Odd Ideas

by Rorschach's Blot

Odd little one shots that may or may not be turned into their own stories.

133. Dungeons 'n Drow

Disclaimer: An author once said something along the lines of; "there's a word for people that think the views of a character are the same of those of the author, that word is fools."

Dungeons 'n Drow

Harry sat in his cupboard, nursing his wounds. It was his seventh birthday so Dudley and the goons had decided to give him a 'party'. Unnoticed, the boy's magic surged with his emotions, waiting, wanting to do something, anything to take the pain away.

"I wish I was somewhere else," Harry wheezed. "Anywhere but here!"

And then, in a flash of light that no one saw, he was.

Hogwarts, four years later:

Minerva stormed into the Headmaster's office with a sharp look on her face that caused the old man to sigh in frustration, it was going to be one of those days.

"What can I do for you, Minerva?" Albus asked lightly. Perhaps he could fake some sort of medical ailment to distract the woman? On the heels of that thought was another, would Poppy back him up?

"You can explain this," she barked, flinging a scrap of paper at his face.

"Harry Potter, unknown," the old man read.

"That's never happened," Minerva growled. "The quill always knows the addresses, always."

"Perhaps the wards . . ." the old man began.

"I checked," she interrupted. "He's not there, disappeared years ago according to his so called-" A sneer appeared on her face. "Family!"

"What?" Albus went cold. "Tell me everything."

"Disappeared from a locked cupboard four years ago," Minerva reported. "I told you, Albus. I told you what those people were like and you didn't listen to me."

"You did and I didn't," he agreed. This wasn't the time to get bogged down by arguments. "Get Filius, I want the two of you to go directly to the Dursley residence. Sit on the family and guard the scene."

"I'll get a vial of Veritaserum from Severus before I go." She'd enjoy forcing it into that fat tub's gob.

"I . . . do so." Now was not the time to be squeamish. "I'll join you as soon as I've picked up some trustworthy help from the Ministry."

The Dursley residence, three hours later:

Minerva glared down at the drooling morons, the story she'd wrung out of them had not been pleasant.

"Were you able to find anything else, Minerva?" Albus asked gently.

"No!" the woman spat. "Just that he disappeared from the locked cupboard and that I want to do things that would see me in Azkaban."

Dumbledore turned to give instructions to faceless individuals he'd brought from an unnamed department, only to find that they were already about their work.

It didn't take long for them to piece together what happened. Even years after the event, the magical residue of Harry's departure was still strong and, more importantly, clear enough to get an accurate trace.

"Hopped dimensions," one of the faceless men who'd arrived with Dumbledore said professionally. "Be able to send you after him in an hour or so."

"Thank you," Dumbledore said calmly.

The man was back forty five minutes later to announce that they were ready.

"A regular portkey should get you back here," he said as his fellows readied the ritual. "Be sure to report if there's anything useful or interesting on the other side." If they didn't return, they'd assume there wasn't and would forget the whole thing as a bad investment.

"We will," Dumbledore agreed. "Ready, Minerva, Filius?

"Ready, Albus."

"One more thing," the individual said. "Looks like time may act differently on the other side, don't be surprised if the boy is older than you'd expect him to be."

"How much older?" Dumbledore asked quickly.

"Could be a year could be a hundred, no way of knowing without more tests."

"Let us be off then," Dumbledore said firmly.

The world seemed to shift and blur for a few seconds, minutes, eternities. Up was down and down was left, and everything was spinning, spinning, whirling, turning, shifting until suddenly, it stopped. They had arrived in another time in another place.

They found themselves standing on a manure covered cobble stone street in a city that smelled like an open sewer, which, in a way it was. Best not examine the water in the canals that allowed access to every borough.

"Gardy loo!" a voice called out from above and the three Hogwarts Professors narrowly missed being drenched in a foul liquid. Perhaps it was best not to walk too close to the buildings either.

"Now that we're here, how will we find him?" Minerva demanded. The old woman took the whole scene in with a look of frank disapproval, this was worse than a trip to the continent.

"Find who?" a voice asked from the alley asked. "Old Yan can help you find anyone for a silver coin."

"We're looking for a boy named Harry Potter," Minerva replied.

"Harry?" the old man grinned. "I may know who you're talking about, but he's no boy."

"You know, Harry?" Dumbledore interjected. The unspeakables had warned that time may move different here.

"I know of him," the old man corrected. "He's a Condottiero of some renown. The bards love to sing about him and his adventures."

"Tell us about him," Albus requested.

"Afraid my memory isn't so good when my pockets are empty," the old man replied.

Albus reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of coins. "Here."

"They say that he got his start as a gutter thief before winning a scholarship to study magic. I know that he became an adventurer for a few years after that before he joined of one of the free companies in the war against the north. He was commanding the company when the war ended and he led it in the war of the cities, the invasion of Crusoe, and the siege of Agamemnon."

"Where is he now?"

"Last I heard, he was working for the Church on the Rock up in North Hallow. Three days north of here."

"Come, Minerva, Filius," Dumbledore said grandly. "We've not a moment to spare."

Three days of travel and a dozen ambushes later, the three Professors found themselves in a meeting with the spiritual leader of the Church on the Rock in a richly furnished meeting hall, decked out in rich white silk and finely cut gems.

"Yes," the religious leader agreed. "We've hired Harry the Lucky, what of it?"

"We need to speak with him about a personal matter," Dumbledore said delicately.

"Planning to kill him are you?" the old man laughed. "Guess it's to be expected. He does have a certain reputation after all."

"Erg?"

"What'd he do?" the old man asked eagerly. "Seduce your wife, daughter, sister? Kill a close family member? Kill everyone in your family, burn your village, seduce half your family and kill the other half?"

"We'd like to offer him a place at our school," Dumbledore assured the older man.

"Really?" The old man regarded them all with a look of frank skepticism. "In that case, I'd be happy to lend you one of my priests as a guide for a donation of only a hundred gold pieces."

"Isn't that a bit steep?" Dumbledore coughed.

"If you're not going to tell me why you want to kill him, then I can't sell the story to the bards and subsidize your trip." The old priest sniffed. "I bid you good day."

Several acolytes stepped forward to 'gently' escort the three professors out of the room.

"Gonna make that 'donation' or are we going to have to ask you to leave?" one of the larger acolytes growled.

"We already 'donated' twenty gold for the meeting with your leader," Dumbledore protested.

"And you had it," the acolyte agreed. "We'll need a hundred more for the guide."

Grumbling, Dumbledore pulled out his money pouch and counted out one hundred golden galleons. "Happy?"

"Brother Brutus will be escorting you to the camp," the acolyte announced.

"Come with me," a cassock clad man, presumably Brother Brutus, murmured. They followed him to a manure filled stable. "Pick your mounts."

"Dibs on the dun," Minerva said quickly.

"I'll take the bay," Filius hastened to add.

"Then I suppose I'm left with the paint," Dumbledore announced. It had been a while since he'd last ridden, but he was confident that his skills hadn't faded too much.

"The paint is mine," Brother Brutus interjected. "You'll have to take the Donkey."

It wasn't easy, but Dumbledore managed to resist the urge to pull rank to get one of the horses for himself. It became harder to resist when the donkey bit and tried to kick him. Surly creature.

They were on the road, a double lane dirt track really, for three hours when Albus decided to break the silence. "Why do they call him Harry the Lucky?" the old man asked, slapping a horse fly that had gotten too close.

"Why do they call him Harry the Lucky?" the old man asked, slapping a horse fly that had gotten too close.

"Cause the bastard could fall into a cesspool and he'd come out smelling of roses with pockets filled with gold," the guide said sourly. "Not to mention that Drow he's got." Now there was a fine example of the type of female form that tempted one to violate their vows of celibacy.

"I see." Albus decided to find out what a 'Drow' was later. "What can you tell me about him?"

"He's death on two legs, not a man to cross at all. I heard that he was on an expedition into the pits, you couldn't find enough gold in the world to get me near one of the entrances and he went down into them for two years. In short, not the kind of man you'd wish to cross."

Albus frowned in frustration, every answer brought a dozen new questions, each new question prompted a dozen more.

"How much longer before we get there?" Filius spoke up. His backside was killing him, it had been far too long since he'd been in the saddle, too long since he'd had any sort of a ride come to think about it. He shot a glance at Minerva, perhaps it was time to offer to crack open another bottle of scotch?

"Shouldn't be long now, unless they've changed camps," Brother Brutus replied. "Don't see why they would, last message said they were doing a quick sweep of the last village."

They smelled the camp long before they arrived, the stench of burnt flesh and ruptured intestine hung thickly in the air and the sounds of men moaning in pain echoed through the trees.

"What's that?" Albus asked.

"They must have found another nest of cultists," their guide replied. "Funeral pyres."

"I see."

Eventually, they caught sight of several neat rows of camps in the common field of an empty village.

"Here we are," Brother Brutus said with a satisfied grin. The man spurred his horse in the direction of the nearest pickets. "Wait here," he called over his shoulder.

Brother Brutus conferred with the pickets for a few moments before waving them forward.

One of the men who looked large enough to give Hagrid a run for his money gave Dumbledore a hard look. "Wizard?"

"I am," the Headmaster agreed.

"I'll put down five silver that they last more then two minutes against the boss," the man declared.

"Ten that the boss makes the short one kill the other two," another, this one barely reaching the first man's knee countered. He stroked his beard. "I'd say that would up the time to at least five minutes, more if the boss wants to put on a show."

Several more bets flew back and forth, none of them the sort that was designed to make any of the Hogwarts Professors feel good about their upcoming meeting or the man they were to meet with.

"We finished, gentlemen?" Brother Brutus asked and was answered by several nods. "Then we've a meeting to attend."

"Do I want to know?" Minerva asked, fairly sure that she didn't, less sure that she didn't need to.

"The men like to bet on how long the assassins will last against their captain," Brother Brutus explained. "Current record is four minutes, but that was a large group."

"I see."

They rode to the center of the camp to find a solid looking grey haired man supervised as the men cut stakes to impale the prisoners at his feet.

"What are you doing?" Dumbledore asked, horrified almost beyond words by what was happening before him.

"Contract says that any cultists taken alive are to be impaled," the solid looking man explained calmly.

"If their crimes are so serious, then you should see them tried in a proper court," Albus argued.

"I am the proper court," the man barked. "Empowered by the church, the king, and the local magistrate to do as I see fit. As for the rest, Marko!"

"Sir?" A man covered in armor from head to toe sprang forward.

"Show them what we found," he ordered grimly.

"At once, sir," Marko agreed. The man left with their guests, returning a few minutes later with three deathly pale mages.

"Would you accept a bit of help?" Minerva asked, wiping her vomit stained lips with the sleeve of her robe. "The sooner these sassanaks get the point, the better."

"Minerva?" Albus muttered in shock.

"Children, Albus, you saw what these bastards did," Minerva spat. "They deserve worse than what they're getting and you know it."

"My men know what they're doing," the man said calmly. "I'm afraid that you'd just get in the way. Now what brings you to my camp?"

"We're here to meet Harry," Dumbledore replied.

"I'm Harry," the man introduced himself. "What do you want to meet about?"

"A personal matter," Dumbledore stalled.

"We're not trying to kill you," Filius added.

"That's what the last group said," Harry laughed. "You don't want to know what I did to them. I really don't like being lied to."

"We really aren't trying to kill you," Minerva said sincerely. "And even if we were, I'd wait till after you got those bastards on the stake."

"Fair enough. We'll meet in my tent," Harry decided. "This way." He walked down one of the rows to a large pavilion. "Not much, but better then anything I had in the first fifteen years on the road."

The three Professors were shocked at how small the tent was on the inside, didn't seem to have expanded at all and barely had any climate control charms.

"Have a seat." Harry waved them to a large folding table. "Refreshments," he ordered.

"At once," a smooth feminine voice agreed, drawing the faculty's attention to a silent figure covered in robes.

The figure glided to Harry's side and a delicate, coal black hand reached out of the dark silk robe to set a glass in front of her master.

"This is Min, my servant," Harry introduced the cloaked figure. "Part of my payment for a bit of dirty business in the pits."

"Part of your payment?" Dumbledore repeated sickly.

"Only reason she sticks around is because she's waiting for a chance to slip a blade in between my ribs," Harry laughed.

"I've the time to be patient," a musical voice agreed from under the hood.

"Now then, what was it you wanted to speak with me about?"

"We're here to deliver your invitation to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," Dumbledore said dully. "The premier school of magic in your home dimension."

"Don't you think I'm a bit old to go back to school?"

"We have a way of taking care of that," Dumbledore replied.

"How long is this school of yours?"

"Seven years."

"That's all?" Harry asked in shock. "I was at the guild for twelve years when they tossed me out into my first war. And even after twelve years, I was still five away from making journeyman."

"What do you mean, tossed you out?" Filius joined the conversation.

"Any apprentice that had been at the guild for more then ten years was drafted." Harry smirked at the memory of how few mages actually went. "Unless of course their families were too powerful to annoy or rich enough to bribe their way out of it." Which the majority of them were. "War lasted two years and I was informed that not a minute of it counted towards seniority when I got back." He laughed again. "In fact, they said that my next three years wouldn't count because I'd have to be retrained to get back to guild standards." His smile turned feral. "Afraid I made a bit of a mess on my way out."

"What kind of mess?" Dumbledore prompted, almost afraid of hearing the answer.

"The pampered princes at the academy were ill equipped to deal with an experienced battle mage, trying to stop me was the last mistake several of them made." He'd learned far more and far more useful in two years of war than he had in the previous twelve years at the academy."Now then, why don't we talk business, shall we? First thing I want to know is how you intend to restore my youth."

Their negotiations carried on until through the night and well into the next day.

"Alright," Harry agreed. "I think we have a deal."

"I think we do," Dumbledore said with a grin.

"Been thinking of retiring and now I can." Didn't seem like a bad idea to do it in a world where he was as anonymous as everyone else and where he didn't have enough enemies to build an army. "Min."

"Master?"

"You're free," Harry said simply. "And welcome to use the knife on my belt if you wish."

"That's not fair," Min whined.

"All talk?" he challenged.

"You know I could have killed you and escaped after the first ten years," she agreed unhappily. "And you weren't supposed to point it out like that." It was just rude is what it was, a blow to her pride as a matron's daughter.

"There was a seed of doubt at the back of my mind," he admitted. "Wanna come with me, then?" Harry asked "You're welcome to do that as well."

"Where you go, I follow, master."

Harry stepped out of the tent, his eyes squinting at the sudden brightness. "Lieutenant."

"Sir?"

"The company's yours, congratulations."

"Thank you, sir."

"I'm going to tell you what my predecessor told me, don't screw it up."

"I won't, sir."

"Have Noodnik get everything packed," Harry ordered. "I want to be gone before the sun sets."

"I'll handle it, master," Min agreed.

Harry spent the next few hours in preparation for his coming departure, finally rejoining the professors and his servant a few hours before sunset.

"Ready?" Dumbledore asked.

"In a minute," Harry replied.

They were soon joined by a little man with a large nose and a giant wooden chest on his back.

"Ready," Harry stated.

"Touch the rope," Dumbledore commanded.

Everyone complied and the portkey activated.

"We're back," Albus announced, doing his best to ignore the fact that Minerva was vomiting on his shoes.

"Looks like I'm a child again," Harry said thoughtfully. "Guess I won't need that elixir after all."

"But we still expect it to be delivered promptly," Min added quickly.

"Good point," Harry agreed. "How you feeling, Min?"

"Like a girl of barely fifty," she giggled. "One that can't wait for you to grow up a bit."

"Something to look forward to," Harry agreed. "And . . . why do you look exactly the same, Noodnik?"

The large nosed man took a moment to inspect himself. "This is the way I always look, sir."

"Yes but . . ." Harry shook his head, he tried not to pry into his employe's private affairs. "First thing we need to do is find a place to set up the keep."

"Keep?" Dumbledore echoed.

"It's such a pain that I don't usually bother with it when I'm on a campaign unless I expect to be in one place for more then a week or two. Near that school of yours would be best, but I don't mind a small commute."

"I'd though you could stay in the dormitories with the other students," Dumbledore said weakly.

"We never agreed to that," Min said, voice like a babbling brook.

"And I'm not about to be cooped up with a bunch of brats," Harry added.

"The rules state . . ."

"We did agree that I would follow all reasonable rules," Harry interrupted. "And you are welcome to expel me if we have different views of what rules are reasonable."

McGonagall straightened up and wiped the vomit off her lips with the back of her hand. "We could put them in the Forbidden Forest," she suggested.

IIIIIIIIII

Against his better judgement, Dumbledore led his trump card to a carefully selected spot on the edge of the Forbidden forest and watched as Harry carefully inspected the site carefully before delivering his decision.

"No," the boy said firmly.

"What's wrong with it?" Dumbledore demanded. It was one of the safest spots in the forest sitting as it did on the edge of Hogwarts' wards.

"Not very defensible is it? Come on, let's see what's in this direction."

"What is in that direction, Hagrid?" Dumbledore whispered.

"Nut'n much, jes Aragog and his family."

"What!" Dumbledore rushed to catch up to the boy and his servants. "Come on, Hagrid."

They found Harry standing on top of hill at the center of a large clearing, the spasming corpses of a dozen giant spiders littering the ground around them with several living spiders watching from a safe distance.

"Now this has potential," Harry apprized. "Got a natural spring for water, a hill, good fields of fire, and it's fairly close to the castle."

"Not to mention the spiders, master," Min added with a smile.

"Just like home for you, 'eh, Min?"

"Close enough," she agreed. "Without my sisters and with a sky."

"Thought you didn't have any more sisters?"

"The eldest sister wasn't as thorough as she thought she was, apparently I wasn't the only survivor."

"The rest band together to knock your eldest sister off the hill?"

"And then took to infighting, yes, master. One of the reasons I'm never going back." As the youngest, she'd never been able to amass enough resources to challenge her elder siblings, damn them.

"I think we'll take this spot, Dumbledore," Harry announced. "May move it again in the future if I find something better, but that's something to think about later."

"But . . . the spiders," the old wizard said weakly.

"Make it difficult for intruders," Harry agreed. "Might have to take them with me if I decide to move."

"I see."

"Noodnik, set up the keep and then run a path to the main castle. Min, we're going shopping for school supplies."

"Yes, master."

"Be a good elf and we might take a look at what poisons this world has to offer," Harry purred.

"Yes, master, thank you, master!" the Drow squealed.

"Would you like me to make you a portkey to and from Diagon Alley?" Dumbledore asked, determined to put the last few minutes behind him.

"Sure," Harry agreed. "They take gold, right?"

"They do," Dumbledore agreed. "Which reminds me, here is the key to your vault." The Headmaster pulled a key out of his pocket. "Along with a list of school supplies."

"Min."

The Drow took the two items from the wizard. "The portkey?"

"Of course." Dumbledore grabbed a stick off the ground. "Touch it and say 'Alley' to get there and 'back to the castle we go' to get back."

"Noodnik!" Harry barked. "Come with us, you can deal with the path later."v

"Yes, sir."

Harry made a quick check to insure that the others had a hold of the portkey. "Alley."

They arrived on the steps of Gringotts, a large stone building with two spear wielding guards flanking the entrance.

"Ever seen goblins that disciplined?" Harry asked, giving the guards a professional once over.

"Never, master," Min replied. They both ignored the way the guards tightened their grips on their weapons.

"Interesting," Harry agreed. "We can look into it later." He strode up to the counter.

"Key," the goblin growled.

"Min."

She pulled the key out of her pocket and laid it on the counter in front of the suddenly wide eyed goblin.

"Would you care to use the elevators, ma'am?" the goblin squeaked, regarding Harry's servant in the same manner one regards a giant rabid badger. Why in the hell did one of THEM have to come into the bank? More importantly, why did it have to be on his shift and at his desk?

"Master?" Min asked.

"What's the alternative?" Harry prompted.

Two terror filled eyes swiveled onto Harry. "The mine carts, sir. They're quite unpleasant." The hyperventilating goblin nearly shat himself, not only was one of THEM in the bank but SHE was accompanied by a being SHE addressed as master.

"We'll use the elevator," Harry decided. "Noodnik."

"Yes, sir?" the big nosed porter asked.

"How much space do you have?"

"Enough, sir."

"Wonderful." Harry had learned that he didn't want details a long time before. "Lead the way."

"Right this way, sir," the goblin simpered. "Noncore will take you to your vault, sir."

"Beautiful," Harry said happily. "Come along, Min."

"A moment, master." She turned to the goblin. "See that the keys to any vaults belonging to my master are promptly delivered to me, understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," the trembling goblin agreed quickly. "I hear and obey."

Harry spent a few minutes inspecting the contents of the vault before turning to his porter. "Load up everything in the vault, be sure to set any items aside."

"Yes, sir."

"Then I want you to buy everything on the list Dumbledore gave me."

Min pulled the piece of parchment out of her robe and handed it to the man.

"Should I keep an eye out for extras, sir?"

"Yes, use your judgement," Harry ordered. "When you're finished, buy yourself something to eat and drink and then wait for us to get you at the point we arrived."

"Yes, sir."

"Min."

"Yes, master?" The Drow's ears perked up.

"We're going to take a look around, be on your best behavior. That means?"

"No killing anyone without your permission unless they attack us," she recited, ears drooping. In other words, no fun.

"Good girl." Harry grinned. "Now let's get back to that elevator. See if you can get the plans for it, Noodnik."

"Yes, sir."

"Master?" Min said, trying to figure out why he'd be interested in the device.

"Think how much the dwarves would be willing to pay for them," Harry explained.

"Yes, master." The Drow nodded.

They spent the next few minutes strolling through the alley and taking in the sights until they found the entrance to another shopping district.

"You don't want to go in there, lad," the old witch advised. "That's where the darkest of the dark wizards do their business."

"Thank you," Harry replied with a grin. "Hear that, Min?"

"Sounds like an excellent place to get a few more samples for my poison collection!" the dark elf squealed.

"And to make a few contacts," Harry agreed. It didn't take long before they had their first prospect.

"Le' me go!" the pickpocket screamed.

"If he doesn't quiet down in the next thirty seconds, break one of his fingers," Harry ordered. "Then another every ten seconds until he does."

"Which one, master?"

"Dealer's choice," Harry replied.

The grubby boy settled down with three seconds and seven fingers to spare.

"How do I get in touch with your fence?"

"Piss off," the thief murmured sullenly.

"Min, if he refuses to answer another question. Break another finger," Harry ordered.

"What happens when I run out of fingers, master?" the Drow asked, hoping that it would be something good.

"Dazzle me with your creativity." Harry turned his focus back onto the thief. "Well?"

"Back entrance of the third shop on the left, knock three times on the door and ask for Nico."

"Wonderful. Which shop has the best selection of poisons?"

Fifteen minutes and a bit more unpleasantness later; Harry had all the information he wanted and the thief had been released back into his natural habitat. Two hours later, they'd completed their shopping and returned to Gringotts to find Noodnik waiting for them.

"Aren't you going to follow up on anything you learned from the thief, master?" Min asked as the three of them prepared to return to the keep.

"Just wanted to get an idea of how things ran in this world, no plans to take up my first profession," he explained. He turned to his large nosed hench. "Got everything?"

"All but the wand, sir. Shopkeep wouldn't sell that to me."

"Why not?"

"Says that only you can choose it, said it had to do with how your magic reacts to the materials and what not."

Harry let out an annoyed sigh. "Let's get this over with."

"This way, sir."

Harry followed his big nosed henchman to the wand shop and walked through the door.

"Ah, Mr. Potter. I was expecting you, I . . ." Olivander trailed off as he made eye contact with the boy. "What are you?" he demanded harshly.

"I'm Harry Potter," the boy replied. "What are you?"

"You are not Harry Potter," the old wandmaker growled. "Harry is a child and doesn't reek of foreign magics."

"I am an adult that spent a bit of time on another plane," Harry corrected. "How did you know?"

"Olivanders were crafting wands since shortly after the first crops were sowed on this island," the odd man rumbled. "Here for a wand?"

"You wouldn't sell it to my man," Harry agreed.

It took a few minutes of trial and error, but Harry was eventually the proud new owner of one magic wand.

"Any chance of getting a spare?" Harry asked mildly.

"Wait until your magic has stabilized in say . . . three years, try to keep the one you've got intact until then." Olivander smiled suddenly. "I don't suppose you have any wand components from the other world, do you?"

"That all depends," Harry said thoughtfully.

"On what?"

"On what you're offering," Harry began the negotiations.

IIIIIIIIII

The Deputy Headmistress was waiting at the gates when they arrived back from their shopping trip. It did not appear that the woman had been there long, suggesting that she either had a few spies in the Alley or some connection to the wards along with a quick way to get out.

"Mr. Potter," she greeted the boy. "The road we are standing on leads to a magical town named Hogsmead. As you are not a normal student, you may feel free to spend as much of your free time in Hogsmead as you like. I would like to request that you . . ." Her eyes locked onto the obscene dagger on the boy's belt. "Care to explain that, Mr. Potter?" Minerva barked, giving him her patented naughty student look number three.

Harry raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "Explain what?" he asked, honestly bewildered by the woman's sudden change in tone.

"Your dirk," she clarified. "More specifically, the handle?"

Harry's eyebrows raised. "It's ebony, I'll agree that the platinum inlays are a bit ostentatious but nothing I can't afford. Guess I should have gone for something more gaudy to show off my station to the inbred rabble that couldn't recognize the wood, but I wanted something functional."

"That's not . . ." She took a deep breath. "Why is it shaped like a man's . . . ah . . ." the old woman colored. "Genitalia."

"I don't know," Harry admitted, it wasn't something he'd ever thought about. "Why do you ask?"

"I think it's more of that prudishness, master," Min spoke up, finding the whole situation endlessly amusing.

"Bollock daggers are common enough where I got this so as not to merit comment," Harry informed the head of Gryffindor House. "I got it because experience has taught me to always have a dagger on my belt." And another up his sleeve, sometimes a third and a fourth hidden elsewhere on his body.

"I see." Minerva frowned.

"I've had it for ten years and I'm not going to stop carrying it," Harry continued. "Magic is wonderful but there is no way in hell that I'm going to depend solely on magic for my defense. This dagger is the only thing I have that I can use in this body, give me a year or two and I'll be able to carry a sword again. Till then . . ." he trailed off.

"Isn't there another dagger you could use?" Minerva asked hopefully.

"No. And I'm not going to get a new one." Not after all the time he'd spent enchanting the one he already had.

"I see." Minerva sighed, she hated cultural misunderstandings. "Would you consent to putting a notice me not charm on it?"

"What is a notice me not charm?" Harry demanded. "Please tell me it's what I think it is."

"It's a charm that makes it difficult to notice whatever it's cast on," Minerva lectured. "It only works so long as you don't draw any attention to the object you're trying to hide."

Harry's eyes were shining, this had potential. "Do you mind casting it on a few things for me?"

"Not at all," Minerva replied, happy that things had been cleared up. "I would like to add that I am almost always willing to lend a hand to one of my students." She raised her wand and hit the dagger with a quick charm.

"Thank you." Harry grinned widely. "The other things are back at the keep. Please allow us to host you for dinner some night, we can take care of any further enchantment then."

"I would be delighted to accept and I will be sure to contact your elf later to arrange things." She resisted the urge to blush, superimposing the face of the man she'd met onto the boy he'd become.

"Now, back to the original conversation. I believe you had a request for me?"

"Yes, that's right. I was hoping that you would be willing to be a bit discrete. Either avoiding Hogsmead when the students are given a free weekend or acting as if you'd snuck out of the castle."

"That should not pose any difficulties," Harry agreed. "Was there anything else?"

"That is all I wished to address," Minerva replied. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Potter."

"Any time, Professor."

Harry spent the weeks before school building his list of local contacts and establishing himself in the forest as a being much too powerful to annoy. It was all very boring to the former Mercenary Captain and it was a bit of a relief when the school year finally started.

"Hmmm, interesting," the Hat mumbled. "You certainly understand loyalty, or you'd have never risen to become the commander of a free company. You value knowledge, or you'd have never agreed to come here. You're cunning, oh my you're cunning. More Slytherin than Salazar himself. And as for courage, your balls are so big that fate has given you a Drow servant to help you carry them around. So it had better be . . . Gryffindor!" the Hat finished loudly.

"If you share my secrets with anyone, I'll kill them and destroy you."

"Your secrets are gone," the Hat replied. "I can't remember anything that happened during a sorting past the sorting."

"Beautiful." Harry snapped his fingers. "Min, attend me."

"What do you need, master?"

"Check the food," Harry ordered. "We're eating at the castle today."

"If it's poisoned, then it's not with anything I recognize," the elf reported. "I'd advise you to let the children eat for a few minutes before you start yourself, I'll keep an eye out to see if any of them begin to show any symptoms." She regarded the food with a curled lip. "I would also advise you to have me bring a packed lunch unless you'd rather trudge back to the keep for your mid-day meal."

"Do it," Harry agreed. He'd served in several armies, he'd spent time in prison, he'd served on ships, he'd attended the mage's academy, he'd lived on the streets, he'd thought he knew what bad food was until he'd arrived at Hogwarts. Bland, fatty, and boring was the order of the day. "Never thought I'd long for a good fat rat," he mused.

"They are quite good with the correct spices, Master," Min agreed. "Perhaps it would be best to skip a meal, master? I picked up some local ingredients that look promising."

"Oh, like what?" Harry asked, curious about what his Drow would consider promising local goods.

"Several new varieties of mushroom, some bright red berries with the most marvelous burning taste, and a strange animal covered in needles. Other than that, master, we still have enough stores to last two dozen men through a protracted siege."

Neither noticed the curious frown that appeared on a young bushy haired girl as she listened to them speak. In the coming weeks, neither would notice the attention that same bushy haired girl paid to Harry's Drow assistant. But none of that is important, not yet anyway.

Harry spent the next few days in a blissful haze of study. The new magic system seemed to be a fascinating blend of sorcery and normal wizardry, but the energy was totally different. His head spun as he tried to think of a way to classify it. Everything was so . . . so . . . spells that should have been monstrously difficult were being taught to children. Other spells, similar to simple cantrips, weren't taught till the seventh year. It is therefore unsurprising that Harry approached his potions class with a sense of eager anticipation, an anticipation that couldn't compare to his servant's.

"Please hurry, Master," Min begged. "I would like to get a seat at the front of the room." And she was fairly sure that he wouldn't allow her to evict any children stupid enough to take her preferred spot. "Do you think the professor will teach us how to make a deadly poison on the first day?"

"I wouldn't expect it," Harry replied. "That seems like the sort of thing they'd save for later." More's the pity, he could have used a couple deadly poisons the last time he was this age.

They claimed their seats and did not have long to wait until the resident Potions Master swept into the room.

"Welcome to potions, one of the most rewarding and difficult subjects taught at Hogwarts." Snape allowed his gaze to sweep the room. "It is here that I will attempt to teach you an art in which the slightest mistake could turn a benign sleeping potion into the deadliest poison."

"Looks like you might be in luck, Min," Harry whispered to his excited servant.

"Ah, Mr. Potter. Our latest celebrity," Snape purred, giddy at the chance to give the insults he'd spent so much time practicing. At least an hour in the mirror every night before bed, one of the benefits of having no social life to speak of was that it gave him a lot of time for other things.

"Damn bards," Harry interrupted. "A pox on all of them." Harry fingered the hilt of his dagger, he disliked them in the best of times. What he'd heard since he'd arrived back in his home dimension had inspired him to levels of fury that were almost biblical in proportion.

"I . . . what?" Snape stared at the boy. "What bards?"

"The bastards that have been spreading that cock and bull story about surviving a death curse," Harry replied hotly. "Whoever first came up with that stupid story had better pray to their god that I don't find out their identity or we'll find out just how long they can live without their skin."

"Uh . . ." things weren't going the way he'd planned, time to improvise. "What kind of potion would you use to cure a broken arm?"

"Mid-level healing potion after setting the bone," Harry replied automatically. "Assuming you don't have a healer of some sort with you already."

"What's in a mid-level healing potion?" for that matter, what in the hell was a mid-level healing potion?

"Not so good at brewing them myself," Harry admitted. "Never was my subject and since then I've always had someone to make them for me. Min." He held out his hand.

"Here you are, master." She handed the boy a glowing green vial of viscus liquid which was promptly passed off to Snape.

Snape popped off the cap and gave an experimental sniff. "I don't know this potion," he muttered. Distracted, the man took the vial back to his desk for a bit of rigorous testing.

They spent the next half hour watching Snape conduct test after test while muttering excitedly to himself until Harry checked his new watch, something he thought was an amazing device. "Time for us to go to the next class, Min."

"But master, he didn't even teach us how to make any poisons," the elf whined. It wasn't fair, she'd looked forward to the class so much.

"On the board," Snape spoke up absently, still totally focused on the potion in his hands. "Stir clockwise and you get a boil remover, stir the other way and it will cause you a horrible death if you ingest it. You can counteract the effects with oil of cloves."

Min carefully copied down the instructions before accompanying Harry to the next class. She loved Potions.

To the drow's intense (and vocal) disappointment, none of the other classes were nearly as instructive as their first Potions lesson. Harry on the other hand, was fascinated by transfigurations.

"Wonderful." Harry clapped in appreciation after Minerva's demonstration. "How long did it take you to learn to transform yourself into a house cat?"

"Two years," the Professor replied. "And it's not something I'd advise any of you to try doing until at least fifth year, seventh would be better."

"How did you chose what creature's form to take, can you take other forms, how long can you stay transformed?"

"The house cat is my inner animal, I did not choose it. I am unable to transfigure myself into other forms by that method. I can remain in the form of a house cat as long as I like," Minerva rattled off the answers. "Was there anything else?"

"Is there any way of detecting transformed persons and if so, is there any way I could convince you to drop by the house later to put up some of those protections?"

"There is a spell I can teach you later," Minerva replied. "It will take me some time before I could find the right wards, that's more Albus' area than mine."

"Drop by anyway," Harry offered smoothly. "I've got a few ideas I'd like to get your input on."

"Seven good for you?" Minerva asked, trying to keep her voice professional.

"Perfect," Harry agreed.

Minerva spent a few minutes making sure the students had enough theory shoved down their throats before moving onto her next demonstration and the practical portion of the lesson.

"How long does the transfiguration last?" Harry asked eagerly.

"It can last up to a year depending on the amount of power put into it and the skill of the person performing the transfiguration," Minerva replied. "For non living material anyway, living is a bit more complex."

"You can transfigure living material?" Harry asked in shock, he hadn't gotten his first polymorph spell till his third year in the academy.

"Easily," Minerva agreed. "We'll start next week."

"I look forward to it." Harry pulled out his wand and got to work, this new system of magic was different enough that being an apprentice again was fascinating.

Harry was still considering the implications of his transfiguration lesson later that day when his lunch was interrupted by the self styled 'Prince of Slytherin'.

"Think you're so great, don't you?" Draco growled with a deep sneer.

"What do you want?" Harry didn't bother looking up, he did however put a restraining hand on his Drow's thigh under the table, saving the boy's life.

"Let's see how brave you are tonight." Draco smirked. "Meet me in the trophy room at midnight."

"Why would I want to do that?" Harry looked up from his boxed lunch.

"For a duel," Draco blustered. "Unless you're a coward."

"Make it the edge of the Forbidden Forest," Harry replied. "I'd rather not go up all those stairs to the trophy room."

"Fine," Draco spat. The boy spun on his heel and stalked back to his table.

"Are you going to bother showing up, Master?"

"I'll put up a few wards to tell me if young Draco decides to make an appearance," Harry replied. "I see no reason to be out in the cold waiting for him."

"You don't think he will show?"

"Do you?" Harry countered.

"No, master. If he thought he could defeat you in a duel then he would want witnesses," she replied. "You think he'll send a group of assassins?"

"I think he'll send a teacher," Harry laughed. "He's just a child."

"I wasn't more than twenty years old when I hired my first assassin," the Drow huffed. Barely out of diapers in her race's terms.

"Not all of us are as advanced as you are," Harry soothed the angry elf.

"How old were you, master?" she challenged.

"About the same age, didn't have the money to hire assassins before that and had to do all my killing myself."

"Much more satisfying that way, master," she agreed.

"More work too."

Several hours later, Harry looked up from a book as the wards he'd placed at what was to be the site of his duel alerted him to a breech.

"Looks like young Draco did decide to send a teacher," Harry said with a grin.

"Should have come with his shadows to try to jump you," Min critiqued.

"Doubt he had the nerve to do anything with you around," Harry murmured. "He's not suicidal."

"True." The Drow preened a bit. "Not one of the primitives in this castle is a match for a being of my stature, master."

"Watch out for the professors," Harry advised as he went back to his book. "Masters of a strange discipline of magic are always something to be wary of."

"Yes, master," she agreed. "If there's trouble, which ones would you recommend we kill first?"

"Flitwick and Dumbledore in that order," Harry replied. "The Potions master and Minerva would be my second two, Minerva first maybe?" He scratched his chin, looked like he had some planning to do. "We'll talk about it later, after we've had a chance to gather more information."

Life at Hogwarts quickly fell into a routine of classes and childish taunts from his 'rival' Draco. That routine was broken after a few weeks when the Defense Professor ran into the Great Hall and breathlessly delivered a warning.

"Troll in the castle!" the Professor screamed. "I thought you'd like to know." His message delivered, the man passed away in a dead faint.

"Wake him up, Min," Harry ordered.

"He's not out, master," the woman purred. "His breathing hasn't changed." Not to mention the way the bastard had fallen, it was like he had no pride as an actor at all.

"Then kick him till he gets up," Harry amended. "I want to know where this troll is."

It only took three broken ribs and a punctured lung before the man was willing to come to long enough to reveal the troll's last location. A couple more kicks to the head put him back out, for real this time, and several more dramatically improved the Drow's mood. The best time to kick someone was when they were down.

"Do you wish to take care of the troll yourself, master?" Min asked curiously and a bit worried that he would consider such a thing without being well compensated in advance.

"I wish to watch the fight," Harry replied. It would be an excellent chance to study the combat tactics of the native mages. "Be sure to snag us some snacks and drinks."

"I shall, master," she agreed in relief, that sounded more like her master.

Harry ignored the pandemonium erupting around him as he strolled out of the Great Hall to observe how the local magic users dealt with vermin in their castles. It didn't take long for them to find their quarry.

The troll took a good hard look at the young boy calmly drinking a tasty beverage out of a tall glass and his Drow servant before an atavistic shudder racked his frame and he quickly decided that he wanted no part of the pair. With a subdued bellow, it carefully backed down the hall and around the corner.

"Do you hear sobbing?" Min asked.

"They don't make trolls like they used to," Harry sighed. "Let me tell you about this troll I ran into when I was first starting out, he had a club made out of a hundred year oak and arms as big around as a wagon wheel."

"No, master, I mean do you hear sobbing coming from that door?"

"See what it is," Harry ordered.

"Then we can get back to your story, master," Min agreed. She walked into the bathroom and found a small girl sobbing her eyes out. "Why are you crying?" the Drow demanded.

"R . . . Ron Weasley c-called me a know it all with no friends," Hermione sobbed.

"So?" Min fought down the urge to slap the girl. "If someone crosses you, you don't get mad or upset."

"What do you do then?" Hermione asked as she wiped away her tears and realized the fearless young woman who hung around Potter was the one talking to her, the woman that was everything Hermione aspired to be. Beautiful, intelligent, and presumably magically powerful or else they'd have never assigned her to be the bodyguard of the boy-who-lived.

"You get even, you make them pray for death and curse the moment they crossed you," Min replied matter of factly. "Understand?"

"B-but the rules..."

"Is Dumbledore not the master of this school? Do you think he got the position because he was weak? All that matters is how strong and smart you are. The purpose of rules is to provide a challenge to enforcing your will on others without getting caught breaking them. The more complicated the rules the smarter you have to be, otherwise we'd have morons for leaders." Min shook her head in disgust, why in the hell hadn't the child already learned this from her parents?

"I understand," Hermione agreed, a smile formed on the girl's face as she contemplated what she could . . . no would do to the ginger haired bastard. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it." Min waved off the girl's thanks. "Now, you should probably be running along. There's a troll loose in the castle and we wouldn't want you to be killed before you could get your vengeance now would we?"

Hermione gave a terrified squeak before darting off down the hall in the direction of the Gryffindor tower.

"Thank god I was never like that," Harry laughed.

"Oh?" They began walking down the hall after the troll. "I always pictured you as the bookish type at that age."

"I was fresh off the streets and in the guild the last time I was this age," Harry reminisced. "There was this crazy old drunk named . . . Gino, I think, who liked to disappear young boys. Sometimes they'd end up with their throats cut in the sewer, sometimes they'd end up gelded and sold into slavery. Well after he was done with them and on the occasions that he had enough self control to remember that they were valuable to other people."

"Gino take an interest in you?"

"The look of shock on his face when I slid my two copper dagger into his kidney was priceless," Harry's laughter filled the hallway. "And the gold in his pockets payed my admission fee to the guild. Memories."

He'd been half tempted to geld Gino himself and sell him into slavery, profit and irony were a winning combination. In the end, he'd decided he liked the idea of not leaving a live enemy behind more than he'd liked the thought of a couple extra coppers and a good laugh. The watch had found Gino at the bottom of a cess pit with his own genitals shoved in his mouth the following year. It had been a far too advanced state of decomposition for anyone to make an identification by then, not that anyone would have cared to.

"Bet they weren't happy to find out you weren't some merchant or nobleman's son who could bribe his way through, master?" Min giggled, adding her lyrical laughter to his.

"Not especially," Harry agreed. "Lucky they couldn't kick me out when I was at the top of the class."

"The other students didn't get angry you were showing them up, master?" It's what would have happened in Drow society, the number two would be measuring the number one's back for a dagger, the number three the number two, and so on.

"They couldn't do anything about it. None of them had the power to knock me down or a large enough bribe to make it worth my while, youth." Pity their parents hadn't given them more pocket money, would have certainly made his life more comfortable.

"Wasted on the young, master," Min agreed.

"Fortunate for us that we got it back," Harry pointed out. "I . . ." the familiar sound of someone screaming in horrible pain cut him off. "Think we had better catch up to that troll if we want to see any of the fight."

They arrived to find the Head of Hufflepuff House on the ground with the troll looming over her, club raised to deliver a lethal strike.

"Damn." A sudden thought occurred, cementing Harry's next action. He muttered a few words under his breath and a bolt of lightning sprang from the tips of his fingers to strike the troll, saving the Herbology Professor's life. "Check the troll."

"Still alive, master," Min reported as a dagger appeared in her hand.

"Don't kill it!" Harry said quickly.

Min shot the boy a look of utter confusion. "Master?"

"Trolls regenerate," Harry explained with a grin.

"I'm afraid that I still don't understand, master," Min said in shame. He had a look on his face that hinted at something good.

"That's because you grew up in a noble house," Harry laughed. "Troll parts should be worth quite a bit to the right buyers. If we've got a living troll, then we can harvest the same parts over and over again thanks to its ability to regenerate."

The drow gave a startled squeak. Every time she thought she had her master pegged, he'd do something like this to remind her why she'd stayed with him.

"Like it, then?"

"It's brilliant, master," she bubbled.

"Take its arms off at the shoulders and its legs off at the hips," Harry ordered. He looked down at the fallen Professor. "We can discuss what you owe me for saving your life later."

"I've got a couple plants that you might want to cultivate around that keep of yours," Sprout wheezed. "They eat intruders and they can be harvested for valuable potions ingredients."

"That'll do," Harry agreed. "Finished, Min?"

"I am, Master."

"Good, let's get it to the dungeon before its limbs regenerate."

"Yes, master."

To Harry's intense disappointment, the troll did not show any signs of regeneration, no matter what they did to encourage it, it stubbornly refused to heal itself. In the end, he decided to cut his losses.

"Try not to damage it too much, we can still sell parts of it if they're in good enough condition," Harry said after a moment of thought. "And have fun."

"I will, master," she giggled as she skipped down the stairs to end the very unfortunate troll. Perhaps she could harvest the parts of it while it was still alive? Maybe make a game of it, see how much of the creature she could render before it died. The Drow girl grinned, sometimes the best games were the simplest, a pity she didn't have one of her sisters here so she could share it with them.

IIIIIIIIII

The Gryffindor first year boys were awoken early the next morning by a high pitched scream followed soon by two more and then a gurgle. Slowly, cautiously, they crept out of their bunks to investigate. What they found would chill them to the bone.

Ron was trembling uncontrollably in a puddle of his own filth; his lips were stained with vomit and his sheets were soiled by the fluids he'd been expelling from both ends. An almost visible miasma of tainted air contaminated the space around the boy's bunk and was slowly creeping to befoul the rest of the room.

Surprisingly, it was Neville that spurred the others into action. Motivated mostly by his desire to get away from the hideous stench, he had a flash of inspiration. "You get Madame Pomfrey, I'll get McGonagall." Without another word, the boy rushed out of the room and into the fresh air the rest of the castle promised.

IIIIIIIIII

Minerva arrived to find that the school Healer had beaten her to the scene, people joked that Poppy could outrun lightning when there was a medical emergency.

"What's wrong with him?" Minerva asked in concern.

Poppy shook her head in wonder. "I don't know," the healer admitted. "Whoever did this is . . . I don't even know how they did this."

"Did what?" McGonagall prompted.

"They somehow managed to put two hundred low level hexes on the boy, what's more they got the hexes to . . . meld together, for lack of a better term." Poppy couldn't take her eyes off the prone form of Ronald Weasley. "My god, it looks like they're all feeding off his magic to power themselves. Fascinating."

"What do I tell his family?"

"That he angered the wrong person," Poppy replied absently. "Fascinating," she repeated.

"Can you fix him?" McGonagall decided to cut to the chase.

"I've already called for specialists from St. Mungos," Poppy replied, avoiding the question.

IIIIIIIIII

Hermione wasn't sure why but the breakfast the school served seemed especially good that morning until she realized that the news that her vengeance had been successful had proved to be the perfect accompaniment, the most succulent spice. When her meal had finished, she closed her eyes and listened to the students gossiping about the fate of Ronald Weasley, the boy who'd been foolish enough to call her names. The feeling was wonderful, almost addicting.

When the students began leaving the table, Hermione decided that it was time to put her next plan into action. Gathering up her things, she walked to the main entrance and found a comfortable place to wait for her prospective mentor to return to the school.

One second after the door opened to admit Harry and his shadow, Hermione was by their side.

"Is there something I can help you with?" Harry asked curiously.

"I'd like to talk to Min for a bit in private," Hermione replied to the boy. She turned a worshipful gaze on the elf. "If you've got a minute."

"Master?" the elf asked, not sure what to do.

"Do what you like," Harry replied. "I'll wait for you outside the charms classroom if you want to speak with her."

"I'll be there soon, master," Min promised. She looked down at the girl. "What do you want?"

"I wanted to get some more lessons from you," Hermione replied. "I avenged myself on Weasley for saying I didn't have any friends like you told me."

"Good, what did you do to him?" The Drow folded her arms, at least one of the human brats had some sense.

"Nothing much," Hermione admitted. "I don't know much magic yet, so I just cast every hex and curse I could find on him."

"They won't interfere with each other will they? Sometimes it's better to take your time no matter how satisfying a quick vengeance would be, it's always far more satisfying to have a thorough vengeance no matter how long it may take," Min advised.

"I figured out how to get them to work together," Hermione said with a blush.

Min regarded the girl for a moment before coming to a sudden decision. "Give me your notes later and I will ask my master to give his opinion. He is much more knowledgeable about magic than I am."

"Why do you call him master?" Hermione asked, a bit confused on why such a strong woman would demean herself in such a way.

"Because he is my master, I am his in every way," the Drow replied.

"But . . . but slavery is wrong," the girl sputtered. "How could you let him keep you like that?"

"Wrong?" Min's eyes narrowed. "Is not my master the strongest of them all?" She demanded. "Does he not have great skill at arms and magic?"

"I suppose," Hermione agreed. "But it's still not right to make you his slave."

"It is the natural right of the strong to dominate the weak," Min retorted. "As you grow, you will learn that there are two types in the world; the powerful and their slaves. My master is strong, perhaps the strongest, therefore I am his by right of conquest. There is no shame in submitting to those you can not overcome so long as the one you submit to is a worthy master such as my own. Do you understand?"

"The strong controlling the weak is natural law," Hermione stated uncertainly.

"Exactly," Min agreed. "Why is it that your parents have not already given you these lessons?"

"They don't spend a lot of time with me," Hermione admitted. "Always busy with other things."

"I see." A shame the girl had gotten so old without learning the true ways of the world, she had such potential.

"Will you teach me?" Hermione asked hopefully.

IIIIIIIIII

Ron had been moved into the Hospital Wing by the time specialists from St. Mungos had arrived. The Healers immediately clustered around Ron's bed, casting a variety of diagnostic charms.

"If you look, the flatulence hex is tied to the incontinence hex, which in turn is tied to the bladder control curse. Removing one would cause the other two to go out of control. Amazing," the St. Mungos' healer murmured. "Truly amazing."

"We've got an article in the Lancet for sure," Poppy murmured. "Possibly a book."

"Do we know the caster?" one of the other Healers asked.

Poppy shook her head. "No, but I do have a couple of suspects."

"Talk the Head of House into offering amnesty and anonymity if the perpetrator steps forward," the Chief Healer suggested.

IIIIIIIIII

Minerva hadn't liked it, but she'd eventually agreed to the Healer's idea of offering an amnesty if the guilty party, or parties, were willing to explain what they'd done. She heard a knock on the door.

"Come in," Minerva called out.

"You wanted to speak with us, Professor?" George asked.

"Yes, sit down," Minerva agreed. "Do you know why I've called you here?"

"For once, we can honestly say no," Fred replied.

"Don't even have anything in the planning stage," George agreed. "Well-"

"-aside from stealing a toilet seat for our sister," Fred admitted.

"So you're saying that you had nothing to do with the fact that your younger brother is stuck in the hospital wing?" Minerva said sharply. "Boys, I'm going to offer you a deal. Come clean and explain how you did what you did and I'll be willing to forgo punishment this time."

"Wasn't us, Professor-" George said.

"-really," Fred agreed. "Can see how you'd think it was."

"Wish we could take credit, but we really are innocent this time," George admitted, looking embarrassed by the fact.

"Got an idea of who it might ha' been though," Fred added.

"Who?" Minerva asked.

"Can't say-"

"-professional ethics, you know."

The twins glanced at each other in silent communication for a few moments before a decision was reached.

"We'll ha' a talk with our suspect," George offered.

"Providing you let us look at the Healer's notes," Fred said quickly. "Copies would be better."

"Always good to bring something to trade when you want something from someone," George explained.

"I'll see what I can do," Minerva said, lips pursed.

"Thanks, Professor," the twins replied.

"Regarding that toilet seat," Minerva growled. "I absolutely forbid you from stealing the one from the toilet in the west corridor by the old Astronomy tower."

"Alright, Professor," the twins agreed.

"And be sure to wash it first, don't want your sister catching anything, do you?" Minerva added.

IIIIIIIIII

Min walked into the room and knelt before her master's throne, then bowed down to press her forehead to the carpet.

"What do you want?" Harry asked calmly. The follow up question would have been, what did you do?

"I have brought something I wish you to examine, master," Min replied.

"Get up and hand it over," Harry ordered.

"Yes, master." She handed him a thick stack of parchment. "Notes on a small matter of vengeance, master."

"Very neat handwriting," Harry murmured as he began glancing through them. "Interesting, very interesting." He looked up and met his elf's eyes. "Get me paper and something to write with."

"Yes, master," she agreed, hurrying to fetch the items. "Have I brought you something of value?"

"Possibly," Harry allowed. He looked through the notes, occasionally making a notation or comment on the paper Min had brought. "Whoever thought this up did a good job, what year were they in?"

"First, master," Min replied.

"Scion of a great house?"

"I do not believe so, master. I can find out."

Harry considered his servant for a few minutes. "Keep an eye on this one."

"Master?" This was not how she expected him to act.

"Your new pet has potential, depends on if she thought this up herself or had help." The thought that his drow would lower herself to aid a male never crossed his mind. "So keep an eye on her and bring me news if she does anything else interesting."

"Yes, master. Have I pleased you?" She licked her lips.

"You have, but it will still be a couple years till I can show you how much," he said regretfully.

"Yes, master." The drow drooped a bit, going through puberty the first time hadn't been fun. Going through it a second time was pure hell, especially now that she knew exactly what she was missing.

IIIIIIIIII

Hermione squeaked nervously when Gryffindor's most notorious pranksters took the chairs across from her in the library. This was one of those situations she'd read about, the kind that had the potential to go really really bad in a heartbeat.

"Got a minute?" the left twin asked.

"What do you want?" Hermione growled, hoping her voice hadn't betrayed the nervousness she was feeling about the confrontation with her victim's older brothers.

"To offer our congratulations," the right twin replied.

"Good prank you pulled on our brother," the left agreed. "Bit harsh, but sometimes you got to be harsh."

"No helping it," right twin said sagely.

Hermione chose to remain silent, confining her response to a sharp glare modeled after the one she'd seen her Head of House use the day before.

"Also thought we'd pass on a message," Left twin said suddenly. "McGonagall is offering amnesty if the perpetrator steps forward."

"So you know," right twin added. "We'd also like a look at your notes sometime."

"And we'd be happy to give peek a look at ours in return," left twin offered. The two twins stood up. "Glad we could have this chat."

"Come to us if our brother starts acting like a berk again," right twin said.

"We'll sort 'im out for you, no problem," the left promised.

Hermione's thoughts were whirling, what should she do? She really needed to speak with Min, there was no one else she could think of that would be both willing and able to explain what was going on.

IIIIIIIIII

Minerva took a moment to straighten up her robes before using the door knocker to announce her presence.

"The master of the keep is waiting for you on the second level," Harry's big nosed porter said. "Just go up the stairs."

"Thank you," Minerva replied. She brushed past the man and walked up the stairs.

"Minerva," Harry said with a smile. "Glad you could make it."

"I did promise," the woman replied. "I'd also like to get your opinion on something."

"Of course," he agreed. "Min, food." He turned back to Minerva. "What is it you'd like me to look at?"

"I have a student in the hospital under a very interesting set of hexes," Minerva replied. She handed the boy a file. "Here's the healer's report."

"Interesting," Harry muttered. "What would you like me to do?"

"I'd appreciate any input you could give," Minerva replied.

"Potentially quite a bit," Harry admitted. "Is the boy's life in any immediate danger?"

"It is not," Minerva replied. "The healers are mystified and I'm looking for solutions wherever I can find them." She laughed. "I've even been persuaded to offer amnesty to the perpetrator."

"I see." Harry rubbed his chin. "Give me twenty four hours and I'll see what I can do for you."

"Thank you, Harry."

"Happy to help, Minerva."

IIIIIIIIII

Hermione was waiting by the front door for Min to arrive the next morning, anxious to speak with her mentor about the encounter with the Weasley twins the previous day.

The Drow smiled when she saw her new pet. "Master, may I have a moment?"

"Take as long as you like," Harry agreed. "Transfigurations today."

"I shall return to your side as quickly as possible, master," Min promised. She walked up to the girl. "You wish to speak with me?"

"I do," Hermione agreed. "Something happened yesterday."

"Oh?"

Hermione relayed the details of the previous day's encounter. "So what do you think?" she finished.

"It is only natural that they thank you," Min laughed. "You have done them a great favor by pointing out a weakness in their bloodline. It is still possible that they will seek to punish you, just to drive home the idea that their family is not to be trifled with. But for the moment, I would assume their offer of alliance to be genuine."

"I guess that makes sense," Hermione agreed. "Thank you, Min."

"It is nothing. For now, I have a couple questions to ask you on behalf of my master. The first, did you have any aid when you crafted your vengeance?"

"No, I did all the work myself." Hermione's shoulders drooped. "Ron was right about me not having any friends."

"Spare no thought to those who are beneath you," Min advised. "Your Head of House came to my master last night and expressed admiration for the job you did on your foe."

"She did?" Hermione asked, disbelief coloring her features.

"Of course. She has also offered a general amnesty for your actions." Min smiled at the look on the girls face. "Did I not tell you that rules were obstacles to filter the weak from the strong?"

"I didn't realize she'd be so open about it," Hermione admitted.

"It just goes to show how impressed she was," Min explained. "My master has suggested that you avoid revealing your role at this point in time. I would advise that you follow my master's suggestion."

"What should I do then?" Hermione asked.

"My master has asked you to devise a cure for what you did to the Weasley. He is curious to see if you have the ability or if your previous work was a fluke."

"How long do I have?" Hermione asked.

"The amount of time you need is part of the test," Min replied. "Impress my master we will go to the next step."

"Okay," Hermione agreed. "I . . . I'll try to have something done by lunch."

"You must also construct the cure in the same way you constructed your vengeance, without drawing attention to yourself. You must use obscurity to avoid notice of the other students, marking yourself as a significant threat at this stage could potentially be a very bad thing. The weaker powers may seek to eliminate you before you are able to work your way into a position where you could become a threat to them," Min advised.

IIIIIIIIII

Harry was in his second class of the day, History of Magic, when one of the Gryffindor Prefects stuck her head in and called him out into the hall.

"Yes?" he asked, unnerving the older girl with his too calm eyes.

"Headmaster wants to speak with you in his office," the girl replied. "Password is ceveo. Do you know how to get there?"

"I do not," Harry replied.

"This way," she said, setting off in a brisk pace.

"Come along, Min," Harry said.

"Right behind you, master."

It did not take long to reach their destination and, to the Prefect's consternation, Harry spent several minutes examining the gargoyle before he was willing to go up the stairs to his meeting.

"You called?" Harry asked neutrally, glancing at the unfamiliar blond man.

"Yes," Dumbledore agreed. "This is Lucius Malfoy," Dumbledore introduced the man.

"Young Draco's father?" Harry asked.

"I am," Lucius confirmed.

"Wonderful son you've got," Harry said grandly. "His schemes are a bit simplistic, but you can't really expect much from them at that age."

"What?" Lucius said dumbly.

"Little scamp tried to use a fake duel to lure me out of my bed after curfew so that the staff would get me," Harry explained with a grin. "Pretty good for a child."

"Yes, well . . ." Lucius trailed off as he remembered the reason for his visit. "I'm told you have a house elf named Min. Something forbidden by the Hogwarts rules and regulations. The penalty for breaking them is confiscation or expulsion."

"Just how old is that rule?" Harry countered.

"I believe that the ink should be dry in a few minutes," Lucius replied.

"Ha! Please tell me that was Draco's plan," Harry begged.

"The basics of it," Lucius agreed, a bit put off by how things were going. "It's a bit less ambitious then the one he gave me . . ."

"But you also have less power then he thinks you do," Harry finished. "Thinking their father is the best and most powerful man in the world is a commonly held belief in sons, at least sons with decent fathers."

"Thank you." Lucius inclined his head. "What is your choice?"

"What choice?"

"Expulsion on confiscation," Lucius persisted.

"Neither," Harry replied. "I don't have a house elf."

"You do have an elf, do you not?"

"I do."

"Then I fail to see how you're going to get out of this without . . ."

"Ah, but she's not my house elf," Harry interjected.

"What is she then?"

"She's my bed elf," Harry replied with a grin.

"Was and will be again, master," Min spoke up.

Lucius jumped when the figure seemed to materialize out of the shadows behind him.

"It doesn't take you humans that long to mature, does it?" she asked hopefully.

"I should be good to go in two or three years," Harry assured her. " Now back to the business at hand. The appropriate response for this should be … Min?" Harry asked.

"Flensing of the penis, using shards of bone removed from the corpses of everyone he ever loved, followed by having his heart ripped out while we send his soul screaming to the abyss," Min said thoughtfully, knowing that Harry had only asked her opinion so she could make an impression.

Malfoy's eyes widened and his grip tightened on his cane.

"Dear, think subtle opening move in a dominance game between friends or relatives... He is my cousin after all."

"Oh!" Min smiled. "Kidnap his second favorite concubine and serve her to him at a dinner held in his honor."

Harry opened his mouth and paused, "OK that one is tempting, but I was thinking of something a tad more friendly ... So I win of course, but so it looks like Lucius won to Draco, after all we do want to encourage the boy."

Lucius wasn't sure what to think, Harry Potter was nothing like what he expected. Facing Potter was like facing a more thoughtful Voldemort with a sense of humor and his elf made Bellatrix look like Professor Sprout.

Harry spoke a word that made Lucius wince, as it seemed to drill straight through his ears and into his brain, bypassing his occlumency shields. "Cousin? Give me one of your house elves," Harry said and Lucius, who was able to throw off the Imperious curse, found he couldn't resist.

"Dobby," Lucius commanded and with a pop a small greenish brown creature resembling a brownie arrived.

"Yes's, Master Malfoy?" the creature dressed in rags asked.

"You are now, Harry Potter's elf."

Dobby's eyes widened in wonder.

"And since the Malfoys have recently passed a law saying a house elf cannot legally be owned by a Hogwarts student I must regretfully let you go. I'm sure working for Hogwarts will be fulfilling," Harry promised.

"Nicely done, Master," Min said with a smirk. "He tried to take away your house elf so you cost him one of his, but he can tell Draco that he gave you an elf, because Malfoys always win even if they have to pay the cost themselves. A little speech about thinking Draco is mature enough to handle you without help and we should expect to see a marked improvement from your cousin's usual plans."

IIIIIIIIII

Hermione was bouncing up and down with excitement when she found Min ten minutes after lunch period had started.

"Figured it out?" the Drow asked.

"Yeah," Hermione agreed. "I think I also figured out a way to make it look like he was cured but to keep the hexes dormant. If I'm right, I could bring them back any time I wanted."

"Good work," Min complimented the girl. "I would suggest keeping that in reserve for the time being until after you perfect it."

"Okay," Hermione agreed.

"Go to lunch, enjoy your meal, I will take your notes to my master."

IIIIIIIIII

Narcissa entered the sitting room and was surprised that Lucius was sitting there nursing a firewhiskey. The bottle was still about three quarter full, but their open bottle had at best been half full yesterday. While both of them enjoyed a glass or two in the evening, it was very unusual for Lucius to drink more. In fact he hadn't since the Dark Lord lost.

Lucius looked at her. "Can you bear another heir?"

She looked at him wide eyed. They had agreed before their marriage that one child was enough; neither of them had looked forward to it or enjoyed that time. Even now Draco was a hindrance occasionally.

Why would he want more? That didn't make sense. "Dobby, a glass." She sat in the chair opposite her husband.

"He's gone."

"Draco?" Lucius seemed to calm for that, but what else could he mean?

"Dobby. Draco told me that Potter had an elf and that I should confiscate it; the plan wasn't that bad, but I forgot to check the facts. I have since had a long talk with Severus about Potter."

"Elsa, a glass." A house elf popped in and gave her a glass. Narcissa nodded and filled her glass. "So Dumbledore protected him? You should have expected that."

"Not Dumbledore." Lucius took a rather large sip; very unusual. He usually only did that if he'd been exposed to the Cruciatus.

"Potter's elf wasn't a house elf. It... She was as obedient, or at least appeared so, but looks far more human, with black skin. Her actions however were a lot more like your sister."

He took another sip. "At least in general terms. She's much more creative than Bellatrix. A tad less sadistic, but far more bloodthirsty."

Narcissa sipped as she considered that. "So Potter isn't the icon of the light everyone believes him to be."

Lucius actually laughed. "It was a lot like meeting the Dark Lord for the first time. I didn't know who he was back then. I couldn't help but notice the aura that surrounded him; it was warning everyone that he could and would crush anyone in his way. Potter is the same, maybe even worse. I didn't notice it until he actually turned it on me; he was amused by my attempt to punish him; he treated me like I was of no importance. I'm not sure even the Dark Lord could take him on alone."

"Are you sure you don't imagine things?" The Dark Lord was extraordinary powerful and skilled. For a child to be that powerful...

"His elf suggested they kill everyone I loved and then rip out my heart while they sent my soul to the abyss; and no, I don't believe she was lying or exaggerating. The intention wasn't there, I think, but I do not doubt they could have done it. Potter was actually tempted by her subtle idea to establish dominance in the family by kidnapping Sara and serving her to me at a feast they held in my honor. Honestly tempted."

Narcissa blinked. Twice. Then again. Then she emptied her glass. "Even the Dark Lord wouldn't do something like that!"

"Indeed. He then used something like the Imperius on me without even raising his wand, something far more powerful, and ordered me to give him Dobby; right in front of Dumbledore! And Draco seems to have decided that taunting Potter is his duty."

Narcissa sighed, "What did Severus say?"

"Potter has access to unknown magical potions, including some that will revolutionize medical potions, should Severus figure out how to brew them. He is fascinated by poisons and an expert at creating and handling them. Severus has no doubt that Potter can and has killed in cold blood."

"Can we remove him from school?"

"Potter? Not unless we want to die."

"I meant Draco."

"Difficult and expensive; both in money and prestige. I don't think he could take over the family in the future if we did that. Besides... Potter seems to enjoy his little schemes for the moment."

Narcissa sighed, "I'm not sure he ever could. So... a new heir."

"It seems necessary. Potter won't press the issue, but Draco..."

"He won't leave him alone. The boy was never satisfied with a partial success. He always wanted everything. A new heir." She sighed again. "I really didn't want to go through that twice."

"I will get the potions from Severus."

"Does it matter? A girl groomed to be Potter's mistress might be a better way to continue the line, if he is that powerful. Assuming he is interested in girls."

"He is. Far more so that the Dark Lord ever was. Perhaps you are right and we should let magic decide."

IIIIIIIIII

Alerted by the wards, Harry's eyes snapped open and he remained motionless for a moment to examine the nature of the alarm. His hand reached out to confirm that his Drow was by his side, time to give her a bit of fun.

"Min," he called out.

"I am awake, master," the drow replied softly.

"Why don't you go greet our guest?" he suggested.

"Yes, master."

"Be gentle," he called after her. "I want them to be able to talk."

"Would you also like them to be willing, master?" Min asked hopefully as she slipped out from between the silk sheets and pulled on a pair of boots.

"So long as you don't get too enthusiastic," Harry agreed, eyes on his servant. He hated to see her go, but he loved to watch her leave.

With a groan, Harry left the warmth of his covers and pulled on his clothing, topping it off with a maille shirt. It never hurt to be careful.

He'd just finished buckling on his belt and bollock dagger when his big nosed porter stole into the room.

"Your guest is ready to receive you, sir," Noodnik announced.

"Wonderful," Harry replied. "Feel free to go back to your rack, I doubt I'll have any more need of you tonight."

"Yes, sir," the big nosed porter agreed.

"One more thing."

"Sir?"

"There is an envelope on my desk, please deliver it to Minerva in the castle tomorrow morning," Harry ordered.

"Yes, sir."

Harry walked down the tapestried halls and descended his marble staircase to the main entry hall. 'Time to put up some new artwork,' he mused. The paintings he had up were starting to get a bit stale. Finally, he turned his attention to the reason he'd woken. He was less than pleased to see what his Drow had been up to.

"What did I say about damaging him?" Harry sighed.

"Not to damage him too much," the Drow replied. "And I didn't, master. I haven't even touched him." She did not like making that admission, hurt her pride, it did.

"If you didn't damage him, what caused the mess?" Harry demanded. A wave of his hand cleaned the intruder's soiled trousers and another wave removed the stench.

"He is aware of my people, master," Min answered, a bit annoyed at the man's instinctual terror, far more annoyed at the fact that she hadn't been the one to instill it.

"I see." Harry turned his stare on the man. "How do you know what she is?"

"Reputation, I've been told all about the black skinned elves," the man replied instantly. There was no way in hell that he was going to provoke a being, there was no way the thing before him was a mere boy, whom a Drow called master.

"You didn't have to do anything to make him willing to talk?" Harry asked.

"Nothing much, master," Min agreed. "I did amuse myself while waiting for you to arrive." Which hardly counted in her opinion, she'd been far gentler than her elder sisters had been the last time they'd cornered her for a bit of sport.

Harry noted the man's shudder. "Why are you here?" Harry waited three seconds. "Speak or I'll give you to her."

"I-I was s-sent to kill a boy named Harry P-Potter," the assassin quickly stuttered out.

"Give me one good reason why I should let you live." He had no intention of doing it, but it was always amusing to hear what they came up with and the possibility that they might let something valuable slip was one that could not be missed.

"Front breast pocket, I was told to leave the envelope on your corpse," the assassin replied quickly, his eyes locked on the dark figure by the boy's side.

Min leaned forward and planted her fist in the man's left kidney, then cut his pocket open, delivering the note to her master on the point of her dagger.

After a quick check for curses, Harry opened the envelope and read the letter.

"What is it, master?" Min asked, punching the man again.

"A note from cousin Lucius," Harry replied. "He says that assuming we take the assassin alive, that he's a gift for you." Harry reached down to take something off the floor and then tossed the Drow the tool roll that had been on the assassin's belt. "Along with these, he says that they're specially made for extracting teeth, eyes, and fingers. Guess you made quite an impression on him."

Harry locked eyes with the assassin, there was only one sentence given out in lands he controlled to assassins and thieves, that targeted him anyway. His eyes flicked from the man to his hopeful Drow. "Have fun."

"You said you wouldn't give me to her if I talked!" the assassin squealed. "You-oof!" Min punched the man in the stomach and shoved a dirty rag into his gaping mouth.

"Don't stay up too late, you might be having a rather busy day tomorrow if things work out," Harry said.

"Yes, Master." She reached down and dislocated the man's pinky finger, she just loved the way they felt when then popped in her hand, reminded her of childhood memories.

"Speaking of which, remind me to look through the potions books tomorrow," Harry commanded as he turned to leave.

"Yes, master," Min agreed.

"Another thing cousin Lucius mentioned in his note," Harry explained. "He says that there are a couple potions that can be used to temporarily gain a few years. Looks like you might go back to being my bed elf sooner than I thought you'd be."

"Please be sure to thank cousin Lucius for me, master," Min said happily, dislocating the man's other pinky. She grabbed a handful of the groaning man's hair and smashed his face into the stone floor a couple times to quiet him down a bit. The nerve of the bastard, making noise when she was trying to have a conversation with her master.

"Leave his head in recognizable condition," Harry order over his shoulder.

"Yes, master," the Drow agreed. She didn't like it, but she thought she understood her master's command. It was always best to have the message recognizable.

"Have a good night," Harry said as he walked up the stairs to his bedroom.

"Oh, I will, Master," Min agreed, using the point of her dagger to pry off one of the unfortunate man's kneecaps. Her victim screaming through his gag as she worked.

IIIIIIIIII

Noodnik walked into the Great Hall, to the Head Table, and handed an envelope to the Gryffindor Head of House the next morning.

"Compliments of my employer," Noodnik reported. His left hand shot out and snagged a handful of bacon from one of the trays.

"Thank you." Minerva scanned the message. "Poppy."

"Yes, Minerva?"

"Have a look at this." She handed the school nurse the note.

"Thank you." A smile bloomed on the woman's face. "Interesting."

"How long before Mr. Weasley is back in class?" Minerva asked.

"Monday if this is accurate," Poppy replied.

"The boss spent a few hours double checking it yesterday," Noodnik commented, cheeks bulging with purloined pork products.

"Be sure to thank your master for me," Minerva said warmly.

"Employer, ma'am," the hench corrected firmly. "I'm not like the Drow."

"No offense meant," Minerva said quickly. "I'd just assumed-"

"I stay with the boss because he pays well and takes it very personally when people try to kill his employees." As the Mayor of Peachtree had learned shortly before his horrible death, word tended to get around about things like that. "The drow has more complex reasons but they all boil down to the fact that she can't conceive of . . . well, a lot of things." He laughed. "Consequence of growing up where she did I suppose. To her, the world is divided into the strong and the weak and the weak are the rightful slaves of the strong." He wondered how the women would take it if he told them that, by Drow standards anyway, Min was considered hopelessly soft and demure.

IIIIIIIIII

Lucius was completely unsurprised when a package arrived just as he'd sat down to eat. He opened the box and looked down at the head of the assassin he'd hired. The man's eyes had been plucked out, his ears torn off, his lips stitched together, his nose crushed into an almost unrecognizable pulp, all while he was still alive judging by the frozen expression of pain and horror on what was left of what was left of the man's face.

"What's that, Lucius?" Narcissa asked.

"I sent Harry a message last night," Lucius spoke slowly. "This is his reply."

"What sort of message?" Narcissa asked with as much calm as she could muster. Her husband hadn't done something foolish, had he?

"I hired a third rate assassin and gave him a note," Lucius replied. "Harry sent back the man's head."

"I see." Narcissa unwound, sure that the boy knew the game well enough to take the gesture in the right way.

Lucius looked down and noticed that a scrap of paper protruding from one of the empty eye sockets. He carefully pulled it out and unrolled it.

"He's requesting another meeting," Lucius announced.

"What about?"

"It doesn't say," Lucius said. "Just that he'd like to have it as soon as is convenient for me."

"I suppose we could take that as a good sign," Narcissa said thoughtfully.

"I took the fact that we didn't wake up in his keep being tended by his elf as a good sign," Lucius replied with a rare grin. "Especially now that I've had a chance to see an example of her work. I'm going to take this as a great sign."

IIIIIIIIII

It wasn't hard to find Harry's Keep, not with Hogwarts' Potions Master as their guide. The large, well lit and apparently well protected path that led through the forest to the castle's gates helped too.

"Good luck, Lucius, Narcissa," Snape said as they stopped at the door.

"Thank you, Severus," Lucius replied. "You'll see to Draco if we do not return?"

"He'll be out of the country before nightfall," Snape promised. "I'll do everything I can to see to it that the Malfoy line will continue."

The Malfoys waited till their backup plan disappeared before they raised the knocker and waited for their host to appear.

"Yes?" The door was answered by a servant with a gigantic nose.

"We are here to meet with the master of the keep," Lucius replied, presenting his card.

"This way, sir."

They followed the man up two spiral flights of stairs, coming to a stop in front of a stout oak door.

"The Malfoy family to see you, sir," the big nosed servant announced.

"Send them in," was the muffled reply.

An older looking Harry stood up from his desk with a smile as they walked into his office.

"Cousin Lucius, I hadn't expected to see you so soon," Harry greeted the man. "And you must be Cousin Narcissa."

"I am," she agreed. "A bit closer than my husband through your paternal grandmother who was one of my paternal Aunts."

"Pleasure to meet you. Would either of you care for something to drink?" Harry wasn't surprised at the fact that he was related to both sides, he did apparently come from their society's noble class and inbreeding was one of the traditional ways to keep wealth and power in the family.

"Yes, please," Lucius agreed.

"Please," Narcissa echoed.

"Min!"

The door opened and the elf arrived with a bottle of wine and three glasses, a insufferably smug look on her face. She passed out several glasses and filled them, making sure to give a larger amount to the blonde haired man in thanks for the information he'd sent regarding the aging potions.

Harry waited until the wine was poured before turning to Lucius. "Thank you for coming, I hadn't expected to see you so soon."

"You wished to speak with me," Lucius stated cautiously, injecting as much courtesy into his tone as possible without sounding servile. "How could I possibly be so rude as to make my dear cousin wait on me?"

"Yes, two things. The first is a small issue I thought I'd bring to your attention," Harry agreed. "I'm afraid that young Draco is having a bit of trouble with his studies."

"Oh?" Lucius' voice wavered a bit. "How so?"

"I don't think it's the boy's fault," Harry assured the man. "Rather the environment in the school, nothing to it but to get him an instructor of some sort. I'd offer Min, but . . ."

"I already have a pet, master," Min interjected. She'd never thought it would be so rewarding to have a lesser creature depend upon you. It explained why her second sister was so fond of toads, and to think, at the time she'd assumed that the older girl was just milking them for their venom.

"The Gryffindor girl?" he prompted, trying to get confirmation.

"Yes, master," she agreed.

"Ah. I was more worried that you'd geld young Draco," Harry admitted and then she'd have been honestly confused on why'd he objected. He returned his attention to Lucius. "I'm afraid that I can not offer any suggestions for a tutor while he's at Hogwarts. I do have a couple potential summer programs you might wish to look at later, but I also understand that you may wish to keep the boy at home."

"Yes," Lucius sighed. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention."

"What's family for if not to help each other?" Harry grinned. His eyes flicked to his servant. "Family that is not competing at the moment."

Min closed her mouth. "Yes, master."

"What was the other issue?" Lucius asked.

"Do you know what the definition of an honest politician is?" Harry asked with a grin.

"Please enlighten me," Lucius replied.

"One that stays bought," Harry answered. "I'm afraid one of yours isn't honest."

"Who? How do you know?" Lucius asked, a flicker of rage lighting his eyes.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Really, cousin Lucius."

"You're right," Lucius agreed. "What would you like in trade?"

"Min, the letter." Harry smiled. "Nothing much, just a small favor."

"Might I have a bit of time with your servant, Cousin Harry?" Narcissa asked with a smile. "It will allow the two of you a bit of privacy while you talk business."

"Of course," Harry agreed. "Best behavior, Min."

"Of course, Master."

Harry waited until the women were gone before turning back to his cousin. "As I was saying . . ."

IIIIIIIIII

Narcissa focused on her breathing, keeping it calm and measured as she followed the other woman out of the room.

"What did you wish to speak with me about?" Min asked, staring at the much younger woman.

"Lucius and I have spoken about providing a consort for Harry," Narcissa said carefully. "Is this something you would object to?"

"Why would I?" Min frowned in confusion, perhaps it was a human thing?

"Some women do, though I confess that I don't understand it myself."

"When would you give us this consort?" Min asked intently.

"Sixteen or so years from now. I still need to arrange to get pregnant and I'm sure you have an idea of what sort of chore that can be."

"Not just a consort. You're hoping to deepen your house's ties to Master!" Min exclaimed, understanding at last.

"Correct," Narcissa agreed.

"Make your preparations. I shall speak with Master about it and inform you if he is displeased by the notion."

"Thank you." Narcissa reached into her pocket and pulled out a vial filled with a yellowish liquid. "A gift for you."

"What is it?"

"Forty liters of basilisk venom, a drop is enough to kill a hundred men." It was a good thing the beasts grew so large, or it would have taken decades to gather even half as much. "I had the command word to enlarge the vial engraved on to the cap."

Min took the vial with a smile. "How do you administer it?"

"Contact causes horrific burns and will eventually prove fatal after it burns through the skin and into the blood stream. Ingestion causes a similar reaction from the inside. Most people coat a weapon and administer it that way." Narcissa reached up and pulled out a hat pin. "This is my preferred method of delivery, though that is not my preferred poison. That one has no known cure."

"So?"

"So I'm not careful enough to be confident of my skill with a poison that I'm not immune to," Narcissa laughed. "Afraid that I'm just a dabbler."

"With Master's permission, why don't we agree to meet at some future date to compare notes?" Min suggested. "While I am a bit more than a dabbler, I lack local knowledge."

"With your master's permission, I agree," Narcissa stated, pleased almost beyond reason at how well the meeting was going.

"And as a favor between one enthusiast to another, your agent's plan to get your son out of the country would not have worked," Min confided. "That's assuming Master wouldn't have snapped him up before the meeting."

"Thank you," Narcissa said, mustering every ounce of control to avoid changing her expression. "Care to offer a bit of friendly advice?"

"What do you have in trade?"

IIIIIIIIII

Lucius' eyes were burning with rage as he poured over the evidence of treachery. It seemed that their esteemed Minister was a very naughty boy.

"I have some photos if you'd like to change from bribery to blackmail," Harry offered. "Not sure I would myself, but I thought I'd make the offer."

"I'll ruin the bastard before I kill him," Lucius growled.

"So you can use the photos," Harry said cheerfully. "Wonderful. Would have been a shame to let them go to waste."

"What do you want for them?" Lucius asked, forcing himself to lower his voice.

"Oh, nothing much," Harry said, taking a sip of his drink.

IIIIIIIIII

Fred and George were waiting outside the Hospital wing for their youngest brother on the day of his release.

"Come to gloat about your prank?" Ron asked sullenly, glaring at his two brothers from the moment he stepped out of the Hospital Wing and into the hall.

"Wasn't us, dear brother," George replied.

"What it was, is an important lesson for you," Fred agreed. "Do you know what that lesson is?"

"Or are you too thick?"

"Sod off!" Ron barked. He turned to walk away only to freeze at the feeling of two hands resting on each shoulder and the points of two wands digging into the back of his neck.

"Lesson one-"

"-don't insult people that can and will retaliate."

The world spun and Ron felt an itch all over his body. To the boy's surprise, he appeared to be on the castle's flagstone floor.

"Lesson two-"

"-some people aren't as nice as we are, this will wear off in a few minutes."

"You annoyed someone that's much less nice than we are and McGonagall had to do a lot of trading to cure you."

"Imagine she'd be quite put out if you were dumb enough to provoke them again."

"Imagine they might be more than a bit put out if you did too, perhaps enough to subtract one brother from the Weasley family."

"Which is why we had a talk."

Ron felt another hex begin to take effect, it felt like his stomach had done a backflip and his mouth tasted like . . . oh god, they didn't!

"We don't think we'd like to face mum if we let that happen to you, so we're going to be keeping a very close eye on you."

Ron's stomach rolled, he was going to throw up, oh please Merlin let him keep it down!

"Even Percy agrees, though he's going to take a different track. We're going to be watching you, if you pick on any student and we see it-"

"-this will seem like a pleasant memory."

"If Percy sees it, you'll have detention every day for the rest of the year, you'll lose so many points that Gryffindor won't be able to even think about having the cup again for a hundred years, and worse-"

"-he'll tell mum."

His stomach emptied, spraying acid out a very tender orifice and into his robes. The boy belched and gagged at the smell emanating from his mouth.

"We'll just leave you here to think about what you did, shall we?"

"I believe we shall," the other twin agreed. "I'm glad the three of us were able to have this talk, Ron."

"See to it that we never have to repeat it," the first twin finished ominously.

Ron crawled back into the Hospital Wing to the sounds of his brother's repeating footsteps. Some days, it just didn't pay to be him.

AN: Been meaning to throw this out into the world for a while, figured that I may as well do it today. In this story, Min goes from the elven equivalent of about 18 to maybe 14 or 15. If I continue it at some point, I'm going to have to remember to let slip that she was enslaved and given to Harry by one of her brothers, the nicest one.

Polish by: dogbertcarroll

Scenes by: dogbertcarroll, Drake

Ideas by: dogbertcarroll, polychromeknight

Typos by: dogbertcarroll, polychromeknight, Dave Gerecke, laros_deejay, Jim Trigg, Tommy King, Stick97, Mark, Ciaran, lucindas43302, alexcorvin1980, Cheral Rallock, Lucinda Siverling

(In short, a lot of help from dogbertcarroll, polychromeknight, and everyone else on my yahoo group)

Omake Time Line/Harry's Resume:

Six months to a year as a pickpocket/second story man - Thief

Twelve years at the guild learning to be a mage – apprentice Mage, thief

Two years at war – Squad/Platoon level magic support, Scout, Fighter

Several as a member of an adventurer's group – magical support

Mercenary – living artillery piece, Fighter

Mercenary captain – tactician, logistician

Hogwarts – Firsty

Omake: Complaints

"There have been some complaints from the Prefects regarding your general disdain for the house system," Dumbledore began slowly.

"I agreed to several conditions before accepting a place at your school," Harry replied coldly. "But I refuse to consider myself bound by unreasonable rules and regulations."

"Just what rules do you find reasonable?" Dumbledore asked faintly. The look on the old man's face suggested that he was in dire need of a large dose of fiber.

"None of them," Harry replied instantly. "Why do you ask?" Harry held up a hand to hold off the protest on the old man's lips. "I understand the importance of rules, I understand the importance of following the rules, what I do not understand is why I should pay any attention to the castle's rules."

"You're a student, as such you are expected to know and follow the regulations," Dumbledore tried.

"So you're saying that I should step aside to allow passage of one from a superior family when we meet in the hall?" Harry asked with a grin. "Or perhaps you'd like me to spend every Sunday on my knees in contemplation as the rules state I must."

"Harry, those rules haven't been enforced in . . ."

"Quite some time I imagine," Harry interjected. "None the less, they are still on the books."

"Still . . ."

"I refuse to read through a rule book that is ninety percent dreck in order to find the few bits that are still relevant, what's more, if you refuse to enforce the majority of the rules you have then I see no reason to follow the ones you do enforce. To put it another way, either all rules are to be respected or none of them are. I advise you to either revise the rules or throw the entire thing out and start anew, it matters not to me. Unless and until that happens, I will continue on as I have been. I trust that I have made myself understood, Headmaster?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow.

"You have," Dumbledore sighed. "I'll let the Prefects know to ignore you."

"Can you afford that lapse of discipline?"

"Hmmm?"

"The appearance of favoring me," Harry clarified.

"Happily, this is one situation where your fame as the boy who lived works in our favor. If they press the matter, I'll hand them the rule book with instructions to study it to find the same work around you did," Dumbledore laughed.

"Mind if I make a suggestion?"

"Not at all," Dumbledore prompted.

"Follow that up with a promise that you're looking at revising the rules so no such exception exists in the future and spend a few months cutting the fat. Produce a book that makes sense and you'll find that I'll become much more law abiding."

"Any changes must be approved by the governors," Dumbledore cautioned.

"I don't see that being a problem," Harry replied confidently. "Produce a book of regulations that can be followed and I'll see about getting it adopted."

AN: Polish by: dogbertcarroll

Omake: The Hands, They BURN

"Hmmm, haven't seen a possession for quite a while." Harry scratched his chin. "Shame you're not a priestess any longer, Min."

"The goddess dislikes it when one of her slaves gets a new master, master," Min replied. "But even if I were still serving, my skills would not have aided us in this matter."

"Suppose not," Harry agreed. "What do you say I try fire first?"

"Fire is always fun to use, master."

"True." He looked at the paralyzed man. "This is nothing personal, you understand, they're paying me quite a bit to stop you. Burning hands."

Deleted Scene by Me

Lucius awoke with a start, something was wrong. The ex-Death Eater reached under his pillow for a spare wand and was mildly put out to find it missing.

"We also took the one you keep in your bed side table, your wife's bodice dagger, and several other things," a young boy's voice stated blandly. "And no, we didn't come here to kill you."

"Though that option remains on the table," a feminine voice added.

"Potter," Lucius growled.

"I came to point a few things out to you," Harry said with a grin. "One, you're not safe. Your wards slowed me down for less then a minute. Two, while admirable and understandable, you're going to have to stop fighting young Draco's battles for him. He needs to learn how to fight his own if he's ever going to take his place at the head of the Malfoy family."

"What will you do if I continue?"

"Depends on the situation," Harry replied. "I'm not saying you can't protect the boy. But if you keep stepping in to resolve school yard conflicts, then we'll have to throw young Draco into the deep end. Losing his parents could make or break the boy. Either would be better then watching you ruin him."

"Agreed," Lucius sighed. "Anything else?"

"You tried to take my elf," Harry laughed. "I don't think you have any idea what a bad idea that was. Still, it's the thought that counts. You tried to take mine, it's only fair that I take yours."

"Dobby," Lucius barked.

"You is calling Dobby, Master Lucius?" the pathetic creature simpered.

"What's that?" Harry demanded.

"My elf," Lucius replied.

"What are they good for?" The thing looked like some horrific cross between a Kobold and a Gnome with perhaps a bit of goblin dashed in for flavor.

"Cooking, cleaning, that sort of thing," Lucius replied with a yawn. "Dobby, meet your new master. Was there anything else or can I get back to sleep?"

"That was it," Harry replied. "Oh, before I forget."

"Yes?"

"Contact me later, I've got a business opportunity and I need a local to tell me which politicians I need to bribe."

"Next Thursday work for you?"

"It should, I'll need to check with my elf to be sure."

"Have her contact my assistant," Lucius said as he closed his eyes. The boy could show himself out.

AN: Polish by: dogbertcarroll

Omake by Luinlothana

"Hey, Min, do you want to see how I perfected that spell for skinning a person alive? Now it can also work on separate body parts and the enhanced pain does not lead to passing out."

"Really? I'd love to see that." The Drow smiled to herself. Powerful magic and cruelty. Harry really knew how to romance a girl.

AN: Polish by: dogbertcarroll

Omake by Swordchucks

"You said you wouldn't give me to her if I talked!" the assassin squealed.

"Oh, I'm sorry. You're right," Harry said, his eyes never leaving Min's. "I guess we'll just have to let you go."

In spite of himself, the assassin sputtered, "Really?"

"No, not really," Harry said drolly, very much amused. "Min, he's all yours."

AN: Polish by: dogbertcarroll

Omake by moshehim

"What kind of potion would you use to cure a broken arm?" Snape asked.

"Mid-level healing potion after setting the bone," Harry replied automatically. "Assuming you don't have a healer of some sort with you already."

"Stupid boy!" Snape said. "there is no such thing as a 'Mid-level healing potion'!"

"Of course there is!" Harry exclaimed. "Here, see?" he asked fishing a bottle from his, or rather Min's, bag.

"What is this mockery?" asked Snape eying the unfamiliar potion. "Don't fool around in my classroom, Potter, or you'll be out of it before you can say- Oooowwww!"

Harry had enough, and decided practical demonstration was in order. In one swift motion he was on his feet, near his professor, and broke his arm. After which he pinched the man's nose and made him swallow the neon-bright blue potion in his hand. Lo and behold, the arm, which moments earlier had bone sticking out of it, was mended and healed, as good as new.

Snape spluttered.

Omake by patrick_nakasone

With a groan Min started wakening up. She did a quick mental body check Discovering that other then a headache and the pains of the assorted bruises one gets on the losing side of a fight nothing else hurt. Which meant she had not been raped while she was out cold.

Of course all that could simply mean was her captor wanted her fully awake and aware while it happened. As well as the fact she was wearing something other then her armor or usual cloths. The last thing she remembered was being introduced to a wall by a human male who had made just her feel like it was her first day at sword training again. She sat up quickly opening her eyes . Just as quickly deciding that was a rash action as the person who just started using her skull as a drum had also glued sand to her insides of her eyelids.

Looking at down herself she confirmed that she had been striped of her armor and weapons and was wearing a basic human brown peasant style dress. The fact she was not chained or restrained in any way was surprising. Looking around her surroundings she noticed several things. First she was in large tent well maintained and organized. Second was the person kept only what they need on hand, it could be all packed quickly by one person, and was of the highest quality but not luxurious manufacture. From the discipline of the drill chant of the sergeant outside the tent she judged was in some sort
of military camp. The human who had defeated her entered the tent. He was wearing sturdy well made cloths of neutral military colors. He grabbed a folding camp chair from the desk and sat down looking at her.

"So my prize is awake at last. My name is Harry Potter. I want you to tell me your name and clan so I can send a ransom letter to your family. One must observe the forms of course. So you will tell me or things will get unpleasant. Just so you know that as long as that you are either in my company or in this
tent you are safe from the predations of the rest of the men in camp. Outside of that... well you do not need to guess what could happen to you," Harry smoothly intoned as if talking about the weather.

End scene

AN: Polish by: dogbertcarroll

Omake by Luinlothana

"What's your name?"

"Why should I tell you, rivvil?" [human]

"Aren't you forgetting yourself, a bit? maybe you should be reminded of your current situation."

She smirked. "Very well. Why should I tell you, *jabbuk*? [master]

"Well, for one, it would be easier to have something other than servant to address you."

"And aside from that, it could be used in a number of rituals to torture me?"

"Smart girl. But I could do that quite successfully without knowing it as well. So? What is your name?"

"Mrimm d'dossta elghinn [guide to your death]," she fired quickly with a smirk on her lips.

"Cute. So how about we shorten that to Min? It suits you. So nice and girly."

"What?"

"I knew you'd like it. Now be a dear and prepare the fireplace. And Min? Any time you want to change your mind and tell me your real name you are welcome to do it." He walked away, erecting the Globe of Invulnerability a moment before the dart from her sithyrr reached him.

Omake by nielingage

Later:

Slicewing grabbed a fresh mug. The ground around him was littered with the broken pieces of five previous mugs (and eight smaller shot cups) that he'd dropped. Not because he was hammered; far from it! He'd only managed to drink down about half a mug's worth. After the first wasted mug (he hadn't even got a drop of that one) he'd taken to only putting a little in each cup. That way he was at least getting some alcohol into his system before the fear weakened his grip bad enough that he couldn't hold the mug.

The shot cups had been worthless in that respect; he hadn't gotten a single one to his lips before they slipped through his trembling fingers.

The door banged open and several goblins trooped in, only to stop at seeing their co-worker's state. The lead goblin, a particularly snaggle-toothed runt named Griphook, smiled viciously while checking the level of alcohol left in the barrel Slicewing was dipping from.

"Such a sad state when a gob can't hold his liquor," Griphook jeered. "Half a mug and you can barely sit up straight-urk!"

Slicewing had shot out of his seat and wrapped his hands around Griphook's neck. "Hold my liquor?" he snarled. "I can hold it fine, but today I'm having trouble holding the mug, because I had one of the Great Ones of the Under in my line today."

All mirth bled out of the otherwise amused goblins who'd followed Griphook in, and had quite enjoyed Slicewing's reprisal. Griphook, though still struggling against the grip on his neck, paled. "A Great One?" he whispered hoarsely. "Here?"

Slicewing bared every tooth. "A Great One," he confirmed. "A Great One, moreover, submitting to a Master. A *male* Master."

Griphook went absolutely still. The watching goblins shrank away from the two. He didn't want to, but the word slipped out. "Who?"

"*Harry Potter*."

AN: Polish by: dogbertcarroll

More by slickrcbd

At this Griphook promptly soiled his underwear while going deathly pale. He fervently hopes that he can cover the evidence that he'd been skimming from the Potter vaults for the last four years. Ever since Dumbledore had bribed him for access to them 'in order to finance Harry's upbringing'. If one of THEM calls Harry master... Well, he shudders to think what would happen if he were found out.

AN: Polish by: dogbertcarroll

Still more by Drake

Slicewing sighed, "And that's not the worst; she insisted on getting all keys her master owns. You know what *THAT* means!"

"This could be trouble," one of the goblins muttered.

"Could?" Slicewing dropped Griphook to the floor. "Could? Under their law carrying the mark of another is a sign of enslavement. If you defeat the slave owner, you get all her slaves. Which includes anything they may own."

"Gringotts can better afford a war with the wizards than with the Great Ones," the youngest goblin said. "Not that it would come to that. We simply inform the Daily Propaganda that Harry Potter claimed his due and that all slaves should present themselves to him as soon as possibly. Wizards do still have right of conquest in some form, and it does play a great part in their myths, so they shouldn't be too offended by that. Well, most will be more amused than anything, but the ministry should not be too keen to get involved. Especially if we announce that all the money is already under Potter's control."

"And it would allow us to take some measure of Harry Potter," Slicewing muttered. "That actually does sound like a good plan."

"The Malfoys arrived just a while ago," Griphook said with a nasty smirk. "I would love to see a Great One teaching them proper behavior."

All four goblins laughed at that, though Slicewing was pretty hysteric. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself, "Right. Griphook, see that the guards know about the Great One's claim on the Malfoys and the other marked slaves. I will be in the archives trying to find out exactly what Potter owns. Or has any claim on under Their law. Somehow I feel that what we know is just the seepage before the flooding."

AN: Goblins live underground, so 'tip of the iceberg' doesn't fit. However flooding would be an ever present danger (unless you spell every square inch over and over again).

AN: Polish by: dogbertcarroll

A Malfoy Omake by Drake

Narcissa entered the sitting room and was surprised that Lucius was sitting there nursing a firewhiskey. The bottle was still about three quarter full, but their open bottle had at best been half full yesterday. While both of them enjoyed a glass or two in the evening, it was very unusual for Lucius to drink more. In fact he hadn't since the Dark Lord lost. Lucius looked at her.

"Can you bear another heir?"

She looked at him wide eyed. They had agreed before their marriage that one child was enough; neither of them had looked forward to it or enjoyed that time. Even now Draco was a hindrance occasionally. Why would he want more? That didn't make sense.

"Dobby, a glass." She sat in the chair opposite to her husband.

"He's gone."

"Draco?" Lucius seemed to calm for that, but what else could he mean.

"Dobby. Draco told me that Potter had an elf and that I should confiscate it; the plan wasn't that bad, but I forgot to check the facts. I have since had a long talk with Severus about Potter."

"Elsa, a glass." A house elf popped in and gave her a glass. Narcissa nodded and filled her glass. "So Dumbledore protected him? You should have expected that."

"Not Dumbledore." Lucius took a rather large sip; very unusual. He usually only did that if he'd been exposed to the Cruciatus. "Potter's elf wasn't a house elf. It. She was as obedient, or at least appeared so, but looks far more human, with black skin. Her actions however were a lot more like your sister." He took another sip. "At least in general terms. She's much more creative than Bellatrix. A tad less sadistic, but far more bloodthirsty."

Narcissa sipped as she considered that. "So Potter isn't the icon of the light everyone believes him to be."

Lucius actually laughed. "It was a lot like meeting the Dark Lord for the first time. I didn't know who he was back then. I couldn't help but notice the aura that surrounded him; it was warning everyone that he could and would crush anyone in his way. Potter is the same, maybe even worse. I didn't notice it until he actually turned it on me; he was amused by my attempt to punish him; he treated me like I was of no importance. I'm not sure even the Dark Lord could take him on alone."

"Are you sure you don't imagine things?" The Dark Lord was extraordinary powerful and skilled. For a child to be that powerful.

"His elf suggested to kill everyone I loved and then rip out my heart while they sent my soul to the abyss; and no, I believe her. The intention wasn't there, I think, but I do not doubt they could have done it. Potter was actually tempted by her subtle idea to establish dominance in the family; kidnapping Sara and serving her to me at a feast they held in my honor. Honestly tempted."

Narcissa blinked. Twice. Then again. Then she emptied her glass. "Even the Dark Lord wouldn't do something like that!"

"Indeed. He then used something like the Imperius on me, just far more powerful, and ordered me to give him Dobby; right in front of Dumbledore! And Draco seems to have decided that taunting Potter is his duty."

Narcissa sighted, "What did Severus say?"

"Potter has access to unknown magical potions, including some that will revolutionize medical potions, should Severus figure out how to brew them. He is fascinated by poisons and an expert at creating and handling them. Severus has no doubt that Potter can and has killed in cold blood."

"Can we remove him from school?"

"Potter? Not unless we want to die."

"I meant Draco."

"Difficult and expensive; both in money and prestige. I don't think he could take over the family in the future if we did that."

Narcissa sighted, "I'm not sure he even could. So a new heir."

"It seems necessary. Potter won't press the issue, but Draco."

"He won't leave him alone. The boy was never satisfied with a partial success. He always wanted everything. A new heir." She sighed. "I really didn't want to go through that twice."

"I will get the potions from Severus."

"Does it matter? A girl groomed to be Potter's mistress might be a better way to continue the line, if he is that powerful. Assuming he is interested in girls."

"He is. Far more so that the Dark Lord ever was. Perhaps you are right and we should let magic decide."

AN: Polish by: dogbertcarroll

Omake by patrick_nakasone

"Min come here. I have word from your family," Harry called out pleasantly in the tent.

Min entered wearing a basic brown peasant dress from a partitioned off section of the tent. She notices Harry is siting in a chair in front of him are two pillows one has her rapier on it the next has a small vial on it. There was a third pillow with a leather slave collar on his right side next to his feet." What did they say human?" she asked.

"They have refused any negotiations for a ransom and said I can do with you as I please. So what should I do with you? " Harry said with a smirk.

"So what have you decided human ?" she asked with a sneer as she sat down on the ground without asking permission. Min was not surprised that her family left her hanging out to dry.

"I have decide to let you have a choice in your fate. First option is you can try to kill me with your sword and escape. Given the results of our last fight I am sure that you will end up on your back knocked out again and I will sell you at the next slave auction after having some fun with you of course. If you manage to kill me the camp guards will allow you to get ten meters from this tent before they give chase. You will most likely be caught quickly will not die as quickly as you would wish. Second option is to just try run for it I will not go chasing after you but the guards will give you the same ten meters before they give chase with more or less the same end results as the first as I will no longer protect you. Third option is to take the poison in that vial. Fourth option is for you to put on this collar submit and make yourself use full to me. So what is your choice?" Harry asked with a tone that only someone in total control of the situation could have as he gestured to the items in question.

It took all of Mins self control for her jaw not to drop from the sheer audacity, cunning, and ruthlessness of this human to set up this situation. No matter what choice she made he would benefit in some way from her choice. The first two options would either end with her being raped to death here in camp or raped and sold to a brothel or worse to live out her life and for a Drow that could be a long time. As her death by the third option would mean little to him it would only prevent her from getting revenge at some point in the future. Option four would only require her to swallow her pride and service his desires until a chance to exact her revenge came along.

She stood up with her head held high she reach behind her back for the ties of her dress and disrobed letting it fall to her feet. She then walk over to the pillow with the slave collar on it and picked it up. As she fastened it around her neck she knelt down on the pillow. She look down and asked, "How can I serve you, my master?"

"First You can put your dress back on. As I do not need you walking around my quarters nude to flatter my vanity of have such power over you. Second prepare some refreshments as I will have some guests soon discussing some new business arraignments. We will discuss other activities of your service to me later," Harry answered smoothly

As she stood up she glimpsed in to his eyes and saw that he knew which choice she would make before she even respond to his summons to come and talk about her family's response. She would have to learn quickly what level of subservience behavior he would demand from her. She also need to know what level of her scheming to kill him he would tolerate before he got rid of her as too much trouble. Yes she would have to plan both her service and revenge very carefully to this human as he may be a worthy master.

End scene

AN: Polish by: dogbertcarroll