Chapter 11 - Don't Try To Hide It

I know you think you're in a bottomless pit, hell

I'll be at the bottom, waiting with my shivers and shakes

The ground's not rushing up to meet you, just yet, oh!

Earth is but a garden, forget about your guarded aches

Everything, Everything - Don't Try

Pam had been drumming her perfectly manicured fingernails against the cold, marble kitchen counter in a steady rhythm since waking that evening and locating the percolating coffee pot, trying to piece together what her life was turning into. She felt like she was either walking dead, or she was thrown into so much Northman drama she could barely stop to change her shoes. Whatever had happened in the past, there seemed to be something so much worse raising its ugly head over the horizon of the future, and this new found over-zealousness of her maker was, quite frankly, starting to make her sick. She thought back to when she had rescued him in Europe, so many years ago. The years they had spent on the run to get back to the US without having their pieces "magically" disappear. It's not that she had a problem with witches and wizards, the real kind anyway, most of them hadn't tried to decompose her with their mumbo-jumbo. But she still didn't like the secretive way they went about their daily lives, their little community having no touch whatsoever with the other side. At least vampires had made the effort prior to opening themselves up to the world and would learn about the changes in cultures, creeds, democracies, totalitarian dictatorships, the usual human issues that arose with the passing of time. Hell, wizards stuck out like a sore thumb in the UK, wandering around in their dress robes and thinking it was "muggles", as they put it, who had the problem. There was nothing wrong with being draped in Tiffany and Coco, or pulling on a pair of jeans and a jumper rather than several layers of cloth. To Pam, they were yet another example of breathers who were inept at blending in, always having to stand out even when trying to fade into the crowd.

Another problem Pam had, although she would never vocalise having problems, was the wizarding worlds utter arrogance, and the way that it seeped into the mindset of other, more magically adept, creatures, and found itself superior. Of course, times were changing, and Pam had been a witness to this once Eric was able to return to Europe to receive the belated Freya's effects, post the removal of the snake faced despot who had tried so many years ago to either recruit or remove Eric from the playing field. It had been Eric who had mounted the rebellion against him with the vampires at the helm, never afraid of getting a few cuts and bruises in the battle. Typical Viking. Pam and Eric had travelled to Scotland with the vampires who had, ironically, aligned themselves with "the Light", and had fought in the Forbidden Forest at Hogwarts School, some big wig private academy. Pam had almost laughed when news from the castle claimed that a boy, barely a man, and his ragtag band of friends had finally killed the one the called "The Dark Lord". If not for the pain in her arm from the deep gash left by one of those mangy werewolves they had fighting against them, she would have rolled on the floor with laughter, dignity be damned. Those disgusting creatures had made her ruin a perfectly good pair of Prada's, she was NOT impressed.

It wasn't the battle that had been the most interesting for Pam, however, but the aftermath. The political drama and intrigue that followed the death of...whatever his name was...and the stardom of the one known as Harry Potter had spread. One wily witch had snuck into the world of the Non-Maj and write a book series that had been made into a movie. Pam sighed as she remembered watching the first film by accident when visiting Sookie, during their weekly catch ups. With Eric away at that time, Pam found comfort in dropping in on the happy little Bon Temps family she had fashioned. They had giggled as the young pup, Hunter, had watched with wide eyes as magic flew and absorbed him, pulling him into the fantasy world. Pam hadn't had the opportunity to watch any more, what with the whole "save the Eric" mission that had brought her to this point. Sitting in her kitchen. Drumming her fingers on the cold, marble counter, waiting for Eric to rise so preparations could be finalised before he forced himself to up sticks and move again to Europe.

_o0o_

The Council of Magical Beings - First Session Post-SWW

The gathering had been requested following Tom Riddle's death as a matter of urgency, the magical community being the spearhead of it's calling. The wish for equality amongst all magical factions, to save the world from another puritanical maniac. All races and species were present, with two representatives, one male one female, speaking on the communities behalf. It was an unusual sight for many who had gathered, being in the same room with friend and foe, with vampires sitting beside werewolves, centaurs beside satyrs, and three wizards sitting in full view, centre stage, ready to discuss how, as one, they could all move forwards.

With a swish of her wand, Hermione politely amplified her voice and lightly coughed for attention. She felt the room quieten, each delegate comfortably sitting in silence awaiting what was to follow. Some were shooting venomous looks at one another, some were looking somewhat like prey. It was one particular set of eyes that truly caught Hermione's attention, their amber intensity flecked with gold and black strands that yelled danger! She swallowed, hard, and tried to recollect the exact mechanism involved when trying to breathe. Harry, who was looking at her intently awaiting her segment of the pre-crafted speech, noted her sudden captivation and chuckled to himself. She had only ever looked at two other people in such a way and, as she was in all ways but blood, he of course knew whom both were aimed at. The first time had been when she had caught sight of Remus coming back from the Forbidden Forest after his transformation. She had twittered on about Colin Firth, Mr Darcy and how she had wished it had been raining for so long the mere words in his memories made Harry shudder. He could never look Remus in the eye after one of his transformations again. The second had been, much to Harry's chagrin, when Professor Snape had announced himself at Grimmauld Place after the Second Wizarding War, moments after Sirius had barked his way back home. Harry smiled and let out a cough of his own, making Hermione's jaw snap back into place like a bear trap. Hermione winced, making Harry chuckle darkly, she was still sore from injuries during the battle. It had not been long since that they had called this meeting, to acknowledge the brave and the fallen from everyone who had helped him win the war. He called the Ministry to heal with the love of the nation, something that still didn't necessarily sit well with him but, with a budding friend like Draco, who seemed to have benefited in a mere few days from the love and security of The Burrow, and had stopped being, as Ron put it "such a knobhead all the time".

The meeting flowed seamlessly, with each representative given a voice and a thanks personally from Harry, with a promise from the Interim Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt that new laws and accords would be drafted immediately to accommodate the cultures, treaties and beliefs of all. For the first time in however many millennia, every magical entity was at peace, and for the length of Harry Potter's legacy, a new age would unfurl. The only two things that niggled in his mind were the attention spans of the true Fae, who seemed highly distracted and the only ones who questioned this peaceful tenure, making it clear that it was not of enough benefit for them to really hold attention. Harry sneered, looking at them through his peripheral vision. There would always be someone to watch out for, there would never be true peace. But at least it would be enough for now.

His second concern was the non-verbal interaction that had captivated his sister's attention, and the broad, blond, dark and dashing vampire representative and his ice queen companion. Hermione could barely pull her attention away from what was clearly a mutual fascination, and Harry caught the eye of the ice queen Barbie on more than one occasion, and this was terrifying as he could swear both of them seemed hungry. He took over from that point, surprising himself with how easy this was compared to what he had to face in his life thus far. He gained and earned the respect of so many new allies, and had finally opened himself up to the questions of the public. Many were obvious, but some were more based on his personal health and well being, and this warmed his heart immensely. With a happy sigh as the meeting adjourned, he watched new alliances form in the best ways. He also watched as a certain vampire, one Eric Northman elder known as "The Viking" introduced himself and his bored companion with a zeal he had never witnessed before. The interaction was borderline feral, the looks and small twitches and actions elicited something any one who did not know Hermione as well as Harry did would have overlooked it as a friendly conversation. Harry looked away, feeling as if he was invading on an intimate moment between two souls, sharing a shoulder shrug and slight nod with The Snow Queen, who on closer inspection was dressed like a Stepford Wife which was a very odd visual combination. He supposed she wasn't so bad, even if her entire look still managed to scream deadly.

Harry felt the earth shift beneath them at the rugged departure of the Fae, the Forbidden Forest rumbling in disgruntlement at the intrusion. It was certainly unforeseen, it was almost violent, and Harry sighed. Here we go again...