Just as Harry was finishing his sandwich, the three Wolfen they met almost a week ago entered, the smallest being carried by the other two.
"Hey Dobby." Harry Called out. "What do I have besides the Fire-whiskey?"
"Goblin-King make sure Master Harry not need anything." The House Elf bobbed beside the human.
"I think I need a selection of three bottles of whiskey."
Three muggle whiskey bottles appeared beside him as he struggled to his feet. He collected the bottles and approached the trio.
"What do you want?" The injured Wolfen snapped. "Wait, I know you…"
"Yes… you three faced a Chimaera so we could fly overhead." Harry set the three bottles on the table. "Our Gifts for your Bravery and Valor. I will allow you to choose who gets what." He left a bottle of each Johnny Walker blue, red, and black.
"Just like that?" The little guy made to stand up. "You think you can just buy our forgiveness with some cheap…" the bigger male cuffed him.
"Do you know the Value of what you are giving us?" The Female asked.
"Not really. But you saved the three of us half of a day's walk distracting that beast. We decided to buy you victorious combatants a round of drinks for a week. I decided that it was easier to give you each a bottle of whiskey from my … packing."
"So that you know…" the bigger male spoke in a gravelly voice. "We had to run for three days straight. Wrysa tracked from the kill to a lake… where we took to the water, to sleep and travel. We make it here, and this lame ass falls off the pier into the ocean, dislocating his shoulder and spraining his knee."
"Been there. Finishing the Game and then falling off the broom, or tripping in the locker room." Harry nodded, "I advise, to save those for the weekend. I am told that they are the good stuff."
He turned his back and returned to his group.
"He just turned his back on us!" The smaller male hissed.
"No… he is trusting us with his back." The Female smirked. "It was old, but I smelled 'Wolf' on him. He runs with a pack. A mixed pack for sure, but a pack. Don't challenge him unless you must. See he is sitting with a Lamia, a Mao, and a Griffin. That is not a male to anger. I will speak with the Mao… she was also with him at the Valley."
The boy eased back into the bean bag. Only for something to climb onto his chest and to sprawl out.
£By Bast! I almost killed the Parasite. There is only so much cute One can put up with.£
"And what do you call 'the Parasite' you monstrous hairball." Harry Growled as he began to scratch behind the cat's ears.
£That ball of cuteness that you found on the water castle.£ Crookshanks rolled belly up, for Harry to scratch and rub. £ (Reckless Storm) gives the best belly rubs. Doesn't One agree (Book Hunter)?£
"Oh don't drag me into this." Hermione turned the page before she looked up. "Crookshanks?"
£ That's one's Slave name. One is (Scandalous Inferno). £
Both human Brits snorted.
"What'sss ssso funny?" Verra cocked her head in confusion. "Where did the beakwarmerrr come from?"
"The answer to the second question is Rio." Hermione closed her book, as she rolled forward to inspect her Familiar. "Don't know how. As to the first… he calls himself 'Scandalous Inferno'."
"Miss. I thought you were told that Travel class magic was forbidden?"
"I was." Hermione never looked away from the feline. "I had left him in Rio where he could be warm, well fed, and sleep all day. I have no idea how he got here."
The Headmistress looked at the cat and he lifted his head to look at her. The Woman frowned, before she snorted, shook her head, and walked away.
"Harry?" Hermione asked.
"It's the First of September." Harry reclined, before he began to purr. This caused Crookshanks to join in. Hermione smiled as she settled back, and joined them.
"What is happening?" Verra blinked.
"They are as close to happy as they can get." Kyra collected her book. "As for the rest… give it time. They can't keep a secret if they wanted to."
SPRB
In Scotland, a School in a Castle on the hill overlooking a small village in the middle of nowhere…
An old man sat, poised at the center of the raised table, overlooking the soon to be filled Hall. The Boy was due to return. Both He and the Ministry had passed a Decree that to hold a seat on the Wizengamot, you had to attend Hogwarts for your OWLs.
It would only hold until the end of the school year… but that was all he needed.
Sitting before the raised table on his stool was the Hat. He too was smirking. He knew where the lad had gone… he was the Focus for the Entity that was Hogwarts.
Hogwarts was the Heart of what some called a Vale. It was in the centre of three massive leylines. The three lines made a not quite equilateral triangle. As they crossed each other. The nodes formed by this unique phenomenon had caused what the founders had built to craft its own Hearts one, or rather, when three of the four Founders built what become their own 'wardstone/heartstone' centers, (the fourth, Helga, was a green witch that grew the forest as the core of her power) to anchor and build a fourth Heartstone in the very centre of the Castle.
Now every Heartstone becomes sentient after about a century, give or take a decade or two. Now while they can only 'talk' to their 'humans' through the Focus… they often 'spoke' to each other.
Last Night, The Entity that was Snow Point had told Hogwarts that two carrying her mark had passed through his gates. He had even praised her for raising a promising Warrior and his Handler.
As the students boiled into the Hall, a worried Redhead in patched robes scurried to the High Table to speak with the Headmaster and the redheaded witch beside him.
"Sir, Mum, He was not on the Train nor was Hermione!" He panted. "What are we going to do?"
"Take a seat. Enjoy the Feast, and meet in my office. I am having a craving for bloodpops." Albus waved the boy away.
"Sir?" Molly asked.
"I think I will send Fawkes for him. This has gone on long enough."
Then McGonagall led in the new crop of recruits to the Cult of Dumbledore. Yes… they were pleasant looking and so impressionable.
The Sorting Hat chuckled as he twisted about to face the hopefuls. He then began his song…
SPRB
Three hours later, Ronald Weasley, his Mother, Snape, and McGonagall were in the Headmaster's office as they watched the Headmaster scratch out a quick note and enchant it to enthrall Mister Potter.
"Fawkes." He approached the red bird. "I need you to take this letter to Harry Potter and to stay with him until he asks for you to bring him back."
Fawkes chirruped a question.
"Are you certain that is the order you want to give him?" The Hat asked from the shelf.
"Yes. Quickly now."
The Phoenix shrugged before taking the scroll in its claws and launching itself into the air and vanishing.
"It should be about five minutes…" Albus returned to his chair. "So… thoughts on this year's new blood."
Ron snorted and walked off to inspect the nic-nacs around the room.
"Not enough Slytherin." Snape sneered. "My house has become a house of sniveling mama's boys and fangirls. The only real Slytherin in my house is Greengrass and her coven."
"There is a Coven in my school!" Albus snapped up right.
"Only in the most basic of definitions. What else do you call a group of witches?" His Sneer grew in contempt.
"So they are not practicing any…" Albus looked at the man.
"As if there is anything you could do about it." McGonagall glared at the man. "Or do I need to 'talk' to you… again?"
"No…" Albus was quick to back off. "Just making sure that they are not practicing unsupervised."
"I will double check." McGonagall eased off.
"I noticed that the lion's share went to Hufflepuff." Molly voiced her concerns.
McGonagall smirked at the pun.
"Pomona does get the larger crops each year, but they are not ambitious enough for Slytherin, Book hungry for Ravenclaw and have too much Common Sense for Gryffindor." The Hat smirked himself from the shelf. "Of course…" the hat twisted its tip as if cocking an ear to listen to something in the other room. "You have other worries. Umbitch is here with the Ministry Guard for Mister Potter with a warrant. Wila is escorting her up."
Three minutes later they heard the stairs move to carry the Professor up, and the burst open as the pink toad faced woman stormed up to the desk. "Where is He?!" She slammed her Warrant on the desk.
Albus steepled his fingers under his nose. A slow inhaled breath, a count of three, and a slow exhale. "Why… good evening Delores. How are you doing this lovely night?"
"Ministry Business! Where is Harry Potter!" The undersecretary all but screeched in her tiny voice.
"I don't really know. I have sent for him, though." Albus used a quill to turn the sheet of parchment around so he could look at it. "I see that you crossed all the 'tee's and dotted …"
"When will he get here?" She interrupted him. "How does it take for him to get here from his Dorm?"
"Oh… you misunderstand." McGonagall grinned. "Mister Potter is not in Hogwarts at this time."
"Then where can he be!"
"This might be a clue." The Hat flicked the two letters off his shelf.
Before they hit the floor, they snapped across the room to McGonagall's hand. "Brazil. That means that he is at Castelobruxo."
Delores snatched the warrant from the desk and used the floo to return to the ministry.
"Yeah… no. Mister Potter and his Handler are at Snow Point." The Hat smirked.
"No!" Albus on his feet, as he too headed for the Floo, only for the fire to die before he came close, the lock on the door clicked shut.
"Listen closely Old Fool." The Hat was no longer joyful, a force for the Dark. "Mister Potter is away to do what you either won't or can't. He will learn what he needs to and then he will return. You don't want him to return before he is ready… you are warned."
And like a muggle switch, the happy personality was back. "We wish him well in his studies."
The fire reignited as the door unlocked.
As everyone but Albus was leaving, Ron turned to his mother. "So… where is Hermione?"
SPRB
The Headmistress stepped into the Watch Room.
Sixty groups had made sign-in. Fifteen had died by the third day. Another ten had turned back. Six had not escaped from the Wrysa. Twenty had made it to the coast line, but only five teams had made it across the Straight. That Left Nine lost, and fifteen on the far shore or in the water.
Of the teams to make it, only Bastion had lost one… the group third from the rear… Caught in a rockslide they caused.
Only all of hers and Grymsythe had all of their teams cross.
Sanguino had chosen a vampire and her court of blood-pet blood mage wannabes and a quintet of Tervardi. The Blood Mages fell to the Wrysa just before nightfall… She sacrificed her pets to strengthen her magic, only for the Wrysa to eat it and her… before Sanguino could do anything about her violation of Blood Mage Ethics.
"Well it seems that my Chosen Squad is even more twisted than I thought." Adriana huffed as she approached the observer.
"Oh?" Grymsythe sneered. "What now?"
"You heard about the House Elf… now it seems that the Mao wannabe has a familiar Ratha half-breed."
Grymsythe coughed on his tongue. "Any idea what they are here for?"
The image of the Map vanished as the Observer, Snow Point's answer to the Sorting Hat, projected Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. "He is an Adapt class Battle Mage. She is his handler. His core is in flux from separating from bindings as he crossed into the School Wards. She too was bound. I Demand that they be included in the Focus building workshop." The image shifted to show them as they were presently. "He has amassed a following the last week that could rival many small governments. A Lamia Heiress, a third son of the Sky-Lord, and the last descendant of Rashkae k'Leshya." The image shifted. Now four 'humans' stood with the Gryphon. "What they looked like at the signing of the forms." The images of the 'humans' rotated through their alternative forms.
"I smell trouble brewing." Grymsythe smirked. "He is going to die before the end of the year."
Bastion hummed, "I will take that Bet." He grinned at the waxen wizard. "Name your stakes or wager."
Sanguino just laughed.
But only Adriana was watching the three groups in the water… one lashed out with their magic and grappled the wards of the school and hauled their vessel through the storm…
One gathered the tempest of the storm and allowed the howling wind to hurl them to the runway…
The last harnessed the rage of the Waves to catapult their dinghy into the pier…
The three groups landed in a pile just seconds after the clock struck Noon.
TBC
AN: Because of the beak, Griffins in The Valdmar books roll their r and draw out their s