Sebastion - my husband - and I will be visiting Britain from today onward. We hope to stay through the Third Task of this - in my opinion - foolish tournament. Still, Fleur is determined to participate and we will support her in everything she does.
"Madam Maxime has been lovely enough to offer us accommodations in the Beauxbatons carriage. As such, I would like to extend an invitation to you. Come join me and my family for dinner tonight. I, for one, will welcome you with open arms and we shall work on getting Sebastion to do the same.
"Please, do not judge him based on the hostility you may well be greeted by. He has seen much in his life and is terrified that the worst the world has to offer will take away those he holds dear. He is a man with something valuable he feels he must protect, not a villain. All I ask is for you to treat him as such.
"If you do that, I'm sure we will all come to understand each other eventually. From what Gabrielle has told me, I suspect you and him are more similar than he currently realizes. You are both men with something to protect. A country. A family. A coven. Keep an open mind and you will surely see eye to eye.
"I hope to see you as part of our family soon enough.
"-Sincerely, Apolline Delacour."
Apolline Delacour nodded to herself. The letter would have to do. Her future son-in-law deserved some warning of their arrival, after all. Hopefully, the dinner invitation would lead to a productive conversation and a positive relationship for the future to build upon.
With Sebastion still being rather silly about this whole thing, it would be good to have at least one party willing to talk civilly. Sebastion would come around. Of that much, Apolline would make sure. But for now, he was quite irate.
That left it up to Apolline to play the mediator. Usually, it was the other way around. She was a very passionate woman. That passion spilled over into everything she did. From how she loved to how she waged war, often two sides of the same coin for Veela.
Sebastion Delacour, by contrast, was usually a very calm, collected, and most of all, reasonable man. He was decisive and stubborn, but not afraid to compromise. Those qualities served him well as Magical France's Head of Foreign Affairs and Ambassador-At-Large.
The one exception to these qualities in Sebastion Delacour's life was when it came to his family. There, he was fiercely protective and prone to extreme reactions. Apolline knew why. She knew about his fears. The ones caused by holding three Veela so close to his heart and centered around how to keep them safe from the cruel wider world.
Apolline understood her husband's fears. She even thought they were cute and heartwarming at times. But that didn't stop them from being, again, rather silly and a touch infantilizing.
Apolline could certainly defend herself. She knew the cruelty of the world better than Sebastion did. And she'd made sure Gabrielle and Fleur were the same. So Sebastion's protectiveness was touching but usually an overreaction at the same time.
Thankfully, Apolline was there to fill in Sebastion's blind spots. He could focus on protecting them as much as he wanted. She would work towards other solutions, as well as focus on breaking through his stubbornness and making him see reason. She wouldn't let him sabotage his relationships with Fleur and Gabrielle because of an overreactive decision that they would certainly rebel against.
As was usually the case with over-protective fathers, Sebastion hadn't fully internalized how old his daughters were now. 20 and 16, they were both firmly into a Veela's maturity. In the Veela Clans, they would have already ventured out to find valuable mates.
They would always be his littlest feathers. But he could not keep Veela like them confined only to his little nest for too much longer. Fleur and Gabrielle were spreading their wings. That would return when they were ready.
Making Sebastion realize the reality of having mature Veela daughters was part of Apolline's goal today. As contrary as it might seem, she hoped this Atlas would help with that. Gabrielle had already found her mate. She suspected Fleur had as well, though she seemed to still be in the process of accepting that fact.
With Atlas in the picture, they wouldn't have to wander the cruel world to find those their instincts drove them towards. Hopefully, Sebastion's mind could rest at ease knowing his daughters would not be going on long, dangerous journeys of self-discovery. He would even still be able to give the 'shovel' speech to their mate, Apolline chuckled to herself.
That the sisters would share a mate was just par for the course for Veela. If Apolline had a sister, Sebastion likely would have found himself with a second wife. After all, birds of a feather…
When they arrived at Hogwarts, it was nearly evening. They quickly settled into their temporary quarters within the Beauxbatons carriage. Sebastion was antsy, wanting desperately to find his daughters and give them a piece of his mind, Gabrielle in particular.
Apolline couldn't let that happen just yet. The letter she sent should have arrived this morning. She didn't know if she would receive a reply or if this Atlas would come directly to them. Neither Gabrielle nor Fleur were in the carriage. Apolline had faith they would at least convince their mate to honor the invitation in the spirit it was given.
The room they'd been set up in was quaint but elegant. Apolline knew not to expect anything less from Madam Maxime. Sebastion wasn't so willing to settle into their surroundings. He couldn't wait a moment longer.
He stormed to the door of their quarters, declaring to himself and Apolline, "Now, where is the bastard that's trying to steal my daughters?!"
He swung the door open, only to stop immediately. The way out was blocked by two very familiar figures and one unfamiliar one. Fleur looked about ready to die of embarrassment. Gabrielle looked insufferably amused as she usually did when she was enjoying the chaos around her. The unfamiliar man between them just smiled, his face unreadable other than that.
He stuck out a hand for Sebastion to shake, "Hello, I'm the bastard that's trying to steal your daughters. Atlas Black, at your service."
Fleur struggled not to facepalm, "Oh, mon dieu, Atlas…"
IIIII
The five of us sat around the table. The tension could have been cut with a knife. The air was thick with intent and thinly-veiled hostility. All of that intent and hostility was directed at me.
Apolline and Sebastion Delacour were a picturesque couple. They were both beautiful people, though not quite what I was expecting. Some part of me had been expecting a picture of French nobility, haughty and perfectly put together.
Apolline almost embodied that expectation. But even then, there was an air of spice and fire around her that was impossible to deny. I had no doubt that she was always the most interesting person in the room wherever she went. The way she carried herself just attracted the eye like nothing else, surpassing even her Allure.
Like Fleur and Gabrielle, she was inhumanly beautiful. But with her, that factor was even more so somehow. Like she'd just descended from the Heavens to lead men to greatness or rose from the depths of Hell to tempt mankind to sin in equal measures.
Her blonde hair fell like literal waves of gold. Her eyes sparkled like emeralds, yet there was a warmth there, a fire, that couldn't be found in the real world. She was pure passion incarnate. She was the kind of woman who would drive men willingly into madness. Apolline Delacour was a master-crafted jewel. I could see why Sebastion Delacour treasured his family so much.
Spoiler: Apolline
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Sebastion was definitely not the man I anticipated. Obviously, I didn't expect a powdered wig and tights (though part of me would have loved to see that), but he didn't carry himself with an air I would have normally associated with the idea of a French Pure-Blood either.
Actually, I didn't even know if he was a Pure-Blood. He certainly didn't seem like one. He was handsome, magically so. But he had this roguish charm to him. He looked like an experienced sea captain, a well-traveled man, more than the foreign official I knew he truly was.
His impossibly pale blue eyes shined with an inner light of magic and charisma. His hair was pure white. It was somehow styled and windswept at the same time. A well-trimmed beard covered his chin and lined his jaw. He even had a tattoo I could see, some kind of sea monster that crept up his neck over the collar of his shirt.
Spoiler: Sebastion
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Honestly, they seemed like fascinating people. I would have loved to get to know them. But right now, one of them was definitely not my biggest fan.
Sebastion's glare felt like the fury of the sea. But I couldn't let myself go easily into the storm there. I was here to bury the hatchet. I wasn't going to take offense to his hostility. Apolline's letter and invitation had deserved at least that much consideration. And for Gabrielle - and Fleur, I suppose… - I would put in an effort into getting along with him.
"Daddy? Pass the salt, please," Gabrielle asked.
I have no idea why I reached for the salt at that. I think Gabrielle set me up for it. It wasn't like she called me Daddy at all. But I did anyway. And Gabrielle's actual father did the same. The glare he gave me could have been used to cook our meal…
I coughed awkwardly, "… My apologies."
Gabrielle giggled. Sebastion tried to drown me alive where I sat. Apolline shook her head and tutted softly. Fleur had her head buried in her hands since we all sat down. She desperately didn't want to come up to face the reality of me meeting her father.
She groaned into her hands, begging, "Atlas, Gabby, Please?!"
"So, Atlas…" Sebastion almost spat. "Is this how you treat my dear youngest daughter? You let her call you something so… so depraved?! I know exactly what that name can mean! Apolline and I have used it on more than one-!"
"Papa!" Surprisingly, Fleur jumped to my defense. "You as well?! Atlas does nothing of the sort!"
"It was likely just another of Gabby's jokes, Sebastion. Do not think too hard on the issue," Apolline soothed.
Sebastion's jaw was tight, "Oh, you defend him now, Fleur? Were you not the one who insisted I do something about him in the first place."
Fleur hesitated, "I-… Things have changed, Papa…"
"Did he not trick Gabby into bonding with him?! Did he not steal her heart in the most literal sense?!" Sebastion was working himself up to a head of steam.
"… I may have overreacted when I said that," Fleur demurred, looking as embarrassed as I'd ever seen from her.
"I told you so, Papa~" Gabrielle singsonged.
"Not helping…" I muttered, nudging her.
"As did I," Apolline nudged her husband as well, though her nudge was accompanied by a look of disapproval. "You should know better than anyone that a Veela bond is not so simple, Sebastion."
"This is different, 'Pol!" Sebastion shot back.
"Why?" Apolline wouldn't back down. "Because it concerns your daughter? It isn't different at all. We met the same way."
"Of course, because it concerns my daughter-… ! Wait, what do you mean we met the same way?! We met at a banquet, Apolline!"
"You saved my life and purity before we officially met, Sebastion. Do you remember the Summer of 76? That ravenous Werewolf you led away from its original prey? That was me, Sebastion. And you know what Werewolves do to Veela when they lose control. After returning to the Clan, I ventured out to find you again. Just like Gabrielle did for Atlas here."
"I-I…" The fire seemed to partially go out of Sebastion's eyes. "Bah, when has hypocrisy ever stopped a Frenchman?!"
"Sebastion…" Apolline warned.
The rest of the fire in Sebastion went out and he sighed, "Fine, 'Pol my dear… I shall try…"
A few long moments of silence followed. Eventually, though, I extended my hand to Sebastion again, this time over the table.
"I think we got off on the wrong foot. Shall we start over?"
He eyed me for a moment before grudgingly taking my offered hand, "Sebastion Delacour. Head of Foreign Affairs and Amabassador-At-Large for Magical France. Also, a father with a magical sword that he will not hesitate to use if you hurt his little feathers…"
I actually grinned at the magical equivalent of the 'shovel/shotgun' threat, "Atlas Black. Hogwarts Professor. Orphaned Muggle-born who turned out to be neither of those things. And Fleur's arch-nemesis."
Fleur scowled at me, "Perhaps I spoke too soon. Things have not changed. He is still a rogue and a villain. Papa, you should challenge him to a duel for my honor!"
Surprisingly, Sebastion just laughed, "Hahaha~! Oh, I really shouldn't be laughing at that but I suppose it's just the way things are in my life now… Fleur always was the dramatic child… An arch-nemesis just seems appropriate now."
"Wha-! Papa!? You would betray me like this?!" Fleur sputtered. "Fine! I will challenge him myself!"
"Oh? How will you challenge, Mon Ange?" Gabrielle asked innocently. "If I remember correctly, he's already beaten you in one way~"
"T-That didn't count! A-A rematch! Oh… a rematch~…" Fleur shuddered, suddenly lost in thought.
I tensed slightly at the hidden implication in the sisters' words. Sebastion just sighed, "I should expect nothing less from this family…"
I chuckled somewhat awkwardly, thankful that the hostility hadn't resumed, "Haha… yeah… I don't envy you."
Sebastion looked at me with a long-suffering look in his eyes, "You will. Both of them? And however many daughters you have? You will…"
"Uh… No, just Gabrielle-…" I started to say, not even truly believing those words myself.
Sebastion just nodded, bowling right over what I said, "Yes, both of them. You are the luckiest man in the world. Also, the man whom God will test the most. To deal with their antics for the rest of your life… Well, welcome to the family, son-in-law."
"Uhmm…" Was it strange that he was accepting me so easily now?
"Oh, how nice it will be to have another man in the family to share my pain with!" Sebastion looked so utterly relieved at the idea.
Ah, that explained some of it. Still… "You seem to be taking this rather well now."
"Commiseration! The manly bond between father and son-in-law!" Sebastion declared over-dramatically. "Finally! I will not be the only man in a family of Veela. Blessings though they may be, a man does begin to crave some testosterone to share a drink with."
"I'm beginning to see where Fleur gets it from…" I muttered.
"Don't you love us, Papa?" Fleur asked, her lip trembling.
"More than you could possibly know, my feather!" Sebastion exclaimed, almost offended by the question. "But a man has needs! I cannot survive solely off my love for you, no matter how great that love is!"
Fleur sniffled, "Very well, Papa. You may have your 'manly bonding time' with this Devil. Perhaps it will do him some good. His manners and attitude toward me are sorely lacking, of course."
"Worry not, Feather!" Sebastion raised his head high. "I shall tame this Devil and forge him into a worthy husband for you! It is the least I can do!"
"H-H-Husband…?! How love-… Deplorable~! O-Of course… he wouldn't be satisfied with just Gabrielle…" Fleur blushed furiously, suddenly swept away by fantasies. "I-It cannot be helped. I must do my part as well… M-Marrying my… nemesis… is a sacrifice I am willing to make!"
Gabrielle played along with a wicked grin, "Ara? Without my permission? Are you trying to steal Mon Ange for yourself? Fleur, how could you?!"
"A-Ah! I would never, Gabby!" Fleur denied desperately.
Gabrielle nodded matter-of-factly, "I see… Of course, you don't wish to marry him at all. You simply desire to be beneath him in all things…"
"I-I-! Wha-! That's-! Nnnn~!" Fleur sputtered, barely getting any words out. Her blush could have been seen from space.
"It is only fair," Apolline said simply, adding fuel to the fire. "The sister who admits her feelings and acts first is the head wife. Congratulations, Gabby. I'm sure Fleur will be fine as a mistress."
"O-Oh, how humiliating~!" Fleur practically moaned.
Sebastion just gave me a deadpan look, obviously used to his family's antics, "Yes… I should have known better than to assume Gabrielle was the victim in this situation. You will share my pain, Atlas. Don't worry. You grow numb to the embarrassment after a while."
"I should hope so," I was beginning to truly understand his excitement at having a son-in-law to commiserate with. "I don't know how I could handle my daughters talking so openly about the intimate sides of their romantic lives."
Sebastion laughed, "That's the easy part! Atlas, they are Veela. I've known they would be women of untameable desire since they were 14. Apolline has certainly reminded me of that part of their nature enough. They are mature Veela. They cannot quench the passion that burns inside them. Why should I be ashamed of that?
"No, the hard part is worrying about everyone else around them. I think that's why I treated you with - admittedly unfair - hostility. My fears of them getting taken advantage of clouded my judgment. I should have trusted Gabby and listened to Apolline. Of course, Fleur's 'conflicted' feelings on the matter didn't help…"
"I think…" I said slowly. "That those fears were entirely appropriate for a man, a father, in your position… You didn't know me. Your youngest daughter was singing my praises after a traumatic event. Your other daughter was arguing against me, declaring me 'the Devil'. I think I would have felt and reacted the same way."
"Perhaps," Sebastion nodded. "It still wasn't quite the right reaction. I should have taken a few moments longer to consider the information but Fleur has never lied to me. In my fear, I trusted her over thinking logically about the situation."
"Err… I don't think she lied to you," I defended. "She truly seemed to believe I was tricking Gabrielle when we first met."
"Ah, misunderstandings. My Fleur is a little prone to jumping to conclusions, isn't she?" Sebastion smirked with fond amusement.
"You could say that… She certainly keeps things interesting though."
Apolline and Gabrielle kept 'bullying' Fleur in the background and adding fuel to the fire. I only caught bits and pieces of it through my conversation with Sebastion. Something from Gabrielle about how Fleur would be lucky to get a spot at the foot of the bed if she didn't make up her mind soon. Something else from Apolline about how she didn't want to see her oldest daughter grow old and alone in her delusion.
Eventually, Fleur exploded, "Enough! I-I do not have to sit here and take this! I can make up my mind too! Better than you, Gabby, for I've actually thought about the issue! Oh, how I've thought about it~…"
Gabrielle smirked smugly, "Is that so, Fleur~? I thought Atlas was the Devil. Why would you think so much of joining me with him?"
"T-To keep you in check! The truth is obvious to me now!" Fleur declared. "Atlas was never tricking you, Gabby. You're tricking him!"
"Is that so~?" Gabrielle got out between giggles. "Hear that, Mon Ange? I am tricking you~"
"Don't drag me into this," I deadpanned.
Fleur took that as proof, "See!? Even now, you try to trick him into going against his best interests! It makes so much sense now! Oh, I've been mistaken~! I've always known my sister would be the true Devil! Please forgive me, Atlas~?"
"If I am the Devil, why do you fixate on Atlas so much?" Gabrielle teased.
"Just more of your trickery, Devil-Sister," Fleur scowled. "You were there when he 'beat' me the first time! It was even your idea! Yes, you are the true mastermind here! Atlas is as much a victim of your devilish machinations as I am~! No! Worse! He is your pawn, your tool!"
She sighed dramatically, "Alas, I cannot help but love you, Gabby. You are my dear sister. I will not let your treacherous trickery change that~! And so, as always, I must sacrifice myself. I will join you and Atlas to keep you both in line!"
"And the fact that you've thought about him every day since you two met…?" Gabrielle asked, obviously setting Fleur up for a trap.
Fleur sniffed imperiously, "Irrelevant. It is just fate calling me to save him from your control, Devil-Sister. That must be why he plagues my thoughts and dreams. That must be why he rules my body and heart so. He is your greatest weapon against me~!"
Apolline sighed, "If that is what you must say to convince yourself… Well, at least my daughters will be together."
I met Sebastion's eyes, suddenly needing a bit of father-in-lawly commiseration. He just smirked at me, "Actually, 'Interesting' is Fleur's middle name. Welcome to my world, Atlas. Treat them well. And always remember… father with a magical sword."
37: The Lovely Delusions of Fleur Delacour
I sighed, "Fleur, what is this now? Four times in a week and a half?"
Fleur haughtily turned her nose up, "I knew you would come for me."
"How do you keep losing your clothes in places that are public enough to provide a thrill but private enough that you're confident no one will come across you at the same time?" I asked, honestly curious what excuse she would come up with.
Fleur pleaded ignorance, "I don't know what you're talking about. It must be part of Her Evil Plan."
"She's not evil, Fleur," I sighed again.
"She is! She must be!" Fleur insisted.
"You know," I said absently. "I much preferred our games when all of your attention was directed at me."
"Y-You did…?" Fleur asked hesitantly, sounding so vulnerable before she recovered. "Ah! Never mind! This is actually your fault, isn't it, Devil?!"
I chuckled, "And I suppose Gabrielle's not responsible anymore, is she?"
"It can be both."
"Can it?"
"Obviously. That is why you are here. You are her greatest weapon against me. But that does not make you innocent, Devil!"
"And I assume that's why I'm here? More trickery?"
"Of course," Fleur sniffed matter-of-factly. "You're obviously here to place me further in your debt. Soon enough, I won't be able to refuse you~!"
"You already can't refuse me, Fleur," I deadpanned.
"Gah!" Fleur reacted as if I'd shot her. "N-No~! I-It can't be! I have not lost yet~!"
"Do you want some clothes or not?"
"Ahnnh~! And now you would make me walk naked if I refused? How depraved~! How sinister~! I-Is it true…? Can I really not refuse you…? Be still oh heart of mine~!"
"You could always conjure clothes yourself. You have your wand, Fleur. You're not nearly as helpless as you're playing at."
Fleur protested my logic vehemently, "No! No, I can't! Y-You must dress me! Personally~… Intimately~… Oh, to feel your hands on my skin, burning me up from the outside in~…"
"Oh, we're adding rhyming to your-… Would you call this flirting?" I paused my original sentence to ask an honest question.
"Wha-! N-No-! Yes-… Is it working?"
I shrugged, "A little bit. It helps that you're currently giving me a front seat to naked perfection."
Fleur preened like a peacock, "Oui, I am perfect, am I not? It is good that even a fiendish rogue like you can recognize that fact. Very well, enjoy, Devil. Then you may dress me."
Well, now, who was I to refuse an invitation like that? I stepped back to the doorway of the broom closet. Fleur had summoned me here with a desperate Patronus Message. I lit a Lumos Spell on the tip of my finger for a better view.
Fleur pressed her chest out for my eyes and my eyes only. Those rose-capped peaks were so perky they didn't sag at all. They only jiggled slightly, hinting at how soft they would be on my hands if I just 'gave in~' and touched them.
Her skin was soft and clear. Her tummy was taut, flexing just enough to give off a hint of abs. Her body curved like an hourglass, putting the world's most beautiful models to shame.
Fleur didn't hold a single ounce of embarrassment for her body. She presented herself eagerly, asking for my eyes to devour her. Begging me to go even farther and take her there and then.
She posed for me. Smooth thighs rubbed against each other. Her hips cocked and swayed on thin air, hinting at what she could do with a real cock under her. Those perfect legs spread just a touch to reveal even more perfection. Plump, kissable lips. Impossibly pink petals. A sheen of wetness leaked to coat her inner thighs.
Fleur even went so far as to turn around for me. She bent over slightly, slowly and sensually wiggling that bubbly bum in my direction. Her hands were planted on the wall, her legs were spread, and her back was arched. She was already in the perfect position for me to simply take. Then she looked over her shoulder with lidded eyes, beckoning me into her.
I found myself stepping forward unconsciously. As if on cue, the bell for the next class period rang through the Castle. I snapped back to reality and Fleur did as well. In an instant, the seductress was replaced by a petulantly pouting flower.
"Merde…" Fleur grumbled.
"Better luck next time, Fleur," I consoled her, laying a teasing hand on her hip as I did. "Let's get you dressed, yeah?"
"This is not over, Devil!" Fleur practically growled.
I returned the favor with the same rumbly promise in my voice, "Oh, I know it isn't~"
Stroking the curve of her hip one last time, I left her shuddering. I conjured a set of clothes for her. They would last the rest of the day but I'd made a few key adjustments and subtractions to the standard Beauxbatons uniform.
"Next time! Next time, I shall make you satisfy me until I scream, Devil-! Ah!" Fleur suddenly squawked. "A-Atlas?! A-Aren't you forgetting something…?"
I hummed, "Hmm, nope~. I think you should learn that you can't keep doing this without me punishing you somehow. Going without panties seems like a very good place for me to start. I've shortened your skirt a touch as well. Try not to flash anyone, Fleur~ You wouldn't want people to think you're some sort of lustful deviant who gets off on exhibition, would you~?"
Fleur moaned, "I-I'm notttttt~ Ah~ Ah, so lewd~ So degenerate~ So degrading~ Truly, I am at the mercy of a Devil~!"
I gave her rear a little swat after slipping the skirt the rest of the way up her smooth legs and zipping it up at the side, "You've only brought this upon yourself."
She shuddered and whined at the harsh contact, "Ah~, you will drag me into the depths of sin and depravity~!"
I slipped her uniform jacket around her torso, manipulating her arms through the sleeves by hand. My chest molded itself to her back as I buttoned the jacket up. She pushed back onto my body desperately.
Bent over her, I nibbled on her ear, whispering, "And you love it~"
Fleur almost physically melted, mewling like a kitten, "Aauwnh~! N-No shirt…? No brassiere…? People will notice~!"
"I don't see how that's my problem," My words grazed her ear as I drew back. "Turn around."
She complied on shaky legs, "Y-Yes, Atlas~"
Casual as can be, I went about tying her neckerchief around her neck. Fleur was practically panting, unable to control the erotic shivers that wracked her body. I acted like I didn't even notice her arousal. Like I wasn't responsible for edging her like this. Just a bit of denial-play to cap off our little 'game'.
Tying the last bit of her outfit around her neck gave Fleur just enough time to start recovering her usual attitude, "I-I will have my revenge, Devil. For this l-lewd injustice, I will make you wear nothing but a loincloth to fan me and feed me grapes! I will make you praise me like a goddess!"
"Sounds fun. You'll have to ask me for that directly if you ever want that to actually happen though," I said nonchalantly.
"A-Ask you!? Oh my~… H-How humiliating~… To make me… beg~…? Would I even still be the goddess in that situation…?" Fleur looked more aroused than offended by the idea.
"You're always a goddess, Fleur~" I teased. "Especially when you're on your knees, begging me for something."
"F-Fiend~! Devil~! Rogue~!" Fleur whimpered.
I smirked, "If you keep that up, I'll have to start questioning your taste in men."
"My taste is impeccable! After all, it is only you that I lo-… !" Fleur took offense to my teasing, barely stopping herself from blurting out the truth.
I plead ignorance, "Hmm? What was that?"
She blushed furiously, "N-Never mind! Go! Remove yourself from my sight! You have already saved me. There is no need to torment me further!"
I stepped forward and leaned into Fleur's space. I could feel the heat radiating off her cheeks. Her eyes went wide, darting to my lips. Her lips parted slightly, almost panting.
Without actually touching her, the ghost of a kiss graced her lips and I whispered, "If you insist~ Until next time, Fleur~"
I was gone before she recovered. I could still practically see her reaction in my mind's eye. She would be stewing in frustration and arousal. I doubted she would make it out of that broom closet any time soon. And when she did, frazzled and flustered, her missing under-clothes would only serve to remind her of our most recent encounter. Until next time, indeed…
IIIII
'Next time' with Fleur came rather quickly. Not even two days after I 'saved' her in that broom closet, I found myself accosted by her theatrics again. This time, I wasn't alone.
With the weather quickly warming, the Castle's population was blossoming. Like the flowers of spring, the Castle's gates opened and its residents could be seen enjoying its grounds. The coven was no different, happy to see the warmth of spring after a long winter. This time in particular, Gabrielle and I were having a private little picnic on a hill overlooking the Black Lake.
"I can manage to eat by myself, Gabrielle," I insisted.
She didn't stop trying to feed me grapes, almost ironic after Fleur's latest 'threat', "I am aware, Mon Ange. Still, I enjoy feeding you. Won't you indulge me~?"
"I suppose I could… Or I could make you work for that indulgence~" I teased.
"Oh~?" Gabrielle giggled. "And how would you put me to work, Mon Ange~?"
"Since you're so keen to dish out worship, maybe I should see if you can take it just as well~" I grinned. "You know, throw your legs over my shoulders and give myself a proper feast so you can take care of 'dessert'?"
"Far be it from me to ruin your appetite~"
"Exactly. If you wish to feed me, shouldn't it be a full-course meal?"
Gabrielle played along, sighing dramatically, "Oh, woe is me~! How shall I ever live with receiving the same worship as Mon Ange~?"
I smiled, "You almost sounded like Fleur there."
"Unhand him, Devil-Sister!"
"Ha… Speak of the devil and she shall appear…" I sighed.
Fleur stormed over to us. Gabrielle did the opposite of what her sister ordered. She pulled my head to her chest so I was lying there on the grass in her lap. Fleur stopped in front of us, with hands on her hips and a 'mighty' glare on her face.
"Hello, Fleur," Gabrielle greeted her interrupting sister. "You're welcome to join us. I am not above sharing Mon Ange with my dearest sister."
Fleur's scowl faltered for a moment at the scene before her. It quickly reasserted itself on her face, "N-No, it is no use! I shall save Atlas from your devilish grasp, Gabby!"
"And if I don't wish to be saved?" I asked.
Fleur scoffed, "Of course, you do! Why would you want the lesser model when you can have older, more experienced perfection?"
"Gabrielle is just as experienced as you Fleur. Perhaps more," I flatly retorted.
"Especially where it counts~" Gabrielle singsonged.
"I-Irrelevant!" Fleur sputtered. "After I am done here, Atlas will want no one else!"
"Careful, Fleur," I warned. "I know seven other Witches who would duel you if they heard that."
That brought Fleur up short, "Ah… You're right. My apologies to the coven…"
She quickly recovered her momentum, "But still! After this, you will want me just as much as you want them! You will finally stop teasing and tormenting me and give me what I need! Then! I shall save you from Gabby's insidious control!"
"Fleur… Is this your version of a confession?"
"Wha-?! That's all you have to say?! I am pouring my heart out here! Rogue! Scoundrel! Treat me with the proper consideration, Devil!"
"So it is."
Fleur sniffed imperiously, "If a message of love is what you take from my words, that is entirely your prerogative. I will neither confirm nor deny the passion that burns for you in my heart."
"Fleur…" I began. "I'd rather you just come out and say it at this point."
Fleur's face flushed, "Y-You brute! Have you no delicacy? You can't rush a lady with these things!"
"We've been anything but rushed, Fleur. There's a time for games and a confession isn't it," I said. "If you want to get through to me, you should just come out and say what you feel. I won't accept you with anything less than enthusiastic consent."
"… Do you enjoy our games, Atlas?" Fleur's question was surprisingly soft and serious.
"I do."
"I must admit I do as well."
"I'm not saying we should stop playing them," I reassured. "Just that I'd like to hear your honest feelings for once."
Fleur hesitated, "… That is impossible. When… Even I am not sure of them."
"Then you shouldn't be confessing, Fleur. Not yet anyway. Take some time. Think about things. Think about us. I promise I'll hear you out when you're ready," I said softly.
"My heart is a mystery, beating in my chest. Perhaps… Perhaps you hold the key…?" Fleur mused poeticly.
"I'd be happy to unlock it for you. When you're ready," I promised, for once entirely earnest while playing along with her theatrics.
"I… I must think…" Fleur trailed off, already lost in thought.
She wandered off like that. For once, she didn't try for a parting remark. She didn't try to get the last word. She was silent, considerate, and almost somber. It was actually slightly worrying. I was so used to her being larger than life, bombastic in everything she did. I very nearly got up to go after her.
Gabrielle stopped me, her arms hugging me tight, "Mmm, no, Mon Ange. She will be fine. She needs this time alone for introspection. You've already done more than I thought possible. You've made Fleur look at herself honestly. Now, we must be patient while she accepts her heart's desire."
I settled back into her embrace, "… It's just so strange to see her like that."
"For me as well," Gabrielle laughed. "I did not think I would see that day Fleur was introspective. I love her but she is usually anything but reasonable."
"I think I prefer her that way…" I said, shaking my head. "Now, where were we?"
Gabrielle grinned down at me, "I believe you were about to feast upon my supple flesh, Mon Ange~ It is a shame we are in the open. Otherwise, I would have you do so here. I suppose we must settle for feeding each other grapes and wine. How 'boring'…"
"Nothing a Notice-Me-Not Charm can't take care of~" I purred.
I felt Gabrielle's Allure flare with excitement around me, "My my, Mon Ange~ You have the best ideas~!"
"I do, don't I~?" I teased, turning in her embrace and sinking between her legs.
My eyes sparkled up at her. Gabrielle spread herself before me. Heat burned in her loins. My breath brushed against her core. Her skirt was raised onto her hips and her panties were pushed aside. A brief flex of my magic erected the mentioned charm around us. We wouldn't be disturbed again…
Gabrielle's eyelids fluttered and she let out a breathy moan, "Ah~, Merci, Mon Ange~ I shall return this favor twofold."
My tongue was already too busy to respond to her promise…
IIIII
Fleur worried at her lip. She'd been doing so near-constantly for the past day. Ever since her 'scheme' to separate Gabby and Atlas blew up in her face.
To be fair, it wasn't much of a scheme. She had just planned to go up to them and demand they separate. For their own good, of course. Fleur would never be motivated by something as base as jealousy…
She'd hoped to rope Atlas into another of their little games. The ones that set her heart racing and her stomach twisting in little knots. He would tease her. She would react. They would both enjoy themselves, dancing a dance only they understood.
But… had she gone too far this time…? Before she'd realized it, she had said more than she meant to. Rays of… something… shined through her persona. Something that even Fleur herself didn't fully understand.
Feelings and desires that she was only able to express through her games with Atlas. Things she typically repressed. She didn't need to decipher them yet. Not when she could simply enjoy their silly games. Her heart's true desire was complicated.
Was it really…? Initially, perhaps. But after the better part of a year, Fleur wasn't so sure.
She remembered laying eyes on Atlas for the first time. She remembered the fire that burned inside her then. Fear for Gabrielle. Hatred for those responsible. Something else… Something that sparked at the sight of that dashing man her age kneeling with Gabrielle… It was all pointed at Atlas and latched onto him in Fleur's mind.
Of course, now Fleur could safely say she overreacted when they first met. Just a touch. The second time they met as well. And even every time their eyes met after that… But she couldn't help herself when it came to him! She was just so full of passion!
Hatred, desire, Fleur couldn't tell the difference. Conflicted feelings pulled her this way and that. Did she want to strike him down? Did she want him to take her to his bed? Oh, where did answers lie?!
He had lingered on her mind always. Whether she was awake or dreaming, he was there, his passionate eyes glaring into hers. His arms around her. His skin against hers. Hot lips lighting her alight from the outside in.
Fire and desire overtook her every fantasy. Burning within those flames was always the same dashing figure, saving Gabrielle, saving Fleur, or even just standing tall with a power that called out to the core of her being.
She'd been so confused. And she'd taken it out on Atlas, to her great shame. Yet, somehow he still didn't hate her. They got over their rocky start. He wished her luck in the First Task. He took over for her date at the Yule Ball. He even congratulated her for winning the Second Task. This year had certainly been the best year of Fleur's life and Atlas played no small part in that.
Fleur didn't know when their relationship began to turn from hostile to playful. No… that wasn't true. Even she could not ignore what happened when she offered herself up in Gabrielle's place. It still kept her up at night, thrashing in her bed as she took pleasure in the memory.
Atlas played her body like an instrument. He drove her to heights unknown. He made her scream herself to overwhelmed tears of ecstasy. He let her Veela passion burn as it always should. He just about fucked her brains out!
Fleur would never forget her first time. She couldn't. Not when it flashed through her mind's eye whenever she looked at Atlas or Gabby. Not when the mere thought of it made her womb clench and her pussy drip even now!
Perhaps their relationship had always been this charged with sexual tension. Perhaps her hatred had just been an outlet for the desire she didn't quite understand. She challenged him, she argued and insulted, she teased and pushed, all because…
Because she wanted his attention. Because she wanted him to focus those brilliant eyes on her. Because she wanted him to tease her, lift her up, and break her down just so they could do it all over again. Because she needed him and that infuriating spice he brought to her life. Because she wanted him, more than almost anything. Fleur played these games with Atlas because she loved them.
Maybe Atlas was right. Maybe it had been a confession. Maybe every single game she played and every denial she sputtered was a confession of its own.
Oh~, How embarrassing! How… thrilling~… She might as well have been screaming her true desires from the rooftops this entire time!
Now, how to express her realization…? Atlas wanted her enthusiastic consent. No flustered denials. No talking around the issue. But still, Fleur wasn't willing to give up their games. She would just have to change the way they played~…
A plot, a plan, a scheme formed in her mind. This one wouldn't blow up in her face. It couldn't! Atlas wanted enthusiastic consent. Fleur would show him enthusiasm… She'd show him more enthusiasm than he knew what to do with! For Fleur was nothing if not the best at what she set her mind to.
"Heheheheheheh~!" She giggled to herself maniacally. Atlas wouldn't know what hit him!
Bright and early the next morning, Fleur set her ambush. She couldn't wait a moment longer. Her whole being thrummed with anticipation now that she'd accepted the truth of her feelings toward Atlas. Her heart beat a staccato within her chest. She lay in wait for Atlas to walk past her hiding spot on the way to the Great Hall.
The room she'd chosen was an old classroom of some kind or another that Fleur had claimed and renovated for her purposes. The dust was gone. As was the old, creaking classroom furniture. In its place, a large four-poster bed took up the center of the room. Thin, wispy curtains of gauze and silk barely shielded it from the rest of the room. Light from the room's windows streamed through the room, casting everything in the warmth of a fading dawn.
It was perfect. Perfect for what Fleur had in mind. Here, she would make her feelings known. There would be no denials. There would be no room for Atlas to be mistaken. She would profess her desire, her need, for him. 'Confession' was almost too light of a word for what Fleur planned.
The door was cracked. Fleur peeked through, watching the hallway on the other side and waiting for Atlas to pass by. Her Allure trembled and flared with excitement. As if she could feel him coming closer with each second. He would walk past this room as he always did, non-the-wiser to the ambush that awaited him.
Her Allure flashed one last time. It suddenly quieted like a stalking predator ready to pounce. Steps sounded from the other side of the door. Three pairs. Atlas was in front. Fleur could tell just from the way he walked.
He came into view. In an instant, Fleur stepped from her hiding place. He suddenly stopped short. Fleur stood proudly, her hands on her hips and her chin raised high.
"Atlas!" She declared. "I am ready to give you my answer! Rejoice! For today, you shall know what burns in my heart! I challenge thee! Will you dare heed my call?!"
Atlas glanced at his companions - Septima and Luna - before returning his attention to Fleur where it belonged at the moment, "Bit early, isn't it?"
Fleur sniffed, "I was under the impression that the Devil did not need rest. Besides, you said you would listen when I was ready. I am ready. Did you lie?"
"… No. No, of course, I didn't," Atlas conceded. "Go on ahead, girls. It would seem I have something to take care of here before breakfast."
"Okay~!" Luna agreed easily. "Good luck, Fleur~! I hope you can get your feelings through to him~!"
Septima glanced at Atlas, "Are you sure?"
Atlas shrugged, "I promised. And I doubt I'll be busy long. Fleur's a lightweight like that."
"You dare~?!" Fleur acted like she took offense to that accusation. Inside, she was grinning. "I will show you the strength of my true feelings, Devil~!"
Atlas rolled his eyes, stepping past her into the previously empty classroom, "I'm sure you will, Fleur."
Her grin reached her face. She raced after him, only to pause for a moment. She stuck her head back through the doorway.
"Uh… My apologies for stealing him for the moment, Mademoiselle. I shall endeavor to make this inconvenience up to you," She apologized to Septima.
Septima smiled at her, "No, no, I understand. You gathered your courage for this moment. Good luck. I hope you get the result you hoped for."
Fleur smiled as well, bright enough to blind, "I hope so as well."
She ducked back inside to see Atlas standing there waiting for her, "I like what you've done with the place."
"But of course," Fleur primly stated. "I would not think of doing something as important as this in a dusty classroom. I am a lady of standards, Atlas. You should know that very well by now."
He chuckled, "Yeah, I might have noticed something like that."
There was a somewhat awkward pause after that, "So…"
"So…"
Fleur psyched herself inside. Her body and Allure vibrated. Her heart raced. Anticipation, arousal, and anxiety pooled in her gut. She took a deep breath. And another. Looking into Atlas' eyes, she decided there was nothing to it.
"You wanted me to think about how I truly felt!" She blurted out. "I did. I have come to a decision. A realization. The truth is simple, Atlas. This isn't about Gabby. Or my Maman or Papa. This is about you and I, Atlas, nothing more, nothing less.
"I want you. I don't know if I love you but I certainly don't want to live without you in my life anymore. I need our games. I need your attention on me. I need to drive you crazy and I need you to do the same to me. I need you, Atlas.
"You wished for a straightforward confession. Here it is. I fancy you. I fancy the way we go back and forth. I fancy the way you compliment me. I fancy the way you tease me. I fancy the idea of doing all of this over and over again with you for a long time yet…"
Atlas watched her calmly as Fleur poured out her heart. Everything she'd come to realize, everything she'd kept buried. It came rushing out. Once she began, Fleur found she couldn't stop. Atlas stood there, taking it all. Even after she finished, he was silent for a few long, torturous moments.
"W-Well…?" Fleur stuttered. "W-What say you, D-Devil…?"
Atlas finally reacted, cracking a smile, "Perfect."
Fleur's heart swelled at that word but still, she stuttered, "I-Is that it? That's not much of an answer! Aren't you supposed to declare your undying love for me now?! Sweep me off my feet?! Carry me into the sunset?! Something?!"
His smile shifted into a smirk, "I don't know, am I~?"
Fleur's face flushed, "Y-You rogue~! Did you not listen to a word I said? I have confessed to you! The least you can do is answer me in kind!"
"Ah, but you said you don't know if you loved me. Should I say the same?" Amusement was thick in Atlas' voice. He was teasing her. He didn't believe a word he was saying and he knew Fleur was the same.
"So you would ignore everything else?!"
"No, I'm just saying it wouldn't quite be fair for me to declare my 'undying love' just yet."
Fleur fumed, "Fine! Then I will convince you of my feelings in another way!"
Atlas smirked, "Oh, yeah?"
"Yes, you infuriating man!" Fleur growled, stalking toward Atlas. "My actions shall speak for me. Remove your clothes. I will ride you until you cannot help but say you love me!"
IIIII
"Ah~! Ahhhhhhh~! Ahhhhhhhhhh~! No more~! No more~! I yield, Atlas~! Please, please, please~! I love the things you do to me~! I loooooovvvvveeee yoooouuuuuuu~!" Fleur cried at the top of her lungs.
H-How was she so weak to this?! It was impossible. Her muscles trembled. Her mind flashed with white spots and fireworks. Her voice grew weaker from how much she cried out.
She rode tidal waves of pleasure, sweeping her out to drift in ecstasy. They'd barely begun. Atlas wouldn't let her rest any time soon.
He'd barely entered her most sacred place before she was cumming for the first time. Her core quaked with sheer sensation. Her lower lips stretched wide. Her mind was blank, almost unable to cope with what Atlas was doing to her.
Fleur held on for dear life. She was on top of him but she felt anything but dominant right now. Her confidence was shaken, left in ruins by the first thrust. She screamed for the heavens, crying and cumming around Atlas' wonderful, wonderful cock.
"Mercy, Atlas, pleeeeeaaaaaasseeeee~! I-I cannot~! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I was wrong~! You win~! Anything, everything, it is yours~!"
Her arms wrapped tightly around Atlas' neck. Her legs did the same at his waist. Her pussy gripped him like a second skin. She tried to hold him still inside her. Anything for a moment of rest and reprieve.
Atlas powered through her grip, both internally and externally. His hips rolled up into her. His hands seized her curves, using them as handholds. His thrusts wrecked her body over and over again.
His monstrous manhood split her in twain~! He controlled her through sensations she could have never imagined~! Her body yielded to his so easily and completely~! She was clay, mere putty, in his hands~!
She moaned as her world exploded around her for the fourth time in as many minutes, "Ahhhhhhhh~! H-Hoooooowwwww~?!? Is this possible~?! It is even better than the first~! Oh, oh, oh, you will ruin me~!"
She was entirely at his mercy. She was laid bare before him, reduced to nothing but pure ecstasy. Her body was his, a plaything for his devilish attention.
Her mind felt like it was rolling in her head in the most pleasant way. Like the rest of the world wasn't real. Like all that mattered was Fleur, Atlas, and their shared rapture.
Still, Fleur was nothing if not stubborn. With her mind ravaged with pleasure, her body ravished, a strange semblance of sense returned to her. She couldn't stop cumming. But the moments of absolute bliss brought clarity.
She laughed like tinkling bells, "Hahahaha~! B-Be prepared, Atlas! I-I shall turn the tables! You will submit eventually!"
Atlas ignored her warnings. The wonderous fool~! Fleur would have the last laugh. Of that, she would make sure~! She whined and wailed but she was not beaten! Not yet!
He drilled into her core with his thrusts. He tore ecstasy and orgasms from her nerves. He stretched her perfectly to her limit. He filled her to the brim.
It was everything Fleur wanted. Everything she craved, day and night, since their first time together. Her mind was cracked but not shattered. She would not rest until he confessed his love for her as well!
IIIII
*Plap plap plap plap plap plap plap~!*
Flesh came together again and again. Skin smacked against skin. Bodies danced a dance as old as mankind itself.
The sound filled the room, likely spilling beyond the thick stone walls. Wet squelches joined the drumbeat of skin on skin. Occasionally, an especially loud smack - of a strong palm on a perfectly-shaped bum - could be heard like punctuation. A musical voice, moaning and mewling, capped the lewd song of sex and sin.
Fleur was on fire. Her skin, her insides, her mind. Everything burned. It consumed her. It fed her. It scalded her soul.
She just went back for more. More, more, more, more! Fleur was burning up in a frenzy of ecstasy and she couldn't get enough!
She rose higher and higher, breaking straight through the glass ceiling she'd put around her Veela passion.
Her core sang. A song of desire. Of passion. Of sheer, unimaginable pleasure.
She was so far past the edge. Yet, she didn't sink. She didn't fall. She floated. She soared. On wings of sex, fervor, and fire.
She found herself face down on the bed. Her arms had given out on her. Her backside was still raised on spread knees. Her feet kicked. Her toes curled. She bit the sheets she'd conjured seemingly so long ago. They barely muffled her screams.
Her body glistened with evidence of their coupling. Her skin was flushed with color and life. No place more so than her bum. Handprints marked her skin, already rosy from Atlas' thrusts.
She fluttered around Atlas. Constantly cumming over and over again. She wasn't given a second of rest anymore. Any plans or schemes were long gone from her mind.
As much as she tried, she couldn't focus on getting Atlas to somehow submit to her. It just wasn't possible. Her vision was clouded with white spots of pure euphoria.
Fleur's pussy desperately gripped the cock invading her depths. She felt like she should have been strangling the steel rod.
Still, Atlas sawed in and out of her. No place within her was left untouched. Every inch of him sent gasoline rushing through her veins, only fueling Fleur's fire. And oh how many inches he had to give~!
"Yesh~! Yesh~! Yesh~! Yesh~! Yesssssssh~!" Fleur cried into the sheets of the bed.
She bit down hard to muffle her final squeal of pleasure. Her arms could barely move but her hands fisted the sheets as well. Her whole body shook and quivered.
Evidence of her pleasure and arousal soaked the bed beneath her pussy. She was quite literally squirting. She hadn't stopped since Atlas began.
Her thighs were soaked with her fluids. As was Atlas' crotch. His cock shined and shimmered on every outstroke, pulling away with more of her feminine juices each time.
Pure sex filled the room. It was as if Fleur was painting him with her color and scent. He marked her in turn, from her skin to the deepest parts within her.
Fleur knew she would never be rid of him. Atlas, his scent, this pleasure would stain her for the rest of her life. A whimper escaped her throat at the thought. She was his.
Her next orgasm came twice as strong, bowling through her. Her mind was left fuzzy - fluttering and floating fucking fantastically!
Every curse she knew poured from her lips and still didn't manage to live up to everything she was feeling, "Putain~! Oh putain de bordel de merde~! You will fucking break meeeeee~! I shall never walk straight again, Atlas~! Oh, fuuuuuuuccckkkkk~!"
Atlas chuckled, never pausing his movements for a moment, "That's quite the dirty mouth you've got there, Fleur."
"Oh bordel~! I cannot stop cuuuummmmmmmiinngg~!" Fleur moaned into the bedsheets.
Atlas leaned over her back. His body engulfed hers as she engulfed him over and over in turn. His cock shifted, grinding along her clit with each thrust.
"Good~" He whispered, barely panting, in her ear.
Fleur felt her body seize and spasm. She tightened. She was flattened to the bed beneath her lover. His chest was solid against her back, his arms pushing her down, his legs flexing with powerful thrusts, all she could feel was Atlas.
The rest of the world faded into the void. Atlas was all there was. Her and Atlas. The pleasure shared between them. The flames they fanned. The climaxes wrought from her very soul.
Fleur was overwhelmed. So deliciously overwhelmed~! Taut with tension, her body writhed beneath him. Fleur was an ocean of sensation, set alight and constantly burning.
He pushed into her, diving deep into her depths. She clenched. Atlas stretched her open around him. She was a broken faucet - arousal and ecstasy pouring out of her. Atlas did nothing to stem the squirting flood.
Pleasure to the point of intoxication, Fleur was drunk. She moaned until she was breathless. Bliss. Pure bliss. Nothing else compared. She was taken, swept away on a wave of heady climaxes.
He was steel against her. He was steel within her. He was everywhere, everything. A balm for her bratty soul. Fuel for her fire. The hammer and anvil Fleur found herself molded against.
Fleur felt his corded muscles flex. She felt his cock throb. She felt her core pulse for him like some kind of wanton whore~!
Even outside the physical, Atlas was there, thrusting through her defenses like they were paper. Her magic reached out to him, accepting him into her core. Like flames, her magic licked at his magic. Atlas gave freely, bestowing Fleur with everything her magic begged for.
Their souls danced and twirled. At once separate and whole, they complimented each other. Her Veela fire roared and raged, absorbing magic and passion alike as fuel.
Atlas bore her flames, seemingly unbothered. Everything she consumed, he provided. And he never seemed to run dry.
The bird of fire and desire inside her preened and chirped at the unending font of energy. It grew. It thrived. It fed the excess back into him. Lust, passion, and magic were exchanged in a fiery cycle.
Atlas' soul led Fleur's on a magical dance. They twirled. They dipped. They flew together.
Fleur watched it all in her mind's eye. On two fronts, she was overwhelmed. In the physical, Atlas pounded her body into submission. Her nerves were on fire, her flesh weak and eagerly yielding to Atlas.
Magically, his soul seduced hers, plying and soothing her with sweet nothings and power that sent her soul fluttering and swooning. It was intoxicating, all-consuming in a way Fleur didn't even want to resist.
Atlas' body began to tense against her, growing tighter and tighter with each thrust. His soul spun hers into him like a dancer.
An unheard song crescendoed. The flames flared. Something built and built inside both of them. The climax, greater than the countless Fleur felt before, reared its beautiful, wonderful head~!
With a groan that Fleur felt in her bones, Atlas buried himself inside her. His soul lifted hers, holding her aloft so she felt like she was flying more so than ever. Everything exploded.
Her mind flashed white. Her eyes squeezed shut. She bit the bedsheets like she was trying to tear them. Her whole body tensed and twitched, tingling all over. The core of her being cried out. Her soul soared on wings of fire.
Pure heat, hotter than anything Fleur had ever felt, spilled within her. Atlas' hips bucked, trying to get impossibly deeper. He throbbed hard enough to make his cock jump inside her. His whole body engulfed her, inside and out. His soul did the same.
They came. They came together. They came apart at the seams. Atlas was laid bare before her and Fleur before him. Words could not describe the explosive climax. Fleur's mind wouldn't have been able to form anyway. Her mouth, even less so.
"A-Ahhnnnhhhhhh~! Mmmmaaauuuhhhmmmm~!" She could barely even moan her bliss.
"Oh fuuuu~!" Atlas groaned something incomprehensible. All Fleur heard was fireworks.
Atlas ground himself into her, coaxing them through their orgasms. Every movement sent bolts of pleasure to Fleur's core. She tightened. She squeezed. She clenched. Her walls quivered and fluttered around him uncontrollably.
Slowly, the explosion between them faded into the ether. Fleur whined, grinding out every last ounce of pleasure she could. She milked the orgasm for all it was worth. Only when her muscles stopped tensing did she stop.
Still, the aftershocks persisted. Her skin tingled. Her body twitched. Her mind rode waves of fading ecstasy. The fire in her soul dimmed and dwindled to red-hot embers.
They stayed like that for a while. Atlas buried to the hilt inside her. Fleur under him like he was the perfect weighted blanket.
Eventually, Atlas moved again. He pulled out of her. Fleur whimpered, trying to reach behind herself to hold his hips in place. Her arms didn't respond.
She felt so empty when he left. The feeling didn't last for long. Fleur felt a ripple in the air as he magicked himself clean. Then he sat on the bed and pulled her head into his lap. Her soul perked up, her mind was soothed, and her tummy fluttered as he held her there and gently stroked her hair.
"What a way to start the morning…" Atlas muttered to himself.
Fleur let herself relax and recover. She floated on silk and satin. The world outside this room was nonexistent to her. Her soul thrummed with power. Her core pulsed with waves of bliss. Fleur was so completely and utterly content. She would have lain there in Atlas' lap until the end of time.
Minutes later, she turned her head to look up at him. A pout played across her face. Atlas looked down at her with an amused smirk pulling at his lips.
"What's up, Fleur? Not satisfied?"
Fleur continued to silently pout but shook her head slightly.
"Then what is it? I can't read your mind. You'll have to use your words~" He teased.
Fleur scoffed, "Do not be obtuse, Atlas. You know what's bothering me."
"I really don't," Atlas simply said.
She looked away and worried at her lip before mumbling in a soft voice, "… I-I lost… again… I did not make you declare your love for me."
"Is that it?" Atlas asked with amusement.
Fleur nodded hesitantly.
"Fleur," He continued. "You're wonderful. Beautiful. Stunning. Fun. Lovely. I'm utterly ecstatic to have you in my life."
Fleur preened, her heart swelling alongside her ego. Of course~! It was only natural he would praise her~!
"But you're also almost impossibly weak to pleasure. There was absolutely no chance you would have made me lose my sense and declare something like that without meaning it."
"Y-You rogue!" Fleur squawked.
Atlas chuckled, "That being said. I am currently very, very fond of you. And I look forward to saying 'I love you' in the future when I mean it 100% and you're conscious enough to enjoy it."
Fleur's pout of outrage crumbled into a pleased smile, "Very well. I suppose that will do for now. I will be waiting, Atlas Black! Do not disappoint me!"
"I wouldn't dream of it."
New Coven Member Initiated Coven Members (9): Septima Vector, Luna Lovegood, Gabrielle Delacour, Bellatrix Black, Aurora Sinistra, Hermione Granger, Heather Potter, Daphne Greengrass, Fleur Delacour
5 to Luck, 5 to Willpower
Luck 515=56/100, Willpower 485=53/100
5 to Soul, 5 to Mind
Soul 545=59/100, Mind 565=61/100
38: Set Up and Spectacle
"We need to tell her," I asserted.
"Tell me what?" Fleur asked innocently.
Her current position didn't match her tone of voice. I was punishing her again. Well, it might be more appropriate to say we were playing our usual games.
All she wore was an open jean half-jacket on her top half. It obviously wasn't meant to be worn with nothing underneath it. It barely covered her breasts with its denim and left most of her torso and all of her midriff exposed. If she moved too much, it would come open all the way and nothing would cover her perfect tits.
Below that, the only thing that covered her lower half was a pair of cutoff jean shorts. Jean shorts that covered no more than a pair of panties. Her bum hung out and free, bubbly and perky as ever. A work of art could be found on the smooth skin there, painted in handprints and red marks on otherwise blemish-free flesh.
Her arms were held above her head, attached to a thin excuse for a chain to the ceiling. There was no doubt in my mind that Fleur could have escaped if she wanted to. If she wasn't having so much fun.
The outfit itself was entirely her idea. Hell, she just had the skimpy, high-fashion, designer clothes lying around somewhere. I hadn't had to magick anything into existence for this bit of play.
Fleur hung there of her own free will, ravished and glowing because of it. Her hair was a mess. Her chest heaved enticingly. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as I marked up her bum and left her dripping onto the floor. She'd soaked through the denim of her jean shorts.
What was this punishment about again…? At the moment, it didn't seem all that important. Some 'insult' or another she threw my way. We were taking a short break but we'd had an audience for a while now.
"Do we have to?" Heather asked, lounging on my bed as Shadow walked all over her to get comfortable on her stomach.
"It would seem to be prudent," Septima absently commented between marking papers.
"But she's my competition, isn't she?" Heather continued.
"Yes, and I shall win! I shall beat you, Sister Heather Potter!" Fleur insisted.
She looked way too proud for a woman who was currently tied up and still panting from punishment play…
"I'm not keeping this from her. She joined the coven. She's family now," I reasoned, putting my foot down.
"She is," Septima agreed. "And it would seem this plan has become something of a family activity."
Heather shrugged, "Okay, I don't have any real objections. Just thought I should mention it. I'm just glad to have help for once."
"You shall always have help from now on!" Fleur declared. "Even if we are opponents, we are sisters as well! The coven will support us both equally!"
"Well… maybe not equally this time. Heather's business is a bit more pressing at the moment," I said. "But, yeah, basically, Heather, you'll never be alone again."
Heather cracked a smile, "Heh, that'll show Petunia. Actually, this whole coven business will show her. She's always saying no one will ever want a relationship with a boyish girl like me. And now, I'm in an actual Witch's coven… She'll flip."
"That's if you ever want to interact with them again," I pointed out. "Even without the outcome we hope for from our plan, you wouldn't have to go back to them this summer. Sirius and I would always make sure of that."
Heather hesitated, "I… think I do. At least to throw some stuff in their faces. They might not have been good to me, per se, but they did look after me. Especially Petunia. Sometimes, I was the daughter she never had. Others, I was just a nuisance. Our relationship is… complicated."
I nodded, "The choice is yours. Just don't feel forced to do anything. People that love you are looking out for you now. Though, for Hermione, that always applied."
She blushed slightly, "She is pretty great… We'll see. I'll decide what I want to do with the Dursleys after everything else is finished."
"Good enough for me. But we're getting off-topic," I changed the subject. "Fleur needs to be brought in on the plan."
"But, of course!" Fleur puffed herself up. "How would you ever succeed in your plans without my excellence?"
I gave her bum a playful spank to shut her up. Fleur moaned, struggling tokenly against her bonds. Her back arched, almost enough to distract me. Still, I shook it off and focused for the moment.
"Anyway, Fleur," I rolled my eyes. "Would you agree that this tournament has been a mess from start to finish?"
Fleur nodded, "Oui. Sister Heather should not even be a champion! Not that she doesn't deserve it… But to be forced to compete!? Tres ridicule!"
I continued, "Well, we've found out why she was entered against her will. It's a plot to see Voldemort resurrected."
"Terrible! Do not worry, Sister Heather! I shall burn him to a crisp!" Fleur grew fiercely protective in an instant.
"Be my guest," Heather snorted.
I chuckled, "You may just get a chance. We're going along with the plot on purpose. And we'll be setting up a trap of our own with it."
Fleur gasped, "How devious!"
"We've already usurped Voldemort's inside man. We have powerful allies working with us, but the main trap is being laid by the coven. It involves one of our own so it's personal. I have a plan to deal with Voldemort once and for all."
"Wonderful! How can I help?"
"Err… That's the thing…" I explained. "The Triwizard Cup - the final trophy - is going to be trapped. It's a portkey. It'll take Heather to a graveyard where Voldemort will be holding his ritual. We'll have scoped out and prepared the location. But Heather still has to take it. Which means… you'll have to take a dive in the final task."
"Ahh! No, my glory, my prize, my victory~!" Fleur swooned dramatically.
"You have to Fleur. The whole trap hinges on Heather getting that portkey. She'll have backup, of course. We wouldn't send her into this alone. And we'll be right behind her. But you absolutely can't take her place."
Fleur grumbled, "Merde… I was in the lead too…"
"If it makes you feel better, no one will be thinking about the tournament after our trap is sprung. And you'll be part of the coven that ended Voldemort for good. Is that enough glory for you~?" I teased.
"Hmm," Fleur hummed, perking up slightly. "I suppose that will have to do. Yes… Yes! The world shall still remember the name 'Fleur Delacour'!"
"Gee, I wouldn't want to think you were just in this for the glory," Heather snarked.
Fleur looked scandalized and ashamed, "No! No, you have it all wrong, Sister Heather! I shall always help my sisters! I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression. My… my pride gets away from me sometimes…"
Heather grinned like a fox, "Really? You don't say…? I would have never guessed."
Fleur nodded soberly, not picking up on the sarcasm in Heather's voice, "Oui, it is one of my flaws. Pride is the sin I struggle with the most."
"Not Lust~?" Heather teased.
Fleur blushed scarlet, "I-I have no idea what you could mean… !"
Heather shot her a deadpan look of disbelief, blatantly taking in Fleur's current position. Fleur's blush crept down her neck and onto her chest.
"T-This is merely… punishment! Yes! Punishment! There is no Lust to be found here!" Fleur sputtered an excuse.
"None at all~?"
"No!" Fleur hesitated. "… Perhaps a touch…"
Heather grinned, "Good because I've been wanting in on this for a while now~"
Fleur gasped in realization like this was all planned, "Ah! Of course~! Come, join me in my supplication for forgiveness, Sister~! This Devil's lust cannot be sated by me alone~! But together~! We shall make him know defeat~!"
"So… no questions about the plan for Voldemort?" I cut in to ask in slight disbelief.
"Later, Devil," Fleur scoffed. "There are more important things afoot~!"
I stared at Fleur for a moment. She stood proud, unflappable, as if she hadn't just been let in on our secret plan to rid the world of evil. My eyes darted to Heather, finding her still grinning like a fox in the henhouse. I glanced at Septima.
"Don't look at me. I've papers to mark," She said without looking up.
"C'mon, Teach~ Don't you wanna punish me too~?" Heather teased and tempted.
I rolled my eyes. With a wave of my hand, Shadow was dumped from Heather's lap. My familiar glared at me. Heather was seized by my magic. She giggled as I brought her over next to Fleur and stripped her naked. Another wave of my hand had her chained up just like Fleur.
Fleur pouted, "Why does she get to be completely naked?"
Heather giggled, "Oh~ Yeah, Teach, it's almost like you're not even trying to hide your 'devilish lust' anymore~"
"Because she didn't have a skimpy, teasing outfit already prepared for this exact situation," I said.
"You don't know that~" Heather singsonged back.
Fleur sniffed, "It is not 'skimpy'. It is high fashion. I merely omitted a few key articles of clothing."
I stepped between them, one hand on Fleur's already tender cheeks and the other on Heather's bum, fresh and firm like the perfect canvas for me to paint my masterpiece on. They shuddered. Their backs arched, pushing back into my touch. All the while, the 'chains' kept them 'trapped'.
"Whatever. Let's see if you two can manage to 'sate my devilish lust'…"
"Uh, Fleur…?" Heather said hesitantly.
"Y-Yes, Sister Heather~?" Fleur panted.
"Maybe… Maybe we shouldn't be teasing him so much…"
"Bah~! Where is the fun in that~?! We shall accept all the punishment we have rightly earned with high heads and eager flesh~! Do your worst, Devil~!"
Heather chuckled to herself, "… I'm in danger."
"Not too late to back out," I whispered in her ear.
Heather shook her head with a laugh, "Ha! Are you kidding?! This will be fun! Give me everything you've got, Teach~!"
"Right…" I sighed. "I should have known better than to think you would back down from a free spanking. Ready, girls?"
"Do your worst! I shall never yield!" Fleur declared.
My hand came down on her bum, making it jiggle and shake. Fleur squealed instantly, "I yield~! Ohhhhh~! I yield~!"
Heather burst into giggles despite her situation. A situation I was quick to remind her of, "You're next, Heather."
She wiggled her hips at me enticingly, "Try me-… *Whaaap~!*"
My hand smacking against her skin interrupted her taunt. Soon enough, Heather's squeals and moans joined Fleur's, "Ahhhhh~! Oooowwwwhhh~! T-Teach~!"
IIIII
The Grind of Three Months
Stats
15 to Body, 10 to Mind, 12 to Soul
Body 5315=68/100, Mind 6110=71/100, Soul 5912=71/100
Combat
4 to Dueling, 5 to Melee, 5 to Awareness, 5 to Focus, 6 to Evasion, 6 to Attack, 6 to Agility, 8 to Defense, 8 to Tactics, 10 to Accuracy
Dueling 554=59/100, Melee 105=15/100, Awareness 525=57/100, Focus 525=57/100, Evasion 486=54/100, Attack 476=53/100, Agility 516=57/100, Defense 468=54/100, Tactics 528=60/100, Accuracy 4110=51/100
Combat is now Tier 6
Magic
3 to Charms, 3 to Runes, 4 to DADA, 4 to Wandless Magic, 4 to Occlumency, 5 to Transfiguration, 5 to Magic Theory, 6 to Wanded Magic, 7 to Arithmancy, 9 to Dark Arts, 18 to Black Blood Magic
Charms 603=63/100, Runes 563=59/100, DADA 634=67/100, Wandless Magic 464=50/100, Occlumency 484=52/100, Transfiguration 575=62/100, Magic Theory 675=72/100, Wanded Magic 616=67/100, Arithmancy 537=60/100, Dark Arts 539=62/100, Black Blood Magic 3018=48/100
Social
3 to Seduction, 5 to Teaching, 6 to Perception, 7 to Speech, 7 to Willpower
Seduction 503=53/100, Teaching 525=57/100, Perception 366=42/100, Speech 437=50/100, Willpower 537=60/100
Creation
6 to Conjuration, 8 to Wards, 8 to Ritual Magic
Conjuration 416=47/100, Wards 448=52/100, Ritual Magic 538=61/100
Time passed quicker than I realized. I was just always so busy. From the Grind to teaching classes to the coven, my days were jam-packed from dawn til dusk and then a good way into the night. It felt like I was just welcoming Fleur into the coven yesterday and yet it was the day of the Third Task already.
Progress from the Grind was plentiful. Both for myself and the people I was training. I saw myself reaching Tier 6 in Combat before the Third Task. Yet Heather still managed to eke out a win against me every so often in our spars.
Her magical core was growing in leaps and bounds. Her reflexes were as fast as lightning. She could match me in just about every physical contest. And her instincts in a fight were razor-sharp. She'd even managed to impress Mad-Eye Moody.
Despite my best efforts to expand her spell repertoire, her Magic was still only Tier 3. So I still dominated her in the Magic category but Heather was already Tier 5 for Combat.
She made the discrepancy work for her though. She stuck to a few key spells that she'd practiced to mastery and beyond. I was pretty sure her stunner alone could take down a bull elephant.
My fighting style was more varied and unpredictable. I still relied on raw power in places. But in others, I used unique and unheard-of spells to gain my advantage. I'd certainly read of more than enough spells to last a lifetime. And I might as well put that knowledge and high Magical Theory to work for me.
That was just the Grind for direct combat, only about half of our planned trap. The majority of our trap for Voldemort came from the preparation and ritual that would deal with him once and for all.
I'd been lucky enough to find a suitable ritual in "Rituals Through History, Good and Bad" - the mundane, informative, helpful, and utterly fascinating book Bella borrowed from Grimmauld Place for me. Well, I'd found more information on the ritual I'd already been thinking of - the one that banished the 'Immortal Titan' in Ancient Greece.
The Wizard Kronos was a Dark Lord who was influential enough in Greek Pre-History to become part of the culture's myths and legends. He'd also created something that could be charitably called Horcruxes. Proto-Horcruxes, if you will.
According to the helpful history book of rituals, Kronos wasn't chopped up after being defeated by Zeus - another mythological figure who was, in reality, a Wizard (a series of Wizards, in fact). His soul was in pieces before that as well. Zeus performed a ritual that gathered those soul pieces and banished them to 'Tartarus'.
There were still problems with the ritual, of course. In the original, Zeus powered the ritual with the sacrifice of his own newborn son. Which… just wasn't happening. No chance in Hell. However, I did appreciate that the book didn't try to censor that fact or make it more palatable for a modern audience.
The solution I'd found to the power requirement issue was actually found in the other book Bella borrowed for me - "Most Sinister Rituals of the Baleful Dark and Devouring Black".
Most of the rituals found there were bunk. As if they were as heinous as they were simply for the shock value. But here and there, I found some gems.
One of those gems provided me with a solution. It was a ritual that was designed to summon and subjugate Angels of all things. Well, it called them 'Angels'. Based on the biblically accurate nature of their description, I had a feeling they were actually Outsiders of one variety or another. Again, that just wasn't happening.
But the way the Angel summoning ritual was fueled was useful to me. So I stole just that part and worked to implement it with the banishing ritual. It still required sacrifice. But it was a sacrifice paid in blood - literal blood, not lives - and binding.
How I took care of the binding portion would be a surprise but I figured we'd have more than enough Death Eaters to bleed for a sacrifice. And this way, we wouldn't be a party to wholesale Human sacrifice. I had no problem with killing Death Eaters, but ritually sacrificing them was a step too far for me. None of us needed that taint on our souls.
The blood sacrifice also played very nicely into my ace in the hole. Which, surprisingly enough, wasn't the ritual. At least, not entirely. That card held just two words on the front: Family Magic.
Black Blood Magic was a Discipline I'd slowly been dipping my toes in for a while now - since it was unlocked, really. I was hesitant with my exploration. Careful beyond belief. Blood Magic wasn't something you dove into without thinking. That was a good way to find yourself quite literally drowning in blood.
I didn't even think about putting it into practice until I'd read every tome and grimoire the Black Family had to offer on the subject. Which was understandably a large selection. It was the House's Family Magic, after all. Generations of Blacks walked this path before me. I carefully followed in their footsteps.
Only a single tome gave me the confidence to practice the Discipline to the point I had. It was charitably titled "Black Blood Magic: A Guide for Inbred Idiots".
I imagine the author was exiled from the Black family for some reason or another in a generation long past. Their takes on the House as a whole were certainly scathing enough for it. But due to that - and perhaps because of it -, the advice within was much more cautious and well-reasoned.
The other family tomes treated Blood Magic as a quick path to dark power or like the authors had never and could never be bitten by it. Like they would never have their own blood literally turn on them.
"A Guide for Inbred Idiots" wrote about the Discipline like it was a Dragon or a Nundu. Beautiful, awesome, haunting, but most of all, useful so long as you knew what to look out for. Like those creatures, Blood Magic could be used for many things. But it had to be tamed or conquered first. It was a ruthless, methodical, and unforgiving perspective.
I was immediately taken. It was the pull of the Dark Arts all over again. But somehow more. Essential like the blood that flowed through my veins. It was my birthright as a Black. I could easily see how the other authors were sucked into their own hype and arrogance.
And where I conquered the mystic appeal of the Dark Arts, I conquered the instinctive urge for Blood Magic as well. Rituals, Charms, Curses, anything could be empowered by blood. It wasn't light or dark. It was primal, almost primitive. It was perhaps the first magic man cast, harnessing nature by the sacrifice of his own lifeblood.
It had become an important part of our trap as I adapted the plan with the addition of new information and advantages. With the day of the Third Task here, Bella and I had gone ahead to the graveyard where Voldemort would hold his resurrection ritual.
Hidden runes lined the perimeter of the graveyard. They were carved into the stone of the walled fence. Drawing the Runes themselves in blood was just asking for trouble. It left you at once, vulnerable to sabotage and weak as your blood was 'spread thin'.
As such, the Runes were anointed with just a drop of blood. My blood, Bella's blood, or even Sirius' blood. His magical connection to Heather as her Oath-Sworn Godfather would be important to protect her. He'd already gone back to keep Heather and the others company with Narcissa.
Bella and I stayed to finish the preparations. Parts of the ritual were set up as well. Lines and circles, designs were burnt into the ground and covered by false grass. Nothing was connected yet though. We didn't want to give Voldemort a chance to sense something was up.
To that end, the Runes weren't powered either. Just ready and connected to me and Bella by minuscule strands of Blood Magic. When activated, the Runes would lead to Wards. A great dome would spring into place around the graveyard. At that point, it was do or die. For us and for Voldemort.
We prepared the area. We set the trap. We waited…
IIIII
"-And don't play around. In and straight to the cup. But don't go too fast! Don't want to miss something easy, yeah? I'll tease you relentlessly for that. Got everything? Jersey? Token? Wand…?" Sirius worried over Heather as they stood, preparing for the Third Task to start.
He couldn't help himself. He felt like a mother hen! But this was James and Lily's daughter. If anything went wrong, they'd curse him back to life when he got to the Afterlife. He'd already messed things up for them once. He wouldn't do so again.
He loved Heather more than life itself. He couldn't let anything happen to her. Still, so much was happening. So much was about to happen. Things that would be out of his hands. And while he approved of the upcoming trap, he couldn't quite quell his nerves. Mostly of something happening before Heather could make it to the watchful eyes of Atlas and Bella.
Heather rolled her eyes, "Yes, Padfoot. I'll be fine. We trained for this. I'm as prepared as I'll ever be. Hermione even crafted a spell to help me navigate the maze."
Hermione blushed slightly at her side, "It was nothing… But you better still use it, Heather Lilyanne Potter! I won't have my hard work going to waste!"
"Relax, Sirius, Hermione. Heather will be fine," Septima reassured.
"Yep~!" Luna chimed. "She just has to get past the Wolfgangers at the beginning and she should be home free~! Be sure to watch out for their Howling Hood Tactics~!"
Near their group, similar scenes were taking place. Victor Krum nodded stoically as his betrothed princess brushed off his shoulders and fixed his jersey. She spoke to him in a soft voice as she did.
Cedric Diggory had a good portion of Hufflepuff House and a lone Ravenclaw gathered around him. 'Puffs stuck together, after all. And Cho Chang was more than willing to support and worry over her boyfriend.
Fleur was surrounded by her family. They were easily drawing the most eyes from the audience. Three goddess-like Veela in one place tended to do that. The glare Fleur's father sent those he caught staring seemed to keep anyone from getting any 'bright' ideas. Meanwhile, Fleur ranted arrogantly.
"-I shall be victorious, of course! I am the best Witch here! Soon, the sheep shall bear witness to my glory!"
She was merely pretending, channeling the persona everyone expected to see. Fleur knew she wouldn't win, couldn't win. The plan required Heather to be the first to the cup.
Fleur's job was to take a dive and prevent the other champions from getting too close. She was still a bit vexed by that role but she would do her part. No one wanted any slip-ups this close to the end of the game. If she channeled a bit of that vexation into her performance, well, that was to be expected, yes?
Gabrielle nodded along with Fleur's ravings, smirking knowingly, "Of course, Fleur. Victory is practically assured."
Internally, Fleur pouted slightly at Gabrielle's purposeful exclusion of 'her', "Yes… Victory… No matter! My name will ring throughout the ages soon enough! History shall remember the name Fleur Delacour… Black…"
She added the last word in barely a whisper. Gabrielle's smirk grew. Apolline chuckled to herself. Sebastion very pointedly did not scowl. He was better than that. And at least Fleur did not completely omit her maiden name.
The Hogwarts Quidditch Pitch had been completely converted for this task. Sets of stands had been erected for the audience to sit in and watch from. But most of the pitch was taken up by a sprawling hedge maze. Even now, the occasional roar or plume of fire could be seen from within the maze, warning the audience and the champions of what they would soon face.
Spirits were high. A large crowd had gathered, the champions were ready, the judges were watching, and even the Minister of Magic was there. Though with the recent troubles of his administration, Cornelius Fudge wasn't receiving the welcome he'd hoped for.
"Ah, Heather Potter! Just the Girl-Who-Lived I was looking for," Fudge approached Heather and her retinue, trying for a joke to break the ice between them.
Heather scowled, keeping her reply terse and tense, "Fudge. What do you want?"
Fudge spoke loudly, trying to draw attention to the fact he was talking with the Girl-Who-Lived, "Why, I just thought I'd come and wish the champions a bit of last-minute luck!"
"Really?" Heather deadpanned, making her skepticism known. "So you're not just approaching me specifically? 'Cause you walked straight past Victor and Cedric and I'm pretty sure Fleur's father glared at you when you tried to check out his daughter."
Fudge chuckled awkwardly, "Mere coincidence and misunderstanding, I assure you."
Heather snorted, "Yeah? No ulterior motives, Fudgey boy?"
"Please don't call me that…" Fudge shivered before quickly recovering. "But now that you mention it! Wouldn't it just be grand if you were endorsed as the Ministry's Champion? I just thought it was such a shame that Hogwarts wouldn't claim you. And as Lord Triwizard and Minister of Magic, I have the power to give you the Ministry at your back."
"I think I'd rather die in the maze," Heather grimaced.
"Come now, my girl-…" Fudge was interrupted by a literal growl from Sirius that made him reconsider his wording. "… Miss Potter. I have a jersey with our names on it and everything! Think of the good publicity! I think this could be the start of a very… profitable… relationship for both of us!"
Sirius was already on edge because of the tournament and trap planned afterward. He so didn't need this pasty wanker trying to put political moves on his Goddaughter as well! He suddenly shifted into his Animagus form.
There was a thunderous bark. Fudge jumped. Heather smirked. Hermione covered her face with a palm. Almost everyone had their attention drawn to the confrontation between the Minister and the Girl-Who-Lived.
Sirius snarled and snapped his jaws. Fudge took a few frantic, nervous steps backward. Satisfied with the added space, Sirius shifted back. Even then, he fixed Fudge with a glare that set fear into the Minister's heart.
"Fudge. If you get within five feet of my Goddaughter ever again… Well, like Umbridge, they'll never find your body," Sirius growled.
"I-I say… !" Fudge sputtered, immediately doing what he did best: deflecting. "Won't you do something about this, Dumbledore?"
Dumbledore hummed, hiding a smirk, "Hmm? What was that? I'm afraid I'm becoming a bit hard of hearing in my old age…"
Fudge looked everywhere for support. He wouldn't find any. Everywhere he looked, he saw baleful looks and hostility. His time as Minister was so close to being up. Everything he'd done with the tournament - his last gambit - was clearly failing right before his eyes!
Then his nightmare continued. He saw Narcissa Black making her way down from the audience stands, casual and calm as can be. She took her time, not rushing for a moment. But Fudge knew she wouldn't hesitate to tear him apart! He had to get out of here!
He scrambled for an excuse, "W-Well-… That's-… I-I-… Do I smell smoke?"
"Oh, no~!" Hermione exclaimed in the fakest sounding voice possible. "You appear to have caught fire, Minister!"
Fudge didn't pick up on the obvious insincerity, "M-My word!"
His fancy 'Lord Triwizard' dress robes were smoking and smoldering. It didn't take long for them to burst into actual flames. Fudge fumbled for his wand. Shaky hands missed and dropped it to the ground. He scrambled to his knees to pick it up. All the while, the flames charred his robes beyond recognition and began to lick at his flesh…
Eventually, Fudge managed to get a hold of his wand and put the flames out. His robes were ruined. His skin was pink and tender. It hurt to move. Worst of all was the embarrassment. No, worst of all was that nobody raised a wand to help him…
Still, Fudge breathed a sigh of relief. Then the fire started right back up. He screamed. He squealed. He began sprinting about wildly as if he could put out the fire that way somehow.
"Oh, I hope no one reminds him of the Flame Freezing Charm~" Luna's tone was 'innocent' but her words were anything but. She could be surprisingly vindictive.
Heather's group turned their attention to Hermione, leaving Fudge to run about like a flaming chicken with its head cut off. Heather smirked at her, raising a knowing eyebrow. Sirius and Septima just looked kind of perplexed that Hermione had just done that.
Hermione shrugged, "What? I lit Professor Snape on fire for less."
That casual admittance sent Sirius into a barking, laughing fit that he didn't soon recover from…
IIIII
Dusk set over Hogwarts. At the Third Task, the energy in the air was like magic. The event was about to begin. Dumbledore stood to say a few words on behalf of the judges.
"Hello, hello, yes, yes," He tried to dismiss the unnecessary applause he was greeted with.
Eventually, he just snapped slightly, "Do you want to hear what I have to say or not?! Yes? Well then, shut up, sit down, and listen!"
Dumbledore's voice rolled out over the audience and they quickly complied. Dumbledore muttered to himself, uncaring that his Sonorus Charm picked up every word he said, "I'm getting too damn old for these simpletons…"
A moment later, he was smiling as if he hadn't said anything, "Thank you all for coming! And thank you for waiting for this 'illustrious' event to start."
The air quotes were audible but Dumbledore just pushed on nonchalantly, "I'm sure you all know our champions by now. If you don't, you obviously can't be trusted with remembering four simple names. I'm sure your children are very disappointed…
"No matter. The task today is very simple. Our four champions will have to venture into this maze and face its challenges. The first to reach the cup at the center will be the new Triwizard Champion!
"And I feel I must remind you that the challenges in this maze would send most of you running as if your behinds had been set aflame. Speaking of which, I'd like to thank Cornelius Fudge for the pre-task entertainment and his contributions to the task itself. Our 'venerated' Minister of Magic and Lord Triwizard has made some key changes to the task. I'll allow him to tell you about them himself," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled with wicked amusement.
Fudge stood, grumbling as his prior 'misfortune' and current ruined state was put on full display. Still, he tried to make himself seem appropriately put together, "Thank you, Headmaster Dumbledore."
"Witches and Wizards! I stand before you today as not just your estimable Minister of Magic! But as Lord Triwizard as well!" He declared, trying for grandiose and landing on egotistical. "And oh boy, do I have a show for you!"
"Monsters! Curses! Traps and pitfalls! This maze has it all! And for that, you can thank me, your Lord Triwizard!" Fudge's greedy ego could be heard clearly by all who were listening.
Dumbledore coughed, commanding more respect with the slight sound than Fudge did with his whole speech, "Ahem… I do hope you ensured the maze was completely safe for our students, Cornelius…"
"A-Ah, o-of course, Headmaster Dumbledore… Perfectly safe," Fudge stumbled over the interruption. Internally, he winced. All he could do was cross his fingers and hope none of the champions ran into the Dementors…
"Anyway!" Fudge quickly regained his momentum to distract from any suspicion. "Not only will the task be more thrilling this way, but we, the audience, will be able to watch every moment of it. I've been able to secure a viewing method based on a complicated magical illusion that shall be left unexplained. No need to bore everyone."
Fudge waved at the bulky and all-together cumbersome set of canvas screens in front of the maze. It almost resembled a Muggle jumbotron. The screens flashed to life, providing real-time Wizarding photos of the champions. Heather, of course, stuck her tongue out at the unseen camera.
Absently, Sirius made a note to consult Narcissa and see if they could sue Fudge and the Ministry for stealing the Twins' intellectual property. Even if they didn't realize it, Fudge and the Ministry were ripping off the WWO.
It wasn't the same. Much more inelegant and primitive than the Twins' work. But Sirius had worked hard to secure discreet magical patents for the next generation of Marauders. He would be damned if the Ministry thought it could steal a march on them.
"And that's not all!" Fudge continued. "I have also raised the ultimate prize of the tournament! From one to two-… no, ten thousand Galleons!
"To be paid in Ministry-issued bonds…" Fudge sneakily added in a whisper that only the most attentive listeners caught.
"But enough dilly-dallying!" Fudge bowled over his own whisper before anyone else could realize his penny-pinching. "I think it's high time we get this task on the broom! Champions? To your marks! Ready! Go!"
"And they're off!" Ludo Bagman cried into his microphone, left in charge of the general commentary of the task.
With the scores as close as they were, the champions were all set to enter the maze at approximately the same time. Mere minutes separated them, with Fleur being the first to officially go. Heather followed her a minute later. Cedric and Victor followed after that.
Almost immediately, the champions split up, each taking a different path through the hedges. The views displayed by the illusion on the 'jumbotron' split up to follow each of them.
Cedric Diggory jogged through the maze. He didn't go fast enough to tire himself out, but not slow enough to sacrifice his chances at victory at the same time. In just a few minutes, he'd already conquered the first challenge the maze threw at him - a large swarm of Doxies - and was on to the next.
He ran around a corner and the ground suddenly gave out beneath his feet. Reality blurred, going hazy with a slight fog. The camera followed him, capturing everything as the scene around him shifted.
Cedric found himself sitting in a posh office, one that reminded him of his father's at the Ministry. As he looked around, trying to get his bearings, the door behind him swung open and a man entered.
"Good morning," The man greeted. "I'm sorry to have kept you waiting but I'm afraid my walk has become rather sillier recently and so it takes rather long to get to places."
He hung his hat up on a rack. Cedric watched, perplexed as this strange, strange man pranced to sit at the desk in front of him. His leg went all the way around his body as he turned. He bounced and bobbled with each step. He lunged himself into motion. All in all, his walk was rather… silly.
The man sat down, throwing his legs up on his desk, and asked, "Now, what was it again?"
Cedric found himself speaking without meaning to, "W-Well, Sir, I have a silly walk. And I'd like to obtain a Ministry grant to help me develop it."
Outside the maze, the audience watched in disbelief as Cedric demonstrated his 'silly walk'. He walked with a jerking stutter to his steps. The other man in the room watched with considering nods as if he was seriously evaluating the 'silliness' of Cedric's walk.
Bagman was left uncharacteristically speechless, "I-… What's all this then…?"
Dumbledore chuckled, poking fun at Fudge, "Business as usual for the Ministry, isn't it, Cornelius?"
Fudge laughed awkwardly, "H-Haha… These traps must have a mind of their own… H-How ridiculous…"
Still, as the scene continued, some in the audience couldn't help but draw comparisons between this 'Ministry of Silly Walks' and the Ministry of Magic. Amos Diggory in particular couldn't help but laugh at the scathing parody of Ministry bureaucracy.
The scene around Cedric shifted again after a short while. Cedric found himself walking along and pulling a cart through a green field on an overcast day. The clops of what sounded like a horse could be heard approaching him from behind.
"Old woman!" Someone hailed.
"Man!" Cedric shot back.
"Man, sorry. What knight lives in that castle over there?"
The person who hailed Cedric trotted up beside him as he dragged his cart. Surprisingly, he wasn't on horseback. Instead, he was trotting as if he were an employee of the Ministry of Silly Walks while a squire followed behind, clapping together a pair of half-coconuts. The man also happened to look an awful lot like one Cornelius Fudge…
"I'm 19," Cedric didn't directly reply to Fudge's question.
"What?"
"I'm 19. I'm not old."
"Well, I can't just call you man."
"'Could say Cedric."
"I didn't know you were called Cedric."
"Well, you didn't bother to find out, did you?"
"I did say sorry about the 'Old Woman' but from behind, you look-…"
"What I object to is that you automatically treat me like an inferior!"
"Well, I am Minister!"
"Oh, Minister, eh, very nice. And how d'you get that, eh? By exploiting the workers! By hanging on to outdated imperialist dogma which perpetuates the economic and social differences in our society. If there's ever going to be any progress with the-…"
Outside the maze, the real Fudge sputtered. He never expected to have his likeness dragged into this strange vision-like trap! How was he supposed to deny things he said but didn't say!?
The audience was caught between uproarious laughter and bouts of consideration. Was this real life? Or was this fantasy? Either way, it made Fudge into a fool. As the sketch-like trap continued, parallels were drawn. It wasn't the exact same as reality. But Vision Cedric's message of bucking the oppressor came through anyway.
"-Listen. Strange toad women lying in ponds distributing swords is no basis for a system of government. Supreme executive power derives from a mandate from the masses, not from some farcical aquatic ceremony!" Cedric lectured.
Some in the audience nodded despite the parody of the scene. Fudge was sorely tempted to turn off the screen that showed Cedric. He knew he'd never get away with so obviously cutting the feed that showed one of the tournament's champions during a task though. Instead, he tried to deflect.
"Look!" Fudge shouted. "Victor Krum is facing a Boggart! How interesting! Much more interesting than some witless sketch!"
His attempt was heavy-handed but it did succeed in drawing the audience's attention away from Cedric's situation. Not long after, Cedric's screen was discreetly muted.
Victor Krum had been doing well in the maze up until this point. He kept his cool, cursing his way through various magical creatures and navigating tricky enchanted traps.
He even felled a Troll with a branch he transfigured into a hunting spear. Well, it felled itself with its own momentum as it charged straight onto the pointy end as Victor planted the opposite end of the spear in the ground for leverage.
Then he ran into the Boggart. It was a creature he'd encountered before. One he should have had no trouble with. But it seemed the form his Boggart took - his greatest fear - had changed with the tournament.
He saw his betrothed. He saw Anya, floating there as if underwater. Her normally perfect skin was pale and clammy. Her body was limp. Her eyes - usually so full of life and light that she only spared for him - were dead and cold. She… She looked so small. So delicate. So… lifeless…
Victor froze for a moment. Outside the maze, the audience gasped. Fudge winced, his deflection backfiring. He could only hope no one made the connection between the Boggart's floating state as if underwater and the original plan for the Second Task. Even if he wasn't involved with that plan, he knew he would bear the blame.
Karkaroff sprung to his feet, his wand already out. Victor's betrothed was his student too. Seeing her corpse like this… So suddenly… So lifelessly… He reacted without even thinking.
Fudge squawked, dropping to the floor as a curse flew over his head. Thankfully, Dumbledore stopped Karkaroff from throwing another at him.
It wasn't that he didn't sympathize with Karkaroff. He just had to remind his colleague - and himself - that this was a contest. And that a Boggart was something the champions should have reasonably expected. Still, his eyes twinkled dangerously in Fudge's direction…
Eventually, Victor recovered enough to cast the necessary spell, "R-Riddikulus…"
Despite his stuttering, Victor put all his power into the cast. The Boggart shifted and split into two figures - Bagman and Crouch in the female forms they took for the Second Task. The two gender-bent cheerleaders immediately struck up a dancing chant.
"We were wrong! We are idiots! Blame us! Blame us! Blame us and the Ministry! Give me a 'D'! Give me an 'A'! Give me a 'F'! Give me a 'T'! Give me a 'M-O-R-O-N-S'! Daft morons~!"
The Boggart swelled and swelled as it chanted. Before it could repeat its chant, it quite literally popped from the power Victor put into his spell. Once it was gone, Victor couldn't stop himself from slumping to the ground, more emotionally drained than magically.
A shuddering breath left his lungs. Seeing Anya like that… It was simply too much when he wasn't expecting it. He… He needed a moment.
As he sat there and tried to pull himself back together, a comforting warmth fell over him. A hand touched his shoulder. Victor looked up to find his competitor looking at him with sympathy in her eyes.
Fleur Delacour was the first champion in the maze. But she didn't make a beeline for the cup as the audience would have expected her to. Her inevitable loss still stung slightly. But it didn't matter. There were more important things to take care of.
Instead of going for the win, Fleur looped back around to the start of the maze and waited. She had a job to do. Heather ran past her. Fleur's job was to prevent the other two champions from reaching the cup before her coven sister.
Cedric fell into a trap rather quickly. Fleur was left to catch back up to Victor and follow him. She watched his entire encounter with the Boggart. She watched him collapse afterward.
To her, it was clear he was out of the competition for the moment. But she couldn't leave him like this. Her Allure burned. Not with lust or desire. But with a different kind of passion. As a Veela, Fleur was uniquely suited to sharing her compassion with others.
And so she sat by Victor. Her Allure soothed his frayed nerves with compassion and empathy. She was a shoulder to lean on for him. One he desperately needed at the moment.
With three champions seemingly out of the competition, the audience naturally turned its attention to the last one remaining. They were just in time to watch Heather Potter down a Chimaera with a Stunning Spell. The awesome feat of magical power left many reeling. They didn't see the tense battle that proceeded it.
Heather blew on the end of her wand like a smoking gun. Her infamy and power were firmly cemented in the audience's minds. This was the Girl-Who-Lived. And she was here to win.
They watched as she waltzed, strolled - strutted, really - up to the Triwizard Cup. Then she seemed to look directly into the invisible 'camera' watching her.
Heather grinned, "Showtime."
She took hold of the cup and disappeared with the telltale swirl of a portkey. The audience waited for her to appear in front of the maze with bated breath. She never did…
"M-My word…" Bagman muttered into his microphone, as stunned and speechless as everyone else watching. "It… It seems we have a winner! But where'd she go? Wasn't she supposed to portkey right back here? And what'd she mean by 'showtime'…?"
As the audience tried to figure out what went wrong, a new thread was created on the WWO. One simply titled 'The End… '. It was pushed to the top of the students' pages, whether they joined it or not. And it was broadcasting something…
Fred and George Weasley hadn't been brought in on the coven's full plan. But they had been briefed on this part of it. And they had roles to play here. They quickly ran down from the stands to the 'jumbotron'. With Sirius' help and some quick spellwork, they patched the feed from WWO into the big screens.
The first thing the task's audience heard was a raspy, tortured voice like nails on a chalkboard, "Take the girl. Hurry…"
39: Helping Heather Potter
Heather knew the portkey was coming. It still sucked. Her world spun. Her head rolled. And her landing was less than comfortable. She mentally cursed Mad-Eye Moody. Peg-legged bastard probably made the portkey extra rough to teach her a lesson on 'Constant Vigilance' or something.
Looking around, she knew where she was. They'd done a couple of dry runs of the plan. Having someone who could rip every little secret out of Barty Jnr's head really paid off. Heather probably knew what was waiting for her in the graveyard as well as Voldemort did.
She was still alone for now but she could hear footsteps getting closer. Hurrying, Heather activated her token and then acted as if she'd passed out from the portkey.
The token was essentially a magical beacon. It transmitted her location to the corresponding tokens in the coven's possession. It also broadcasted a signal to the WWO just like the spell the Twins used for Atlas' trial.
Hermione, Atlas, and Dumbledore had crafted the tokens specifically for their plan. Heather almost chuckled at the memory of Hermione finding out she would be working directly with Albus 'fricking' Dumbledore. She only just managed to stop herself. Right. She was supposed to be acting unconscious. Bleeeeehhhh…
"Take the girl. Hurry…"
Heather hid a wince. That voice was just about the worst thing she'd ever heard. It was at once infantile and gravelly, as if someone had taken a baby and thrown it through a woodchipper and it somehow survived to talk in that voice.
"Y-Yes, M-Master!"
She let herself fall limp as she was tied to a gravestone. It took all of her willpower to do so. She recognized that second voice as well. Wormtail the Rat… She mentally promised herself that he wouldn't leave this graveyard alive.
"Wake her. I grow tired of waiting," The first voice said.
Heather felt a jolt of electricity run through her veins. She knew the feeling of being hit with a Reviving Charm. It didn't do its job effectively but Heather pretended it did. She came awake with a start.
"Whew! What a rush! Did anyone get the scale count of the Dragon that hit me?"
Her 'captors' obviously weren't expecting her to wake up that way. Heather nearly snorted. They obviously didn't know her very well.
Heather took in her 'captors'. Wormtail was… Wormtail. No change there. Still a pathetic, sniveling rat of a man. She couldn't figure out why he was holding a baby bundle though…
"Just you, Wormtail?" Heather spat his name like a curse. "Doesn't seem like your style, kidnapping me like this."
Wormtail hissed, "Quiet, girl! You are in the presence of Lord Voldemort! Show respect and fear!"
"Where?" Heather gasped in 'shock'. Internally, she just smirked.
"Here, you pissant! He is right here!" Wormtail spat. The bundle in his arms stayed suspiciously silent.
"Uh… you sure? It just looks like a baby to me," Heather asked. "For shame, Wormtail. Kidnapping babies and teenage girls? Why, some might begin to question your strength of character."
Wormtail sputtered, "I-I-! Wha-!? I'm not a nonce!"
"Could have fooled me. The evidence doesn't seem to be in your favor there," Heather taunted.
"S-Say that to my face-… !"
"Silence…" The baby bundle finally spoke up in the cold, grating voice that set Heather's hair on end. "Turn me around, Wormtail."
Wormtail instantly clammed up. He complied with the order, his whole body shaking as he did. The thing inside the bundle came into view and Heather winced. It was not a pretty sight. A strange parody of an infant, gaunt and disfigured, looked back at Heather.
Despite herself, Heather couldn't keep the slight tremor from her voice, "V-Voldemort. You've certainly looked better. I think I preferred you as a face on the back of Quirrel's head."
Voldemort ignored her quip, his voice almost reverent, "Heather Potter. My fated enemy…"
"Heh, your fated enemy is a teenage girl? What, am I that scary?" Heather smirked.
"Your fear betrays you…"
"I don't know what you're talking about. Like I could ever be afraid of an aborted fetus."
Voldemort's face twisted into a cruel smirk, "Your attempts at diversion are… amusing. They shall not save you. Nothing will."
"Oh no! I'm ~soooo~ scared!" Heather mocked him.
"You should be…" Voldemort intoned menacingly.
Heather shivered as that grating voice tugged at her nerves. She knew the plan. She knew she wasn't alone. But right now, it certainly felt as if she was.
Faced with the monster that took her parents from her, the monster that still haunted some of her dreams… All Heather could do was bury her fear deep. She quipped, she taunted, and she bought herself as much time as she possibly could.
Heather snorted, "What, are you going to kill me or something? While I'm tied to a gravestone? How sporting of you."
"Don't worry, Potter. I won't kill you yet. Our final battle has not yet come…" Voldemort said.
"Then why am I here?!" Heather snapped, struggling against her bindings.
"To aid your greatest enemy against your will. To see me reborn. To herald my return…" Voldemort's words were heavy with gravitas.
"I knew this tournament was bullshit…" Heather grumbled. "Did you get Crouch to help you or something?"
Voldemort chuckled to himself, "In a way. You were entered against your will so you would be brought before me now. Everything ends with you and I, Heather Potter…"
"Ends with us?" Heather asked incredulously. "That's such bullshit. You're just a self-absorbed narcissist with a God complex!"
"God complex…? No, Heather, I am a god… I am… Immortal."
Heather rolled her eyes, "Gee, thanks, just go and demonstrate exactly what I mean right after I say it, why don't you?"
"You shall soon see the truth in my words," Voldemort assured. "The whole world will see the truth. I have conquered Death and Fate."
"Fate," Heather scoffed. "That's a new one."
"We were both bound by it, Heather…" Voldemort explained cryptically. "It is the cause of everything wrong in your life. The only difference between me and you is that I've taken Fate into my own hands and broken it."
"You know what else is the cause of everything wrong in my life? You," Heather shot back.
"Perhaps… But Fate was what directed me to you in the first place."
"What…?"
"There's a prophecy, Heather. One concerning the both of us. It is what forced my hand, forced me to deal with you as a mere babe…"
"Which you failed to do," Heather reminded smugly.
"And yet, you are still an orphan," Voldemort pointed out, equally as smug.
"… Uncool, man."
"I am the very definition of 'uncool'."
Heather snorted, "You're so full of your own shit."
"I am the greatest Dark Lord to ever live. I am full of nothing except greatness!" Voldemort snarled.
"You know, great people usually don't have to say that for it to be true…" Heather taunted.
"There is nothing wrong with confidence, Heather Potter. I am simply my own biggest fan. I wouldn't expect a child like you to understand," Voldemort said dismissively.
Heather looked at him queerly, "Your confidence manifests in weird ways, mate."
"Thank you."
"That… wasn't a compliment."
"And yet, I took it as such."
"What is even happening…?" Heather asked, mostly to herself.
She was almost starting to figure Voldemort out. One moment, he was menacing and threatening. The next, he was trading quips with her like a good sport. He was so full of himself and his own hype, so narcissistic and dramatic, that even her verbal counters were feeding his ego. All she had to do to buy herself time was get him talking about himself.
"Why am I here, Tom?" She asked leadingly. "Do you just want to gloat and talk about yourself?"
"Ah, Tom…" Voldemort sighed fondly. "It's been so long since someone called me by that name. I almost… miss it."
"Oh yeah?" Heather smirked. "Want me to call you Tom from now on?"
"It's a good name," Voldemort considered. "I could do without the last name but Tom by itself is plenty menacing. The Dark Lord… Tom…"
"If you say so…" Heather barely hid her disbelief. "So, Tom, why am I here? Just to watch?"
Voldemort - Tom - chuckled, "No, Heather. You shall be instrumental to my second rise. By your blood, I shall be reborn."
"And why here?" Heather quickly followed up before Voldemort could think of moving along with his ritual. "I mean, don't get me wrong. Graveyard. Spooky. Scary. But it's also a bit… I don't know… played out?"
"You think?" Voldemort asked, having grown entirely too comfortable with having Heather at his mercy. After an entire year with only Wormtail and Nagini for company, he was almost enjoying this conversation.
"Oh, yeah," Heather nodded. "So - what's that French word…? - So passe. Surely, you could have found somewhere better. A dark and creepy manor?"
"We have one of those up on the hill," Voldemort dismissed.
"A monument or something? You could have at least cleared out Stonehenge for the occasion," Heather suggested.
Voldemort hummed, "Hmm, that might have been fun…"
"That's what I'm saying!" Heather 'agreed', acting as if she was on his side. "But here? I was almost expecting a graveyard when I woke up!"
"Well, that won't do at all," Voldemort scoffed.
Heather nodded along, "Yep, never let 'em know your next move."
The corners of his lips twitched, "Quite… Still, this graveyard does hold some significance."
"Oh yeah? Tell me about it," Heather requested, openly playing into Voldemort's distraction now.
"U-Uh, Master…?" Wormtail tried to cut himself back into the conversation.
"Quiet, Wormtail! Can't you see we're talking here?" Voldemort snapped. "Now… where was I…?"
"You were explaining why this graveyard is important to you," Heather said 'helpfully'.
"Yes… It's quite simple, really. The grave you are tied to? It belongs to my father," Voldemort answered freely.
Heather gasped dramatically, "No!"
"Indeed," Voldemort nodded as if he didn't notice the sarcasm. "My wretched, loathsome Muggle father. His corpse lies buried beneath you. I shall make sure he is useful for once in his meaningless existence."
"And your mother? How did she hurt you?" Heather almost felt like a therapist.
Voldemort scoffed harshly, "My mother… She was even worse than my father. Barely even a squib, she was a waste of the little magic she had. She sunk so low that she had to trick a Muggle into loving her with potions."
"With them as my parents, it's a miracle that I have as much magic as I do. I must have always been destined for greatness. Though I suppose that goes to show that blood isn't everything…" Voldemort smirked.
"And how does that make you feel?" Heather asked. On the outside, she appeared somber and 'compassionate'. On the inside, Heather was laughing - practically cackling - like a madwoman.
Voldemort waved off the question, "Oh, I dealt with my trauma long ago. I hold no feelings toward my sperm donor and birth mother other than an intense, burning hatred. As it should be."
"M-Master…? S-Sir?" Wormtail tried to cut in again.
"What is it, Wormtail?" Voldemort demanded.
Wormtail stuttered, "I-I think she's t-trying to distract you…"
"Ah," Voldemort turned his attention back to Heather. "Is that true? Are you?"
"Yep," Heather answered unrepentantly.
Voldemort tutted, "What a shame… I was enjoying our little talk. Maybe I expected too much from you. We are fated to be equal rivals. What are equals without the ability to converse and understand each other?"
Heather grinned, "You would have done the same in my shoes, Tom."
Voldemort's lips quirked up with the barest hint of pride, entirely in his hypothetical actions, "Perhaps… No matter. We should move things along. I tire of this form. Wormtail. The ritual."
"O-Of course, My Lord."
Heather watched as Wormtail set the baby-bundled Voldemort down, conjuring a chair to prop him up in. She found herself staring uncomfortably at Voldemort in his beady little eyes. He had no choice but to stare back at her, unable to move or do much in this strange fetus-like form.
Heather hesitantly tried to break the awkward tension in the air between them, "So… You, uh… You come here often?"
"Unfortunately, yes. When I feel the need to brood or lord my lively living state over my father's grave," Voldemort allowed.
"… Cool…" Heather trailed off into silence.
Voldemort sighed, "Good help is so hard to find these days, isn't it?"
"I, uh, wouldn't know. My friends and family are plenty helpful. Between Atlas and Hermione, I have everything I need, really."
"Ah, yes, Atlas Black…" Voldemort nodded. "I've taken an interest in his rise this year. It's a shame I've only had newspapers to go off of. His mother was such a competent slave. I'm sure he'd be the same."
"Watch it," Heather growled. "He's mine."
"Ah? A sensitive spot, perhaps? I shall keep that in mind…"
Heather fumed but didn't respond. After a few more moments of silence, Wormtail made his reappearance. He pushed a giant metal cauldron, rolling it on its side. He was panting laboriously and looked to be one misstep from crushing himself with the thing. Eventually, he got it in place and pushed it back upright.
"It… is ready… Master," He panted.
"Then hurry," Voldemort commanded. "I wish to walk again."
"Y-Yes, Master."
Wormtail stumbled over to the chair he conjured just as the magic he used for it gave out. Voldemort's bundled body hit the ground with a thud. He didn't make a single sound on impact, just glaring at his servant.
"You will be punished for that indignity, Wormtail," Voldemort hissed.
Wormtail paled more than could have possibly been healthy, "A-Apologies, my Master…"
Wormtail scooped up the bundle of Voldemort. He was still catching his breath as he made his way back to the cauldron and gingerly set his lord inside.
Voldemort's voice echoed from the cauldron in a way that was almost comical, "You may start, Wormtail. Do not disappoint me again…"
Wormtail jumped slightly at the echo, as timid and skittish as ever. Heather thought it was only fitting for a rat like him. Still, he nervously fingered his wand and began the ritual.
"Bone of the father, unwillingly given, you will renew your son," Wormtail chanted, barely suppressing his stutter.
The ground beneath Heather rumbled and split. The grave of Tom Riddle Snr was unearthed and desecrated. Bone flew into the air to crumble to dust. The dust then went into the cauldron and the whole mixture began to bubble with Voldemort inside.
Right, this was it. Heather steeled herself inside. They knew Voldemort needed her blood for the ritual. It would be 'forcibly taken' from her. She just needed to not panic. In fact… if she was letting Wormtail take it, was it still 'forcibly taken'?
She knew everything else should have been in place. Heather just had to wait for the perfect moment. Unfortunately, they couldn't enact their own ritual while Voldemort was still in his helpless form. They needed him to summon his Death Eaters to power it. Which meant Heather was in for a fight once Voldemort got his body back.
Thankfully, she would have some backup for that. She could feel Atlas and Bella's magic through the token. Thrumming like an engine, ready to be revved, and close. They'd be there in seconds when she called. The wards should go up soon after.
The prophecy said Voldemort had to die at her hand. She just hoped Fate wouldn't mind if she had a little help. Or if she just straight up didn't kill him…
What had Atlas called it? Tartarus…? That seemed as good a final resting place for Voldemort as any.
Wormtail whimpered, "Flesh… of the servant… Willingly given… You will revive your master…"
He stood over the cauldron. A silver dagger raised into the air. Wormtail's eyes squeezed shut. He let his arm fall. Heather had to turn away as Wormtail mutilated his own hand, chopping it clean off to fall into the bubbling mixture. The piercing screech he let out still stabbed into her ears.
"Didn't think you had it in you, Wormtail," Heather quipped to hide her nausea. "You know, you probably could've done with just a finger or something, right? I mean, props for the commitment, I guess."
Wormtail's sobs intensified at her harsh and unwelcome logic. Still, he stumbled over to her. He reached out with his fresh stump and stopped. With another body-wracking sob, he switched hands, aiming for her arm.
Heather was restrained in a way that her arm wasn't easily accessible to Wormtail's newly crippled state. He paused again.
"D-Do you mind giving me your arm, Potter…?" Wormtail said in stuttering sobs.
"Oh, yeah, go for it," Heather shifted slightly.
Wormtail resumed the ritual's chant, "Blood of the enemy… Forcibly taken… You will resurrect your foe."
Heather braced herself but the sensations still shocked her. Sharpened silver split skin. A line of heat was drawn into her flesh. She gasped. Her wound burned deep. Her mind jumped, trying to shy away from the pain. Still, she kept consent in her mind out of pure spite.
Wormtail walked away with a vial of her blood. He never noticed that it was no longer 'forcibly taken'. He dumped the last ingredient into the mixture and stepped back.
Almost instantly, the cauldron erupted into a boil. Sparks of magic flew through the air, so blue they looked poisonous. Sickly green smoke spiraled out. It formed skulls and bones and sickles as if ill portents of the future. Death itself rebelled and was rewritten.
A silhouette pierced the smoke, standing erect from within the cauldron. Too tall and too thin, just the shape of the figure was unnatural. The magic in the air seemed to flee its presence. As the smoke cleared, skin wrapped too tightly around bone and the Dark Lord was reborn in the flesh.
"Robe me…" Voldemort rasped.
Despite his injuries, Wormtail hurried to obey. Heather watched, in fear, awe, and disgust all at once.
Voldemort was unnatural, an affront to the world. That's how he looked and that's how he felt. Heather's instincts - just about the first thing she trusted when it came to magic - screamed at her.
"Strike it down! Run away! Burn it! Hide!" Something primal screeched inside her mind, flipping back and forth as quickly as her heartbeat.
Once dressed, Voldemort turned his attention to Heather. He walked slowly, dramatically, toward her. Cold eyes bore into her soul.
The magic pouring off him felt so wrong. Nothing like when Dumbledore was angry. Nothing like Atlas as he always was.
Dumbledore was a force of nature, intense and dangerous if you got too close. He was a hurricane, almost uncaring of the havoc and chaos that he brought. But Heather knew she could stay safe by standing in the eye of the storm.
Atlas was a cold, windy night. Dark, chilling, but comforting in the most captivating way. Heather knew she could curl up with him and a cup of tea or cocoa and just enjoy the stars that peeked through his darkness.
Voldemort was wrong. He was a force of un-nature if that was even possible. He was the dregs that seeped through the cracks of reality and finally pooled into a twisted pool of pure, demented sewage. He was cruelty manifest. He was an anomaly. He only cared about himself, enough to even rebel against reality. Death, Fate, and Magic cried and cringed in his presence. Voldemort defied the natural order to stand before Heather.
"Ah," He put on an overly dramatic sigh. "It does feel good to have a body again. Good enough that I'm almost tempted to let you leave without doing anything more, Heather Potter…"
"Y-Yeah, that sounds like a great idea," Heather agreed, trying to suppress the involuntary quiver of revulsion in her voice.
Voldemort smirked, cruel and darkly amused, "Almost. Wormtail. My wand and your arm."
"Y-Yes, my Master," Wormtail obeyed. He stuttered and sobbed and asked, "M-May… I have a hand…?"
Heather couldn't help but snort at the unintended pun. It helped kill some of the unnatural anxiety she felt around Voldemort.
Voldemort rolled his eyes and hummed, "Hmm… Crucio."
Wormtail's screams were pretty effective at killing any humor Heather might have been relying on like a crutch. He fell to the ground, writhing and wriggling. He screamed and screamed and screamed. Every ounce of pain was wrung from his body like a rag. Voldemort watched emotionlessly as his servant just about tore his hair out with his good hand, trying to get the pain to stop.
Heather winced and mumbled, "Merlin…"
Still holding his torture curse, Voldemort turned back to Heather with another smirk, "How does it feel to witness true power, Heather Potter?"
"Like I shouldn't have even tried to talk to you. You're a psychopath," Heather replied.
"Oh? How kind of you."
"That wasn't a compliment!"
"Why ever not? Psychopaths are efficient. They're ambitious. They will do anything to make sure their goals are accomplished," Voldemort elaborated matter-of-factly.
"They're also anti-social detriments to society!" Heather yelled, struggling against her restraints. She couldn't believe she was trying to help Wormtail of all people.
Voldemort sneered, "Society bows to men like me."
Still, he released his curse. Wormtail went limp. His chest heaved. He couldn't even sob through the pain.
Contrary to popular belief, the Cruciatus Curse wasn't like being set on fire. It was pure pain, pulled from every single nerve in your body. It was like being dunked in ice-cold water, the shock jolting your whole body and stretching into infinity. It was agony, overwhelming in a way you could still fully process. It was torture and torment. It was pure, unimaginable suffering.
"You're a monster," Heather snarled.
"Oh? Are you volunteering to take his place?" Voldemort asked.
Heather clammed up real quickly. She hated how nonchalant and calm his voice was most of all. As if he'd just asked what was for dinner instead of asking if Heather would volunteer to suffer until she sobbed and screamed. Any understanding she might have built for Voldemort during their conversation before the ritual died a grisly, unceremonious death.
Voldemort nodded as if he'd made some kind of point, "Just as I thought…"
He turned back to his struggling servant, "Get up, Wormtail. Your dedication shall be rewarded. And then I will summon my other servants and we shall ask them why they were less loyal than a rat."
Wormtail barely managed to climb to his feet. He twitched with each movement. His body didn't respond as it should have. And yet, he was still too scared to disobey his master. He stood, clutching his severed stump and spasming with each gust of wind that grazed his skin like licking flames.
Voldemort waved his wand casually. Wormtail gasped and went stiff. Liquid silver metal poured from his stump. It flowed into shape, forming an exact replica of the hand he'd lost before solidifying. Cautiously, Wormtail flexed his hand, watching it move as it should.
"T-Thank you, M-Master…" He stuttered.
Voldemort didn't reply, instead just holding out his hand, "Your arm, Wormtail. Your mark."
He seized the offered arm as Wormtail complied. Voldemort jabbed his wand into the mark there, twisting it viciously as if he was truly stabbing into Wormtail's flesh. Wormtail tensed as if he were struck by lightning.
Nothing seemed to happen for a long moment. Then there was the pop of apparition. Then another. And another. The graveyard rapidly filled with dark figures, cloaked in black robes with gleaming silver masks over their faces. As one, they bowed when they appeared.
Voldemort didn't even wait for all of his Death Eaters to arrive before he began to speak, "I find myself disappointed. Vexed. Filled with rage and irritation. To have such… faithless… followers.
"The idea that any of you would truly believe I died that night is preposterous. You are my servants, my marked followers, my Death Eaters… And yet, none of you looked for me. Only two of your number worked to ensure my return.
"No, you were content to sit in your ivory towers. On one hand, I applaud your ability to adapt and reintegrate yourself with the sheep. On the other, I am… deeply offended.
"You were weak! You were unfaithful! You believed in Death more than in your Lord! You begged off punishment, thinking I would never return… Yet, here I stand before you… Reborn!
"MacNair… You couldn't put your fascination with rituals to good use? You didn't think to build me a new body yourself? Crucio…"
One of the Death Eaters fell to the torture curse. He writhed and screamed for a few moments until Voldemort released him and moved along.
"Avery… I've always thought you were a coward. How did you escape Azkaban, hmm? Imperius? Cooperation? Bribery? In the end, I do not care. Crucio…"
Another Death Eater fell. His screams tore through the graveyard. Voldemort went on like that, moving down the line of Death Eaters with their heads bowed. None dared to move. None dared to oppose their lord. They could only accept their punishment and beg for forgiveness.
In the background, Heather used Voldemort's distraction to her advantage. She wiggled against her restraints. Her injured arm burned as she moved. It slipped free.
She focused on her core, directing magic into her hand. She remembered Atlas' lessons and her own practice with Wandless Magic. Her mind calmed. Her breathing slowed. Her concentration sharpened.
She directed talent into intuition, intuition into will, and will into reality. Pure instinct, pure intent, Heather's magical core pulsed. The restraints loosened.
"The worst among you," Voldemort monologued. "Are the ones who did not even live to see my return. Yaxley… Parkinson… Flint… Malfoy… Their loss is unfortunate. Especially the Malfoy fortune and my path to the Black fortune as well. But they will not be missed.
"Take this as a lesson. Death and failure will result in you being forgotten. Your name will not be remembered. Your House will fall to the enemy. Your very way of life will die off. I am your only choice. Your only hope. I, who has conquered Death, shall lead you to eternity…"
More Death Eaters had stopped appearing some time ago and Voldemort was left wondering, "Hmm, we still seem to be missing some of my servants… Where is Severus, my most loyal spy? Where is Barty, the instigator of my triumphant return?"
Heather slipped a hand into her pocket. Her thumb ran over the token found there. It pulsed with her magic. Then it pulsed again as if in reply.
She let herself drop from the statue-like grave she'd been restrained to. The instant she hit the ground, she was already moving. Her muscles coiled and flexed. She pushed off from the ground. Like a whip, she sprang into action.
Faster than anyone could react, she bowled Wormtail over and swiped her wand off him. She rolled to her feet and put some distance between her and her enemies. One or two of the Death Eaters got spells off at her. A shield had already snapped into place behind her to tank them.
"Stop," Voldemort drawled, almost lazily. "It seems our guest of honor has escaped. Impressive. But no matter. I intended to duel you anyway. Have you anything to say for yourself before you die at my hand, Heather Potter?"
Heather turned and stood her ground, smirking at the Dark Lord, "Yeah. What beats a Dark Lord? Black magic…"
IIIII
It took every ounce of willpower I had to stay my hand for so long. Heather was less than 100 meters from us. And we had to stay hidden - out of sight and unable to help. She was being held captive by a Dark Lord who was using her blood to be reborn and we couldn't do anything about it yet.
Bella held me tight for support. I supported her in turn. The Dark Mark on her arm burned. Through gritted teeth, she bore the Voldemort's call.
I'd put more than a few hours of research into getting rid of the Mark. The moment it was possible, I'd be replacing it with a mark of my own. Bella had already chosen a design of broken chains. For the time being though, Bella thought it poetic that the Dark Mark's call would summon Voldemort's doom.
Together, we watched the broadcast on my WWO parchment. I was all set to leap in and strangle Heather when she took up a taunting conversation with Voldemort. We didn't need her to buy that much time!
The thread beneath the broadcast was going wild. Paradoxically, it helped me keep calm. It reminded me that Heather wasn't alone. We were here, waiting for her signal, and the entirety of Hogwarts was watching.
The reactions in the thread were expectedly extreme. I couldn't imagine how it felt to be an outside observer for this event. Even with knowing the plan and that this was all a coordinated trap, I was beyond tense. Thankfully, Daphne and Gabrielle had taken to managing our reveal on the WWO.
I could hear my heart beating in my ears. Righteous rage and protectiveness swelled and swelled. Worry was close behind. I was itching to spring the trap early. To get to Heather's side.
My stomach was in knots. My nerves were frayed. My throat was dry as bone. Just swallowing was a task in itself. My emotions ran riot through my mind. And still, I had to keep a tight lid on them so they didn't affect my magic and give the game away to Voldemort.
I was a dense, coiled ball of magic. My instincts rebelled against the necessary wait. I was oh-so ready to snap at Voldemort and bite into him like a whip.
My focus was sharp and I knew soon enough I would cut everyone who threatened Heather into tiny pieces. Any second, she would give the signal. Any second, I would be able to vent my tension in an intensely satisfying and productive fashion.
The token I held pulsed in my hand. I waited. Heather slipped free from her restraints. I waited. She grabbed her wand and readied herself. I waited.
"What beats a Dark Lord? Black magic…"
Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war.
With a crack and a twist, Bella answered the call she'd been resisting. My hand on her shoulder pulled me along with her. Our wands were out and ready.
We appeared next to Heather. Spells were flying before anyone but Voldemort could react. Even his reaction was a touch slow. He spun out of the way as I sent an explosive hex his way. All of my anger, all of my anxiety, was pumped into the spell.
The spell exploded on a Death Eater behind Voldemort. The masked figure was instantly reduced to nothing but bloody mist. Bella cut another almost in half with a slash of her wand. The only sound that escaped her target was a wet, choking gurgle.
"Ah, Atlas Black. And Bellatrix, my dear. I wasn't expecting company… Still, I suppose I can make an exception for such competence so long as you swear to serve me-…" Voldemort tried to monologue.
A Blasting Curse slammed into him. His speech was cut short. I was ashamed I let him say even that much.
Voldemort shielded against the spell in time. He was still sent flying ass over teakettle. His magic, twisted and corrupt as it was, caught him in mid-air and set him down gently.
"Such ruthlessness… Such power… Yes, how wonderful~… You shall make a good slave when I break you, Atlas Black…" Voldemort menaced, his smile morphing with malice and cruelty.
"As if, you noseless bastard!" Heather shouted, adding her own spell to my assault.
Her Cutting Curse sliced deep into Voldemort's shield. As if the shield was physically there, a sharp gash was opened in the magical aegis. The Dark Lord actually blinked in surprise at the damage.
His shield was slow to heal. Bella followed up with a Blood-Boiler that Voldemort was forced to sidestep.
Bella snarled like an animal, "Touch my baby boy and I will make your death slow and gruesome! I will string you up by your entrails! I will rip out your heart and shove it so far up your ass it settles back into place! I will slaughter you like a fucking pig!"
Voldemort sighed fondly, "Ah, Bellatrix~ How I've missed you. It's such a pity you're no longer mine to command…"
Only then did the Death Eaters begin to respond to our ambush. Some scrambled for cover. Others formed up on each other to mount coordinated counter-attacks. Others still raised their wands and charged in head first.
Heather quickly turned into a whirl of stunners. She was quick as a whip and as accurate as a marksman. She overpowered the Hell out of every spell. The charging Death Eaters were sent flying, their feet literally leaving the ground from the force of her stunners.
She only used one spell because that was all she needed. The only time she used something else was when she took Wormtail's head clean off his shoulders with a Blasting Curse.
Unlike Heather, I made sure to shake things up and keep our opponents guessing. My wand twirled and flicked. Magic flowed through me like a raging river. I found myself snarling just like Bella as I cast.
A pitfall opened up beneath one Death Eater. Dirt turned into boiling water around them. Another was crushed by the air itself as I turned up the pressure. A simple banisher sent a Death Eater into and through a gravestone.
Lightning flashed, streaking across the battlefield to illuminate skeletons within still-living bodies. Wind roared and ripped clothes and skin to pieces. Chunks of ice in June pelted the hiding Death Eaters like a literal hail of bullets. I whipped the world into a fury around the Death Eaters.
Bella's varied curses were even more vicious. One fell to their knees as their organs tore them apart from the inside in an attempt to escape. Moisture was ripped straight from another's flesh and bones. A Death Eater found himself getting very acquainted with his own crotch, paralyzed and brain dead in an instant as his spine disappeared and his body couldn't stay upright anymore.
Through it all, Voldemort stood back and laughed manically, "Yes~! Yes~! Cut loose! Let your magic fly! Prove my greatness with worthy challengers!"
One of the coordinated groups of Death Eaters tried to flank me. I took the initiative to prevent it. Within seconds, I was within their ranks. My wand might as well have been a sword with how liberally I used the Cutting Curse.
Pushing the limits of physical magic, none of them could keep up. My arm blurred with every slash. Limbs were removed wholesale. I chopped. I cut. I split flesh and spilled blood. And still, I did my best to keep them mostly alive.
The world was sharp with clarity. The night was brighter than it should have been. As if the darkness had retreated into my magical core.
I was so enraged that I went right the way back around to focus and calm. My heart wasn't racing anymore. It beat a steady rhythm in my chest.
Britain's Pure-Blood population would take a significant hit after tonight, I mused. I realized I was likely orphaning some of my students. There was nothing I could do about that realization. They were a threat to me, to society, and most importantly… They were threats to Heather.
I didn't know how many Death Eaters there were. 100? More? Surely, not more than 300. Let's put it at an even 225…
Regardless, there were now much less in any condition to continue fighting. Some were dead. Most were grievously injured.
Blood painted the grass red. The graves beneath were watered generously. Gore and viscera splattered against the gravestones like abstract art.
The portion of Death Eaters who charged in like idiots were taken care of quickly. Heather and Bella were working on their own little coordinated groups. Like I had, they carved through the groups like butter. Heather did so faster than Bella, to my surprise.
The Death Eaters in cover were mostly intact. They cast AKs like candy at the three of us. Thankfully, training in Constant Vigilance paid off. I hated that I would have to tell the old paranoid bastard Mad-Eye that he was right. Hell, I might even have to… thank him!
Still, it seemed Voldemort was starting to realize that the situation was quickly turning against him. He held himself dramatically, reviving some of his stunned followers with the wave of his wand. Then he walked back into the fray as if he had all the time in the world.
I took a moment to focus and center myself. With a sweeping motion, I moved to cut off the Death Eaters in cover. A long semi-circle wall rose from the dirt between us and them.
Voldemort paid it no mind. So I took the time to enchant my wall with traps, biting the thumb of my off-hand until I tasted blood from extra oomph and staying power.
Almost immediately, the traps paid off. A bloodcurdling scream sounded from the other side of the wall. I guess they found the air-breathing eels I embedded in my fortification. Moray Eels, at that. Those teeth were like glass shards and the second jaw within the first would be sure to traumatize anyone.
Still, Voldemort ignored the struggle of his followers. He wouldn't lift a finger to help his 'lessers'. Not when Heather, Bella, and I were in front of him.
He lifted his wand. The magic in the air stuttered and disappeared as if sucked in by a sudden black hole. Voldemort almost seemed to swell with power.
Muttering under his breath, the Dark Lord brought his wand down upon the world. A wave of sickly green light burst forth from him. It washed over the graveyard, sinking into the graves there. Reality screeched in protest.
The ground trembled. The grass split. Graves were unearthed. Dead hands clawed their way into the air. They pulled deathly pale bodies behind them. An abominable army rose from below.
"Shit…" I cursed to myself.
A cold hand reached for my foot. I severed it with a slash of my wand. The body it was once connected to didn't stop coming. Drawing in magic with a breath, I put my wand to my lips and blew, lighting the thing ablaze.
Voldemort's army of Inferni didn't discriminate between friend and foe. Heather, Bella, and I found ourselves fending them off just like the remaining Death Eaters on this side of the wall. Voldemort ignored the screams and cries of his followers.
The undead corpses feasted on living flesh. The Death Eaters were - ironically - eaten by the dead. The Dark Lord watched his servants fall like it was some kind of visceral play for his amusement. Sadistic glee shined in his dark, beady eyes.
"Cover me!" I called.
Heather, Bella, and I naturally backed toward each other, fighting along the way. Once together, I left the defense to them for a few precious moments. Sparks flashed in my magical core. A small, contained portion of my magic caught fire.
Realizing her stunners did nothing, Heather quickly switched to Blasting Curses and explosive hexes. Even as limbs exploded off the Inferni, they kept coming. They crawled, they limped, they even wiggled like some cruel parody of a snake when they were reduced to merely torsos and heads.
Back to back to back, I felt Bella's breath stutter in her chest. I could feel her concentration, feel the magic she wielded digging deep into reality to call forth something dangerous. Fiend Fire, barely enough for a torch, poured from the tip of her wand.
Her body was stiff, her muscles tensed as she fought to control even this minute example of the legendary flames. The sounds of Hell, demonic and ghastly, echoed from the Fiend Fire with every crackle and pop of the flickering flames.
It formed a cat's paw on the end of her wand. Wickedly sharp claws flickered in and out of existence. Bella swiped and swiped, carving through undead flesh like it was air. Blood and bone alike burned, consumed by Fiend Fire.
The tide of Inferni slowed but didn't stop. Some hung just out of Bella's reach. Even more reinforcements came from all around. Every grave in the graveyard had been overturned, their residents rudely evicted and drafted.
I stoked the fire in my magical core. It was contained and compressed into a tight ball. I began to spin the ball with my will. Faster. Tighter. Over my head, my wand followed the same path as my will.
With a strained roar, I let the fire fly free. It streamed from my wand, not unlike Fiend Fire. But my flames were much, much easier to control. I wouldn't dare try this spell with Fiend Fire.
Clouds of fire formed above our heads. They spun themselves outward into a great ring of fire. Crimson and gold descended upon the world. They reached down from the heavens to engulf everything around us.
Round and round, the flames whirled. A tornado. A hurricane. A firestorm. The air itself smoldered and smoked. Scorching heat consumed everything it could reach. Even as the caster, I felt my skin begin to tingle and burn.
Thankfully, Heather was quick to cast Flame Freezing Charms on all three of us. Bella fought her Fiend Fire back into submission. It winked out without fanfare.
Flames so thick they might as well have been solid surrounded us. They cloaked us from view. We took a second to catch our breath. I let my Firestorm Spell rage and rampage until I was sure the Inferni were nothing but ash. Once I let it go, the storm naturally began to disappear as it vented pressure.
Before it could fully disappear, a shadow appeared within them. The figure walked forward until Voldemort emerged from the flames. Drama Queen… I thought. Fuck if it didn't look wicked though…
Voldemort's grin was wide and manic, "Good! Good! You can deal with cannon fodder. Now, let's test how you fare against a single opponent. Witness me, Heather Potter, Atlas Black! Witness my glory! I am Lord Voldemort! Hahahahaha~!"
My firestorm faded during Voldemort's insane, narcissistic declaration. The rest of his Death Eaters lurked on the edges of it. They menaced and threatened, keeping me and Heather from devoting all of our attention to Voldemort alone.
Bella's hand fell lightly on my arm, "Don't worry about them, baby. Momma will take care of the chaff."
"Are you sure?" I worried. "There have to be more than 100 still left…"
Bella smirked at me, "As if I would ever disappoint my baby boy again."
She turned away and waved her wand. Sharp, quick, and without pause, her wand movements made her look like an orchestra conductor.
Cracks rang out through the graveyard. Stone rumbled and ground against stone. Angels came to life. A robed scythe-wielding figure like Death joined them. The statues scattered around the graves moved as one.
Bella directed them to do her will and bidding. Death Eaters panicked, scattered, or tried to fight back. Bella's golems shrugged off spellfire like it was water. Soon enough, Bella leaped back into the fray, an army of her own at her beck and call.
"She really is one of a kind…" Voldemort watched with impressed eyes.
I found myself absently agreeing, "Yep, that's Mommy Bella for you."
Bella's squeal could have been heard from Hogwarts, "Eeeeeiiiiiiii~! Atlas called me Mommy~!"
Laughter escaped my lips as I turned to Heather, "Heh… Ready?"
Heather grinned like a true combat junkie, "C'mon, Teach, let's give 'em what for!"
I snorted, "'What for'?"
Her face flushed, "Shut up…"
Despite our situation, I couldn't help but tease her, "Alright, Madam Potter~."
Heather glared but I could see the amusement behind her eyes, "I'll get you for that…"
"We have to get out of here first," I reminded, bringing her focus back to the elephant in the room.
Voldemort just watched us, smirking as if we weren't a threat to him at all. Heather's expression hardened. We both needed the slight break but I was right. There was more work to do.
Tense magical intent built up like pressure within Heather. She fingered her wand but didn't move otherwise. Her eyes were locked on Voldemort and his on her. Two aspects of Fate stared each other down, the string of Prophecy practically visible between them.
I bit my thumb again to renew the wound there, wincing slightly at the sting. A few drops of my blood dripped onto my wand. They instantly and unnaturally seeped into the wood. A temporary boost. But that was all I needed.
Fate deemed this a battle between Voldemort and Heather. It said she alone could defeat him. No one else could interfere. My System and I had other ideas. I'd already proven able to interfere, removing Voldemort's Horcrux from Heather and undoubtedly messing with the fated final confrontation between the two of them.
I didn't know why I seemed able to break Fate. And honestly, I didn't quite care at the moment. All that mattered was that I could. That I would. For my family, for any of my girls, for Heather, I was going to tell Fate to stuff it. Voldemort wouldn't know what hit him.
By some unseen signal, Heather suddenly sprang into motion, "Expelli-… !"
Voldemort mirrored her, "Avada Keda-… !"
I beat them both to the punch, interrupting their spells before they could finish casting, "Coel Disrumpo!"
The Heavens were rent asunder. Space split before my wand. The weave of reality ripped for the briefest of moments. The clap of noise that followed was a deafening cacophony as reality reasserted itself. The damage was already done.
Voldemort's limbs split and shattered, severed from his body. His arms fell from his sides. His legs flopped forward at the waist. There was no blood, no gore. Space itself had separated at his shoulders and waist, cleanly slicing through the matter there.
The Dark Lord was left as a Dark Nugget, just a torso and head. He fell to the ground, somehow balancing perfectly there on his new stumps. Everyone in the graveyard froze. Struggling minds tried and failed to process the effect of my spell.
The spell itself was something I was developing as part of my Charms and Transfiguration Masteries. It was a spatial spell, one most closely related to Apparition, funnily enough.
It played heavily on the weave - the fabric - of space and time. It wasn't complete, still only at the first step. But that first step was already devastatingly effective.
Wizards and Witches played with the fabric of reality often, bending it to their will. Apparition was the most obvious example. It folded reality, momentarily connecting two points in space so the caster could 'step' through.
Like the metaphor of an ant on a string from "A Wrinkle in Time". Or the classic metaphor used to explain wormholes of making a hole in a folded piece of paper and opening it back up.
Ripping the fabric of reality was more difficult but still possible. The boost from Blood Magic plus half of my remaining reserves of magical power was enough to power my spell.
Reality was anything but fragile. It could take a bit of ripping and folding, especially on the minuscule, minuscule scale of an individual Wizard on an individual planet. The universe was unfathomably massive. It also had a tendency to self-correct for things that didn't even count as rounding errors like Apparition or my spell.
Eventually, Voldemort recovered enough of his senses to release his sudden rage, " What have you done, boy?! I shall have your head! I shall have your soul! How dare you step between Prophecy and Fate!?! No, how is this even possible?!"
Heather gaped at her nemesis and then at me before breaking out into laughter, "Ahahahahahah~! Atlas, I could kiss you!"
I was panting slightly from exertion as I replied, "You're… welcome to. But we're not done yet. Lord Torso-mort here won't give us any more problems but we've still got the rest of the chaff to deal with."
Beaming as bright as I'd ever seen her smile, Heather turned to the rest of the Death Eaters with her wand raised and ready, "Alright, boys~ How about you all make this easy for us, yeah~?"
Her words seemed to shock the Death Eaters out of their shock. Some raised their wands. A few dropped them then and there and raised their hands into the air in surrender. I made a special note of them. The others tried to apparate out and immediately ran face-first into our wards.
Heather dropped several Death Eaters with stunners before they could react. They tried to fight back but were still in a daze from their master's thorough defeat. Then Bella hit them with her army of gravestone golems.
They fell quickly after that, either to stunners or to concussions from living stone. All the while, Voldemort ranted incoherently in the background. I let the girls take care of the Death Eaters, standing back to recover my reserves.
"-This isn't right! It isn't fair! There was a prophecy! How?! How?! How?! How?!" Voldemort's rambles became more and more petulant.
"I know about the prophecy," I said, unceremoniously dropping myself into a sitting position beside Voldemort. "Hell, I probably know more of it than you do."
"Impossible!" Voldemort denied the idea. "You should not have been able to interfere! Ah, I know! This must not be the end!"
"No, I'm pretty sure this is the end for you, Tom," I plainly stated. "As for interfering, I already had before any of this happened."
"What… do you mean…?" Voldemort asked with fear of all things shining through the Dark Lord's voice.
I hummed to myself in consideration for a moment, "Hmm… Did you know one of your Horcruxes was inside Heather's scar?"
"Wha-! You know?!" He hissed.
I nodded, "I know. Albus knows. Everyone knows, Tom. But don't worry. I've already removed and destroyed that Horcrux from Heather. That's how I originally interfered."
"I… see…" Voldemort muttered before recovering his rage. "No matter! I have more! You shall never kill me! Lord Voldemort is immortal! This is merely a temporary setback!"
"Nope," I said, popping the 'p'. "We've got a plan to deal with those too. This really is the end for you, Tom."
"N-No-…" He went silent, half in denial and half in realization.
"If it helps, I could tell you the whole prophecy. Not that it matters anymore… but I thought you might want to know before we take care of you once and for all," I didn't know if I was taunting him or comforting him at this point.
Voldemort tried to act like he didn't care. His torso moved as if he was trying to wave a hand he didn't have anymore. He scowled when that motion failed.
"Do as you will, boy."
"'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies… '"
"Yes, I heard that much. Get to the point!" Voldemort snapped, interrupting me.
I suppressed a smirk and continued, "'-And the Dark Lord will mark her as his equal, but she will have power the Dark Lord knows not… and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives… the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies… '"
"But that's-…" Voldemort sputtered. "'Mark her as his equal'…? 'Neither can live while the other survives'…? I could have just left the little brat alone!?"
"Yep, Fate and Prophecy are bullshit like that," I smirked.
Voldemort looked even more defeated than when he was rendered into a torso nugget, "I had everything. Fear. Awe. Power. Immortality. Victory was within my grasp…"
I wasn't above kicking him while he was down, "And you threw it all away for an incomplete prophecy from a drunk."
The Dark Torso was silent for a few long moments, "… What will you do with me?"
I slapped him on the stump of his shoulder for 'comfort', letting a dark grin spread across my face, "Well, I'm hoping what's left of the prophecy will make Heather effectively immortal. She won't die by your hand and you won't die from hers. So don't worry, Tom. We won't kill you."
A small light of hope bloomed in his eyes, "Is that so…? Yes, that seems prudent. We should all go our separate ways and leave it at that. Nobody has to lose here…"
I chuckled, "Oh, no, Tommy boy. We're not letting you off like that. You'll get your immortality. But you won't get to enjoy it. Not one bit. I've made dead sure of that."
"What do you mean-…?" Voldemort somehow managed to pale despite his abomination of a body.
As if floating on air, Heather skipped over to us and said in a singsong voice, "All done, Teach~! Bella's Angels are gathering the bodies up. We can start bleeding them whenever! Should we call the rest of the coven now?"
I stood and stretched, "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. They're probably watching anyway. Shouldn't take long."
"W-Wait! You must tell me what you plan to do with me!" Voldemort protested.
Heather considered it for a moment before smirking, "Hmmm… Nah."
"I will not sit here and take this!" Voldemort began to struggle, his task made more difficult by his current state. "I am not beaten! I can't be! I am immortal! I am all-powerful! I am Lord Voldemort!"
"Don't get any bright ideas, Tommy boy," I warned.
"You don't command me, boy," Voldemort sneered. "No one does! I shall escape! I shall recover! And I shall have my revenge!"
His struggles increased. His body - just the torso, neck, and head that was left of it - writhed like a worm. His twisted, unnatural magic swelled with panic. The world around us seemed to almost hiss and reject him entirely. He suddenly coughed up blood - Heather's 'willingly given' blood.
Still, I wasn't taking any more chances with him. All it took to bring the Dark Lord so low again was a foot against his back. And then, I simply… pushed.
"I-I-oof!" He tried for another dramatic declaration of intent and was immediately cut off.
The Dark Lord Voldemort fell flat on his face and was stuck like that. His body began to smoke ever-so-slightly. Heather's blood slowly seeped out of his every pore.
"Looks like we're on a time limit now," I absently mused, fingering the token in my pocket. It pulsed twice in reply.
"Oh shit…" Heather cringed. "Ewwww…"
Bella just giggled, "Hehehe~! Looks like the Dark Idiot will have to thank us. Our ritual should stabilize this corrupted body so he can be stuck in it forever."
Half a dozen or so pops sounded around us. The rest of the coven apparated directly to Heather, Bella, and I, using our tokens as points of reference. Aurora and Septima ferried the girls who didn't know how to apparate. Hermione - since I'd been teaching her - and Fleur came under their own power.
Luna beamed at me, bright as always despite our current situation. Daphne looked around in no small amount of shock, still shying away from Voldemort. Hermione hurried to Heather's side, checking the now-blushing Girl-Who-Lived over for any injuries she might have missed.
Septima approached me, mirroring Hermione in a much calmer fashion. Satisfied nothing was wrong, she sighed, "Good… Is everything ready?"
"It should be," I confirmed.
I waved my hand. Lines and circles shimmered into existence around the graveyard. A grand ritual design - scorched into the grass and earth - was revealed.
"Can you and Aurora check my work? I know we've already checked multiple times but just to be sure… And mostly to keep the rest of the girls busy. Bella and I have… dirty work… to do," I requested, wincing slightly at what came next.
Septima - my first love - nodded, looking at me with soft eyes, "Of course, Atlas. I'm proud of you."
She laid a lingering kiss on my lips. It brought me back into the moment, firming my resolve and reminding me what needed to be done for my family to be safe. She pulled away to do as I'd asked. I took a deep, fortifying breath.
"Bella, the sacrificial materials?" I simply asked.
Bella came up to lean her head on my shoulder in support, "My Angels have they all gathered up… Atlas baby… If you want, I can do this myself."
I shook my head firmly, "No, I need to do this as well. I won't dump all of that taint on you alone. This is something we'll share. You and I… We'll shoulder the Dark so the rest don't have to."
Bella shuddered against me, "O-Oh my… Oh my~!"
I put my arm around her and gave her a slight squeeze, "C'mon. Let's get this over with."
We turned to face what we had to do. Before we could begin, I remembered something.
"Luna!" I called behind me. "Sit on the Dark Torso for me, yeah?"
Luna barely hid her usually-hidden vindictive streak, "You got it, Bossman! I'm sure he'll love to hear about my theory for why Dark Lords are often insane idiots who are infected by Wrackspurts and plagued by Nargles~!"
I chuckled, shaking my head fondly. Luna plopped herself down on Voldemort's back as if he were a beanbag chair. She immediately began her 5-point lecture and essay on the nature of daft Dark Lords. As I walked away, I could have sworn I heard Voldemort sob with his face planted in the ground.
The pile of Death Eaters Bella's Angels were guarding wasn't a pretty sight. The only ones who were unharmed were the ones who surrendered. The rest were battered, bruised, already bleeding, stunned, or crippled.
And they were just the ones who managed to survive. Bella didn't bother picking up the dead ones, leaving them scattered around the graveyard as a warning to our sacrificial captives.
I focused inwardly for a moment. I could feel the ritual lingering on the edge of my magical awareness. I'd carved and scorched every line and design. It lay ready, just waiting to be powered.
Nothing to it, I started with the surrendered Death Eaters, "Right, here's how this will go. I don't care about your mask or identity. The DMLE can deal with that mess. But don't think that means I'll let you get away. You lost. That's it. Simple as. Don't make this more difficult than it has to be.
"All I need is your arm and a bit of your blood. This isn't some big trick or anything. I won't use it for anything but power. Hell, cooperating might even see you coming out of this better off.
"You'll be instrumental in banishing the 'Dark Lord', after all. I wouldn't count on that though… Regardless, I just need your blood. I'll take it by force if I have to. Won't make a lick of difference for this ritual."
The first Death Eater gave me their arm easily. I made a cut with my wand, right over the Dark Mark, and moved on. I didn't revel in the blood or sacrifice. I didn't let any of my emotions into the process. I was methodical and precise, making each incision and moving on to the next.
The instant blood was drawn, Black Blood Magic was engaged. The blood was sucked into the air, following invisible paths. It streamed away from us and to the ritual circle. There, the blood clung to the already-drawn lines and expanded to coat the entire circle, pulsing as if connected to a still-beating heart.
Bella worked from the other end of the captured Death Eaters, doing the exact same as me. We met in the middle and I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding in.
The air around the graveyard was electric with magical energy. The ritual no longer lurked at the edge of my mind. It was about the only thing I could focus on now. It bubbled as if ready to boil and erupt.
I held Bella's hand tightly in mine as we made our way back to the coven, leaving the Death Eaters guarded by living statues. The girls were gathered back around Voldemort and Luna. Thankfully, Luna's rambles eased some of the tension I felt from holding the ritual at the ready.
"-Terror? Fear? Blood purity? Bah! How silly! All Dark Lords do is give the rest of us villains a bad name.
"Then there's how every Dark Lord is so obsessed with immortality. Sounds rather boring, if you ask me. Wizards and Witches already routinely live for hundreds of years. I mean, everyone knows Barry Wee Willie Winkle. He'll be 760 years old this year! Not even Nicholas Flamel is that old! It seems to me only silly gits and idiots chase after immortality."
There was no mistaking it now. Voldemort was sobbing. Brought even lower than he already was by a teenage girl. To be fair to him though… it was Luna.
I waved a hand. Luna hopped off her torso-made-seat in surprise as I levitated Voldemort off the ground. His sobs were suddenly much more audible, to everyone's amusement. I directed him to the center of the ritual circle and the whole coven gathered around him.
I let out a breath, "For everyone watching at Hogwarts-…"
"People are watching…?!" Voldemort practically whimpered.
I continued right on over him, "I just want to make something clear. This isn't Human sacrifice. It's blood sacrifice. There's a difference. The Death Eaters… They'll all live. But they won't escape their rightful punishment again. House Black will make sure of that."
"So… how is this going to work?" Hermione asked, nervously wringing her hands.
"Just like this."
There was no chant. No fancy wand-waving. No sparks or explosions of magic. Just a soft blood-red glow that slowly overtook everything and a rush of wind that Couldn't Be.
Then several things happened at once. It was as if Voldemort's body suddenly became a black hole for a few very specific items. A snake was sucked in from somewhere nearby, hissing in surprise and shock. The moment it made contact with Voldemort, it fell to the ground, limp and dead.
A ring came next. Then a locket. A goblet. And finally, an intricate tiara. Voldemort's Horcruxes would have been called from the ends of the earth if that's where they were hiding.
Piece by piece, Voldemort's soul was forced back together. Yet he didn't become whole. His soul was just all in the same place for the first time in decades, held frozen for the moment by the ritual.
"Now, for the final binding… This might not be the time or place. But I figured I would make this moment count and do something special… Septima, how do you feel about handfasting the coven?" I asked slowly, almost cautiously.
Septima looked at me with widened eyes, her mouth opening and closing like a fish. Heather cocked her head, not quite getting it. Fleur and Gabrielle swooned - Fleur more so, of course. Hermione looked lost in thought and introspection. Daphne nodded as if she'd been expecting my proposal.
Luna cheered and clapped, "Yay~! Handfasting~!"
"Uh… what's handfasting?" Heather asked.
Aurora smirked, "Think of it as an unofficial wedding."
Hermione glared at me, "My parents will kill you if you marry their daughter like this. Here? Now? Without even asking my father's permission?! Atlas Black, we will do this properly. And there will be an official wedding as well."
"With cake~! And sprinkles~!" Luna added helpfully.
I gaped at them for a second before bursting into laughter, "Haha~! No, no, you're mistaken. This isn't me proposing. At least, not like that.
"'To handfast' can mean a lot of different things in many different cultures but the verb directly means 'to formally promise, to make a contract'. That's what this is. It's a pledge, a binding, between all of us. A way of saying I'll never abandon this family and coven.
"The fact that it will anchor the sealing effect of the ritual is just a bonus."
"Oh… I see…" Hermione blushed. "You… will still propose though, won't you…?"
I nodded, promising, "When we're ready. And I'll be sure to 'do it properly'. Your father can give me the 'shovel/shotgun' speech just like Fleur's did."
"How romantic…" Daphne said flatly with the barest twitch of her lips.
"This handfasting has special meaning to Septima though," Aurora elaborated. "It's a coven handfasting. If there was ever a definite time a new House was formed, it would be then - now, I suppose."
I took Septima's hands into mine, "What do you say, love? Want to make this pledge? Want to make House Septima a reality?"
That broke her out of her daze and her eyes shined bright as stars in the sky alongside her smile, "Yes, yes, a million times yes! Though… I think House White is more appropriate."
I couldn't help but return her smile, "It's your House, your dream. You can call it anything you want, love."
Turning to the rest of the coven, I asked, "Any other objections?"
The answer was a resounding 'no'. Only Hermione raised a concern, "Wait! How do we do this? Is there a ceremony? Shouldn't we rehearse? Oh, Merlin, don't we need rings or something?!"
"It will be quite simple, Hermione dear. Just follow our lead," Aurora reassured.
"Right," I nodded. "Hands, everyone? I'll start."
The coven joined hands in a circle and I said my pledge, starting the handfasting process, "My girls, my coven, my family. I promise to shield you and shoulder all of your burdens as if they were my own until the end."
"This coven has been my dream for as long as I can remember. I won't let it go now that it's in my grasp," Septima pledged.
As she did, magic responded to our handfasting. Ghostly silver chains encircled our joined hands. They sparkled. They shined. They bound us together.
Aurora smirked, her pledge unorthodox, "I suppose I'm here for a good time and a long time, huh?"
The chains extended, connecting Septima to Aurora. They would continue to do the same around the rest of the circle until they reached Hermione and connected to me again.
"I promise to keep this coven forever free of Wrackspurts~!" Luna pledged cheerfully.
"Anything for my baby boy~ Anything for my daughters-in-law~" Bella pledged.
"All of you get to help keep Astoria in check too now…" Daphne deadpanned.
Gabrielle sported a mischievous smirk during her pledge, "To conquering the world and driving Fleur crazy with my sisters and Mon Ange."
Fleur ignored her sister, pledging theatrically, "I cannot imagine finer Witches to help keep this devilish villain in check with me!"
Heather had tears in her eyes and a wide smile on her face, "You guys… I don't know much about family. So I'll make this the family I never got the chance to have."
Finally, Hermione finished the ceremony, rolling her eyes, "Oh, yeah, make me end it off, why don't you? How am I supposed to follow up after Heather's? Oh, fine. I promise to provide the coven with the common sense Wizards so often lack."
The silver chains solidified for a brief moment before dissolving into motes of magic. The handfasting set in. I brought forth the ritual in my mind at the same time. As the handfasting chains disappeared, the concept of binding was imbued into the ritual.
As if sewn together by a thread, Voldemort's broken soul became a patchwork quilt. He still wasn't whole. He never would be. But the fragments of his soul wouldn't be allowed to roam free either.
The final piece settled into place. The ritual was complete. Blood flowed along the circles, pooling in the center around Voldemort's body. The blood began to smoke and burn away.
"Bye-bye, Tom~!" Luna chimed.
"See ya never~!" Heather added.
"Nooooooooooo-!" Voldemort's final screech of defeat was interrupted by the ritual's completion.
The last of the blood burned away. There was a slow tearing sound as the ground beneath the ritual circle opened up. Voldemort was dragged into the tear. It zipped back shut like it was never there. It was done. Voldemort was exiled - banished - to 'Tartarus'…
All of us let out sighs of relief. None more so than Heather. It was as if the weight of the world was taken off her shoulders. She began to laugh.
"Hahahahahah~! Yesssssss~! Maybe now I can have a normal year for once!"
Hermione whipped out her WWO parchment as Heather had her moment of catharsis. She scribbled something frantically. I peeked over her shoulder to see what she was doing.
"Operation R.E.V.O.L.U.T.I.O.N…?"
"Recently Employed Volunteers Overthrowing Largely Underperforming Tyrants to Implement an Orderly Nation," Hermione explained without looking up from her parchment for a single moment.
"Hermione, no…" I had a feeling this was coming but right now?
She looked me dead in the eye, serious as Fudge's funeral bell, "The revolution will - in fact - be televised."
IIIII
AN: This chapter took a bit longer to write but it's equally longer for that wait. 11.5k words… But it's done! Voldemort's been banished, Heather's been 'helped', and the revolution has started.
There are two more chapters after this. Call them a long epilogue. They'll contain one last WWO section, reactions, and the revolution. Then a vacation for the coven, and many smut scenes.
After that, the Grind is officially over for me (for now). I'm sure I'll return to this story at some point. I just want to thank all of the readers for sticking with/supporting this story for so long. It's been my biggest project to date and I can't thank y'all enough.
As for the future, I feel the need to let you all know what I plan on doing next. I'll be starting a snippet thread on QQ (and maybe Webnovel. I haven't decided yet). So I'll be focusing on shorter, more contained stories/one-shots/smut as well as the starts of various stories (snippets, for the uninitiated).
I'd actually like to hear my Webnovel readers' opinions on that format. I haven't seen many snippet 'threads' on Webnovel. Usually, the stories there are solely dedicated to one idea/story. If it's something that sounds interesting, let me know.
While I'm doing all of that, I'll be shopping around for an original story idea. I'm pretty sure my next major project will be original so that's why. But it will probably be a while until then. Let me know if there's anything you'd like to see me write. I can't promise anything concrete but I'm always open to ideas.
Update: I've found an original idea I quite like. But I won't be focusing on it for a while. I want its development to be 'slow-roasted' lol. So while it's planned and all that, I'm going to be doing other projects.
40: Man-Who-Helped
Stats 1 to Body, 2 to Mind, 4 to Soul
Body 681=69/100 (Nice…), Mind 712=73/100, Soul 714=75/100
Combat
6 to Dueling
Dueling 596=65/100
Magic
2 to Wanded Magic, 2 to Magic Theory, 2 to Black Blood Magic, 3 to DADA, 3 to Dark Arts
Wanded Magic 672=69/100, Magic Theory 722=74/100, Black Blood Magic 482=50/100, DADA 673=70/100, Dark Arts 623=65/100
Social
20 to Notoriety, 20 to Influence
Notoriety 4320=63/100, Influence 4020=60/100
Creation
2 to Wards, 6 to Ritual Magic
Wards 522=54/100, Ritual Magic 606=66/100
New Title Unlocked: Man-Who-Helped
Quest Completed: The Triwizard Tournament
Condition(s): Keep Heather Potter alive through the Triwizard Tournament. Quest bonuses will be given for exceptional performance by Heather Potter during the three (3) tasks. Also, deal with Lord Voldemort once and for all…
Rewards: One (1) Perk, One (1) Title, 5 to EVERYTHING, Potter Family Magic Unlocked
5 to EVERYTHING
New Title Unlocked: Breaker of Fate
New Perk Unlocked: Prophecy Smoh-phrecy
Prophecy? I barely know her! You and those you love are unbound by tragic fates and prophecies
New Discipline Unlocked: Potter's Clay 15=6/100
I pushed the System notification to the side. Sure, completing the quest felt good, but I hadn't done all of this just for that. The additional rewards were certainly welcome though.
As far as I could tell by just feeling out the Discipline, Potter's Clay was a kind of specialized Transfiguration. One potent enough that it made the already reality-bending art of Transfiguration into something that could only be considered bullshit. I made a note to get Heather into her family's library ASAP.
And the new Title and Perk? Also bullshit. Very welcome bullshit. Especially since the Perk specified 'tragic fates and prophecies'. The coven and I weren't immune to Fate's boons, just her curses.
For once though, I felt the Grind could wait. Voldemort was dead. Heather was free. And the coven had strengthened its bonds. So I could turn my attention to whatever the Hell Hermione was plotting.
"Recently Employed Volunteers?" I asked, half amused and half incredulous.
Hermione raised her nose imperiously, "House Black and the White Coven may or may not be funding and hiring revolutionaries… Narcissa has been very helpful."
"I see."
"We're now the largest part-time employer in Magical Britain."
"…"
"You're not going to say anything?" Hermione asked nervously.
I answered her question with a question, "Does your plan require me to actually do something?"
She shook her head slowly, "No, I guess it doesn't. All you have to do is stand in the background, all pretty and leader-like."
"And you're not planning to genocide the Ministry, right?"
"Atlas!" Hermione gasped, scandalized. "How could you think me capable of that?"
I chuckled, "Just checking thoroughly."
She sniffed, "Well, no. I'm not planning a genocide."
"I see no reason to try and stop you then. Hell, I'll even support you."
"You will…?"
"I told you he would, Hermione~" Luna cut in.
"And I didn't want to assume anything," Hermione primly retorted.
"Heh, it really takes 'youthful rebellion' to a whole other level, doesn't it?" Aurora joked.
"Damn," Heather swore lightly. "That's a good one. Why didn't I think of it first?"
"It's okay, Potter," Daphne deadpanned. "We still love you even if you're a little slow."
"I'll show you slow," Heather growled.
"Here, Mon Ange. You'll need this to complete the image as well," Gabrielle said, shoving clothes into my hands.
"My 'supervillain' outfit?"
"Mhmmm~!" Luna hummed, nodding cheerfully. "You're The Black Rider!"
Smirking, I shrugged on the pitch-black cloak and settled the hat onto my head, "Seems as good a name as any. How do I look?"
Fleur shuddered as she checked me out, "H-How dastardly… How dashing… Yes, there is no denying your villainous nature now, D-Devil~!"
Gabrielle giggled at her sister, "You will not find a more shining endorsement than that."
"Yay~! The Black Rider rides again~!" Luna clapped and cheered.
"He could certainly take me for a ride~" Aurora leered.
"Dammit!" Heather huffed. "Two-nil…"
"You're losing your touch, Potter," Daphne said.
"Yeah?! Well-… ! I'll touch you!" Heather snapped, barely making any sense before devolving into giggles.
"Cut her some slack, Daphne. She's had a long day," I teased.
"Yeah! Long and hard! Like Atlas' cock!" Heather grinned unrepentantly.
I sighed, "She's trying."
"And failing," Daphne added.
Heather scowled, "I'll get another good one eventually."
"So," I changed the subject. "Has anyone contacted Amelia yet?"
Septima shook her head, "No, but that's a good reminder. I'll get her here immediately."
"Why?" Hermione asked.
"I just think it could be useful to have her and her department be busy with the Death Eaters when you storm the Ministry," I stated innocently.
"Ah… That does seem like a good idea," Hermione blushed slightly at missing the obvious.
"Storming the Ministry is actually step three of Hermione's 5-step Guide to Overthrowing Magical Societies," Luna chimed.
"What's step one?" I inquired with amusement in my voice.
"Luna!" Hermione hissed, blushing even more now.
Luna ignored her, "Find a champion. For our purposes, you and Heather qualify."
"Step two?"
"Defeat the reigning Dark Lord."
I nodded, "And step three is storming the Ministry. What comes after that?"
"???" Luna 'answered'.
I blinked, "I'm… sorry?"
"Step 4: ???" Luna repeated herself.
"… Ah. Of course," Eventually, I just nodded and tried not to think about how Luna made the sound of three question marks and nothing else. "And step five?"
"Profit."
"Seems simple enough."
Hermione groaned, "Oh, how embarrassing. Next, you're going to tell him about my manifesto."
I stifled a snort in a vain attempt to save Hermione's pride. Vain because she realized what she'd said right after saying it. She buried her red face in her hands.
Thankfully, she was saved from revealing even more of how much thought she'd put into revolutions by the appearance of Tonks and Amelia. An entire squad of Aurors came with them, including Mad-Eye. Ignoring the audience, Tonks immediately came up and hit me before wrapping me in a tight hug.
"You crazy bastard…" She muttered into my shoulder. "You actually did it."
Amelia cleared her throat. Tonks jumped back from me, remembering that she was supposed to be on duty, "J-Just checking him over for injuries, Boss!"
Chuckling, I turned my attention to Amelia and gestured to the Death Eaters, "They're all yours, Madam Bones."
She turned her monocle on our Death Eater prisoners, "Sweet Merlin… We'll be here all night. I'm going to need more men."
"I think I can call in a few favors for a bust like this," Moody grumbled.
Amelia nodded, "Do it, Mad-Eye. We need a place to hold them as well. Preferably someplace anonymous and not in the Ministry."
"How about one of House Black's properties?" Hermione suggested.
"You'd allow that?" Amelia asked, addressing me.
I nodded but Hermione spoke for me, "Anything to keep you out of the Ministry for the near future-… I mean… Anything we can do to help."
Amelia's eyes narrowed at Hermione, "And why would we need to stay out of the Ministry-…"
Moody interrupted her, laying a hand on the DMLE Head's shoulder. He met her gaze, shaking his head with a knowing grin on his face. Some sort of nonverbal conversation passed between the two. Hermione tried her very best to look completely innocent.
"Right," Amelia eventually said. "It seems the DMLE will be too busy here to go anywhere near the Ministry. What a shame…"
Hermione let out a sigh of relief, not picking up on Amelia's act. Amelia raised a questioning eyebrow at me. I just grinned.
"And what will you all do?" Tonks asked.
"Back to Hogwarts, I suppose. We should check in. Then… I think the coven could use a vacation," I answered.
"Wooo~! Roadtrip~!" Heather cheered.
"Silly Heather," Luna giggled. "Portkeys don't use roads."
"What about the revo-!" Hermione began to ask before cutting herself off with a glance at Amelia.
Amelia rolled her eyes and I laughed, "Let's leave Britain to its chaos for the summer. We can deal with the aftermath of defeating Voldemort and arresting a quarter of the Wizengamot after a much-needed break."
"I suppose a vacation does sound nice…" Hermione mused. "I could certainly use one after coordinating cooperation between three schools."
"Exactly. Besides, Heather and I are champions in name and deed only. I'm sure neither of us wants to bear the actual responsibility. I'd much rather rest and relax on a beach with the family," I added.
"The Black family owns a private, warded, and unplottable island in the Caribbean," Bella butted in helpfully.
"Private island?" Hermione perked up.
"Private island!" Heather confirmed excitedly.
"Sun~! Sand~! The Sea~! Tres Magnifique~!" Fleur added her usual dramatics.
"Yes. Let's leave Britain to its dreary upheaval. We've already established Cedric Diggory as a suitable candidate to take Atlas' place," Daphne advocated in a flat tone.
"Will Cedric agree though?" Hermione asked.
Daphne answered, "Doesn't really matter if he does. He's too popular for his own good. People love him. They'll just draft him anyway if he doesn't agree."
"His father is popular in the Ministry as well," Septima commented. "No one will complain about giving Amos' son a chance. Especially not after he embarrassed Fudge so handily during the Third Task."
"Add in Atlas and Heather's support of him as a candidate and the choice gets even more black and white," Daphne said.
"No election?" I asked, curious and amused.
Hermione dismissed the idea with a wave of her hand, "No need. The people are deciding and implementing their will directly. Much less chance of corruption or things not going our way."
I wrapped up our little planning/clarification session, "Well, I suppose that's that then. Good hustle, people. Cedric will be our sacrificial lamb for the chaos. I'll be sure to leave him a way to contact us and complain. Then after the initial wave of change calms down, he and Cho can join us on vacation. Merlin knows they'll need it."
Heather was practically vibrating in place, "C'mon~! The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can get to the beach~!"
"Good luck, Amelia. Tonks. Mad-Eye," I smirked as we prepared to leave. "I'm sure you'll find your job much easier to do without interference shortly."
Turning my smirk on Heather, I asked, "Ready to greet our fans?"
Heather's grin was vicious and fox-like, already preparing pranks to prevent the reaction we both knew was coming, "Oh, yeah~ Let's see them try and push me around now~…"
Amelia stayed silent and watched, taking in everything we were and weren't saying. Moody kept giving her that same knowing grin on his grisly mug. Tonks looked torn between doing her job and begging to come with us.
"I think I'll need to have a talk with Susan about keeping me informed of upcoming political revolutionary movements after all of this is over," Amelia muttered to herself as Heather summoned the cup portkey back to her and we all grabbed each other to be whisked away in a swirl of magic.
IIIII
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Topic: The End…
In: Boards Watch Me…
IceQueen (Original Poster) (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Posted On Jun 24th 1995:
Fire… Brimstone… Death and Fate… The end is nigh…
(Showing page 1 of 15)
PettyPansy (Slytherin) (Not Not Neutral)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Well, this is dramatic. Very 'goth' though so I suppose it's in character.
TracingDavis (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
You okay, Daph?
IceQueen (Original Poster) (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Rolls eyes* I'm fine. Just… be sure to watch the chaos…
IcePrincess (Slytherin) (Princess)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Dapphhhh~nneeee~ Not fair~! I'm supposed to be the one who brings chaos in our family~!
SherlockBones (Hufflepuff)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
What's going on?
HeirLongbottom (Gryffindor)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Why did Heather get portkeyed to a graveyard?
TheYoungestRedhead (Gryffindor) (Weasley)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
I have a bad feeling about this…
HenchwomanVtuber (Ravenclaw) (LoveGooder) (Coven Member #2) (Shh, It's a Secret)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
You should~! But not for Heather.
TerribleTwins1 (Gryffindor) (Prankster) (Beater)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Who-…?
End of Page. 1, 2, 3… 13, 14, 15
(Showing page 2 of 15)
TerribleTwinsA (Gryffindor) (Prankster) (Beater)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Isn't that Peter Pettigrew?!
TheYoungestRedhead (Gryffindor) (Weasley)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Not even the twins know what's going on?! Oh shit… This isn't a prank…
SherlockBones (Hufflepuff)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
We have to help Heather!
Heather'sMinder (Gryffindor) (Brilliant But Scary)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Don't worry. There's a plan.
BlackWidow'sSon (Slytherin) (Seduction Runs in His Blood)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Coming from a Gryffindor? That doesn't make me feel much better. From Granger? Let's see what happens.
IceQueen (Original Poster) (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
I helped as well.
ChangSenpai (Seeker) (Ravenclaw)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Why does Pettigrew have a baby?
FabulouslyLavender (Fabulous) (Gryffindor) (Queen Bee)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
That's one ugly-looking baby.
Mummy'sLittleDragon (Slytherin) (Pure-Blood)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
That's not a baby…
TheYoungestRedhead (Gryffindor) (Weasley)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Do you still have a plan for this, Hermione?!
End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4… 13, 14, 15
(Showing page 3 of 15)
Heather'sMinder (Gryffindor) (Brilliant But Scary)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Yes. Trust me. Everything is under control. Heather will be fine.
NottaProblem (Slytherin) (Pure-Blood) (Dark)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
The Dark Lord has returned!
IceQueen (Original Poster) (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Don't sound too excited there, Nott.
Shiva'sBride (Gryffindor) (Indian Goddess) (Love)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
What'd Nott say? I still have him blocked.
BlackWidow'sSon (Slytherin) (Seduction Runs in His Blood)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Just the usual Dark nonsense about how he's oh-so desperate to suck off the Dark Lord.
NottaProblem (Slytherin) (Pure-Blood) (Dark)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Wha-?! I said nothing of the sort!
FabulouslyLavender (Fabulous) (Gryffindor) (Queen Bee)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Pfft~! It was definitely implied though.
LovelyFrenchBrat (Guest) (Brat (Affectionate)) (French) (Coven Member #3)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Witches and Wizards…
The White Coven would like to present something spectacular. Here, you will witness history as it is written. Welcome, to the final fall of Lord Voldemort.
NottaProblem (Slytherin) (Pure-Blood) (Dark)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Lies! The Dark Lord cannot be beaten by some Half-Blood twit!
IceQueen (Original Poster) (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…"
"-And the Dark Lord will mark her as his equal but she will have power the Dark Lord knows not."
End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5… 13, 14, 15
(Showing page 4 of 15)
ChangSenpai (Seeker) (Ravenclaw)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
There's… a prophecy…?
LovelyFrenchBrat (Guest) (Brat (Affectionate)) (French) (Coven Member #3)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Oui. And Heather Potter has the White Coven at her back. Will Hogwarts join us?
AdrianPukey (Slytherin) (Dark)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
As if anyone could stand up to the Dark Lord. You're just digging your own graves.
HeirLongbottom (Gryffindor)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
I'll stand with Heather.
Heather'sMinder (Gryffindor) (Brilliant But Scary)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Heather would have done the same for you in a heartbeat, Neville.
IceQueen (Original Poster) (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Funnily enough, the prophecy could have applied to Longbottom as well.
"-Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…"
NottaProblem (Slytherin) (Pure-Blood) (Dark)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Scoff* The Squib?
SherlockBones (Hufflepuff)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
The heir to one of Britain's oldest Pure-Blood Houses. The Longbottoms were leading British tribes and clans long before the Romans arrived. Care to take a guess what House Nott was doing at that time?
TheYoungestRedhead (Gryffindor) (Weasley)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
He's also not a squib. Like, at all. Anyone with eyes can see how much power he has. Especially since he started working with Atlas
NottaProblem (Slytherin) (Pure-Blood) (Dark)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
What does it matter?! He will die before the Immortal Dark Lord for ignoring his Pure-Blood roots! Just as Potter will!
End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6… 13, 14, 15
(Showing page 5 of 15)
BlackWidow'sSon (Slytherin) (Seduction Runs in His Blood)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
The same Potter who's currently mocking the Dark Lord?
Heather'sMinder (Gryffindor) (Brilliant But Scary)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Dammit, Heather…
TerribleTwins1 (Gryffindor) (Prankster) (Beater)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
She's not the sharpest tool in the shed…
TerribleTwinsA (Gryffindor) (Prankster) (Beater)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
But she's sure as hell got spirit!
HellsBells (Gryffindor) (Chaser)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
I guess no one can say Heather entered the tournament on purpose now… Not that many believed that anymore anyway.
SoftPads (Ravenclaw) (Quiet Twin)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
How can she keep talking back to the Dark Lord like that…? I would have wet myself.
Shiva'sBride (Gryffindor) (Indian Goddess) (Love)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
You're not alone there, Pads. Even for a Gryffindor, Heather's got balls of steel.
NottaProblem (Slytherin) (Pure-Blood) (Dark)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
More like the courage of a fool…
IceQueen (Original Poster) (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
That too. But she's got Hermione and Atlas to do the thinking and planning for her. So all she has to do is be her usual Gryffindor self.
TracingDavis (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Where is Professor Atlas, Daph? He wasn't here before the task either. Doesn't seem like him to miss something like this…
End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7… 13, 14, 15
(Showing page 6 of 15)
IceQueen (Original Poster) (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
You'll see…
ChangSenpai (Seeker) (Ravenclaw)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Scary… Is it even possible to conquer Fate?
NottaProblem (Slytherin) (Pure-Blood) (Dark)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
The Dark Lord can do anything. Resistance is futile. Give in and accept your Pure-Blood masters already, sheep.
TheYoungestRedhead (Gryffindor) (Weasley)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Fate sounds like a bitch.
HeirLongbottom (Gryffindor)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
She kind of is.
IcePrincess (Slytherin) (Princess)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Woooo~! Nice comeback, Heather~!
PettyPansy (Slytherin) (Not Not Neutral)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Did… the Dark Lord just quip back at Potter…?
DrunkIrishman (Gryffindor) (Irish)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Uncool, man.
BlackWidow'sSon (Slytherin) (Seduction Runs in His Blood)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
You know, I wasn't expecting the Dark Lord to have a sense of humor.
TracingDavis (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
He seems almost… Human?
End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8… 13, 14, 15
(Showing page 7 of 15)
IceQueen (Original Poster) (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
He's not. Not anymore. But this just shows even Dark Lords can have layers.
SherlockBones (Hufflepuff)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
That's a good question, Heather.
'What is even happening' at this point?
ChangSenpai (Seeker) (Ravenclaw)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Tom?
IcePrincess (Slytherin) (Princess)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Gasp!* Dark Lord Tom! The horror! The terror! The fear-or!
TheYoungestRedhead (Gryffindor) (Weasley)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
I still hate that name.
IceQueen (Original Poster) (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Tom Riddle Jnr. Half-Blood son of a Squib mother and Muggle father. Hogwarts Head Boy of 1945.
PettyPansy (Slytherin) (Not Not Neutral)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Holy shit.
NottaProblem (Slytherin) (Pure-Blood) (Dark)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Lies! That's impossible!
IceQueen (Original Poster) (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Shrug* He's confirming it himself right now.
ChangSenpai (Seeker) (Ravenclaw)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
This conversation is surreal.
End of Page. 1, 2, 3… 5, 6, 7, 8, 9… 13, 14, 15
(Showing page 8 of 15)
TheYoungestRedhead (Gryffindor) (Weasley)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
She's not wrong though. A graveyard is kind of cliche.
AdrianPukey (Slytherin) (Dark)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
I'm sure the Dark Lord has his reasons.
IcePrincess (Slytherin) (Princess)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Giggle* Heather is still playing him like a fiddle.
BlackWidow'sSon (Slytherin) (Seduction Runs in His Blood)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Maybe Potter's more Slytherin than we give her credit for. Astoria's right. She's manipulating him masterfully. Right into admitting-…
PettyPansy (Slytherin) (Not Not Neutral)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
LovelyFrenchBrat (Guest) (Brat (Affectionate)) (French) (Coven Member #3)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
There you have it. The Dark Lord who champions blood purity has a Muggle father. Tom Riddle is nothing but a false shepherd.
AdrianPukey (Slytherin) (Dark)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
It's… true…?
Mummy'sLittleDragon (Slytherin) (Pure-Blood)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
He's tricked the entire Wizarding World. Called it.
PettyPansy (Slytherin) (Not Not Neutral)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Oh, bullshit. No way you had any clue what was going on, Draco.
Mummy'sLittleDragon (Slytherin) (Pure-Blood)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Not exactly. But it makes way too much sense in hindsight. Think about it.
Voldemort isn't exactly a noble or Pure-Blood name. I've never heard of a 'House Voldemort', not in England or in France.
And this isn't something I like talking about but you have to consider my father as well. Malfoy isn't the oldest or most prestigious Pure-Blood name in Britain. Sure, we have roots in France, but my line is basically a branch family.
So for my father to be Voldemort's right-hand man? Over Rosier? Over Carrow? Over Parkinson, even? Doesn't quite make sense, does it?
But what we did have was money. So obviously, Voldemort doesn't actually care about blood purity. He cares about what he can take from you. He cares about power.
End of Page. 1, 2, 3… 6, 7, 8, 9, 10… 13, 14, 15
(Showing page 9 of 15)
ChangSenpai (Seeker) (Ravenclaw)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
"Though I suppose that goes to show that blood isn't everything…"
PettyPansy (Slytherin) (Not Not Neutral)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Holy. Fucking. Merlin-buggering. Shit.
BlackWidow'sSon (Slytherin) (Seduction Runs in His Blood)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Svetlana is good for you, Draco. Before her, I could never have imagined you saying half of those things in such a reasonable manner.
Svetlana (Pure-Blood) (Durmstrang) (Russian)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Thank you. I try. My little Dragon is more than meets the eye, yes?
BlackWidow'sSon (Slytherin) (Seduction Runs in His Blood)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Looks like Potter's 'Mind Healer' manipulations have failed.
SherlockBones (Hufflepuff)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Is it weird that I have a bad feeling about this ritual?
NottaProblem (Slytherin) (Pure-Blood) (Dark)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Scoff* No, that just shows that even Blood Traitors can see the obvious when it is right in front of them.
TerribleTwinsA (Gryffindor) (Prankster) (Beater)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
…
TerribleTwins1 (Gryffindor) (Prankster) (Beater)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
…
TheYoungestRedhead (Gryffindor) (Weasley)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
… Well, this is awkward.
End of Page. 1, 2, 3… 7, 8, 9, 10, 11… 13, 14, 15
(Showing page 10 of 15)
DeanyDean (Gryffindor)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
It's like the worst Mexican standoff I've ever seen.
PrincessAnya (Russian) (Ex-Princess) (Guest)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
As deplorable and insane as he is, the monster is correct. It is very hard to find good help. I imagine it would only be harder without a body.
HenchwomanVtuber (Ravenclaw) (LoveGooder) (Coven Member #2) (Shh, It's a Secret)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Not if you build your own coven~!
PrincessAnya (Russian) (Ex-Princess) (Guest)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Hmm… Victor my beloved?
KrumNumber1 (Durmstrang Champion) (Durmstrang) (Guest)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
We will talk about it. I am just glad to see you alright, My Anya.
FabulouslyLavender (Fabulous) (Gryffindor) (Queen Bee)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Huh, when did the champions come out of the maze to join us?
FrenchFlower (Beauxbatons Champion) (Guest) (In Denial) (French)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Alas~! I could not win~! Victory was within my grasp~! Ripped away by this undead monster~! No matter~! My coven and I shall strike him down~!
LovelyFrenchBrat (Guest) (Brat (Affectionate)) (French) (Coven Member #3)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
It's okay, Fleur. We love you even if you are ultimately a loser~ *smirk*
FrenchFlower (Beauxbatons Champion) (Guest) (In Denial) (French)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Aak~! My ego! My pride! Nooooo~! The only one who may tease me so is the devilish Rogue who holds my heart~!
IDon'tSparkle (Hogwarts Champion) (Hufflepuff)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Not that long ago. Getting me out of that strange illusion thing took the longest. But now I feel like searching for the Holy Grail, for whatever reason…
End of Page. 1, 2, 3… 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15
(Showing page 11 of 15)
ChangSenpai (Seeker) (Ravenclaw)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Ceddy Bear~! You did good, baby. I'm proud of you. Were you the one directing the illusions or was that something else? Either way, I think you made some of the audience introspective with your performance.
IceQueen (Original Poster) (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Hmm… Hermione. You know Atlas isn't going to want the job, right?
Heather'sMinder (Gryffindor) (Brilliant But Scary)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Yes…?
IceQueen (Original Poster) (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
I'm just saying-…
IcePrincess (Slytherin) (Princess)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Cedric for Minister~!
SherlockBones (Hufflepuff)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
He's got my vote.
DrunkIrishman (Gryffindor) (Irish)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
And my car bomb!
Heather'sMinder (Gryffindor) (Brilliant But Scary)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Operation R.E.V.O.L.U.T.I.O.N stands ready…
HenchwomanVtuber (Ravenclaw) (LoveGooder) (Coven Member #2) (Shh, It's a Secret)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Soon~… Muahahahahahahaha~!
IDon'tSparkle (Hogwarts Champion) (Hufflepuff)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Wait, wait, what?!
End of Page. 1, 2, 3… 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15
(Showing page 12 of 15)
ChangSenpai (Seeker) (Ravenclaw)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
You'll do great, Ceddy! Everyone already loves you and you'll be able to make an actual difference! Just imagine, "Cedric Diggory, The Youngest Minister"
BlackWidow'sSon (Slytherin) (Seduction Runs in His Blood)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
I certainly take Diggory over Fudge. Though that's not saying much at this point. Look at the fool bastard, still trying to deny what he's being shown. He would stick his head in the sand until the Dark Lord takes over at this rate.
TracingDavis (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
So how many Ravenclaws and Slytherins are currently writing down this ritual?
NottaProblem (Slytherin) (Pure-Blood) (Dark)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Hiss* None of your business, Half-Blood!
SoftPads (Ravenclaw) (Quiet Twin)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
raises hand hesitantly* I don't think it's very useful outside of specific situations but intellectually, it's very interesting.
Shiva'sBride (Gryffindor) (Indian Goddess) (Love)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
His hand?! Oh, Merlin, I'm going to be sick!
ChangSenpai (Seeker) (Ravenclaw)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
"Bone of the father" - creating a stable base to build upon? It invokes concepts of birth and lineage as well.
"Flesh of the servant" - Willing sacrifice. Playing off and utilizing the devotion of others? It should probably give him a closer connection to his servants.
"Blood of the enemy" - Note: not 'forcibly taken'. Any blood should have worked.
Conclusion: Voldemort is a drama queen.
AdrianPukey (Slytherin) (Dark)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
It doesn't matter now. He is reborn.
NottaProblem (Slytherin) (Pure-Blood) (Dark)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Witness the source of your doom and damnation, Mudbloods and Traitors!
FabulouslyLavender (Fabulous) (Gryffindor) (Queen Bee)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
I'm going to be sick as well now. That boy's not right.
End of Page. 1, 2, 3… 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15
(Showing page 13 of 15)
TheYoungestRedhead (Gryffindor) (Weasley)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Voldemort or Nott?
FabulouslyLavender (Fabulous) (Gryffindor) (Queen Bee)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Both. But I mainly meant that body. It's so… wrong. Corrupted. It Shouldn't Be.
BlackWidow'sSon (Slytherin) (Seduction Runs in His Blood)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Merlin… The first thing he does is torture the man who brought him back to life. This is the Lord you dedicate yourself to, Nott?
NottaProblem (Slytherin) (Pure-Blood) (Dark)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
He rewards devotion. See? Pettigrew's hand is restored. I wouldn't expect you to understand, Zabini.
IceQueen (Original Poster) (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
"Society bows to men like me"
I don't think we'll ever get a clearer look into Voldemort's mind.
AdrianPukey (Slytherin) (Dark)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Death Eaters… So many still answer his call.
ThiccMilly (Slytherin) (Pure-Blood)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
I hate that my mum and dad are probably there now…
PettyPansy (Slytherin) (Not Not Neutral)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
It's okay, Millie. No one blames you for them. If they do, they'll have to talk to me.
BlackWidow'sSon (Slytherin) (Seduction Runs in His Blood)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
And me. The sensible half of Slytherin will stand with you.
NottaProblem (Slytherin) (Pure-Blood) (Dark)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Traitors!
End of Page. 1, 2, 3… 11, 12, 13, 14, 15
(Showing page 14 of 15)
TheYoungestRedhead (Gryffindor) (Weasley)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Heh, the heroine slips free as the villain monologues. Seems about right.
SherlockBones (Hufflepuff)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Uh, did anyone else notice that Dumbledore stunned Snape and Karkaroff? They looked to be in pain before he did.
HenchwomanVtuber (Ravenclaw) (LoveGooder) (Coven Member #2) (Shh, It's a Secret)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Snapey is, like, a double or triple agent or something equally convoluted. It's something left over from the last war.
KrumNumber1 (Durmstrang Champion) (Durmstrang) (Guest)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
The Headmaster has turned his back on the Dark Lord but he still bears his mark…
FabulouslyLavender (Fabulous) (Gryffindor) (Queen Bee)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Go, Heather, go!
ChangSenpai (Seeker) (Ravenclaw)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Oh no!
NottaProblem (Slytherin) (Pure-Blood) (Dark)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Ha! Escape or not, she's still screwed.
Heather'sMinder (Gryffindor) (Brilliant But Scary)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Groans* Really, Heather? A pun? Now?
SherlockBones (Hufflepuff)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Oh yes! Professor Atlas!
PettyPansy (Slytherin) (Not Not Neutral)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Bellatrix!
End of Page. 1, 2, 3… 12, 13, 14
(Showing page 15 of 15)
DrunkIrishman (Gryffindor) (Irish)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Merlin, look at them go…
IcePrincess (Slytherin) (Princess)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
Woooooo~! Go, Big Bro Atlas~! Kick their stupid, stinky, death-eating butts~!
IceQueen (Original Poster) (Slytherin) (Neutral)
Replied On Jun 24th 1995:
The downfall of the Dark Lord begins not with a bang, but with a pun. I expected nothing less from Heather Potter.
End of Page. 1, 2, 3… 13, 14, 15
IIIII
The WWO fell silent as Heather, Atlas, and Bella carved their way through a small army of Death Eaters. The students were in awe, captivated by the battle. Every eye was fixed on their WWO parchments.
It was so far beyond anything they could have reasonably expected. It was like watching a natural disaster. Or three of them. One for Atlas. One for Bellatrix. And one for Heather Potter.
The scene they watched was bloody. It was vicious. It was beautiful in an awesome way that took their breath away. Spells they didn't know, power they couldn't have imagined, the trio on their parchment went about rewriting the way the students saw the world.
Heather was efficient, taking down Death Eaters more than twice her age with a single powerful and consistent spell. Bella was ruthless, striking down her enemies in ways that made them wish they'd never been born. Atlas was creative and varied, subduing his targets with a different spell every time and doing things that seemed impossible even for a Wizard.
All three of them were power, made manifest. They were electric. Even through the broadcast, the students could practically feel the magic that must have been pouring off them in waves. They were glorious. Myths and legends took shape before the students' eyes.
Outside the students and the WWO, the crowd's reaction was similar. Most were on the edge of their seats. Some were even standing. Some couldn't bear to look. Others couldn't look away.
They watched on a big screen as Heather Potter was kidnapped and used in a twisted ritual. They watched the reveal of Lord Voldemort, both in his temporary form and his newly reborn body. They watched as the situation turned on the Dark Lord, so quickly and in spectacular fashion.
"Oh, the humanity!" Witches gasped.
"My word…" Wizards were left speechless.
"Merlin on a bicycle! What a turn of events!" Ludo Bagman took up his one and only job: providing commentary.
"The Dark Lord seems to be on the back foot! How has this happened?! Was it planned?! How marvelously coordinated! I truly believe we are witnessing history here, folks!"
"This can't be happening… It can't! It can't! Cut the spell! This must be some kind of prank!" Fudge stuck his head firmly into the sand.
Of course, no one listened to his commands. Everyone was enraptured, entranced by the events playing out before them. Fudge was left to scramble, trying to cut the spell himself and failing miserably.
"This can't be happening! He's dead. Dead! He can't be reborn! Oh, we're doomed! I'm doomed!" Fudge muttered frantically to himself.
On the screen, Atlas, Bella, and Heather moved as one. Pure might and power. Proficiency and skill. Control and capability. As far as anyone watching could tell, they were masters of magical combat. Or at least close enough that no one envied the Death Eaters against them.
Heather sent her targets flying with simple stunners fueled by her potent magic. Something most in the audience didn't even know was possible. Atlas whipped up a storm of spells they'd never seen before. Bella utterly destroyed any who dared to face her.
The battle was miles away. Yet it was right in front of them as well. The world seemed to shake with the weight of every spell. The sounds of combat were deafening. Screams and shouts, bangs and booms, concrete and fleshy impacts, the whiz of spellfire, those two dreaded words starting with A and K.
It was all anyone there could hear, all they could look at, and all they could focus on. Three people - one of whom hadn't even earned her OWLs - were facing down Voldemort and his followers. And as far as anyone could tell, they were winning.
The judges for the Triwizard Tournament were rendered obsolete for the moment. The Third Task was completely forgotten about. Bagman made himself useful with commentary, describing the scene for those listening over the Wizarding Wireless.
"Good Merlin! How much magic does the Girl-Who-Lived have?! She's sending Death Eaters flying left and right! It's like her stunners are banishers!
"And the things Bellatrix Black is doing-! Well, I can't rightly describe them to the public! Dragonfire and Unicorn Dust! That man is deader than dead!
"Atlas Black is a man on a mission! Those spells! That power! He's here to strike fear, take names, and wreak havoc! Sweet Morgana's Tittymilk! Where did he learn that one?!"
Crouch had outright fainted. It was out of character for the gruff hardliner. But Voldemort had clearly implied that 'Crouch' helped rig the tournament and task to bring Heather before him. With no one in the know willing to explain his son's involvement, Crouch Snr just about had a heart attack and passed out cold.
Dumbledore did the honors of stunning Karkaroff - as well as his Potions Professor Snape - when Voldemort called for his Death Eaters. But so far, that was the only finger he'd seemingly raised in assistance. Meanwhile, he'd called for a House Elf to bring him a bucket of popcorn so he could enjoy the show.
"Should we not help?!" Madam Maxime worried.
"They're doing a wonderful job of it so far. And it's their plan. I have faith in them," Dumbledore answered dismissively.
"Plan? You knew this was going to happen?!" Madam Maxime asked incredulously.
Dumbledore didn't bother to answer other than a twinkle in his eyes, changing the subject completely, "It seems Bella still holds something of a grudge against those that once pulled her strings."
Professor McGonagall stormed over to the Judge's Table, "Albus! Do something! If my lion gets hurt or heavens forbid, killed because ye sat on yer old wrinkly ass, Ah will piss in yer tea!"
Her crude broguish threat made Dumbledore break out into laughter, "Hahaha~! Oh, Minerva. Come, sit with us. And as the youth say, 'chill'.
"Everything's under control. Atlas and Bella are with her. They have a whole plan complete with contingencies in case of failure. Heather will be fine."
McGonagall was still mad, practically steaming out her ears. Dumbledore tried another method of placating his old friend, "Fire Whiskey, Minerva?"
She huffed, "Yer damn straight, Albus! And the moment they falter, I'm dragging ye with me to wherever they are!"
She sat down, pushing Crouch's unconscious body out of his seat without giving the fainting judge a single moment of consideration. Aurora and Septima joined the group soon after, having heard the commotion.
"They'll be fine, Minerva," Septima assured. "The whole coven is behind her. And Albus himself helped more than he's letting on."
"Need one of Pomona's green rollies?" Aurora offered.
McGonagall snorted flames, having downed an anxious gulp of Fire Whiskey in the meantime, "Nae, lass. I'll manage. Maybe you can soothe my nerves with a bit more information instead?"
Septima nodded, "Of course, Minerva. We were tipped off to Voldemort's schemes beforehand. Atlas had the high risk, high reward idea of setting a trap for him-…"
While Septima explained the coven's plan, Voldemort finally made his move on the big screen. The crowd screamed and cried at his mere presence. Even removed from the situation, they could all feel how corrupt and wrong the Dark Lord was.
They'd been close to cheering. So many Death Eaters had fallen before the trio. The tides seemed to be flowing firmly in their favor. Then Voldemort stepped up and shifted the playing field altogether.
Dark magic, the darkest of the dark, flowed from him and his wand. Witches and Wizards alike in the audience shivered, practically feeling the accursed spell.
Death rebelled at Voldemort's whim. The dead began to rise. Inferni swarmed the graveyard, rushing for everyone but their Dark Lord.
The trio were backed into a corner. Back to back to back, they fought what looked to be a losing battle.
There were too many. An entire graveyard of Inferni. Sooner or later, they would be overwhelmed. Even Bella's Fiend Fire didn't seem to be enough to save them.
Then Atlas set the world ablaze with a roar. Flames poured forth from his wand into great storm clouds overhead. The clouds grew and grew, beginning to swirl into a vortex that surrounded the trio and annihilated everything in their path.
Even under the crimson and gold light of the flaming clouds, Atlas glowed. His skin sparked and crackled with magical energy. His eyes were brilliant pools of violet, lighthouses in the firestorm. He stood strong and tall, a colossus in the eye of a hurricane.
A grimace of complete concentration played across his face. It utterly failed to detract from the stirring scene. The audience was floored by the breathtaking feat of magic and control. It was unimaginable. Awesome in every sense of the word.
Fudge, still trying and failing to cut the broadcast spell, had the most front-row seat to the scene. He paled. He stumbled. He fell on his behind. Doom flashed before his eyes. If it wasn't the Dark Lord, it would be Atlas Black.
Dumbledore smirked smugly at his Transfiguration Professor and longtime friend, "I taught him that spell."
Much looser with a bit of whiskey in her, McGonagall rolled her eyes, "Aye, and I'm sure he casts it much better than ye, old man."
Dumbledore chuckled, "He reminds me of myself in my prime."
McGonagall eyed him suspiciously, stating more than asking, "Ye have something planned."
"Perhaps," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "I just need him to kick Tom's skinny pale arse first."
"Are ye sure he can?" A bit of anxiety still played on McGonagall's nerves.
"Honestly, Minerva? Tom has no idea how badly he's fucked up."
The audience did cheer now. After something like that, they couldn't not. Spirits rose. The momentum swung firmly back in the trio's favor… Then Voldemort walked through the flames like they were nothing.
It wasn't what he did. It was how he did it. Any one of the Witches and Wizards in the audience could have done the same with the Flame-Freezing Charm. None could have done it so well, so menacingly.
Instantly, reality reasserted itself. This was still You-Know-Who. This was still Lord Voldemort. A fact that the Dark Lord was quick to remind everyone of, "Witness my glory! I am Lord Voldemort!"
There was only a brief moment of respite. Bella's animation of the graveyard's statues was impressive. Even to the Dark Lord. Her reaction to Atlas calling her 'Momma' received a few nervous chuckles and plucked heartstrings. But soon enough, the attention returned to the coming duel.
Even miles away from the graveyard, the tension was palpable. Heather Potter faced off against her fated rival. Lord Voldemort stared down his supposed vanquisher. This was Prophecy. This was Fate.
Those sitting found themselves standing. Those standing felt themselves lean forwards. This was it. The Girl-Who-Lived and You-Know-Who. A destined duel.
"Expelli-… !"
"Avada Keda-… !"
"Coel Disrumpo!"
The world blinked in shock. Space itself, torn asunder and weaponized to disrupt destiny. The audience couldn't believe their eyes. They were struck silent, stunned.
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled knowingly at McGonagall, "I told you so~"
The first noise to break the shocked stillness was a laugh. One of disbelief and tenuous relief. It spread like wildfire through the crowd. Cheers roared as Voldemort stayed down. The laughter joined them as Voldemort raged impotently.
As ridiculous, as unbelievable as it was, Voldemort was defeated. He was nothing but a torso and head. He could rage and rage as much as he wanted. What damage could he do if he couldn't even hold a wand?
Drinks were raised. Sparks were shot from the tips of wands. People hugged and kissed. They hadn't even been in danger, safe miles away from the battle. But just the sight of You-Know-Who had brought back bad memories.
For the second time (that they knew of), he was defeated by Heather Potter. And like the first, the only thing that could logically follow for most Witches and Wizards was riotous celebration. Only a few - including the students - continued watching with their full attention as Heather and Bella took care of the rest of the Death Eaters.
The cleanup was relegated to the background. The main focus of the broadcast switched from Heather to Atlas as he sat down for a 'civil' conversation with his defeated foe. Still full of revelry, the crowd watched and listened as Atlas taunted the petulant Dark Lord.
The more cautious in the crowd felt shivers run down their spines at what Atlas revealed. He could break prophecy. Or at the very least, interfere with them. That shiver doubled amongst the most knowledgeable and cautious when Voldemort's Horcruxes were revealed.
Still, the majority paid the additional information no mind. Belches of Fire Whiskey flames filled the air. They drank and reveled, toasting Atlas Black and Heather Potter.
The full prophecy was revealed and the crowd just laughed. It might as well be an empty poem now, after all. Then came the Dark Lord's reaction to the full prophecy and the cheers redoubled. That was the true moment of his defeat.
The Death Eaters were dealt with. Heather skipped back over to Atlas. Atlas left Voldemort to wallow in his failure. The coven was summoned to their side.
The coven itself was new information for the majority of the public. It helped clear up the course of events though. Heather Potter had a plan going into this and a whole coven at her back. This wasn't a victory of luck or opportunity. It was a trap all along!
The ritual - so key to the entire plan - was revealed. The audience watched as it was carried out. The good mood faltered slightly at the blood sacrifice, only soothed at all by Atlas' clarification. Voldemort's shame at his defeat being witnessed certainly helped as well.
Though illegal and borderline Dark, the ritual was met with smiles of relief. As was the prospect of the Death Eaters facing justice. The chance to witness a coven's handfasting sent the mood skyrocketing even higher than before.
It was touching enough to make Witches swoon, young and old. It was intimate and private enough to make Wizards avert their gaze. It was the happy ending the audience was waiting for. It was the cherry on top of Voldemort's banishment and defeat.
The broadcast on the big screen stuttered and cut off. That didn't stop the party. Britain was safe and Dark-Lord-free. Nothing could have stopped its Witches and Wizards from celebrating.
On the WWO, a new thread opened. Operation R.E.V.O.L.U.T.I.O.N. The gears began to turn. The End of Voldemort was only the beginning for the students of Hogwarts and their guests. They rallied. They prepared. They waited for their champions.
They didn't have to wait long. Atlas, Heather, and the rest of the White Coven portkeyed back onto the scene. Immediately, the crowd tried to swarm them, wanting to give congratulations and shake the hands of the saviors of the Wizarding World.
They quickly found out that wasn't a great idea. Atlas stood tall in front of his coven. Heather stood at his side. He looked out from under the brim of a black hat, his eyes glowing on his shadowed face. His aura pushed back the swarming Witches and Wizards on its own.
He cut an intimidating figure. Swathed in black and shadow, the darkness of the night seemed as if it was being subsumed into his aura. His glare had even more of an effect than the power that cloaked him, making people step back unconsciously.
Beside him, Heather was Atlas' opposite. She was the light that cast his shadow. She stood as tall as she could. Which wasn't much. But the light of her aura - free, victorious, and unconquered - more than made up for her physical stature.
They came in hot. The crowd was reminded of what they'd just watched. What they'd witnessed. These two champions had defeated the Dark Lord. The crowd took another step back, almost as one. They gave the coven the space Atlas wordlessly commanded from them.
Dumbledore approached their group, parting the twinned auras like they weren't even there. He had a satisfied and slightly smug smile on his face. He stopped right in front of Atlas, 'facing off' like two titans. The Wizarding World held its breath.
Then McGonagall came bowling in to wrap Heather in a tight hug.
"Aak~! Professor?!" Heather exclaimed in surprise.
"Hush, lass," McGonagall shushed her. "If you can face the Dark Lord, you can bear to deal with a hug from your father's godmother."
Heather fell silent at that, "… Huh. Does that make you my great-godmother or something? Why was this never mentioned before?"
"It didnae come up," McGonagall answered broguishly, her voice rough with emotion as she pulled Heather even tighter against her bosom. "And technically, no. I don't think the title of 'godmother' passes through blood like that."
"Doesn't matter!" Heather declared, making the hug even tighter. "Just try and stop me from claiming you! You're family now!"
McGonagall gave a sniffling chuckle into Heather's hair, "Oh dear. Whatever shall I do… I'm glad you're okay, Heather."
Hermione tried to shy away from the pair, hiding the tiniest twinge of jealousy. She failed, squeaking as Heather grabbed her hand without looking and pulled her into the hug.
"I'm proud of you too, Miss Gran-… Hermione," McGonagall said, holding both of her lions close.
Dumbledore chuckled, his smugness softening at the scene before returning as he turned back to Atlas, "So, Atlas, how does it feel to be the slayer of a Dark Lord?"
Atlas gazed back at him with a deadpan expression, "Tiring. I can already feel my self-control for the worshipful public wavering. So I'm leaving the rest to you, Albus."
"Ha!" Dumbledore barked a laugh. "Yeah, right. I'm not managing that chaos again. One Dark Lord in my life was more than enough."
Atlas smiled as if butter wouldn't melt in his mouth, "But, Albus, that just means you're used to it. Are you saying you won't act as an advocate for your staff and students?"
Dumbledore's eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly, "… No, of course I will. But I can't help but feel you're taking advantage of an old man's generosity."
"Oh, no, no, of course not," Atlas shook his head 'innocently'. "I would just like you to manage the inevitable rewards for me and Heather and explain your part in the plan to the public."
After another moment of narrowed eyes, Dumbledore's face brightened with an idea, "Anything for my students, staff, and… successor."
Atlas nodded, "Good man. The coven and I will be taking a-… I'm sorry, successor?"
It was Dumbledore's turn to act innocent and he blew Atlas out of the water in that category, "Nothing, my friend. Nothing for you to concern yourself with just yet, at least. You were saying?"
Atlas' eyes narrowed in suspicion but he still answered, "… I was saying that the coven and I will be taking a vacation."
"Ah, a marvelous idea," Dumbledore nodded. "What with summer upon us and all. I wish I could join you but I'm afraid I'll be… busy."
"I'm not sure I like the idea of you staying here and pulling strings behind my back…"
"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."
"Successor, Albus?" Atlas asked pointedly.
Dumbledore hummed, "Hmm? I'm afraid I can't quite hear you. You'll have to speak up, Atlas. Old age and all, I'm sure you understand."
"Albus…"
"Ah, I'm sure it wasn't important."
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled with mischievous amusement. Atlas suddenly felt a premonition pool in his gut. But no matter how much he glared pointedly at Dumbledore, the Headmaster wouldn't budge. He just kept smiling that 'too-innocent' smile of his with those twinkling eyes.
Cornelius Fudge had been run through a whole gamut of emotions. Embarrassment and shame to pants-wetting fear to awe and back to fear again. Now, he was afraid of fading into irrelevance.
It seemed to be an inevitability though. He'd firmly 'fudged' up the Third Task, making Cedric's portion of it into a public humiliation session for himself and the Ministry and losing Heather, even if that part wasn't in his control. Then the Dark Lord returned to life in front of everyone. And even when he was dealt with, Fudge couldn't claim any of the acclaim!
He was on the back foot. No, he was so far past the 'back foot' that he'd fallen on his ass. His position was hanging on by the thinnest thread. There was a blatant challenger, one that seemed set to rival even Dumbledore's prestige.
A very slim few could claim to have defeated a Dark Lord. Even if the burden for that achievement was split over a whole coven, Atlas and Heather were the obvious champions.
Fudge wanted to do anything but give up his power. There had to be a way out of this corner, he thought. And if he didn't act now, he wouldn't get another chance. His mind worked frantically but no brilliant solution presented itself. Eventually, Fudge settled for doing what he did best: lash out.
"Sorcery!" Fudge accused, stomping his way through the crowd. "Aurors, citizens! The Ministry demands this man's arrest! A bounty! Yes! 20,000 Galleons for whoever takes down this wretched sorcerer!"
"Really?" Atlas asked incredulously. "You can't read a room at all?"
Fudge could. He knew the public's opinion was firmly behind Atlas and the White Coven. But he was also desperate. Desperate to sway that opinion before it could set in and desperate to keep his position.
Dumbledore just sounded disappointed, "Cornelius… We're Wizards. We use magic. That's what we do. Sorcery is just about the exact opposite of a crime."
"B-But-," Fudge sputtered. "Ah! Rituals! Black magic rituals are illegal in Britain!"
"Would you rather we didn't banish and seal Voldemort while we could? Hell, we were even merciful enough to not kill him."
"Aha! But you killed the Death Eaters! And you sacrificed their blood! If that isn't Black magic, I don't know what is."
"Self-defense. And you're right. You don't know what Black magic is."
"See?! He doesn't even defend himself!"
"That's because you're right entirely by accident. It was Black magic. Black Family Magic."
"A-A-… Oh…" Fudge quickly ran out of ideas for accusations, recognizing a wall when he slammed into one.
The glares from the crowd were practically physical, stabbing into Fudge. He quailed and shrunk in on himself. He sputtered, trying to discreetly back away and make his escape.
Everywhere he tried was blocked by another section of the crowd. Angry Witches and Wizards encircled him. Seeing no other option, Fudge squeaked and apparated out in a sudden rush of air, immensely glad that the Hogwarts wards were temporarily relaxed to make attendance easier for the same crowd that threatened him.
The crowd fumed amongst themselves, resentment boiling - stoked by a few opportunistic student revolutionaries - over the treatment of the freshly-dubbed 'Girl-Who-Won' and 'Man-Who-Helped'. They were whipped into a frenzy until riot, protest, and revolution were the only options that would satisfy them.
Suddenly, Dumbledore made a big show of stumbling over a long, long piece of rope, his voice effortlessly rising over the din a moment later, "Oops. Oh dear, how clumsy of me. Where did this mass portkey directly to the Ministry where Cornelius Fudge has undoubtedly run to hide in his office come from?
"Oh well. I'm going to bed, leaving this portkey unattended and free to be used by any who desire to. The activation phrase is 'Fudging Coup'. But I'm sure that won't be needed."
Even after Dumbledore's performance, a few in the crowd had to be clued in. It was almost pathetic but thankfully, the affliction of Wizarding Density only seemed to apply to the older generation among them. The students were quite ready to put their plans into motion.
A voice from the crowd piped up to be heard over the crowd, "Black for-!"
"No," Atlas cut them off before the words had the chance to grow into a chant. "Just no. The coven and I are taking a vacation. You can deal with Fudge on your own. You have my approval so long as you don't completely lynch him.
"In fact, c'mon, girls. Let's get going before they try to draft us anyway. Sun, sea, and sand await!"
The coven quickly voiced their approval. Anything to escape unnecessary responsibility for an entire country being foisted upon their shoulders. Their first destination was soon decided and they began apparating out to prepare.
Hermione, Heather, and Atlas were the last three to leave. Heather puffed herself up dramatically, declaring, "You have nothing to lose but your chains! Cast them off! Prepare a Wizarding World for the Girl-Who-Won to approve of when she returns! Your savior commands it!"
Atlas chuckled, "You're having way too much fun with this."
Heather grinned at him. Hermione turned to her First Revolutionary Lieutenant - Susan Bones - and instructed in a hurry, "Proceed with Plan C.O.U.P! I'll keep in touch!"
"How will we contact you?" Susan asked frantically.
"WWO!" Hermione answered before the last of the White Coven disappeared for better things.
"Bollocks!" Susan swore. "She left us! What are we supposed to do now?"
"Can you blame her?" Tracey Davis chuckled.
"Beach time with Professor Daddy? Hell, no! Sign me up!" Pansy exclaimed.
A ghostly cat appeared before Pansy, bearing a Patronus Message, "Pansy. You and your mother are invited along on our vacation under House Black."
With a girlish squeal, Pansy began sprinting back to the Castle to pack. The revolution lost one of its best gossip-… Ahem, information-gatherers…
Neville came up to Susan's side and took her hand. She went stiff for a moment before relaxing and leaning into his touch. He stood strong, a support for her to rely on. For a moment, he could have been mistaken for the revolution's champion.
Taking command, Neville answered Susan's half-rhetorical question, "We stick to the plan. Everything's prepared. It's about time we do something for ourselves."
"Who will be Minister if not the Man-Who-Helped?!" Someone called from the crowd, the new title sticking almost immediately.
Cho Chang was the one who started the chant that soon followed, grinning mischievously at her boyfriend, "Cedric Diggory! Minister of Silly Walks!"
The chant spread like wildfire through the crowd. Soon enough, the whole Quidditch Pitch was chanting Cedric's name. He sighed. Then he caught his father's eyes in the crowd. Amos Diggory was proud as a peacock and entirely on board with the idea. That sight all but guaranteed Cedric's acceptance.
The crowd rallied. In a strange twist of the usual, adults found themselves being led by the students, parents led by their children. All three schools of the Triwizard Tournament were represented in the student uprising. International cooperation in the face of incompetent tyranny.
In Hermione's place, Neville stepped up. His nerves were frayed every second he stood before the crowd. But stand he did. He dug deep and found himself taking the role of the revolution's champion alongside Cedric. Susan stood by his side, marveling at what the boy she'd been crushing on since First Year had become.
Victor led the international students, his princes-in-exile at his side. Cedric didn't so much lead as he was led, dragged along by a giggling Cho who thought the whole thing was hilarious. Of course, she also knew it was a good opportunity. It was as much a prank on her boyfriend as it was her pushing him to be the best man he could be.
When the crowd arrived at the Ministry, courtesy of Dumbledore's 'forgotten' portkey, they were met by a very confused employee at the front desk. Neville - the proper gentleman that he was - went about signing them in.
Surprisingly enough, the Ministry of Magic had standardized forms for events just like this: Permission Forms for Revolutionary and Riotous Crowds 1-3B.
Despite how late it was, there were still people working in the Ministry. Almost all of them had been listening to the events of that night on the Wizarding Wireless. They came to watch the crowd as it stormed through the Ministry's Atrium.
Most were still in shock, both from this student-led uprising and the prior return and defeat of the Dark Lord. Some knew that change was coming, having been discreetly tipped off of the machinations inside of Hogwarts. Now that those plans had spilled into action, they put down their jobs and joined their children.
The crowd grew. Things stayed relatively peaceful. Only the already thoroughly wasted adults caused any trouble. The students found themselves keeping those few troublemakers in line more than they were 'rebelling'.
Every elevator in the Atrium dinged at the same time. The crowd poured into them, all pressing the same button. As if by magic, the elevators actually complied despite the lack of approved wand signatures. They moved as one down to the floor the Minister's office was on.
Cornelius Fudge had fled the crowd mere minutes before. He holed himself up in his office and began frantically packing up everything and anything of value.
His time as Minister of Magic was over. Through! Done with! Of that much, he was sure. He doubted he would live through the night. His only option was to flee the country, looting everything his greedy hands could carry in the process.
He didn't make it out of his office before the revolution came knocking. His only saving grace was that Atlas had instructed them not to lynch Fudge too badly. Still, three minutes later, Fudge was thrown onto the streets of Muggle London - completely naked except for his trademark bowler hat.
Back in the Minister's office, Cedric was installed. Almost immediately after that, the crowd began to disperse now that there was actual work to be done. It was a surprisingly bloodless revolution, more like a switching spell than a beheading coup.
Cedric and the main students responsible for organizing the revolution alongside Hermione sat down in the Minister's office, broke out Fudge's good drink, and tried to figure out what the hell went into running a country. Just that one meeting went on to be more productive than anything Fudge had done in office…
For the rest of the Wizarding World, the party lasted long into the morning. Voldemort was defeated. For good this time! Fudge was deposed. Good riddance! There was drink to be had and magic to be cast! Such marked the night of the Bloody Good Fudging Coup.
IIIII
A bit more than 15 years in the future, something extraordinary took place. Something related to the main cast and Atlas' story by only the slimmest of threads.
What was achieved was extraordinary enough. A strange collision of people and ideas that furthered the fields of exploration and science. What was found was even more so.
A crew of Muggles set out to do what only two men had done before. Their mission was to reach the deepest point of Earth's seabed: Challenger Deep. To that end, they built a vehicle, a submersible named 'Deepsea Challenger'.
They had the funding, with corporate partners and sponsors. They had the passion, with most of the team as avid divers and experienced engineers. And they had their pilot.
James Cameron. A Canadian film director. On the surface, perhaps the strangest choice for a pilot the mission could have taken.
The man was passionate about the ocean, loving shipwrecks in particular. He'd done good work in the form of activism and promotion with his movies. He'd contributed to the project, both in funding and in technological advancements he'd used previously during filming for 'Titanic' (underwater filming and remote-operated vehicles).
But did he have the skills? The steel will? Apparently… yes. He became National Geographic's explorer-in-residence. He took the first step of exploration using the Deepsea Challenger submersible. He dove into the crushing darkness of the ocean's depths.
The achievement of being the first solo pilot to reach the deepest point of Earth's seabed was already beyond impressive. What James Cameron found there though… It had to be censored and classified immediately.
"-We… have… touchdown," James Cameron reported over his radio, practically reverent at the chance he'd been given.
"Congratulations, James," The radio answered. "What do you see?"
"Exterior camera's working as planned. Picking up bits of life. A whole lotta sand. And-… what in the world…?"
"James?"
"Please tell me someone else is seeing this. And that they know what the hell 'this' is. 'Cause it can't possibly be what I think it is."
"Shine the light a little to the left."
"It is…"
"A torso and head? It looks… wrong but how is it still seemingly in pristine condition? Scavengers or the pressure or even just water damage should have gotten to it in minutes if not seconds."
"It's screaming…"
"What? That's not possible. You feeling okay, James?"
"It's screaming. I can hear it. I can feel it…"
"Jesus! I-I'm pulling you out, James. We're pulling you out. You've already got the record. No documentary is worth this creepy shit."
"Yeah… Let's leave this thing to the crabs."
The Deepsea Challenger began its ascent earlier than expected. As it did, the impossible screaming outside took on elements of sobbing.
Voldemort (or what was left of him) had spent 15 years at the bottom of the sea. 'Tartarus' was worse than Hell for him. His surroundings were so pitch black that he didn't even realize he was in the ocean until now. Every so often something came along, unseen in the darkness, to pick at his body. He couldn't do anything about it.
The pressure was beyond crushing. His lungs were constantly filled with what he now knew was water. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't stop screaming. And yet, he couldn't die either.
He was stuck there at the bottom of the ocean in crushing darkness forever. The Deepsea Challenger was the first bit of light he'd seen during his seemingly infinite torture. Just as quickly as it had arrived, it left him blind and alone again.
Even if he was found again, he knew he wouldn't be saved. Not by Muggles that wouldn't be able to overcome the magical component of his seal. He would be there until the seas boiled.
In the freshly returned darkness, something tried to nibble on his body. It didn't make a dent in the magic that kept him alive and whole but he could still feel every second of it. Who knew what else lurked in the dark…
Still sobbing, Voldemort resumed his only 'entertainment' here in 'Tartarus', "499,873,542 bottles of beer on the wall~, 499,873,542 bottles of beer~!"
Epilogue: Vacation (All I Ever Wanted~)
AN: Another 12k words but it's done… The final word count for this story (according to my word processor) is 280,000. This chapter kind of got away from me but I'm happy with it. Originally, it was just supposed to be two smut scenes. But I figured all the girls deserved some smutty/fluffy screen time.
But this is it, folks. It's officially a wrap for Book 1. Feel free to hit me with ideas for a potential crossover. I haven't decided if the coven is going to be world-hopping or if the crossover will still be in the HP universe. I can think of ways to do either, depending on what the crossover ends up being. But for now, I need a break from this story.
Currently, I have ideas for an OC slice-of-life/childhood friend romance one-shot, some character-focused smut, some OC smut, a yandere warlock/patron story, some tomboy stuff, some goth stuff, some femboy stuff (for fans of that), a monster-girl harem, a cultivator in HP story (probably going to avoid until I recharge my HP batteries), something I'm calling 'My Religious Zealot Sister Can't Be This Cute!', a DC-Gotham story that will be pretty cracky, a historical/Greek Mythology story, and a few OC novel ideas.
For those who don't like to read certain things (yandere and femboy stuff come to mind. They're acquired tastes), don't worry. Everything will be tagged extensively. If you don't like something, you'll be able to avoid it. Simple as. Please, don't complain if I write something you don't personally like. I'll be trying to keep things varied so hopefully, everyone will have something to enjoy.
Feel free to support me at Pat /dryskies_btb if you want to read my work early! I have 10 chapters from various stories already up at time of posting and another chapter should be going up later today as well.
IIIII
"Septima~!" Aurora whined playfully. "It's puff-puff-pass, not puff-puff-puff-puff-puff-pass. Don't be a joint hog."
"Shhhhh~!" Septima shushed her in reply. "I'm on the verge of greatness here! If we… Then use the Three-Fold Rule… Infinite loop of smoke-leaf production!"
Aurora giggled, "Septima, they're plants. They're already an infinitely renewable resource."
"But," Septima reasoned, as far from the concept of 'sober' as possible. "If we use Arithmancy, we can get three times the profit for the same investment!"
"Yeah? Do you want to be the one to tell Pomona and the Hogwarts Cartel that you're cutting in on their turf?" Aurora smirked.
"Eep~! Nevermind!" Septima squeaked.
"Still, if we keep the math in mind and tell Pomona instead, maybe she'll give us a discount," Aurora suggested.
"Genius!" Septima exclaimed.
"Good. Now, pass that shit, Witch!"
I reached up to intercept the spliff before Aurora could. She gasped, scandalized, "Atlas?! I'll get you for that!"
With the joint firmly in my mouth, a wrestling match soon ensued as Aurora tried to steal it back from me. The hammock swung freely. Aurora found herself mounting my hips with a grin. She ground down against me.
I groaned at the sensation. Her skin was warm on mine and her arousal was obvious. She took advantage of my distraction, snatching the spliff from my lips. Grinning smugly, she claimed her 'victory'.
It seemed she'd forgotten something though. Something that was quickly hardening between her legs. My cock parted her pussy lips. Shuddering, she ground down on the underside of my shaft again.
My hands grabbed ahold of the swell of her hips. White on black, the contrast was beautiful. Perfectly dark skin glistened slightly with sweat. Her body was soft, yielding like clay to my touch.
Liquid arousal coated my crotch, pouring forth from her core as I raised her up a bit. I slid into place and slid into heaven at the same time. Aurora moaned, her eyes fluttering. She breathed out a cloud of smoke with a shuddering exhale that did wonderful things to her chest.
The hammock made things difficult from there. I couldn't really thrust. She couldn't really ride. We ended up just grinding against each other. I was buried to the hilt. She ground her clit against my pelvis, my cockhead deep inside her.
A soft whine drew my attention partially away from Aurora. Septima cuddled close on my side. Kisses blanketed my neck and chest, asking for my attention. A hand came up to cup the back of her neck and pull her into me.
Septima melted into my kiss. Her soft tits molded to my chest. Diamond nipples tingled with electric pleasure. She pushed herself further onto me. At the same time, Aurora shifted, trying for a proper thrust.
The hammock gave up the ghost of stability. It flipped, dumping us onto the sand. Squeals and yelps of surprise left our lips. Aurora moaned, somehow still impaled on me. Her inner walls fluttered around me as she went stiff.
When climax left her beautiful body, she leaned backward with her hands on my thighs. We all looked at each other for a few moments. Aurora giggled. Septima and I soon joined her. Then Aurora took advantage of the more stable surface to begin riding me properly.
I sighed, "Ahhh~ This is the life."
It really was. Sprawled out on a hammock hanging between two palm trees with Septima and Aurora, nothing could ruin this. Whatever was going on in Britain at the moment - Hell, the whole rest of the world even - could be ignored. We had a whole island to ourselves.
Our vacation was in full swing already. The White Coven, House Black, and our allies were free of stress and anything other than the most petty concerns. Like keeping Aurora's stock of magical herbs full. Or like making sure to remember alcohol runs with Sirius and Cygnus. Only the barest thought was paid to modesty as well.
In the aftermath of Voldemort's defeat, we removed ourselves from Britain to a private island in the Azores owned by House Black. Fleur begged off inviting her parents out of pure embarrassment but I invited House Malfoy, House Parkinson, House Greengrass, and the Tonks family as well. Just to be thorough. It wasn't like we were hurting for space here.
Black Island was exactly seven square miles in total area. More than enough for a small party of 20. It was warded against trespassers and unplottable on every map but House Black's. Set in the middle of the Atlantic, the closest land was the Azores island chain. They were close enough to apparate to.
The island itself was tropical. It was picturesque, really. Beaches of white sand on one side of the island. Beautiful cliffs on the other. In the middle, most of the island was a tropical forest. A small mountain rose in the center, likely the remnants of the volcanic activity that formed the island, with a crater-like hotspring at the very top.
We were all staying in bungalows near the beach. Everyone was enjoying themselves so far. No responsibilities, no stress or pressure, good company, and seemingly all the time in the world took care of that.
Even the Grind took a backseat for once. This was a vacation. I wasn't about to ruin it with strenuous Grinding. Well, no Grinding other than the sensual kind.
The important part was that I wasn't training for anything at the moment. None of us were. There was simply no need anymore. We could spend our time and attention on the more important things in life. Like smoking in a hammock with my lovers.
We relaxed on the beach. We explored the island. We bathed in the hot springs at the top. We swam in the wonderfully warm waters of the ocean. We feasted on the island's bounty of fruit and wildlife. We danced, partied, and bonded next to bonfires when the sunset. We didn't have a worry in the world.
The comforts of civilization were only a quick apparition away but we had magic for most things. If anyone was feeling particularly homesick, Britain was likewise close. Only a single international portkey. But none of us were willing to leave paradise for Wizarding Britain just yet.
Even Hermione wasn't willing to leave. She was having trouble giving herself over completely to the vacation spirit though. Much of her time on the island was spent glued to her WWO parchment. Keeping in touch with the people back home was nice but she needed to realize that she didn't have to control everything.
I felt the need to do something about that little issue of hers. Luna joined me. On the island, we had all the time in the world to plot and plan for her own good. Hermione needed to relax and Luna and I were determined to make that happen.
A few days into our vacation, Luna and I put our plan into action. The girls were playing in the surf on the beach, clad in Muggle bathing suits sold at Ponta Delgada (the largest city in the Azores). Tonks joined them, having begged off (literally) from her job to come on vacation with us. Pansy and Astoria were with them as well.
Most of the adults were relaxing a short way up the shore. Surprisingly, the Muggle bathing suits were a huge hit with the Witches. The same could be said for me, Sirius, Cygnus, and Ted, though we Wizards enjoyed them in a slightly different way than the Witches.
Much to Daphne's understated embarrassment, Ada Greengrass was a pale vision in black with her newly acquired bikini. Cygnus certainly made his appreciation clear. He hadn't stopped complimenting his wife since she bought it and Ada's cheeks seemed to be perpetually rosy now. They stole away for some private time almost as much as the coven did.
Phoebe rocked her suit as well. She seemed to take pleasure in leading Sirius around by his nose like he was a dog… He was. Still, romance was in the air between those two. And I for one, was happy for my father. I didn't envy him having to tell Amelia though.
Andromeda wore a much more modest suit than the other Witches. She was content to show off for her husband Ted and him alone. Narcissa and Bella though…
Narcissa was a Witch who was still very much in her prime. She took to the concept of a bikini like a woman repressed. I'd seen her in a different suit every day so far. Every single one showcased as much of her body as possible, an ever-changing wardrobe of thin straps, thongs, fancy slings, and even specialized lace. Bella was more than happy to copy her sister.
Draco had put himself firmly in denial of his mother's femininity. Thankfully, he had Svetlana here to distract him. And distract him, she did. Let's just say he walked everywhere on the island with a pronounced limp.
Compared to the rest of us sitting in beach chairs or laying on towels on the sand, Hermione stood out. She wasn't in normal clothes but she hadn't let herself relax freely either. That was most shown by the fact that she was still wearing a cover-up over her bikini. And the fact that she still had ink and quill nearby to scribble messages on her WWO parchment.
Luna came out of the water, draping herself over my bare shoulders. I pulled her around me to settle her in my lap. Clad in a tight white one-piece suit, she slotted into place perfectly there like always.
"Ready?" I asked, whispering in her ear.
"Mmmm~!" Luna hummed. "Operation Fuck Hermione Silly Until She Forgets About Britain is a go~!"
I chuckled, "Right, do you want to kick us off?"
Luna nodded, getting adorably serious for a moment, "I've got this."
She popped up from my lap. Almost instantly, she crouched as if going into stealth. Humming what sounded like a theme song under her breath, Luna crept across the sand. I tried to stifle my laughter.
Only Hermione didn't notice Luna's antics. The others smiled but didn't move to interfere. Suddenly, Luna popped up in front of Hermione and shouted.
"Sneak attack!"
She snatched the parchment from Hermione's hands and took off, running and giggling as she went. Hermione shot to her feet.
"Luna?! I need that! Give it back!" She tried to give chase.
I stopped her before she could, bodily picking Hermione up and swinging her onto my shoulder, "No, you don't need it, Hermione. What you need is to relax. So that's what we're going to do."
Hermione protested, "B-But-! The revolution! There's so much going on back home! I need to make sure it goes smoothly! The transition of power is the most important time in a successful revolution!"
"No," I said firmly. "You've been a very bad girl, worrying yourself while we're on vacation. The people back home have got this under control. Cedric's doing fine. They don't need you helicoptering from 2000 miles away."
"B-Bad girl…?" Hermione whimpered.
I smirked, knowing I'd gotten through to her fatal need for praise, "Yes, now let me and Luna show you how to be a good one again."
"… Okay," Hermione agreed in a very small voice.
"Luna!" I called. "You can come back now. She's agreed to give the parchment a rest."
There was no reply for a moment. Then Luna peeked her head around a tree at the tree line. I saw her grin even from a distance. She skipped back over to us, hopping into my other arm and hanging onto my free shoulder. I didn't even notice the added weight.
Turning back to the others to find them all smirking or chuckling, I made our excuses, "Sorry about that, everyone. I'll take care of our worrywart here."
"You can let me down now," Hermione tried as I began the short walk back to our bungalow.
"Nope~!" Luna singsonged. "Bad girls who can't relax on vacation don't get to walk themselves~!"
Hermione whimpered at the reminder of her 'bad girl' status at the moment. She hid her face in her hands.
"Don't worry," I reassured. "We'll make you a good girl again."
Once inside the bungalow, I still didn't set her down. Instead, I swung her off my shoulder and held her in front of me. My fingers sunk into the plush flesh of her thighs, holding her up so her eyes were level with mine. Her arms naturally encircled my neck and her legs, my waist. Luna maneuvered herself around onto my back like a monkey, unwilling to get down either.
"You did so well, Hermione," I praised.
Her eyes went wide and I continued, "Such a good job with the revolution and everything. I'm so proud of you. You're simply brilliant."
Her eyes lidded and fluttered. She whimpered, "A-Atlas~…"
"So you deserve a break. A vacation. That's what this is for. You don't need to worry about anything happening back in Britain. You don't need to know every little thing that goes right and wrong. You need to relax. Like a good girl~"
"I-I'm a good girl~…"
"Yes, you are. The goodest."
"And me~?" Luna chimed.
"Also a good girl. Just in a different way. You were willing to sacrifice some of your vacation to help Hermione relax. You'll get your reward as well," I answered.
"Me first!" Hermione was quick to assert.
"You first," I agreed. "Let's get your mind off those worries, yeah?"
"Y-Yes, please~" Hermione moaned.
I shrugged slightly, unfortunately dislodging Luna from my back. She was a good sport about it though, skipping over to our enormous bed to watch. Hermione gazed into my eyes, her anticipation and need readily apparent there.
I didn't even need to flex my magic to make my girls' clothes disappear anymore. Just a thought and they were gone, only to reappear folded neatly in the corner of the room. Hermione gasped, "Oh~!"
I pulled her tightly against me. Her chest smooshed against mine. My clothes disappeared in the same way as hers did.
Her legs interlocked behind my back. One of my hands was allowed to roam free. Her arms held on for dear life. I didn't let her drop an inch. A shuddering breath grazed my skin as she buried her head in my neck.
Hermione's masterpiece bum was squeezed and fondled by my questing hand. My fingers dipped lower, collecting sweet feminine dew as they went.
"So good for me~" I cooed. "My brilliant little Witch~ You even organized a whole revolution, overthrowing a corrupt Minister~ I couldn't be more proud of you~"
"I-I didn't do all that much…" Hermione demurred with a stutter.
"I disagree. You did more than anyone could have reasonably expected. You went above and beyond with your plans and organized cooperation not just between the Hogwarts Houses, but two other schools as well."
She whimpered, trying to muffle the noise with my neck. A flood graced my fingers down below. I stroked her petals, slowly and softly, coaxing her through her praise-induced orgasm.
Her arousal coated my erect cock. Slick, sweet, and deliciously hot, my shaft throbbed in the air. I lowered her just a touch, angling my hips. Her lips spread eagerly around my tip. A touch further. She began to part around me.
A high, keening whine of pleasure escaped her lungs. Slow and steady, I lowered her onto me. She split, she stretched, she surrendered to my steely desire.
My cock pierced deep, kissing her core. Her walls fluttered around me. She gushed, both from her lower lips and the ones above.
"Oh oh oh~! Atlas~! Yes~! Praise me~! Praise me more~! I'm a good girl~! I did good~! Praise me~!"
I did, "So good~ You feel absolutely sublime, Hermione~ Look how easily you take me now~ Can you feel it~? My heart beating inside you~?"
"Yes~! Yes yes yes yes yesssss~!" Hermione screamed and came again on a hair trigger.
I pulled her down all the way, hilting myself inside her. Hermione's limbs tensed and locked around me. One moment. Two. Her whole body shook with ecstasy. She clenched around me, trying her best to suck the seed from my balls.
"Good Merlin's motherfucking tendencies~!" I groaned.
"I-… believe Merlin was an aunt-fucker as well," Hermione panted in reply.
I laughed as I pulled out of her pussy, "Oh yeah? Is that something you've been researching?"
Hermione blushed, "History is interesting…"
"You'll find no denial there from me," I smirked.
My hands gripped her thighs as handholds to raise her off my cock. The lips of her pussy gripped me in return. A long wet slurp sounded as I left her quim, only to be replaced by a moaning gasp as I thrust back in.
My hips fucked into her from below. Her ass rippled, her tits bounced, and her head fell back. Eyes closed, Hermione made her pleasure known with whines and whimpers.
Even more praise poured from my lips. I fucked her hard. My cock reached deep. Her depths swallowed me eagerly. Clenching and quivering, her insides were set alight with pleasure. Every movement around me made my core pulse and my cock throb.
Thrust after thrust molded her into the perfect shape for me. She stretched and squeezed. Orgasms wracked her body, only causing her to cling to me even tighter. She wrapped around me completely. I split her open the same way.
Practically sobbing, it soon grew to be too much for her, "Ah~! Atlas~! Please please~? Too much~! I cannn'ttttt~!"
"You can take it~" I rasped. "You can take it. Because you're just that good~"
"Perfect~"
"Brilliant~"
I punctuated each compliment with a thrust, "Stunning and amazing beyond belief~"
"I'm a gooooddd~ giiiirrlllll~!" Hermione screamed.
The peak of ecstasy slammed into her. Hard. She was struck by bliss like lightning. Her whole body went stiff. She clamped down so hard I couldn't move.
Her eyes rolled back in her head. Her tongue lolled out in a fucked-silly expression. The climax hit her so hard that her brain couldn't keep up. Her words failed her. All that was left was a breathless scream that declared her ecstasy to the whole island.
Hermione's body went limp as she passed out. She twitched in her mind-numbing bliss. Insensate and satisfied, only unconscious whimpers escaped her lips.
I walked over to the bed and set her down. Still throbbing fiercely, I tried to pull out of her gripping pussy. Her limbs held me tightly, even without her mind to direct them. Chuckling, I wiggled out from her grasp. Hermione gasped and panted in her sleep, curling around the pillow I used to make my escape.
Standing there, hard as steel, I watched her fondly as tremors wracked her body. A pair of lips closed around my cock. I jumped slightly, having momentarily forgotten about Luna. She looked up at me with excited eyes.
Pulling back slightly to speak, Luna said matter-of-factly, "Good reward. She won't be thinking about Britain anytime soon."
"And now you want yours?" I smirked knowingly.
Luna nodded, "Of course. You promised, after all."
I chuckled, "I did, at that."
"You did~!" Luna agreed, her smile lighting up the room.
She dove back forward, taking most of my cock with a single swallow. I groaned. She'd gotten so much better at this since her first time.
She licked and lapped and lavished my cock with her tongue. Her cheeks were soft, her lips softer. Her mouth was wet and warm. Her throat swallowed around me, sucking me deeper.
Luna didn't mind the taste of Hermione on my cock. If anything, she seemed to like it more this way. She hummed, throat vibrating around my shaft. She took me deep, cleaning every inch along the way.
She drew back and nodded, satisfied with her handiwork. My hands twitched. I wanted to pull her back onto my cock so badly. I felt myself throb at the idea. Still, I resisted.
Luna looked up at me, "Up~! Up~!"
Chuckling, I complied, scooping Luna up and settling her into a position similar to Hermione's previous one. She wiggled in my arms. She was so light, so small, such a perfect fit. Her petite body molded itself to mine.
She giggled, "Now, down~! Down~!"
Picking up on what she wanted, I sat down on the bed. My cock slid into her as I did, so naturally, so easily. She slotted perfectly into my lap.
Wiggling her hips slightly, she ground my cock inside her. I could swear I saw a hint of my cock inside her from her stomach. She moaned and giggled, wiggling her hips some more. Yep, that was me making that slight bulge.
"Too much?" I asked, just to check.
"Mmm~!" Luna hummed and shook her head. "Nope~! Perfect fit~!"
"You sure?"
"Yep~! See, you can stretch me like this~… and like this~… And-! Oh~! Yes~! Right there~!"
She moved as she spoke. My cock stretched her this way and that until she found a particularly good position. Then she stopped and raised herself up to push herself directly back down again.
She hammered herself down on the spot I ended up poking. She moaned her pleasure like the most wanton of whores. Her eyes fluttered. She did it again. It quickly became apparent that she was more than comfortable in this position.
Chuckling, I took ahold of her waist. My hands encircled it, almost touching again around it. I felt her core tense and twitch beneath my fingers.
Luna paused, "… Can you summon your cowboy hat?"
I blinked at the strange request, "I… can. Why?"
Luna grinned, "I've always wanted to ride a cowboy~!"
I laughed, "Save a horse, ride a cowboy?"
She nodded eagerly, "And I have the best cowboy east of the Mississipi~!"
IIIII
Heather stalked the island, looking for her prey. The vacation had been fun so far. Exactly what she needed, really. A chance to relax, play, and bond with her new family.
And when she got bored - which didn't happen often -, she could always turn back to pranks! Sirius was too busy chasing after Phoebe Parkinson to help at the moment. Not that Heather blamed him. But that just meant she was alone for her pranks. Nothing particularly new for the Girl-Who-Won.
Heather found her target in the island's hot spring. Heh, how ironic, Heather snickered to herself. The Ice Queen in the Hot Spring. And with Heather's planned prank, that icy mask would soon be melting.
Atlas was with her but that wouldn't stop Heather. She was only planning on targeting Daphne. And what better way to enjoy a melted Ice Queen than to watch like a voyeur as her facial expressions fall apart atop Atlas' cock.
Heather picked a rock to hide behind. She wiggled out of her swimsuit bottoms in preparation - practically all she ever wore nowadays. She took aim. She held back her devious giggles.
"Ahegao Maximum," She whisper-cast.
Invisible to the naked eye, the spell hit Daphne. She twitched but otherwise didn't react. Atlas did, however. He instantly locked onto Heather's hiding place, spotting her and raising an eyebrow. Heather grinned back at him and spread her legs, giving him a tantalizing bit of encouragement to stay quiet.
Atlas didn't out her immediately, partly because the view was so nice and partly because he knew she would never purposefully harm anyone in the coven. Still, his magic swept over Daphne discreetly, checking for what Heather's spell did.
That precaution quickly proved unnecessary. Daphne's face split into the widest smile either of them had ever seen. Pure joy and excitement that could have rivaled Luna at her best radiated from the 'Ice Queen'.
Every time she and Atlas had the chance to come together like this, she was this happy. Now, she could finally show it, even if she didn't realize the change just yet.
Atlas was stunned by the intensity of her expression. Heather grinned, settling in for the show of a lifetime. Daphne pushed her betrothed down in the hot spring. She mounted him, her smile never wavering at all.
"So~ Atlas~," Daphne purred. "It seems we're finally alone again~"
Still slightly stunned, Atlas said, "… Yes. Yes, it does."
"What's wrong?" She asked, seeing his odd reaction.
"Your face… No, your expression," Atlas tried to explain.
Daphne rolled her eyes while smiling brightly, "Yes, I realize it isn't the most expressive of faces. What of it? You should know that already."
"Daphne, you're smiling," Atlas said.
"What?" Daphne's eyes widened, her mouth dropping open in shock.
"It's beautiful."
Daphne's smile returned. She reached for her face, feeling it in awe as her expression did a complete 180 from its usual icy mask. Her smile lit up her whole face. Her cheeks hurt.
She rolled with the change very well, "Good. Now, I can show you exactly how I feel every time we're together."
"I can always tell, Daph," Atlas reassured.
Daphne rolled her eyes, "Yes, but now you'll actually see it. Plus, I want to see your reactions to my reactions~"
Purring her intentions, Daphne dropped herself onto Atlas' exposed cock. After all, what was the point of a hot spring if you wore a bathing suit?
He sunk into her to the base. Daphne's eyes fluttered. They practically rolled back in her head. She moaned freely. A melodic voice graced Atlas' ears as he was fully engulfed by goth heaven.
Daphne rolled her hips. Every sensation played out on her face. She sang her pleasure for him in humming moans and little gasps. Atlas watched in silence, struck speechless by the beauty of the scene.
Dark hair shrouded her face like a halo. Soft lips painted black by magic quirked and twitched with each roll of her hips. They parted breathlessly, heralding more whispers of ecstasy every time they opened.
Her face was flush with color and life. There wasn't a trace of ice to be seen. Her eyes lit up with pleasure and love. They fluttered closed. They opened wide to stare into his soul. They were vessels for her every emotion.
Her inner walls squeezed and clenched. Her lower lips drooled, coating Atlas' entire shaft. She was so hot and tight, practically scalding and choking every inch of his cock.
Atlas throbbed within her. He was as hard as he'd ever been. He sat back and watched as Daphne put herself on display for him. It was a performance that could have matched the best actresses but Daphne was completely genuine.
This was how she always felt. Her emotions lit her up from the inside. Usually, that's where they stayed. Now, they poured forth from her as freely as her arousal did. She wouldn't waste this chance to tell Atlas exactly how she felt when they were together.
Laid bare and loving it, Daphne began to fuck herself upon Atlas' shaft. Every thrust made her body shake and jiggle. Every thrust made her mouth fall open with another loud moan. Every thrust made her eyes flutter and roll back.
He struck deep, all the way inside her. When his cock left, she craved that oh-so-full feeling, pushing herself back down on the steely rod as soon as she could.
Her lower lips stretched around him. Her core pulsed for him. Her whole body glowed with sensation. Daphne was so full, so empty, and so full again and again.
She threw her head back from the intensity of it all. Atlas grabbed her chin and directed her face right back into his sight to enjoy the scene playing out there. Daphne blushed. She smiled. She wanted him to watch.
Soon enough, the water of the hot spring prevented Daphne from going any faster. Atlas stood, taking her with him. He laid her down on the rock nearby, making the position comfortable with a wandless Cushioning Charm.
He took over. Their bodies came together over and over again. Slapping skin, tender flesh, and blazing passion. He fucked her deep. He fucked her hard. Daphne's expression betrayed every ounce of bliss she felt.
When she came, her eyes crossed in pleasure. Her mouth fell open. Her tongue lolled out. A perfect gothic ahegao. All that was missing was the peace signs.
Atlas buried himself deep. He groaned, filling her completely. His cock throbbed. His balls clenched. He thrust through her gripping tightness.
His seed flooded her depths. Sparks went off in Daphne's brain, washing it as white as her insides. Atlas wasn't far behind. Still, he never took his eyes off her face.
Her expression grew even more fucked-silly, drool dripping from her tongue. Her legs wrapped around him, locking him in place. He didn't want to leave anyway.
They came together. They came down together. As they did, Heather's spell began to wear off. Daphne's fucked-silly ahegao - masterpiece that it was - slowly disappeared from the world.
The ice returned to her expression. Once more, the Ice Queen stared back at Atlas. He could still see the usual hints he'd grown used to. See the cracks in that icy mask that showed what was always beneath.
"Well," Daphne's usual monotone had returned as well. "That was fun."
Atlas agreed, "It was. Maybe you'd like to thank the Witch responsible."
"What do you-… Potter," Daphne's expression somehow got even flatter.
"Got it in one," Atlas nodded. "Heather? Wanna come out here?"
The Girl-Who-Won stuck her head out from behind her rocky hiding place. She grinned sheepishly at the pair. Atlas beckoned her over. Heather came (again but in a different way).
Atlas pulled himself upright and Daphne propped herself up on her elbows, "So, Potter… Anything you'd like to tell me."
Heather smirked, insufferably smug now that she was in front of them, "Yeah, you're welcome."
Daphne raised an eyebrow, "Welcome? Why would I thank you?"
Heather gaped at her, "But you said yourself that it was a good thing!"
"You still hit me with what I assume was an untested spell and interrupted my alone time with Atlas."
"I tested it… On myself…"
"And why would I thank you for doing something as foolish as that?"
"Heather," Atlas said, disappointed. "We've talked about this. No testing pranks - especially not unknown spells - on yourself. Conjure a lab animal or test them on Sirius."
"He was busy chasing Phoebe's skirt," Heather whined.
"I think she's earned herself a bit of punishment," Daphne suggested.
Heather perked up at that idea. Atlas waved his hand dismissively, "She'll just enjoy it, the pervert."
"Aak~!" Heather playfully reacted as if she'd been struck by Atlas' words.
"Good, then this can be her reward as well as her punishment. She still gave me the opportunity to show my emotions to you, after all."
Atlas looked at Heather consideringly, "So what do you think? Her usual? Or do you have something special in mind?"
Heather grinned, practically vibrating with excitement at the prospect of 'punishment'. Still, she wouldn't make it easy for them, "You'll never take me alive~!"
Before she could even begin the chase - her favorite form of foreplay -, Atlas caught her. A limb of pure magic rocketed forth from him, grabbing Heather by her ankles and holding her off the ground. She was brought in front of the pair as Atlas plotted her punishment.
She was still grinning, "Oh no~! You seem to have caught me. Whatever will you do with me now~?"
Daphne got on her tiptoes and Atlas leaned down so she could whisper something in his ear. He nodded at whatever she suggested, leaving Heather in the dark. Heather felt the excitement inside her double and bubble.
She barely had time to process what happened next. One moment, she was in the air. The next, she was cumming her brains out from… something Atlas did.
"Now, we should be ready to begin," Atlas nodded, satisfied with whatever he'd done.
"Before we even started, Potter? For shame," Daphne deadpanned.
Heather's whole body tingled with electricity and pleasure. She panted, "Y-You'll have to do better than that! Whatever that was!"
"Heather, allow me to introduce you to your new best friend. This fox-tailed butt plug. I felt it was appropriate for some reason~," Atlas rumbled through an amused smirk. "And now, your actual punishment. Count the spanks with me."
"O-One~!" Heather came again on the first stroke of Atlas' palm - a gentle caress, really.
Atlas laughed - Laughed! The bastard! -, "No, Heather, that was just me touching your bum. Ready for the first spanking?"
Heather bit her lip. She nodded. The pressure in her bum was so new, so different. It was playing havoc on her nerves in the best of ways. She couldn't wait to feel what actually being spanked was like~!
"Onnneeee~!" On the first actual spanking, Heather squirted her foxy brains out…
IIIII
"Un mating press~?!?! Noooooooooo~!" Fleur cried. "Y-You can't~! I will come apaaarrrtttt~!"
"Come now, Fleur~," Gabrielle teased. "Surely, you can resist this Devil's attention~ You're strong, aren't you~?"
"Strong~! I am so strong~!" Fleur moaned. "He is stronger~! So much stronger~! Before him, I am laid weak~!"
"That's because you are his, Sister~" Gabrielle purred.
"His~? Oh~! Oh no~! I-It cannot be~!" Fleur quickly changed her tune as a particularly hard thrust brought her over the edge. "His~! Yessss~!"
"There is no shame in losing to Mon Ange, Sister~ It is simply in your nature~ Your heart, your mind, your body, and soul belong to him~" Gabrielle soothed.
Fleur's feet kicked futilely and she slurred her words as one orgasm transitioned into another consecutive one, "Nooouuuuuuu~! Plwease~? S-Spare me~? Save me~? Toooouu musshhhh~! I can'tsh keep looooossssiinngg~!"
Gabrielle whispered in her ear like a silver-tongued devil, "Surrender, Fleur~ Give yourself over to his love~"
"I alreadyyyy havvveeee~!" Fleur screamed utter ecstasy to the heavens.
Her legs were on my shoulders, kicking desperately. Her toes curled by my ears. Her arms hugged me tight, pressing her even further into the mating press position. Her expression was as silly and dramatic as her words.
My hips thrust like a piston. My cock cored her pussy, stretching it as it clung to me. Passionate heat consumed us. Her pussy burned and fluttered around me. She felt more amazing than I could put into words.
I pressed her down into the sand. She'd insisted on tempting me on the beach. Gabrielle had joined her. Together, they pushed me until I was forced into action, forced to fuck the sense out of Fleur for her 'insults'.
As much as I loved her usual theatrics, this was the most fun part of our games. The part where Fleur got what was coming to her. The part where she broke down and 'lost'.
Our passions boiled over. The rest of the world faded away. Man and Veela, we did what came naturally. Of course, with Fleur 'what came naturally' was turned up to 15.
She lost her mind to passion and pleasure. I drove her mad with heavy thrusts and relentless attention. Gabrielle pushed her further into 'insanity'. Cock and quim, we fit together perfectly.
I grunted through my thrusts, "Oh? You love me, Fleur?"
Even as she came and squirted around my cock, Fleur swooned dramatically, "N-Nooooo~! Naaayyyyy~! Love is not enough~! My feelings burn as bright as the sun~! Oh, this devilish Rogue beats beside my heart in my chest~! With him inside me, I am whole~!"
"Mmm~" Gabrielle hummed and leaned down to kiss her sister on the cheek. "I appreciate that you can finally be honest with yourself, Fleur."
"I-I am always h-honest~!" Fleur stuttered out a blatant lie.
That brought me up short of my next thrust. My eyes met Gabrielle's in disbelief. She giggled at the ridiculousness of Fleur's lie. I couldn't help but start laughing too.
Fleur whined, "Noooo~ Please, don't stop~?"
I chuckled, "Who am I to say no to such an honest maiden?"
My hips started moving again and Fleur slurred, "Yeeeeessssshhhhh~!"
Her body quaked. Her core quivered. Her walls fluttered tightly around me. Despite the short break, Fleur was quickly pushed past the edge of orgasm again. And again.
Gabrielle kissed my neck, mumbling temptations into my skin, "Yes, Mon Ange~ Show her your love~ But save some for me~ I wish to see the same heights of mad passion as my dear sister~"
Fleur sang like a songbird as she came apart at the seams, "F-Fiend~! Devil~! I can feel all of you~! Yes~! Don't show me mercy~! Drive me past the point of no return~! Yeeeesssss~! I love you, you u-utter beast~!"
IIIII
"What're you up to, Cissy?" Bella asked perkily.
"Writing a letter. Nothing to concern yourself with, Bella," Narcissa answered.
"To who? What does it say?"
"Again, nothing for you to concern yourself with."
Staving off her sister's questions, Narcissa sealed her letter. She clicked her tongue. Like magic, a powerful Harpy Eagle swooped onto their table on the beach. Fluffing itself imperiously, it stuck its leg out for Narcissa. She attached the letter and sent it off to do its mission.
Instead of taking off again, the eagle turned and hopped across the table to Atlas. It stuck its leg out again, cawing to get his attention. Narcissa acted as if nothing unusual was happening, simply cleaning up her writing supplies as the rest of the table looked at her in askance.
Eventually, Atlas gave up, taking the letter from the eagle to read. The eagle flew off with a mighty flap to continue its hunt. Confused more than anything else, Atlas began to read the letter silently. Bella popped over to him to read over his shoulder.
As they read, Bella giggled and Atlas sighed, "Narcissa? Was this really necessary?"
"I'm sure whatever you're referring to - not that I would know considering it's a private letter - was, in fact, necessary," Narcissa said, unphased by his exasperated tone.
"How officially lewd, Cissy~" Bella teased.
Narcissa kept up her charade easily, "Oh? Does the letter concern me somehow?"
"It does," Altas admitted, saying nothing more as he finished the letter.
"We just watched you write it, Auntie," Tonks said incredulously.
"It's a strange prank but I can't help but feel it fits Cissy," Sirius commented.
"I'm sure it was just official family business, dear," Phoebe reassured the man she was becoming quite fond of.
"Do you want to do this here or somewhere more private?" Atlas asked Narcissa.
Narcissa shrugged, playing unconcerned, "We're all family here. I'm sure you can take care of this private letter however you wish."
"Right… Holding hands during the act?" Atlas tested Narcissa's cool with a tidbit from the letter.
"What…?" Tonks asked, confused. Narcissa was unmoved by Atlas' test.
Andromeda sighed, "I believe I know what is going on."
"Go on," Narcissa said with indifference.
Atlas pushed further, "Holding hands, eye contact, romantic missionary and mating press…?"
"Those all sound like perfectly reasonable requests to me. Whoever wrote the letter must know what she want," Narcissa commented almost absently.
"There's a whole formal form for me to fill out here, Narcissa," Atlas let amused exasperation show in his voice. "You seem to have already done your half. All of those boxes are checked, along with a request for me to yell 'Get pregnant!' and another that says we have to repeat the process until 'proof of impregnation' has been provided."
"Aaaaannnd that's me out," Draco said, getting up from the Black Family Breakfast table.
"Yes, I am feeling rather… randy now as well, Little Dragon," Svetlana followed. "Shall we put your mother's genius to good practice~?"
"I-… Meep~!" Draco never got a chance to protest. Svetlana scooped him into her arms in a bridal carry. She quickly made their exit for him, beelining straight for their cabin on the edge of the beach.
"What a woman…" Sirius marveled.
"Amelia gets first dibs. Otherwise, we would be doing the same," Phoebe shared. Sirius quite literally started panting like a dog at that information.
"Grandbabies as well. How fortunate," Narcissa was utterly unconcerned by her son's kidnapping. "Now, back to this request from an unknown widow who wishes to be a mother again and wishes to enjoy the process this time…"
"Oh! I can join! We can make it a Black Sister Orgy!" Bella suggested.
Andromeda shook her head, refusing outright, "I'm quite happy with just Ted. But I'm sure Nymphadora could take my place easily."
"W-Wha-? Mum?!" Tonks sputtered at the 'betrayal'.
"Nymphadora dear," Andromeda lectured sternly. "You're perfect for the role. And don't pretend me ignorant of what my own daughter really wants. Don't worry about the incest. It seems to be a rite of passage in our family."
Bella pouted slightly, "It's not completely ideal but I suppose Tonksie can take on your form, 'Dromeda."
Sirius sniffled dramatically, "I-I'm so proud. The son surpasses his father."
"So are you going to honor the request?" Narcissa asked intently while still trying to pretend she wasn't concerned with the answer. "Everything seems to be in order. Whoever is responsible for this appears to know what she's doing and what she wants. It would be practically criminal to refuse."
Atlas sighed as Narcissa danced around the fact that the letter came almost directly from her hands into his, "Yes, Narcissa. I will honor the request."
Then a bit of mischief crept into his eyes, "Bella's as well."
Bella squealed in excitement, hopping in place. Tonks squeaked, turning bright, bright pink before she could hide her face. Narcissa nodded, "Very well. I will see that all of the important things are taken care of for you."
"We'll help!" Bella cut in. "C'mon, Tonksie! We have to prepare for the Black Family Orgy!"
"Definitely won't be the first time someone in this family used that title for a family event," Atlas muttered to himself under his breath.
IIIII
"I will go first," Narcissa said firmly, hiding the tiniest bit of nerves. "And last as well. To ensure this… process… takes. I'm not sure how my name ended up next to yours on the Breeding Request Form, Atlas. But I suppose I'll take advantage of the chance provided to me."
"Yes, how indeed…" Atlas' deadpan turned into a smirk. "It's a miracle."
Narcissa coughed elegantly into her fist to hide the pink that reached her cheeks, "Yes, a miracle… Shall we begin?"
Atlas smiled at her, "Sure. You wanted a bit of romance, right?"
"The request did," Narcissa 'corrected'.
Atlas nodded graciously, "Of course. It's solely the request's idea that I gaze deep into your eyes, hold your hands, kiss you sweetly, and breed the absolute fuck out of you."
"O-Oh my…" Narcissa stuttered, breathless.
"Oh my!" Bella exclaimed in excitement.
"Oh m-…" Tonks began to say before shaking herself out of the cycle. "Damn, Atlas doesn't play about, does he?"
"You'll find that out for yourself soon enough, Tonksie~" Bella leered lewdly.
"Not sure I'm ready for that," Tonks nervously admitted.
"That's okay, Tonksie~ I'll help you get ready for my baby boy's thick~ hard~ perfect~ cock~" Bella cooed.
"M-Meep!" Tonks' face went red, then pink, then yellow. Her hair followed along. Her figure shimmered slightly. For a moment, her breasts grew, her waist narrowed, and her hips bloomed. Then she went back to normal.
"H-He's not going to make me show my true form, is he?" Tonks asked.
"This is your true form. You're a Metamorphmagus, Tonksie," Bella reassured. "Your true form is whatever you want it to be. But I can guarantee Atlas won't force you to do anything you don't want to do. Now, let's see if Auntie Bella can't get you all revved up~!"
Tonks' squeal of surprise transitioned into a breathy moan. For Narcissa and Atlas, however, the noises faded into the background.
Atlas gazed into Narcissa's eyes. He saw her anxiety, slight though it may be. He saw her desire, for him and for the new life they would make together. He saw her hopes and dreams.
"Ready to be a mother again?" Atlas asked.
Narcissa couldn't find the words. She just nodded. Atlas took her hands, interlocking their fingers. Narcissa swallowed hard. She couldn't look away.
Atlas leaned in. Her eyes drifted shut. Their lips touched and her world exploded. Those hopes and dreams for a second child latched onto the kiss like a lifeline. She squeezed Atlas' hand, leaning hard into his lips.
Narcissa was floating. Literally. Atlas had swept her off her feet at some point. He gently laid her down on the bed. Their clothes disappeared. She was too lost in the kiss to truly care or notice.
When she was just a girl, Narcissa held out hope for love. A love she would share with her future husband. Then she married Lucius and none of those hopes panned out.
But here and now? She revived those hopes and directed them toward Atlas. He couldn't love her completely. That was okay. She was mostly just using him to live the loving life she'd always dreamed of.
She wrapped herself around his body. She held him close to her breast. She kissed him like a schoolgirl with a crush. That childish romantic optimism she'd lost stirred as he matched her in enthusiasm and passion.
Before she knew what was happening, Atlas was inside her. He slid in deep. He stretched her pleasantly. She gasped into their kiss. He slipped his tongue between her lips. Narcissa moaned and melted.
Their hips rolled together. Not a single inch separated them. Atlas pushed forward, strong as steel. Narcissa felt herself molded around him, easily and eagerly.
She never broke the kiss. She needed it as much as she needed him inside her. Maybe more. It was loving. It was warm with affection and desire. It was everything she'd been starved of for more than 16 years of marriage.
He moved slowly, gently, allowing her to adjust to his size. He was certainly bigger than Lucius ever was. Not that Narcissa got many chances to test that throughout their loveless marriage. She pushed the thoughts of her foolishly late husband from her mind.
She felt him throb within her depths. His speed increased. Narcissa moaned into his mouth. She sucked on his tongue as her pussy sucked in his cock.
Her legs locked behind Atlas' back, giving him no chance to escape. Her clit ground against the top of his thick shaft as it sawed in and out of her.
Something deep in her core pulsed and pulsed with each thrust. It was so close. So close. She'd timed this perfectly. Of that, Narcissa was sure.
Her egg was ready and waiting. Her womb was fertile. She could practically feel the life-giving seed churning in Atlas' balls as they slapped against her bum. Atlas was so close to giving her everything she wanted.
She whimpered as he sped up even further. Her body was laid open for him. His for the taking. She was putting her trust and hopes in him. And so far, he wasn't letting her down at all.
Narcissa whined as her legs came unlocked from behind his back. She almost broke their continued kiss to protest. Then Atlas took hold of her legs and folded them up onto his shoulders.
Narcissa's heart skipped. Her body shuddered. Her womb throbbed in her stomach. Atlas practically bent her in half. Narcissa had never felt so horny - so ready and primed - for something in her life.
She wasn't the most flexible Witch. But she managed. This was what she wanted. A proper mating press. Atlas fucked down into her. His thrusts felt as if they knocked her eggs loose in her womb. She gushed around him. She took everything he had to give.
Finally, Narcissa broke their kiss to come up for air and gasp, "Yes~! Yes~! Breed me~! Breed, breed, breed, breeeeed meeeeee~!"
Atlas growled something low and primal in his chest, "Get pregnant~!"
Narcissa's body went stiff. She felt her every muscle tense. She began to cum on his cock. Thankfully, he didn't lag behind. He came, exploding into her depths. Narcissa's head fell back and she screamed.
Her legs shook on his shoulders. Her womb was flooded with sweet, delicious warmth. Atlas buried himself inside her. Rope after rope of virile seed rushed for Narcissa's eggs. Bliss, pure bliss bubbled up inside her with every spurt of his throbbing cock.
Narcissa smiled up at him as they both basked in the afterglow of their breeding orgasms, "Thank you, Atlas. Feel free to go take care of Tonks now. I believe that should be enough until our next session."
"Fingers crossed, yeah?" Atlas leaned down to plant one last peck on her lips.
When he pulled out, one of Narcissa's hands was immediately there to keep his important 'deposit' inside of her. She conjured a pillow and set it under her hips as well. Then she laid back with a happy sigh and a silly smile on her face. Her other hand rubbed her abdomen as if she could feel what was happening inside her womb.
Panting slightly, Atlas turned to find Tonks so she could get her turn with him. He was immediately brought up short. Hard and throbbing in front of him as he turned, Atlas' cock ran straight into Tonks' tummy.
Tonks stood in front of him, blushing fiercely. Bella supported her from behind, having to wrap her arms around her niece to keep her shaking knees from giving out there and then. She whispered something in Tonks' ear, encouraging her. Tonks took a deep breath to fortify her nerves.
Atlas paused, taking in the scene before him. Tonks had shifted her form with her Metamorphmagus powers. Then it seemed that Bella had transfigured her clothes into something more seductive.
Tonks' usual punkish look was almost nowhere to be found. Not completely. There were still traces of her usual look in her facial features but most of her new look was fresh and carefully tailored to drive Atlas mad with lust.
Her short pink hair was gone, replaced with flowing black curtains of silk. It was straight and styled perfectly, seemingly without effort on Tonks' part. Her eyes were blue and her lips were a vibrant, eye-catching pink.
She wore a cliche-looking Witch's hat on her head. Wide-brimmed and droopy, it would have looked more at home on a Halloween costume. On her neck, she wore a decorative collar that was completely connected to her dress.
The dress itself hugged her new figure, looking as if it was painted on. Her breasts were bigger. Much bigger. Full cups of gravity-defying perkiness. A bit of side boob spilled out from around the edges of the dress.
Below, the dress transitioned into something that almost looked like a loincloth. Flaps of fabric only covered her crotch and the middle of her bum. The generous swell of her hips was left almost completely exposed, crisscrossed with enticing strappy strings that dipped below the dress and were tied into bows on either side of her waist. Plump thighs spilled pleasantly over tight nylon thigh-highs. Elbow-high gloves covered her forearms and hands.
Gathering her courage, Tonks tried for a sultry grin, "Y-You like it, Atlas~?"
Atlas nodded, "I do. It suits you well. Just as well as your normal look. Both are good. Yes, both."
The matter-of-fact way he stated his appreciation caused another blush to spread across Tonks' cheeks but she pushed on with her 'seduction', "Y-Yeah~? Well, how about I give you a little taste of what a Metamorph can do for a man like you~?"
Atlas' eyes flicked up to Bella's for the briefest of moments. Before Tonks could react, he was acting on whatever he saw there.
She squeaked as he took her by the hand and spun her into him like a dancer. Her hands landed on his chest. She looked up into his eyes with surprise in hers. He cupped her chin. Her lip quivered, her eyes going even wider. Slowly, he dipped his head down and brought her lips up to meet his.
Tonks' eyes fluttered shut. She moaned into the kiss. She'd been kissed before. It had never felt like this. Gently and firmly at the same time, Atlas dominated her lips with sensuous kisses. Tonks felt herself begin to melt.
Arousal dripped from her core like a river from a glacier. Warmth and Heat pooled below her belly. She found herself defenseless, completely at Atlas' mercy.
She was slow to realize when he broke the kiss. Her lips moved against thin air for a moment. Then her brain caught up to reality. Her face flushed with color.
She found herself spun again and pushed over the edge of the bed before she could protest. A pillow was dragged under her, propping up her hips perfectly. The bows at her hips were untied in a flash. Her dress was pushed up over her waist. Tonks froze.
She muttered in realization, "Oh no… Someone cooked here…"
A solid, thick, burning-hot, shaft spread her open. Thoroughly, completely, in a single continuous thrust that pierced to her core with ease. She didn't even realize how wet she was, how ready she was for Atlas to fuck her.
Tonks' eyes crossed. He fit perfectly, stretching her just right. The pillow beneath her hips gave him the right angle to drag his cockhead across her most sensitive spots. Her legs quivered, her pussy fluttered, and her G-spot was practically ground to dust.
She gasped as he seated himself fully within her. Despite the mind-numbing pleasure, Tonks still tried to play strong, "Ah~! C-Careful there, big guy~ G-Guess you couldn't resist someone like me, huh~?"
Atlas ignored her bluff, drawing himself out from her depths. Tonks groaned. Her head bowed into the bedsheets. She couldn't stop her hips from chasing his unconsciously. He held her in place by her wide breeding hips.
Tonks thought she was ready. Anything Atlas could throw at her, she thought she could take it. Then he pushed forward with his second thrust. Tonks felt her brain try and dribble out her ear. She melted like ice before a fire.
"F-Fuuuuuuuucccckkkkk~!" Tonks groaned.
Atlas didn't stop to give her a chance to recollect herself. He never stopped. And Tonks wished he never would.
His cock struck deep. It stretched her wide. He was so hard, so solid inside her. Her hips bucked against the pillow under his thrusts. Her nerves ran wild with sensation. Tonks felt like she was melting over and over again every time their bodies came together.
Her senses blurred. Her mind crackled and popped like a flickering flame. Her body rippled, both naturally from his thrusts and magically as she struggled to hold her current form.
For the briefest of moments, Tonks shifted. She would look like a younger copy of Bella with short hair. Then she shifted back to her preferred form for seduction.
Atlas felt her shifting around him, her insides coiling and quivering on his cock. He bent over her back as he thrust, engulfing her body completely beneath his. His arms boxed her in on either side of her head. She grabbed them, desperate for anything to hold onto.
"Any form you want, Tonks~ You're sexy no matter what~ Merlin, you're fucking sexy~" Atlas rumbled next to her ear.
Tonks gasped in pleasure. Her form shifted again. Bella, Heather, Daphne, Fleur, one for each of Atlas' girls. Atlas fucked her just as hard, just as passionately in every form.
She tried someone he didn't know. His pace and passion never changed. He never wavered or faltered. Tonks whimpered in realization, shifting back to her first form. He fucked her the same, no matter what form she took. It was her he was fucking, not whoever she turned into or the novelty of what her powers could do.
The thought made Tonks weak. Soft. Maleable. She was melting beneath him. Every thrust molded her body around him. They stoked a fire that burned her from the inside out. Tonks came, her mind dissolving into ecstasy.
Atlas' pace never ceased or slowed. Tonks came again, immediately after the first. She was strung along on a path of pleasure, leading higher and higher with each climax.
Her muscles, her whole body felt as if it was liquid. She could barely twitch a finger on purpose. Still, her body pushed back into Atlas unconsciously.
He buried himself inside her. She felt his chest shudder with his groan. It sent shocks of bliss through her. Then he was filling her even more than she thought possible. Warmth flooded her depths. Tonks gasped as she came for the final time with him.
They lay there like that for what felt like an eternity. So comfortable. So warm. So full. So melty~! Tonks felt like she couldn't have moved even if she wanted to.
Her defenses were gone, her confidence beaten in the most amazing way. "Oh Lord," She realized with a whimper. "He's going to bully me about this forever~"
"Mommy's turn~!" Bella chimed on the edge of Tonks' awareness.
She barely noticed. She did notice when Atlas was removed from around her. She whined, reaching for anything to fill the void.
Conveniently, Narcissa was there, feeling particularly motherly at the moment. Tonks latched on and Narcissa held her niece fondly.
Neither of them paid much mind to the commotion Bella and Atlas were causing or Bella's screams of ecstasy. They were content enough for now. Tonks melted into unconsciousness not long after. Narcissa cooed softly, still rubbing the spot over her womb and now hoping for a daughter this time.
IIIII
I was trapped. Trapped by a little, loveable blonde gremlin. Surprisingly, it wasn't Luna this time. I was being cornered by Astoria. She boxed me in with a wide, perky smile on her face.
With her hands on her hips in a grand pose, Astoria declared, "It's my birthday!"
"I know. We're throwing a party for you in a couple of hours," I said.
Her momentum faltered slightly as I didn't react how she'd expected, "W-Well… It's my birthday!"
"You said that already, Astoria."
"Quiet! I'm not finished! It's my birthday and that means that, for today, you have to treat me like a princess!"
"How is that different from how I always treat you?"
Astoria giggled and blushed at that reminder, "Well, today it's official."
"Of course," I nodded. "That does make a big difference."
"It does, doesn't it?" Astoria beamed a bright smile at me. "So since it makes a big difference and since it's my birthday and since Daphne isn't here to disapprove right this second and since Mother and Daddy gave me permission…"
She paused her ramble for dramatic effect, continuing in barely a whisper, "… You're going to… lewd me."
I blinked and mimed clearing my ears, "I'm sorry. Do you mind repeating that? I know I can't have heard you correctly."
Astoria gathered back her courage to shout, "You're going to lewd me! Lewd! Lewdy Lewdy Lewd! All the stops, Mister! I'm going to s-suck you… and you're going to f-f-fuck me! And you have to because it's my birthday and I'm the birthday princess and I'm not too young anymore!"
I stared at her silently for a few moments, trying to process all of that. I suppose she was right about one thing at least. She wasn't too young for me to consider anymore. 14 was a bit touchy but Luna was 15 when we first slept together. And now Astoria was 15 too… Was I actually considering this?
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Pansy watching us. She'd been… well, stalking seemed a bit harsh. But ever since our vacation started, she always seemed to have her eyes on me. It was hard for me to not notice her.
Now, she was barely bothering to hide, just leaning around a palm tree nearby. She worried at her lip, seeming to turn something over in her head. Then she nodded resolutely and began striding toward us.
"Me too!" Pansy declared.
Astoria jumped slightly, shocked out of her worry over my silence. I raised an eyebrow at Pansy, "You too?"
She nodded, "Yes! It's my birthday too! And that means I'm also a birthday princess and I deserve the same treatment as Astoria!"
"It's your birthday as well?" I asked, amused.
"No way, Pansy!" Astoria gasped, hopping in place in excitement. "I didn't know we shared a birthday! Eeeeeiiii~! This will be so much fun~!"
"You know, I hadn't even decided to go along with Astoria's request yet," I said. I decided I didn't mind but I didn't want to make it too easy for them.
"C'mon, Lord Daddy~" Pansy purred with lidded bedroom eyes. "You wouldn't want to let down two birthday princesses, would you~?"
Smirking back at Pansy, I turned my attention to Astoria, "Happy birthday, Astoria. Would you like your present now?"
Astoria squealed in excitement, "Yes, yes, yes~! Lewding, please~!"
Pansy gaped at me, "Wait, what about me?!"
I ignored her, scooping Astoria up in a princess carry instead of replying. I started making my way to someplace private. Pansy followed, not intent on giving up.
"T-This isn't fair! Pay attention to me, Daddy!" Pansy whined.
That brought me to a quick stop. Right, Pansy had a plethora of daddy issues she was repressing. And not repressing well, at that. But I could likely help her with those. The idea of being at all comparable to her birth father sent shivers of disgust down my spine.
"Why does this always happen…?" Pansy sniffled, cementing my decision.
"Right, can't have my other princess feeling left out. It is your birthday, after all. We'll have to talk about how you're supposed to ask for things politely though, Pansy," I said, shifting Astoria to sit on my shoulder and pulling Pansy tightly to my chest as I resumed walking.
Pansy froze in shock. Her legs only kept moving cause I was leading her. She almost started hyperventilating.
I rubbed her back to bring her back to reality, "There, there. Use your words, darling."
"D-Daddy…?" She asked in a small voice.
I hummed in reply, "Hmm, yes, princess?"
"I-I'm sorry… for trying to barge in and ruin Astoria's birthday present," Pansy seemed to naturally fall into a subby headspace.
"There you are. Good girl," I praised. "I'm more than willing to indulge you if you ask politely."
"Then… may I please join in?"
"You don't mind, do you, Astoria?"
Astoria giggled atop my shoulder, "Nope~! Pansy should be spoiled just like me~!"
"There you have it. You're welcome to join us for an early birthday present, darling," I emphasized 'early' to let her know I'd seen through her rather simple ruse.
Pansy blushed but seemed to relax. She practically melted into me, latching onto my side. A breathy giggle escaped her throat, "Wow~ Princess play with Lord Daddy~…"
I looked up slightly at Astoria, "Think we should team up on her?"
Astoria's grin was positively demonic, "Hehehe~! Yes, Big Bro Atlas~!"
"W-Wait! H-Hold on!" Pansy stuttered. It was already too late for her.
We'd reached the girls' shared cabin. I stripped Pansy with a thought. She squealed and tried to cover herself in embarrassment. My hands pulled hers away from her body. Astoria hopped down from my shoulders, quickly joining Pansy in the nude.
Astoria was proud as can be. Pansy was the opposite, nervously fidgeting as I took both of them in. As much as she played and pushed my buttons, her self-esteem wasn't the highest. I aimed to change that with plenty of praise and physical proof of my affections.
Astoria posed with her hands on her hips and her whole body on open display. She was petite but not childish. Her body was already well on the way to maturity. Small, impossibly perky breasts adorned her chest and her tummy was taut. She was a tight little work of art and proud of what she had.
Pansy was a bit less petite and a bit more curvy. Nothing that could have matched Heather's shortstack figure, Hermione's lower half, or Daphne's elegance. But she had her own charms.
She'd taken to the goth trend that struck Hogwarts just as well as Daphne did. While not huge, her breasts were nice handfuls. Her waist slimmed before blooming out into perfectly nice hips.
But the best part of her body was her skin. Pale and blemish-free, she practically glowed as if she was made of glass. She looked so smooth to the touch, so soft, so delicate.
I only had one word to describe them both, "Beautiful."
Astoria beamed at the compliment. Pansy blushed, her gorgeous skin coloring like a watercolor work of art. She needed my attention first. My clothes disappeared. Pansy's eyes widened as her mind stuttered. I swept her into my arms.
She stared up at me in shock, "I-Is this really happening?"
"Of course, princess," I reassured. "Now, let's see if I can fix the damage your birth father did to your self-esteem."
Pansy's face darkened for a moment, " Him…"
"You're a beautiful girl, Pansy," I whispered, laying her down on one of the twin beds in their cabin. "And you should be valued for more than just your looks and what selling you off in an arranged marriage could bring him. You're smart and resourceful. Strong. You're worth so much more than he could ever imagine."
That chased away the clouds that covered her expression. Her blush returned in full force. But she also looked almost relieved. Like she had been waiting for someone to say something like that for a long, long time.
"Also you're, like, really fun to talk to~!" Astoria chimed in over my shoulder.
Pansy giggled, "Alright, alright, no more sappy stuff. Lord Daddy needs to get it up so I can finally get a taste of everything he has to offer~"
"Already done."
"Wha-… Eep!"
My cock probed the entrance to her pussy. Hard as steel and fully erect, I throbbed against her skin. She was even more ready than me. Dew drops sparkled on the perfect skin of her inner thighs. Her flower glistened for me.
"O-Oh Merlin… You're going to split me in half," Pansy gasped.
"That's the plan. Don't worry. You won't feel a hint of pain. I'll make sure of it," I promised.
I pressed forward slowly. Pansy spread open around me. She let out little gasping moans as I pushed in further. Her insides were so smooth. Soft and wet, she clung to me like glue, putty before my hardness.
Pushing myself to the hilt, I held myself there. It quickly became apparent that Pansy wasn't used to these sensations in the slightest. She writhed and wriggled, fully impaled on my cock. She mewled constantly like a kitten.
Her hips bucked when I first pulled out. She desperately wanted me back inside. Filling her, completing her, driving her to heights of pleasure previously unknown.
I thrust myself in the second time just as slowly as the first. Even with the languid pace, Pansy was driven wild. Her legs spread, welcoming me in deeper. Her fingers threaded themselves through her chin-length hair, scratching at her scalp as if that would help her hold on just a moment longer. It didn't work.
"M-Mercy! P-Please! D-Daddddyyyyyyy~!" Pansy gasped out.
Since she wasn't Fleur, I slowed my pace to a crawl. Her body still shook with orgasm after orgasm just from the feeling of me inside her. Pansy was panting, overwhelmed. I figured it was a good idea to give her a break.
"I-I'm sorry…" Pansy whimpered as I pulled out.
"It's okay, darling," I cooed, stroking her hair. "You're just a pillow princess. One without any real experience. Nothing wrong with that."
She still whimpered, hiding her face in a pillow to hide her embarrassment. I kissed my way down her body, down her beautifully flushed skin. I left her with a soft touch to her clit that sent her spiraling into yet another climax.
Turning to my other princess, Astoria immediately jumped into my arms. She wasted no time, just like Luna, sinking down on my shaft.
I gasped. Actually gasped. She was tight. Oh-so-tight. It felt as if she was trying to strangle my cock. And as if she was succeeding.
Astoria wiggled her hips. She shuddered atop me. That vise-like grip fluttered in turn. I sunk another inch deep inside her. All the while, she never lost her trademark gremlin grin.
She ground herself down. Another inch. That smug grin got to me slightly. I wanted to wipe it off her loveable little face. I grabbed onto her petite hips and pulled.
Astoria gasped. Her head fell back at the sensations. I stretched her, split her open completely. It was a miracle she could fit all of me. Or magic. Let's go with magic.
All that mattered was that smug gremlin grin was gone. I held her there in my lap. She shivered and shifted. Then shivered again. Her pussy went crazy around my shaft. Her inner walls tensed and relaxed as if they were swallowing.
Astoria was breathless, "Wow~…"
"Is this the 'lewdy lewdy lewding' you were expecting?" I asked with a smug grin of my own.
"Oh yeah~! The lewdest of lewdings~!" Astoria's grin returned quicker than I expected.
Then she moved. I was caught off guard. Her pussy gripped all the way along my shaft. It felt like she was dragging my soul out as she pulled back. She pushed herself back down hard. I grunted as my soul 'returned'.
"This is fun~!" Astoria chimed cheerfully.
"Oh no," I muttered in realization. "What have I done? I've introduced this insatiable chaos demon to the pleasures of the flesh…"
"Wooooooo~! Lewding~!" She cheered. "Look at me go~!"
She rode me with her usual endless energy. With every thrust, her pussy squeezed tightly around me. With every orgasm, her whole body shook. It didn't stop her at all. It just motivated her further.
I held onto her hips, intent on taking back control. She seemed to enjoy that just as much as riding me. Even as I stood and she lost her footing, Astoria just grinned and basked in the sensations.
She clung to me tightly, inside and out. She came like a fountain on my cock. I pounded up into her harder and harder. She never stopped enjoying everything I had to give her.
Her tight little pussy milked me over the edge. I groaned, pulling her down to meet my hips. My cock exploded. She was so tight, the pressure so intense, that I was afraid my first shot would bruise her womb. She just wrapped her legs tighter around me and squealed with excitement.
I let myself fall back on the bed. I had to hold her in place so she wouldn't start going again. I almost regretted my choices for a moment. I'd unleashed this 'evil' upon myself. This 'evil' known as Astoria Greengrass.
I dismissed those thoughts. Dying in that vise-like grip would be worth it. Holding Astoria in place, she pouted because she couldn't easily start riding me again. I ignored her, taking the moment to catch my metaphorical breath.
Pansy cuddled into my side, muttering to herself, "S-So what if I can't take Daddy's cock yet… I-I may be a pillow princess but that just means I'm even better at cuddling!"
Astoria shrugged, "Cuddling is good too~"
Chuckling, I let myself relax into the bed beneath us. Merlin, my life rocked. Oh, what a year can change… I suppose that just goes to show, that it pays to help Heather Potter.