Great Britain, Wiltshire.
Darcy watched the proceedings with a wary eye, glancing at her sisters as she did so. Icy and Stormy were enraptured by the display of power and dominance put on by Harry, blushes on their cheeks and an intense look in their eyes. The Witch of Darkness was similarly affected, but she had enough presence of mind to be unsettled still. It came in the form of a sinking feeling making itself at home in her now heavy stomach.
It was a novel sensation, to be concerned for someone other than her sisters. 'Well, maybe its not as altruistic as that.' the witch mused. 'If he walks down that path then it's Darkar all over again.' not something she wanted to repeat. Much more preferring him being gentle to them than wrathful. Like every woman Darcy wanted her man to be dangerous, but not to her.
Not to mention that they didn't know if the imbalance of positive and negative energy was what led to the madness of Darkar. It seemed possible, even likely, to Darcy. So to encourage that would only accelerate his potential downfall.
"Is this your ex-girlfriend?" Icy asked, briefly throwing a look of disdain over her shoulder from where she stood guard, sneering at the redhead. She was thoroughly unimpressed by what she saw. Sure, Ginny was an old and disgusting hag now with a body made pudgy from multiple pregnancies, – the fate most normal women shared sooner or later – but it was the lack of magical power she felt that really disappointed the Witch of Ice. In comparison to their own anyway. 'No wonder Harry choose Bloom as a cumdump over what waited for him here.' she thought scathingly, not even able to blame the man for his choice.
An opinion only strengthened by Ginny tending to the twitching body of the weakest wizard the Trix had ever seen. Not that they've seen many back home. At least she now knew why Harry had reacted to Darko the way he did. The resemblance in name, personality and lack of power was striking.
Thanking the Ancestresses for her sister's lack of tact, Darcy steered the conversation where she wanted it before Harry could say something. "Do you think she's being controlled or influenced?" intent to get his mind to other different avenues and away from bloody vengeance. Lest he do something he'd regret later on.
That brought Harry up short, his glowing emerald eyes narrowing in thought, having completely forgot to take that into account through his wrath. It was something an unscrupulous scumbag like Malfoy would do, he decided. "I don't know." he told the trio with a frown and wrinkled forehead. "Would you be a dear and find out if that is the case, Darcy?" he asked, knowing her proficiency and affinity with magic affecting the mind. As well as thinking there was no other way Ginny would be fussing over the little bigot. With a simply motion of his hand, Ginny's body became petrified and levitated towards him. "Gently, if possible."
"Of course." Darcy told him with a smile, golden eyes now focused on the floating woman as she herself hovered closer. She put an index-finger on the glaring ginger's forehead, looking into the light of her eyes to meet the gaze of Ginny's history. Darcy cast her spell, knowing that everything in the mind was connected by invisible strings, strings that could be pulled – or cut.
At once an air of subtle discord surrounded the pair, as if reality itself was somehow repelled and replaced by dreams. A fact proven true a moment later as a spiderweb erupted straight out of Ginny's skull from where it spread into a thousand facets. Each shard sparkled with a different memory, dream or hidden information. There was no thought as succulent as a secret, after all.
"Let's see here." the brunette witch mused, touching the pieces, looking for tampering or inconsistencies. Even rearranging them when necessary. After a few minutes of tense silence – a time in which she hoped Harry had calmed down a tad – she proclaimed the truth as she saw it in the redhead's mind. "I'm sorry to say, but there is no sign of tampering here."
A stuttering sigh escaped Harry at that. " I see." the disbelief was clear to hear in his voice.
Ginny came back to her senses as the spell ended, making her land on her bum on the ground. Brown eyes were focussing on Harry with all the hatred she could muster. "You should've stayed dead, Tom!" she snarled with all the vitriol inside of her. "My husband and I know the truth about you!" after all, she knew intimately what could happen with someone's soul when near a Horcrux for long periods of time. Possession and the erasure of the possessed.
That brought the Shadow Phoenix up short. "Tom? Your husband?" he questioned a bit bewildered, before he remembered what happened before he was thrown through the Veil. "So you still believe that bloody idiocy started by Skeeter and her ilk at Malfoy's trial? About me being overtaken by Tom's Horcrux." he snorted derisively, having thought her to be smarter than that. The next moment he once more glared at the platinum blonde ponce in rage. "What kind of bullshit did you feed her to get her to marry you?!" he demanded.
With just a gesture he levitated the quivering pile of misery and excrement that was Malfoy towards himself. "For that you'll die, Malfoy!" he promised. Already the eerie green light of the Killing Curse illuminated the space between the two men. Curiously it was edged with shadows seemingly caressing the spell.
Darcy, putting one delicate hand on his broad shoulder, hedged. "Do you really want to make him into a martyr, Harry?" normal people would be cowed by his growl, but Darcy saw the miniscule hesitation. "The public already think of you as evil. Do you want to confirm their views and tarnish your legacy even more?"
"What should I do then?" he snapped back, glaring at her this time. Impatient for his justice, still holding the spell and close to unleashing it. "Let scum like him get away unscathed?"
Unperturbed by that outburst – she had seen worse from her sisters – Darcy explained. "Easy, you administer true justice." her words were whispered sweetly in his ear as she leaned in, nimble hands distracting him by caressing his shoulders. "He spread lies about you, so you reveal to people the truth in a way they can't doubt. Death would be a mercy for someone like him, who hasn't even managed to achieve his goal of killing you. Instead make his greatest fear come true. Make him suffer like you suffered."
The Witch of Darkness hoped she got through to him, knowing that the intent behind killing someone with magic was most important. It may not stain the soul completely immediately, however it had a accumulative effect. Luckily, Harry seemed to give it some serious thought.
'I'd be nothing but a hypocrite.' he realized with a barely contained growl. On one hand preaching one thing and on the other doing the opposite. Besides, punishing Malfoy so that his life was miserable appealed to him as well.
Once he was done thinking about it Harry dismissed the Killing Curse and clasped Malfoy's twitching arm. "I'll give you a choice now, Malfoy!" he said, his emerald gaze burning into Draco's grey and milky eyes. "Either I shall make you choke on your own teeth, slowly. Or you cooperate and get to live" sadly it wouldn't be a life worth living in Malfoy's eyes, if Harry had anything to say about it.
'What will you choose?' the wizard wondered, hoping Malfoy's pride would win out. In the end it was Malfoy's cowardice that won over his tattered pride, as it always did.
They were interrupted by Narcissa once more, crawling on the ground and trying to get to her son. "Don't do it, Draco!" after she had lost her husband to the after-effects of the Dementors, she was determined to not lose her son as well.
"Glacius!" Only for her to be hit by white-blue wind of pure cold courtesy of Icy, freezing the woman as she was swiftly made her look like a statue encased in a layer of hoarfrost.
Harry briefly smiled at the witch. "Thank you, Icy." his words causing the young woman's pale cheeks to flush as she preened.
"I-I'll... d-d-do it." he stuttered out, teeth clattering as the aftershocks wracked through his body.
"Darcy will be our binder, then." Harry told the coward as the witch floated closer to their joined hands.
When she was ready Darcy began the spell by asking for the only vow she needed. "Do you both swear to only tell the full truth and nothing but the truth in the next half an hour, as well as repeat the same words publicly in a week's time?"
"Yes." Harry swore easily.
"Y-y-yes." Draco ground out after a few tries, his pride warring with his desire to live. Once he agreed a tongue of flame wrapped around their clasped forearms, binding them together through an Unbreakable Vow.
By now everyone in the leftover audience was staring, some enraptured and few horrified, wondering where the events of today would lead. Or what consequences they would bring for their society at large. Some of Draco's acquaintances watched the proceedings with dread, their eyes flickering to the many openly staring Muggleborn and Half-blood servants around the room. Thankfully they weren't allowed to have their wands.
Darcy began with casting a Sonorous on all three of them, followed by Harry's question. "Did you ever identify, now or in the past, as the person known as Tom Marvolo Riddle – also known as Lord Voldemort or more commonly by his epithet of You-Know-Who?"
"No!" he answered strongly and truthfully. While he did go through a little bit of an identity crisis, that only happened in the beginning of his time in Omega. Due to accruing so many memories not his own before learning to control the process better.
The words made Ginny go pale, her brown eyes growing wide and her mouth falling open in shock. Murmurs of unease rippled through the crowd.
Darcy then turned to Draco, asking. "Did you willingly conspire against Harry James Potter, fabricating and twisting evidence to have him thrown through the Veil of Death on trumped up charges?"
Draco visibly struggled this time. Harry and the Trix didn't know if it was because Draco thought he could cheat an Unbreakable Vow, or if he was exhausted. In the end he sagged and tried to whisper. "Yes." Only for the Sonorous to amplify his voice so it echoed throughout the room like their own, making him grimace as the damning words went free.
This time the reaction was much louder as former enemies of Malfoy realized the mistake they made. Not due to them fucking over Mudbloods and Half-bloods. No, that was par for the course. Rather it was because they now had to deal with a pissed of Harry Potter. Ginny's gaze darted from Harry to Draco, her eyes growing ever wider before becoming dull through shock and rolling into the back of her skull as she fainted onto the floor.
With just two questions they had unraveled the public image of Malfoy. Though, Harry was not satisfied. Far from it. Without warning the hand he grasped Malfoy with gained a black outline, looking the same as when he dismissed the Killing Curse cast by Draco. It looked as if light had fled from the appendage.
The scion of House Malfoy tried to put up a futile fight, feeling weaker and weaker the longer it went on. Right up until he felt an all encompassing agony that consumed him more than the Torture Curse ever could. It felt as if his muscles were being cut apart by rusted knifes, his nerves plunged into acid. Once it was over he was completely empty of something he couldn't properly define or comprehend in his current debilitating state.
Only witnessing through blurry eyes as a shimmer hovered in the air before dissipating into the air around them. Realizing deep within his fading consciousness that he was now missing an essential part of himself. Something that had always been with him. Right up until it wasn't, and it never again would be.
"What did you do?" Darcy asked the question an exhausted and weak Draco was now too unconscious to pose.
Harry let go and let his enemy fall to the ground in a heap. "I took all of his magic." the Shadow Phoenix commented, sounding pleased. "and crippled his Magical Circuits so that he can't replenish it either." emerald eyes heavy with judgement fell onto the still form on the floor. "He's in essence nothing but that which he hates more than anything; a Muggle."
That proclamation sent waves of shock and unease through the remaining crowd. Once more prompting them to flee in all directions with renewed vigour born of fear, thinking they were next in line to have the same done to them.
The Trix let them do so by a simple gesture from Harry. Nothing but contempt in their eyes directed at the cowards.
In the end they left the Malfoys as they were, except Icy dispelling the ice prison of Narcissa, before leaving the place.
"I thought revenge would taste sweeter." Harry sighed out, knowing that the only reason he had clung so tightly to it was due to it being an easy focus during his time on Planet Omega. Normally his rage was burning hot and bright, but also quickly extinguished. Almost never holding grudges for too long, nor making them his whole aim.
Despite the disappointment of Stormy, Icy and himself, Harry knew it was better this way. It had felt good to vent his rage in the moment, but it lasted not nearly as long as he thought it would. His wrath already greatly diminished by his time on Magix with the Trix, Bloom and Chimera. Neither did he really want to become like Voldemort, no matter how justified it might be in his own mind to punish all those cowards.
Great Britain, London, Grimmauld Place 12.
Tucked away in northwestern London, a twenty minute walk from King's Cross, Station, lied number twelve, Grimmauld Place. It pushed its neighbouring houses apart as Harry approached the magical building to manifest itself into reality under the starlight. As he remembered the house had a worn set of stone steps leading to a battered front door. On the door was a silver knocker in the shape of a twisted serpent, but it had no keyhole, handle or anything else that would indicate it being a door.
The Trix watched Harry's rather enticing back as he visibly gathered himself to approach the deceptively mundane house where his childhood friend Hermione Granger now lived. All three able to see the house due to Harry sharing the secret of its location with them. He had decided to visit here instead of the Burrow. Unsure of what he might find at the Burrow due to Ginny being married to Malfoy.
"Why did you stop him?" Stormy hissed to Darcy, teal eyes narrowed and brow furrowed. "He should've torn these weaklings apart and gotten his revenge!"
The Witch of Darkness did not look at her sister, instead inspecting her nails a little, commenting. "You know, I actually expected Icy to be the one to complain about that. Your anger is usual gone as quickly as it comes." she turned towards her silver-haired sister. "No offense meant."
"None taken." she had been disappointed as well, but it wasn't her place to question her master for such things. Her judgement hadn't been the best lately anyhow.
"And to answer your question: It's because he is a gentle man that was pushed too far. It is simply not in his nature to be overly vengeful. Neither do I want him to be." The brunette proclaimed with a shrug and now looking at the cloud-haired woman, a delicate eyebrow raised. "Or do you want a repeat of Darkar?" Darcy herself had no desire to be used, discarded and lose her gained power again.
"No." came the reluctant, petulant and growled answer. Her typical scowl back on the Storm witch's features.
Satisfied, Darcy nodded towards the currently indecisive wizard. "He needed something to focus on during his stay on Omega and revenge was probably the easiest." she put one arm over her enticing bosom, fingers touching the golden and intricately woven Gloomix sitting around her throat and fiddling with it. "Once he was free, revenge swiftly grew to be an afterthought behind exploring new places... helping us."
The last comment made all three of them blush happily, smiles tugging at their lips at the knowledge that they took priority in such a manner. The one on Icy's lips was forcefully transformed into a frown. "That's pretty presumptuous, to imply you know what's better for our master than he himself does." she pointed out, sapphire eyes narrowed in suspicion. Their roles were pretty well defined.
The brunette rolled her golden eyes and countered with a huff. "Well, a good subordinate should know what their master needs, even if he himself doesn't realize it!" blind loyalty was dangerous, after all. Darcy just hoped she never would have to choose to abandon the power and everything else Harry had given them.
"That's not what a servants does, but a wife!" Stormy pointed out with a warning glower.
"Is it?" Darcy mused with a smile barely on the edge of being polite. All while mockingly tapping her chin thoughtfully with one index-finger. "You're just disappointed you weren't able to get off of him hitting more people and destroying stuff." she commented with a grin, golden eyes twinkling.
"I hate it when you do that!" Stormy huffed, arms crossed petulantly.
"Do what?"
"Making sense!" Icy finished for her sister, annoyed at them and herself. "This discussion isn't over though."
"You three coming?" Harry called out, shouting over his shoulder. Emerald eyes watching them expectantly. "Or should I go in alone?"
Mouths shutting with a nearly audible click the Trix followed him to the door. A knock and a minute of waiting later the door was opened by a brown-haired woman Harry would recognize anywhere. Hermione had grown into her looks even more now than before, possessing an attractive figure with curves in all the right places. Bushy hair had given way to lazy curls with ringlets framing her heart-shaped face while the majority was held in a relaxed ponytail. Though, there were also dark bags under her bloodshot eyes, looking as if she hadn't got a good rest in a few years. She wore a simple white nightgown.
"Hey, Hermione!" Harry greeted her with a wave and a lopsided smile, his eyes shimmering strangely in the moonlight.
Hermione's mouth fell open in shock, chocolate brown eyes wide in disbelief. As always her mind was a whirlwind of activity, this time trying to rationalize his presence. Be it someone under Polyjuice, charm or glamour. All of these thoughts and theories were discarded just as quickly as they formed. Due to the simple reason that Grimmauld Place was still under the Fidelius and as such not possible to be infiltrated by anyone not in the know. And the people that knew were either dead or on a very short list.
"Harry?!" Hermione chocked out, eyes watering heavily that soon rolled down her cheeks as tears. She got herself under control a little bit, visibly wrestling internally before demanding. "What did I say to you before you confronted the person trying to steal the artefact hidden on the second floor corridor in our first year at Hogwarts? Who was it and what did she try to steal?" for once she was glad for Dumbledore's penchant to swipe things under the rug. No one but Harry and herself knew what happened before he confronted Riddle. Neither having talked about it with anyone to her knowledge.
The Last Potter chuckled at that, grinning. "It was the third floor corridor and the perpetrator also wasn't a woman, but good try to misdirect me with implications." he commented teasingly, trying to lighten the mood. Upon her tensing up he sighed and answered. "It was our Defence Professor Quirinus Quirrel, who was willingly possessed by the shade of Voldemort. He was trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone from the Mirror of Erised to resurrect his master. The stone was put there by our Headmaster at the time; Albus Dumbledore. Most likely as a lure to confirm his suspicions of Voldemort surviving his encounter with my mother."
"And, what did I say?" Hermione tried to demand, but her throat constricted painfully that I came out in a rasp. Her Occlumency working overtime to shield herself from possible mental intrusion to snatch the necessary information out of her mind.
"You told me I'm a great Wizard, whereupon I replied that you're better." he smiled softly at his best friend, emerald green meeting warm brown. "Then you said there are more important things than books and cleverness." By now Hermione's lips trembled mightily. "Like friendship and bravery."
Without warning the witch launched herself at the wizard, a sob escaping her throat as she imitated a particularly cute cutting of Devil's Snare. "It's you! It's you! It's you!" she mumbled into his chest over and over again. "I've missed you so much!"
"I've missed you too." He let her get it out of her system for a few minutes.
Finally Hermione rambled on as was her wont. "What happened? How did you survive? Why...?" after a look behind him and seeing the three young women, she added. "And who're they?"
"That's a long story, but I'm equally interested in knowing what happened in my absence."
United States of America, California, Gardenia.
Vanessa Smith, Bloom's adoptive mother, was a woman with tanned skin coming from working long hours under the sun in her garden and short brown hair framing her face that possessed hazel eyes. She wore only light makeup, usually consisting of pale yellow-gold eye shadow and peach lipstick. "Where did I put that damn salad dressing?!" she muttered to herself impatiently rummaging around her freezer.
If anyone had asked Vanessa what she was doing in her kitchen, she would have told them she was making a salad and it would be perfectly true. She would deny, if asked, that she was enjoying the show the two presumed fairies her daughter Bloom had brought with her put on in her garden. Currently wanting nothing more than to get back to her entertainment.
Her family was hosting the annual Neighbourhood Barbecue. The Barbecue was a tradition in their neighbourhood by now. They all took turns hosting it and everyone contributed something to it, be it meat, salad, self-made bread or other things. It was, as her husband Mike had once put it, an example of how people can come together without negativity. This year it also happened to coincide with Bloom's surprise visit home. A fact Vanessa was grateful for, because she had run out of excuses to make about what Bloom did now or which school she was attending currently. Traditionally the hosts also invited very good friends and family, which she guessed Bloom's hanger-on now counted as.
Some people even thought Bloom had run away from home to look for her birth parents. A fact of gossip that had enraged the usually laid-back and gentle woman. Not least of all due to the kernel of truth it held deep inside.
"There you are!" she exclaimed after finding the dressing, hidden behind a mountain of additional meat for the barbecue, in case of something going wrong or being burnt. With haste she finished the salad and rejoined the festivities outside.
Once she was outside Vanessa immediately beheld the spectacle again, joining her husband and daughter at the grill.
On one side of the beautifully maintained garden stood the two new fairies. The blonde her daughter had introduced as Diaspro Vala and the one with dark blue hair – it seemed to be her natural colour as her eyebrows had the same one – as Chimera Celsius. Both were currently talking with one of the neighbours. The stunning young blonde wore clothes fit for a queen, consisting of an ivory dress with puffy sleeves, a maroon corset inlaid with intricately woven nacre and jasper. As well as jewellery swirling up her arms. Her heeled shoes alone cost more than what either of the Smith's made in a year. All in all completely unsuited for a simple get-together with neighbours.
Chimera on the other hand wore clothes more fitting for the occasion, but not really appropriate either. Her outfit was a long sleeved gothic dress the colour of mulled wine, decorated with a pale pink frills at the bottom of her short skirt. She also had long dark purple stockings and shoes the exact colour as her dress. Most striking were the large scar going over the bridge of her nose and the bandages wrapped around her torso.
"Democracy, really?" Diaspro was heard saying with an air of condescension about her that could be physically cut, a sneer in her amused voice. She wore and wielded her smile as expertly as any weapon. "Utterly amusing, to think you expect commoners like yourself to have any idea what's good for a country."
"Quite." Chimera agreed with an equally amused sneer directed at the man. "One has to be born to rule and learn proper administration from a young age." despite her behaviour she did receive such tutelage in how to run a household and more. She just did not have much need to use it for now.
Vanessa watched and heard as the man tried to mount a blustering defense, feeble as it was. After all he was no political scientist. Only a passionate citizen holding the opinion that Democracy – even though the U.S was technically a Republic – was the best due to being told such, without any kind of proof or knowledge to back the claim up. He had no real recourse against their arguments. Be they instability from constantly changing leaders, there being no scope for morality in Democracy due to the focus being on political powerplay, delays brought about by consulting so many people, ordinary people being unaware of what was good for them and being only allowed to vote between pre-selected candidates which promoted corruption and nepotism as much as any Monarchy.
The mother of Bloom was aware that Democracy was no better or worse than Monarchy or any other form of government. Except for the pure and delusional evil of communism, of course. Each had pros and cons to itself. To think one was better than another or god forbid, perfect, was foolish in the extreme. While amusing to witness the spectacle, what Diaspro said next blew all previous claims of her out of the water, making Vanessa and Bloom choke and sputter in disbelieving laughter.
"Might as well let women vote for doing nothing while you're at it." Diaspro commented disdainfully and dismissively, obviously not quite including herself in that statement. She was aristocratic despite being disowned and as such still held her titles unlike Chimera. The only democratic systems that halfway worked were those where it wasn't a right but a privilege one earned through work. Those who hadn't earned it didn't value it and were also the worst kind of voters. They were those who didn't understand civilization, and wouldn't like it if they did. The hitch-hikers. The people who created nothing, and who didn't appreciate what others had created for them, and who thought civilization was something that just existed and that all they needed to do was enjoy what they can understand of it—luxuries, a high living standard, and easy work for high pay.
Utter silence reigned as words deemed heretical by the worldwide cult of Feminism were voiced out loud by one they perceived as their own. Vanessa waited with baited breath for the inevitable screeching to start as the fuse on a powder-keg of epic proportions was lit. The suspense was killing her. The clash of cultures was better than anything up on TV, the woman decided.
"How dare you!" one rotund harpy hollered predictably, her face red with indignation. Followed by a gaggle of them creating the clucking of hens intent to peck a rival to death. "We fought for decades, no centuries, to become equal to men!" she ranted zealously. "To overthrow their oppression and evil stranglehold! To no longer be enslaved by marriage!"
All Chimera and Diaspro did was laugh at that, to them, ridiculous statement.
"Oh please." the Solarian fairy tittered. "Is that how you really feel?" her eyes of blue roamed over the woman's body, a knowing smile blossoming on her face. "Or is that just because you could never get a man to actually marry you?"
The blonde fairy added her own two knuts. "If men truly are so evil and had had such an oppressive stranglehold over women as you claim, then how is it no longer the case?" she pointed out without intention to let the fool reply. "I'll tell you. It is by the grace of men that you can stand here and voice your pathetic opinions. If they truly wanted you oppressed then you'd be oppressed." Diaspro told them with a disinterested shrug. "As such you've got as much power, political or otherwise, as men allow you to have." Quite aware that men held the monopoly on violence and physical power by nature's decree. Weapons could mitigate that only so much and were available to everyone either way.
After all, why else would the majority of women be so focused on getting a strong and powerful man, if not in part for protection? Even if only subconsciously looking for a stalwart, strong and dependable man. Sure, there were exceptions in the form of Fairies and Witches who wielded magic, but those were in the vast minority and there were Wizards as well. Even in the so called Magical Galaxy, those without magic outnumbered those with by a large margin.
There also was a reason why the vast majority of monarchies were still patriarchies, despite most kings being married to powerful fairies. It was the simple fact that women by an large were irrational beings, and fairies more so. Not someone – be they man or woman – you wanted to be ruled by most of the time, in Diaspro's opinion. Ruling needed logic and a firm hand, requiring hard and ugly choices to be made for something approaching a fair outcome to occur. Women and Fairies in particular either tried to mitigate suffering, appease and please everyone – an impossibility and even a disadvantage ready to be exploited for a ruler – or were incredibly biased in favour of friends and family most of the time. Even the vast majority of Domino's good queens had always listened to their husbands' advice, as well as putting him in charge of the army per tradition. Sometimes even slipping into simply being matrilineal for especially weak queens.
"Besides," the blonde continued in front of the frothing female mob surrounding her, talking like she was speaking a universal truth. "women are for petting, pampering and praising."
This time Chimera frowned, countering with a shake of her head. "No, we're for pouncing, penetrating and pregnancy." after all, there was nothing as powerfully feminine as pregnancy.
"Oh god." Vanessa brought out, biting her knuckles hard enough to draw blood in an effort to keep from laughing like a maniac. Anticipating the reply fervently while her husband stood beside her with an amused look as he tended to the meat on the grill, watching the public train-wreck of a conversation with the rest of the stunned guests.
Diaspro seemed to contemplate those words. "Hmm, true." she nodded seriously. "Breeding suitable heirs with a powerful man and raising the next generation is the greatest responsibility and joy a woman can have!" it was the most important duty of a noblewoman after all, and something she still greatly believed in. Love Potion or not.
Vanessa's attention turned back towards the woman that had first shouted at the two fairies. She was approaching fifty years of age and called Ms. Porter, known to the neighbourhood for being an absolutely rabid feminist. She only still came here because she somehow believed Bloom's mother to be an ally of the cause, as Ms. Porter said it. Apparently believing that to be the case because Vanessa herself couldn't get pregnant, while ignoring that she would've liked nothing more. Though, at least now Porter could serve some purpose for once in form of entertainment.
"I...I..." the Porter woman barely brought out in her rage. Similar disbelief etched into her contemporaries around her.
Chimera commented disdainfully, as was her way. "Did you not understand her?" the words said so condescendingly it made it seem like Chimera's nose was in the air when it wasn't. She turned to her fellow fairy "Seemed simple enough to understand, didn't it?"
The blonde nodded before sniffing haughtily. "True, I even lowered myself by addressing that hoodlum in a manner she understood," she shuddered for good effect. "by using common parlance."
"Quite." Chimera agreed, still hating Diaspro to an extent. Even if she couldn't blame the blonde for wanting to sleep with Harry, because in Chimera's mind that was just common sense for a fairy. More so hating her for how she did it. But not despising her so much as to subject Diaspro to such atrocities as to talk with commoners like they were on the same level. "We're both going through it."
"I mean just look at her." Diaspro continued, one hand waving at a nearby girl. "Or her."
"Excuse me?!" Mitzi exclaimed in shock, strongly offended. The young woman in question had long black hair parted to one side and common brown eyes. She wore a green tank top with a single yellow line going horizontally and small cut-out sections going down the centre. She also wore khaki capris. "What's wrong with how I look?!"
Diaspro did so in excruciating detail, much to Bloom's delight.
Explaining that on the surface nothing was wrong with her to the common observer, even finding her to be pleasant and beautiful to look at. However, for the noble fairies everything screamed peasant at them. She had a common beauty, which every girl possessed to some degree through their youth, but nothing exceptional. Then came her hairstyle – a thing of little maintenance and virtually no upkeep to demonstrate effort involved – followed by her posture, choice of words and even the amount of makeup. Lastly were her clothes that had brand logos all over, proclaiming herself as someone that wanted to look rich but wasn't. After all, every idiot could buy brand clothes off the rack. Only truly wealthy could buy handcrafted things tailored to their body that lasted long.
While the public spectacle went on Bloom deeply enjoyed Mitzi being verbally mauled by Diaspro and Chimera. However, sadly all good things must come to an end. 'Not now, Harry.' she lamented inside her mind as she saw the man approach with the Trix and another brunette woman of his age through the open garden gate. 'Let them verbally eviscerate Mitzi some more.' not quite wanting the torment of her childhood bully to end so soon.
"Does Harry look like peasant to you as well then?" Icy challenged, both slender arms crossed with a challenging smirk tugging at her lips.
Diaspro scowled briefly at the Trix before ignoring her and focussing on Harry. "No, he's obviously a hero. Someone that can be inserted into any social bracket due to great deeds done by him." there was a reason why heroes often married princesses, outside of getting some strong new blood into royalty.
Bloom, seeing the impending explosion if nothing was done, killed the fight at inception with a question. "Who's that Professor Potter?" going with the story of him being a teacher of theirs as she motioned towards the older brunette. She wore white capri shorts, a periwinkle blouse left mostly open over a white tanktop and brown woven sandals, belt and bracelet.
He smiled and put an arm around Hermione's waist. "This is my best friend, Hermione Granger.".
'Poor woman.' Vanessa thought as she saw Granger subtly grimace at being introduces as a best friend. At least the barbecue wasn't a total disaster for now.
United States of America, California, Gardenia.
"I don't know what I expected." a cultured voice said with a drawl, killing the messenger elf negligently before lighting the dead beast on fire and throwing it into the trash. Long platinum blonde hair kept in an elaborate braid fell over the imposing man's shoulder, while cold grey eyes beheld everything before him as inferior. He wore a superior sneer together with a suit that cost a fortune for the average person, though those who knew him were aware that he hated the Muggle attire.
The voice of the next one that spoke held nothing but amusement as he heckled. "Well, what can you expect from cowardly Frenchmen?!" this one couldn't be a bigger contrast to his contemporaries. Wearing ripped jeans, black leather boots and jacket with no shirt. His hair was shaved at the sides, spiked up to make a Mohawk while coloured bright pink, making him look like the stereotypical British punk.
"Really? Now on the cusp of our ultimate victory?" a third one with a small but well-trimmed goatee sighed out. He was of clear African decent, judging by his features and dreadlocks. Though, he was carrying himself more like European nobility than anything else. In contrast to the first his features were rather gentle and kind, possessing warm brown eyes and a smile promising mischief, but hiding a dangerous edge in both.
The platinum blonde ignored the words, his lifeless eyes landing on the punk. "As if a contemptuous little worm like you would know anything about honour, mutt!" he fired back at the punk.
"Say that one more time, Bad Faith!" was retorted with equal vitriol, his teeth were sharpening and growing longer, as were his nails. Evidently readying his magic for a confrontation.
A harsh voice interrupted. "Enough!" a fourth voice growled out in a show of temper, showing impatience openly for but a second before calming again. It came from the last of them, putting any further discussion to rest before it began. He was – as were all of them – solidly built, having broad shoulders, a massive chest, flat stomach and heavy arms and legs. From behind a mop of unruly crimson hair smouldered a pair of tempestuous blue eyes. "Anagan is correct. The happenings in our ancestral land and specifically your home are of no concern now, Duman, Gantlos!"
"All that matters now is to eliminate the Last Fairy of Earth!" a slightly manic grin spread over his face as the ring on his finger glowed with eerie violet light, tugging him in the correct direction. "Then the Oath of the Knights of Walpurgis will finally be fulfilled!"
"As you say, Ogron!" Gantlos spat, clearly doubtful after centuries of doing this duty.
I hope people aren't too disappointed that Draco didn't get more of a punishment, but I felt that'd be going down a path Harry learned not to go down on. Sure, the temptation was always there and would always be, but he resisted it before and would again.
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