Wizard King chapter 3
The last sparks of the green flames died in the Headmaster's fireplace as Albus stroked his beard, his thoughts circling the once missing but now found Potter, thanks to the Minister visiting him and relating the information he needed to know. Stopping from the small strokes of his beard, he reached over for one of his lemon candies and popped it into his mouth, beginning to suck on the bittersweet candy. "Have I misinterpreted the prophecy? The power that the Dark Lord knows not is not love?" the old wizard pondered. There were many things about the bloodline of Pendragons that were shrouded in mystery. If the stories were true, Merlin used his magic on the wife of Uther Pendragon, who was rumored to be barren, only for her to become heavy with the child the next day, a magical feat that cannot be replicated even today with advancements in magic. There were also the various weapons and items that Arthur obtained throughout his youth and later years - Caliburn, Excalibur, the Twilight Sword, the Fisher King's Triton, and many other relics, including the famed Druidic healing chalice, so famous for its powerful healing properties that Helga Hufflepuff recreated her own.
Looking up at the Headmasters of old and his eyes going up further to the still somewhat animated tapestries of the founders, Albus wondered what great wisdom and knowledge one could obtain if magical portraits were created a few centuries before the founding of Hogwarts. He thought of the great sorcerers and sorceresses, one, in particular, he would have questioned - Salazar, the only one who had trained Merlin when he was already in his teens and a servant to the future King of Camelot.
Squawk
The musical song sounded a little off-tune to most, but its magical effects caught the agent wizard's attention as he turned his gaze towards Fawkes's friend and familiar, who had hopped off of his perch and landed on the desk. The Phoenix leaned down and picked up the note that was left by the Minister, which was an invitation to the coronation. The Phoenix held the note in its beak while staring at its human companion with its black eyes.
"You want me to go, isn't that right, Fawkes?" He couldn't help but smirk at his familiar's antics as he reached over for the note. As he did, the Phoenix released it, and he heard another squawk. Then he watched the Phoenix do something that he hadn't seen since he had bonded with Fawkes after defeating Grindelwald.
Lifting up a wing, Fawkes began digging through his feathers before plucking a golden feather and holding it in his beak, stretching his neck towards his human to present the feather.
Blinking a few times, Albus reached over with his free hand, took the feather, and stared at its powerful and unusually rare magical properties that his familiar had provided. "Is this your gift to the new king?!" he said softly, unable to believe what his familiar was offering. A phoenix feather was both rare in wand lore and rumored to be a key ingredient in creating the Philosopher's Stone.
squawk whistle
In response to the wizard's surprise, Fawkes squawked and whistled, flapping his wings and standing proudly with his chest feathers puffed out. If he could, he would smirk at the expression on his human's face.
Letting out a chuckle, Albus placed the feather in a cardboard magic box for safekeeping until he reached Ollivanders. There was no doubt in the old wizard's mind that the wandmaker would be excited to work with another phoenix feather, especially one that was gold, rather than simply one that had fallen off and not incinerated after Fawkes's burning days.
"Well, I cannot leave such a gift in my drawer. It's about time I found something most appropriate to wear for the upcoming coronation. I might even bring Ollivander along, after all, he needs to take the appropriate measure of his majesty." Albus scooted back his chair and headed off to his private quarters to find his most colorful and decorated robes, possibly the ones that had a mixture of both stars, moons, and a few rocket ships that he had picked up when he had visited the American Ministry.
0O0
A woman, tall and slender with skin as pale as the moon and hair as silver as moonlight, was wearing nearly transparent black robes that looked to be the finest of silks. She was gazing into a pool that dwelled in the heart of their magical aisle. What she was looking at wasn't much of the future, but rather the current present - how things were shifting and how the world would also change because of it. Getting up from her kneeling position near the magical pool of sight, she headed off to the castle that wasn't far from the pool.
As she entered the castle, many guards and servants dropped down to one knee and placed a fist over their heart, showing their respect and loyalty to her, which also extended to her husband whom she entered the throne room of. Her husband, a short, sallow-faced man with pointed ears, a raggedy beard, and sharp eyes, seemed like Puck had pulled one of his jokes on the Lord of Albion again by changing her husband's usual set of robes into something more to the great trickster's style - purples, yellows, and browns.
"I see Puck is at it again, my love. He does enjoy clashing colors with brown," she curtly said before her Lord, King, and husband.
The Fay dwarf simply scowled and grumbled, "Whenever that Trickster slips up, I'll be there to strangle the fool with my own hands if he ever chooses to reveal himself in my presence within this century for what he has done to many of my things." He growled and fumed, his eyes turning red, filled with Fay magic.
She placed a delicate, pale hand over her ruby red lips in order to hide the smirk that Puck had gotten on the bad side of the king again. "As much as I would like to let you vent your anger by going on a grand hunt for the trickster, that should be delayed for some time yet," she said after lowering her hand, recovering from her almost slip of her regal lady attire to nearly laugh at her husband's misfortune caused by the resident trickster of their lands.
His anger towards Puck and the idea of marshaling the Wild Hunt was waylaid by his wife's words, who never really told him to delay whatever he was going to do, not for a long time, not since they had attended the coronation of Arthur. "May I ask why to delay my hunt and deliver the inevitable punishment to the trickster? Is there something of grand importance that needs me to delay my retribution?" he spat out of annoyance and anger, not towards his wife but mostly towards the situation.
She was unfazed by her husband's harsh and rude tongue. She had centuries to get used to it; she was even able to curve it at times and tempered his fury, especially when they both conducted the moves as the rulers of the Fay. Hopefully, he would conduct himself as the ruler of Avalon. "The reason to delay your retribution is that we will be attending the coronation of the first wizard King of Arthur's line, the first that has been generated for the last 1,000 years that we had blessed his lineage and assisted my bastard son with the crafting of the kingdom of Albion, with Camelot being its center," she replied and watched the mixture of emotions on her husband's face at the mention of Merlin, her bastard son, whom she had crafted while being in the body of a woman who was buried and laid with one of the last Dragon Lords. She stayed within the woman's body until her half-son was born and left him with a few gifts buried in the depths of his mind to fulfill his role as the prophecy that she had foreseen for him. Her husband's anger towards her infidelity wasn't for the fact that she had laid with a man; no, it was the fact that she birthed a half-human, half-Fay child as her first child and denied her husband his first of his line. Due to the fact that she was quite powerful, she refused to simply submit under his power when he demanded her to perform her duties as both a lady and a queen.
His eyes turned a brighter shade of red as smoke and steam came out of his nostrils and ears for a brief moment before he closed his eyes and calmed himself down, with the three weird sisters gently touching and stroking beside his head. "Exactly why should we attend this coronation? We have already been to the last king who was sired through Magic by your bastard son. Why should I see the descendant of bastards, legitimized or otherwise, be crowned?" he dubiously asked his wife and queen. He hadn't attended for the last thousand years of those who had put on the crown or had cast it down, either through poison, blade trickery, or other measures that would allow one to ascend to the throne of Britain. Why should now be any different if he chose not to attend?
As usual, Titania smiled with those ruby red lips of hers and even showed a bit of her fangs, which had often unnerved her husband many times when she decided to show them. "It is because a magical child is being crowned, my magical child of my magic and blood, my grandchild through Merlin and his magic. Turning a barren woman who was raised from a scullery made into a lady within Uther's Court and became heavy with child, a child that helped conquer and unify Britain, who had gotten rid of the dark Fae and their cursed relics, who helped defeat my dark sister and her daughter Morgana, imprisoned in the Crystal Cave. I would like to see how the fruits of my labor finally are crowned as the first magical King since the time of the old ways sits upon the throne and claims all the gifts that have been conquered, taken, and earned. Perhaps even the old ways will return under my grandson's rule," she explained. As she did so, lightning arched around her, along with the wind moving of its own accord around her, making her transparent robes move and sway in a way that emphasized she was not going to be denied at seeing this coronation, even if she had to use some of her power to urge her husband into moving towards his chambers to smarten himself up into something befitting of the king of the Fae.
He cowered a bit in his throne at his Queen's power and at the same time, he feared her power when properly enraged. He felt the surge of desire that had fueled him into trying to claim her as his Queen, despite those of his own Court warning him against it. She accepted the role of becoming Queen even though she had never entered his bed chambers and never allowed him to touch her. But a queen like her was worth keeping on his side and ruling, even if it came with no benefits besides her power. "If this truly means much to you, my queen, my lady, my love, I will attend the coronation, but I am not going to be delivering any more boons. I have given plenty to Arthur Pendragon, as you have done as well. We'll only be going to pay our respects as rulers to another ruler." As soon as he said those words, he could feel the pressure of his wife's power becoming less oppressive, and the thickness of her power in the air was becoming lighter as he submitted under her declaration.
"Good. I'll be in my chambers dressing more appropriately. I hope you know how to still change into a human. After all, there are not too many short people that will be attending this momentous occasion," she playfully needled at her husband's short demeanor. Sure, as a Fey, he could change his form and shape whenever he desired, yet the true form that a Fey takes is the one that they were always born with, and her husband was a short thing, just as short as the dwarves of the Iron Mountain in the continent of Europe. His ugly, stern face made him a perfect match for goblins, and at times, she would often call him the high king of goblins whenever she felt agitated with his needling about her refusal to be with him.
Just as before, his eyes glowed red, steam and smoke coming out of his nostrils and ears. It was not like he didn't try to change his form; he went as far as the heart of his kingdom to see if he could not change his form into something more striking. He had seen many other iterations of himself across the ether, where he was tall with ash skin and silver hair, with handsome sharp features that would make many a maiden swoon, but he could not alter his true form, even though he thought that would be the best thing he could do to charm his wife into truly being his wife for once. Alas, such powers were beyond him. "I am still as skilled at taking a human form as I once was a thousand years ago. It would be no simple matter for me to assume the guise of a human, especially a modern one. I, too, have been watching as the human world changes. I just hope you don't try to run off desiring any more of your bastard children," that last part came out scathing as he got up from his throne and waddled towards his chambers.
If he did look to see if his words had any effect on his wife, she would only see her having a challenging gleam in her eye as if the idea of finding another male human specimen to lay with was oh so tempting. But there had not been another since she had laid with the Dragonlord thousands of years ago, and all other children she had in between then were just the use of her magic - a potion, tonic, an amulet to enhance one's beauty, or a simple enchantment. Not truly her children, but by proxy, yes. Maybe her grandson would have some relative of his that would strike her fancy. That last bit in her thoughts circled around a few times as she headed off to her chambers, shed her robes, and picked something that was fairly modern and decent, like any other businesswoman attending the greatest celebration one could have in Britain.
0O0
Harry didn't know what to do. For the first time in his life, he was being cared for and loved by his third and fourth cousins, Andromeda and Nymphadora Tonks. Now, within a few minutes, he was going to attend a ceremony being performed by the Archbishop of the Church of England for his coronation in front of the largest gathering of people who were invited, both mundane and magical, according to those who were in the know and informed him of such things. Part of him wanted to throw up from nervousness, yet he managed to use some levels of Occlumency to help him deal with his feelings.
"Still looking at yourself in the mirror, little Harry?" teased Nymphadora as she walked into the changing room where Harry was wearing the freshly made outfit. She had a wide grin on her face, further enhanced by her shapeshifting abilities to make it even wider. She noticed a bit of red glowing on Harry's cheeks.
"I could have been nude, you know. You can't just barge in here, Tonks!" Harry tried to sound serious, but due to his age and proper dieting, his voice came out more of a squeak than a proper yell.
Still with a grin on her face, Nymphadora lightly flicked Harry on the nose playfully. "Little cousin, I'll be barging into your room whenever it's necessary. After all, Alastor Moody is making me his official apprentice early, and one of my duties in between training is to be your bodyguard. My dear old dad is my boss in regards to magical security, while my mom is your magical physician." She countered his argument, teasing him whenever she had the chance.
"Please, Nym, stop. I'm nervous as it is. I don't need the teasing," Harry begged with his emerald puppy dog eyes.
Nymphadora let out an evil cackle as she ruffled Harry's hair. "I'll stop picking on you today, but after that, we're doubling your magical training. Mom wants you up to snuff when you go to Hogwarts, since you'll be claiming headship of Potter, Peverell, and Black in accordance with the old laws of your emancipation."
Before anything further could be said, the well-dressed and well-mannered Chamberlain who looked eerily similar to his former uncle entered the fitting room and politely nodded at Nymphadora. He then did his best bow before his future king, which was difficult due to his large girth. "Your Majesty, we're almost ready. We apologize for the delay. The minister seemed to think that wearing outfits ill-suited even for a gesture from the 15th century was the most appropriate attire. Fortunately, Madam Bones corrected the outfit before the non-magical portion of the realm would start to attend." He ushered Harry towards the exit of the fitting room and led him towards the coronation chamber.
Harry slowly marched towards his Chamberlain, with Nymphadora by his side, casting spells to ensure his outfit was in place. As he approached the coronation chamber, he couldn't help but feel nervous and excited. Today, Harry Potter, an orphan child who had no one to care for him, was about to don a crown and become the most important person in all of Britain and its territories.
Finally, they arrived at the two ornate doors that slowly opened, revealing a large room with a large group of people parallel to each other, directing their focus on the boy of the hour. As his cousin, Nymphadora, walked off to the side, giving him an encouraging smile and gesturing her hand forward. Turning his head forward, he doubled the efforts of his mental barriers, allowing him to stand straight and proper as he confidently and assuredly started walking forward. As he did so, he could hear muttering and the clicking sounds of distant cameras. He could see, in the corner of his eye, some cameras recording the event, following his movements as he made his way towards the bishop of the Church of Britain. in his mind It seemed to be a mile between the entrance of this chamber and the waiting bishop, and right next to the holy man was a colorful royal guard holding onto a pillow where rested the most powerful object in all of Britain's history. As soon as he was close enough to truly look at it, he could see the number of gemstones adorning the inlays of gold that brought attention to the crown's other colors. When he wasn't examining the crown, he looked at the bishop, who gave him a warm smile and gestured for him to take a knee, just as they had practiced in the days leading up to today.
Dropping down onto one knee, he listened as the bishop spoke in Latin, picking up some phrases thanks to the spells he had been practicing with Andromeda. The rest was beyond him for the moment. The bishop grabbed hold of the crown and held it in the air, "Let his name and Legacy Reign for the ages through great trial, through great tragedy. Hail his name, Uther Peverell, first of his name," the bishop announced as he slowly lowered the crown onto the new Sovereign head of the Holy Church of Britain, protector and servant of the Commonwealth, their new king.
As soon as the crown was placed on his head, the raven-haired boy felt an incredible itch starting from the crown of his head, slowly creeping down into a cool tingling sensation through his body. He closed his eyes briefly, recognizing what was happening. After all, he had been medically examined by his older cousin through her diagnostic charms, but this felt much different, ancient and powerful. He felt as if he was being judged within the brief moment that the feeling came over him. It quickly ended, and he stood up with eyes open, facing the massive group that looked upon him with reverence.
Music began playing as people recited the British anthem with music in the background, mixing with their voices into a loud cacophony of sound that lasted for a little while. Soon after, he had rested on the ancient throne, just like the crown, he could feel old magics creeping into his bones from the stone that rested underneath the chair to the individual carvings that whispered within his own magic of the various wards that he could now access throughout his new home.
After another hour, everything seemed to calm down, and catering was in full effect as a select few people were allowed to interact with their new king.
Cornelius was trying to readjust the transfigured clothing but now looks like a muggle business suit, as Madame Bones forcibly changed them. He dared not complain against one of the few who could truly challenge them in the political Arena. He was wearing a red and blue checkered outfit along with a double-pointed hat, though he was thankful that he didn't have to wear those ridiculous tight-wearing shorts that came with the outfit, according to historical records, or the feathered-covered shoes. Right now, he wouldn't complain as much, wanting to get into the good graces of his new king as he slowly approached the podium where Harry Potter, now royally named Uther Peverell, was sitting on the ancient throne. "It is good to see you, Your Highness. I am thankful that I can attend your greatest moment in your young life," he said respectfully as he bowed before his highness.
"Yes, it is the greatest day of my young life, yet the cost of having such a great day seems to be too much to make it so grand at my expense," Harry stated, remembering his distant cousins that were now gone, forcing him to take their place where none could fill such an important position to those who are directly descended from Arthur's line.
It was surprising to hear how humbled and sorrowful the boy was on the loss of his distant cousins, even though they were muggles. He would not insult the memory of those who have passed, whether they be mundane or not. "Then allow me to express my condolences for the loss of the queen and the princes. They are now with those of their ancestors," he respectively replied, watching the boy's reaction. Hopefully, Cornelius didn't say anything that would jeopardize the relationship, not only with Harry Potter but also with the king.
Harry simply nodded silently as he looked over to his cousin and gave Andromeda a warm smile. As she approached, his smile turned into surprise as she positioned herself in front of him and knelt down with her head bent low and a fist placed over her heart. "Your Highness, forgive my impertinence, but I could not wait any longer to speak with you on a very important matter in regards to a family member of mine, two in particular," the former daughter of the House of Black spoke very formally, in the same manner that she would have spoken with any of the great Noble houses of magical Britain. She knew that she could have easily asked her cousin of what she was about to ask in private, but she wanted to do it in front of the minister to make everything official, to see that both her cousin and her sister were freed from Azkaban.
The only one that was surprised and confused was the minister, while Harry was already mentally prepared, thanks to the various practices that his cousin had given him in the event that someone from either the Wizarding side or the non-wizarding side would approach him for a request that only someone of the highest courts would make of him. Even though his authority and power were limited due to his age and certain bylaws that his ancestors had made, making governing the Commonwealth easier. "Then speak of these two members of your family," he commanded, as much authority as his young voice could carry, which almost sounded like a childish squeak.
Raising her head and giving her young cousin a warm smile, "I request a proper trial for Sirius Black, and I would like a retrial of Bellatrix Black after the Unspeakables remove the binding contract on her," she spoke with the elegance and strength expected of the daughter of the House of Black. If she were looking, she would see the shocked and indignant looks coming from the minister, his undersecretary, and even Amelia Bones' expression matched that of those she accompanied.
"Ridiculous! Everyone knows Black is guilty; he admitted it. I was there when I apprehended him. As for your sister, she was already given a trial, and she confessed everything," the minister shouted after he had recovered from his shock at the request given by the disgraced daughter of the House of Black.
Andromeda stood up, glaring at the minister with the type of glare that would see lesser men runand make even the strongest of men quiver under such glaring scrutiny. "With my new position as the Royal physician, I have requested the transcripts of my cousin Sirius's trial, of which there were none. As for my sister, she was put into a Lestrange binding contract, making her virtually a slave. That is the reason why I chose Ted over Rodolphus," she explained her reasoning for wanting her sister and cousin freed, especially her sister, someone whom she loved and found to be the most rebellious of many of her family members. That was until she was forcibly made to sign the contract, turning her into nothing more than a pawn for the Dark Lord and his followers.
The back-and-forth argument was starting to get out of hand with name calling, only for Harry to feel a bubbling, heating sensation in his being as he spoke out with a thunderous boom, "Enough!" his voice thundered, and thanks to many of the Muggles who were not in the know being removed, it would be odd for them to hear an 11-year-old with a voice similar to the thunderous voice they would consider God's voice.
Everyone turned their attention back to the boy who was still wearing the crown on his head, and those who were magically strong enough to see would be able to glean a great deal of magical energy surging off of him and his throne. Even those who could not see could sense the waves of energy rippling through the air. "If there are innocents wrongfully imprisoned, I want to know. I may be new to my station, but I am not ignorant of the histories that the historians have educated me on. If two of my cousins were wrongfully imprisoned, I expect the ministry to fulfill their obligations in accordance with the second clause of the Treaty of Self-Governance that my ancestor King John signed with some additional clause. He added so the Wizarding community would be led by fair and just hands," his voice didn't carry the booming tone that he had started with, but it still carried power and an indomitable amount of will.
The minister went through several shades of paleness, hearing his King speak, while the undersecretary looked indignant at how assertive the boy was already acting upon his power towards the ministry. Whether he be king or not, the boy had no right to command the minister, at least in Umbridge's mind.
"I... I... I'll see to it and make sure everything was truly done by the book," Cornelius stammered a bit as he spoke, his head bowed, afraid of angering this child who could make his political career more difficult than it needed to be.
Amelia was displeased but curious, and most likely she would be heading the investigation into the two Blacks. If Sirius really was innocent, she would question her predecessor and question the wisdom of locking up the last male member of such an ancient Noble house without a proper trial. As for the other, she was only half as curious, only because she didn't know whether to believe the farfetched tale of a binding contract, something that was seldom used among Wizarding families, but still worth investigating. "Do not worry, Your Highness. I will personally look into the matters regarding your two cousins. I will even get Alistair on the case, though he will not thank you for the additional work," she added her willingness to assist the minister in this delicate matter.
After that, the ministry officials left to mingle among their constituents, especially the minister who was hovering around a blonde-haired man giving Harry the stink eye for some reason. The next person to approach him was a man as old as his beard was long, wearing Half Moon spectacles and a purple set of robes decorated with stars and crescent moons, along with an equally colorful hat. Sitting on his right shoulder was the prettiest and strangest looking bird he had ever seen, with eyes as black as onyx gems.
"Salutations, Your Majesty. I am Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," the aged wizard spoke with a twinkling gleam in his eyes as he bowed his head respectfully. The bird on his shoulder let out a not so pleasant squawk and pecked at Dumbledore's head. He chuckled before reaching up and lightly stroking the chest of his familiar. "Oh yes, I can't forget dear old Fawkes, the only Phoenix that has graced the British Isles with his presence. Just don't let him know where you keep your sweets; he is known to gobble them all in a single sitting," he chuckled as his familiar began picking at his head a few times.
This time, Harry genuinely smiled and almost fought the urge to laugh at the antics of both the Phoenix and the aged wizard. For the short time they had interacted with one another, right before the bird let out another squawk and flew off the old man's shoulder, resting on the wooden throne that Harry was sitting on.
~He's so troublesome at times, even for being 110 years old, he acts like a wizard 1/3 of his age,~ a voice Harry wasn't familiar with spoke, causing Harry to look around in mild confusion before looking up at the bird that was readjusting his feathers on his wing.
"Call me mad, but did you just speak?" Harry couldn't help but be dumbfounded, asking the bird. He then glanced over at the old wizard, who had a curious glint in his sparkling eyes.
~Yes, I did speak. You're sitting on a very ancient chair with an even older rock, many of which have been used in rituals of some kind by the ancient Druids. That includes magic that allow the breakdown of barriers between speaking with creatures of myth and legend, including phoenixes,~ Fawkes explained what he knew of the chair and the ancient stone it was attached to. Though the Phoenix could never truly speak a complete historical accounting of these two magical objects merged together through a combination of historical events, being around since the time of written history, Fawkes had heard various stories and rumors during his youth. Him being here was just to confirm his own curiosity, though it had been a long while since he attended a coronation, especially one so favored by Fate.
Dumbledore allowed Fawkes to engage in whatever light-hearted conversation he was having with the young boy, giving him the opportunity to reach into his sleeve and pull out a Hogwarts letter. His wrist was immediately grabbed by a student of his, someone he had only seen at the end of last year. "Miss Nymphadora?!" he exclaimed in surprise as she firmly grabbed hold of his wrist, which contained the acceptance letter that he had personally taken the responsibility of delivering.
Even though she was new to her position as the official bodyguard of her cousin's retinue, and had no other authority above her besides the leader of the royal guard, Tonks took her new duties seriously. Even mistaking Albus for reaching into his sleeve for a simple letter, compared to the millions of other things that coursed through her mind when she watched the movement, set off a number of alarm bells. Whether it was a muggle gun or a knife, anything less than her immediate reaction to grab hold of the wrist and raise the arm away from the person she had sworn to protect would have been an insult to her instructor and her own name. Though she feared her instructor more, she could only imagine what Alistair would do if she did not react accordingly to what was expected of her. "Forgive me, Professor; you can blame Alistair for my rough handling of you," she apologized as she let go of his wrist, seeing the letter.
With his wrist freed, he looked at it for a brief moment, knowing that he would soon develop a bruise. He could only give a twinkling smile at Nymphadora, who was giving him an annoyed glare for calling her by her first name. "All is well, Miss Tonks; you're performing your duties as expected, and I expect nothing less from one of Alistair's proteges. Amelia happens to be your predecessor, personally trained by Alistair himself. Perhaps when you're not guarding His Grace, you could try to strike up a rapport with the head of Magical Law Enforcement." He watched the girl's reaction to that little reveal that Amelia was a former student of Alistair. From what he remembered, young Nymphadora admired the former Hufflepuff, who was the first in a long line of Hufflepuffs to become a member of the most prestigious office, second only to the minister's seat.
With the girl distracted, he took one step closer to Harry and presented the letter. "I should be seeing you this coming September. Hopefully, you get all the items that are on your list, though one of them will be here shortly," he cryptically said as he watched Harry take the letter, open it, and read its contents, including the list. He saw the puzzled expression on the boy's face, wondering, no doubt, what item would be coming.
If anyone could be out of place, Ollivander was definitely one of the few who could come to a royal coronation wearing only a butterfly tie around his neck, along with his weathered and dust-covered robes, while also carrying a leather shoulder bag that contained a surplus of wands, staffs, and other magical items that he very rarely sold to the average wizard. "Greetings, Your Highness. I hope your coronation is well," the wandmaker said, bowing his head and bending his body in a manner that denoted respect towards his sovereign.
~Oh yes, this is the one who has taken a certain item of my personage under his tender care and crafted quite something mighty and powerful, worthy of a king.~ Fawkes telepathically communicated, letting out a playful, song-like squawk as the ancient force of nature that he was could sense the powerful magic of his feather, along with the less powerful items that were in the ancient wizard's collection in his leather bag.
Looking between the cryptic phoenix that was sitting on the head of his chair and the less formally dressed wizard who looked like he was in the wrong era based on his robes, he opened up an ancient-looking leather bag and began fishing out something from his bag before pulling out a large cabinet with a number of drawers. Before he could even question it, Harry was presented with a stick that was similar to the one he had seen Tonks, Ted, and Andromeda often wield to perform amazing feats of magic. Without thinking about it, he reached over and grabbed hold of the magical instrument, but immediately it was snatched out of his hand, leaving with a confused expression that also hinted at anger as he was about to see if he could cast a spell just as he had seen his two cousins perform when they were helping him heal from his relatives' ill treatment of him.
"Be patient, young king. He knows what wand you are destined for, but he is reluctant to give it up. That's why he does this little game with all the young magicals," Fawkes communicated with Harry while also letting out a calming musical high note that filled the small space shared by those closest to the throne.
The note coming from the magical bird definitely helped him not become frustrated with the half a dozen wands he was allowed to wave. He watched as a number of thickly colored spells zoomed around him, while the wand in question went limp in his hands and another simply burst into flames. After a few more wands, Harry was given the one that was destined for him, and he felt a deep inner warmth as a golden shower surrounded him with dancing sparks beginning to spew out of the tip of his new magical focus.
Ollivander had the look of excitement after playing with the young king, watching the various wands he had crafted and some his father had crafted. Yet he knew which one best fitted the young boy; after all, he had received the ingredient to create it. "Made of ancient elderwood, 13 inches, with a golden phoenix feather core—a wand of both power and majesty," he said, closing his eyes for a brief moment and remembering everything that had gone into the wand's creation. If anyone had magical sight, they would see a number of runes on the most powerful creation that the wand crafter had created throughout his career as a magical craftsman.
Albus looked at the wand for a brief moment and couldn't help but feel a slight tingling warmth from his own Elder Wand, as if the magical focus was being challenged by a young and equally powerful object. Fortunately, the elder wizard knew how to keep a rein on the Death Stick more efficiently compared to the previous owners and forced it back into submission with his will. "A beautiful wand indeed. I suspect great things from you, Your Grace," he smirked, having stolen the line from Ollivander, who gave him a stink-eye look for a brief moment, all while the Headmaster simply had amused smile and a twinkle in his eyes.
With the wand craftsman done with his task, he picked up the largest assortment of wands and the cabinet, shoved it back into his shoulder bag, and went over to the catering, helping himself to whatever confections and other delicacies he would munch on, if not store in his leather bag for later consumption.
The one crafter was quickly replaced by an Odd Couple. They were wearing the modern trappings of dignified individuals, but the oddity only came from the one who was sitting on the throne. Harry could see past the veil of illusions over them that almost seemed like mist hovering about them. More than that, he could see a woman who looked to be the same age as Andromeda Tonks—if his cousin had green, pale skin like an olive, pointed ears protruding from her rosy red hair. Standing to her left was a squat, ugly little man who looked like a goblin without looking as if he were a goblin.
Smiling a bit, the woman took a step closer towards the young monarch, only to be blocked by the young teen whose hair color was shifting from a nice pink to a cautious red. From her point of view, the Odd Couple looked human: a woman with tan skin, red hair, and green eyes, and her husband, a surly-looking man who seemed uncomfortable in his suit as he readjusted it. "Keep a fair distance from His Majesty, or I might have to break protocol to shove my boot up your collective asses," Tonks said, equal parts playful but also a warning. Most likely, she would never make a joking threat towards Dumbledore, but with these two individuals, she would most likely do as she had warned.
The lady of the Fey blinked in mild shock at this human witch who had threatened to shove her unsightly boots up her bum, all while wearing a mischievous smile. Furthermore, she could sense that the girl was a shapeshifter of a kind, reminding her of one of her many servants who often played with shapeshifting and had left for the human realm, never to return. Was this girl the fruit of such prolonged absence from returning to Avalon? "Pardon my manners; I was just eager to meet His Highness as well as bear gifts, just as many others have and others still will give." She bowed her head before the protective guardian of His Highness before reaching into her sleeve and pulling out a golden sheet that sparkled in the light of the throne room. Its flexible surface, like that of a blanket, reflected everything, but before she could even hand it to the king, the same girl from earlier blocked her and extended a hand as if the shapeshifting girl was requesting it to be handed over. Before it could be properly given to its true owner, bowing to court etiquette and what was expected, Titania handed the overprotective witch the golden cloth.
While his lady was bold enough to approach His Highness, her husband was of a different mold compared to his wife. He didn't approach; he simply dropped onto one knee and bowed his head respectfully from one king to another, as was expected. Even though he had no intention to actually come, except for his lady insisting, he would still show the same behavior that he would expect of his own subjects in his own court. "Just as my lady has presented you with a gift, I too bear a gift of my own, though nothing as fancy as what my lady presented, but far more precious." Holding up his right hand, his fingers twirled around before a black stone appeared in his palm. Instead of trying to hand it to the king, he uncomfortably rose to his feet and walked towards the bodyguard of His Highness, handing it to the girl.
With the gifts given, the two Fey did not linger for too long. Like other guests, they helped themselves to the various confections.
"I don't believe they're on the guest list, and I'll have to examine these items," Tonks commented as she looked at the golden fabric in her hand and couldn't help but notice how soft it was. As for the black stone, she felt a cold sensation running up her arm and tickling her spine in an unpleasant way. She was half convinced in that instant that she had just been cursed, but the unpleasant sensation immediately vanished as if whatever magic was in the stone had returned to it.
He looked at his bodyguard for a brief moment before glancing at the phoenix that was looking down at him. "What were they?" he asked the bird, hoping that the phoenix would tell him more than what he had just seen.
~"The fairy folk have decided to visit your court, Your Highness, though I would consider keeping those gifts they have given you as close as possible, as close as family artifacts are concerned,"~ Fawkes advised, his black eyes moving towards the two objects being handled. As a creature of pure magic, like most elemental expressions of magic, he could see the true power of the stone as well as the golden fabric. Both would aid the young king in whatever adventures he chose to undertake, but he could not truly reveal the nature of these objects, for it wasn't his place to do so, and it was not in his best interest to meddle in the affairs of other races that were none of his own.
The next people to greet the new king were the goblins. Fortunately, many people were already in the know about the goblins in this public setting. Though the cameras were turned off, other forms of communication had been disabled. The goblin warrior king and his heir, both in full armor with their helmets tucked under their right armpits and their swords attached to their left hips, demonstrated a tradition of goblins to show fellow monarchs that they came here not to draw blades. The leather tying the guard to the hilt of their blades also signified how fragile their willingness to not draw blood was—this was incredibly thin. "Greetings, kin of Arthur Pendragon. I am King Ragnuk, Slayer of Dragons and head of the Goblin Bank of Britain. This is my heir. We are here to present you with your royal key to Vault 0, along with a token of our allegiance to the lineage of Pendragon and the realm." Looking towards his son, he gestured for the young prince to present the items: a goblin-forged sword, a replica of the famous sword Excalibur, and a golden key laying next to the pristine blade.
This time, Nymphadora did not step in and stop the goblins from carrying out their traditional ways; lest she find herself bleeding out on the ground. She was good with her hexes and defensive magic, but she doubted that she could battle against two of the most powerful goblins on the Isles. That, and she didn't want to start another goblin war, though she would most likely get an earful from someone for allowing someone to bring a sharp blade towards the new monarch.
Without getting up from his throne, Harry simply reached over and grabbed the hilt of the blade and looked at it. The shiny metal steel glimmered; there was a great deal of magic poured into this blade, but it felt off, as if it did not fit him. As for the golden key, he simply tucked it into one of the pockets of his little royal attire. He then set the blade back down onto the fabric it was sitting on when it was presented to him, only to watch it be properly sheathed and set next to his throne. "I thank you for these gifts, noble goblin warriors. You do your ancestors proud by honoring my alliance between the crown and the goblins, Let It reign for a thousand more years." The words that came out of his mouth weren't his own but rather what the throne was conveying through him.
The Goblin King nodded his head, agreeing with those words. "We shall honor and strengthen the covenant. May your magic flow as freely as molten gold, and may your enemies fear the iron spit that you shall hang their heads before your great hearth and hall," the Goblin King said respectfully before taking a few steps backward, along with his heir, who were doing the same, moving to the side in an effort not to turn their backs on the monarch.
~"Goblins are quite strange creatures, but they're far better compared to what they originally were when they were savages who did more than just simply hoard gold back in the olden days."~ Again, Fawkes commented on those who had approached the young monarch. It was only when the next set of people approached the Phoenix that he began to feel a thrill within his being; his onyx-colored eyes momentarily glazed over before his own internal magic corrected the allure he was falling prey to. He was not the only one, as his human familiar was also having some difficulties, as were every other man who gazed upon the silver-haired blondes that approached.
Both Harry and Nymphadora got an eyeful of three beautiful, almost silver-blonde-haired women who wore loose dresses that seemed to flow in an unseen wind. The central woman was a little taller compared to her two escorts and had a warm smile that almost made one feel as if they were standing before a nice, warm summer day. All the while, that same central woman was looking around before her attention was fixed on the throne.
The Veela Queen looked around and noticed how many magical and non-magical men were staring at her beauty. It was fortunate that she had strong control over her own allure; had she not, everyone here—every man and possibly woman—would be at her feet, wanting to garner her attention and willing to give her anything she wanted. Fortunately, she wasn't that type of Veela, and she did not want to perpetuate the bad history that Veela often faced. "So this is the famous Harry Potter, who survived the impossible! And now wear a crown? Fortune truly favors you, Your Highness." She bowed her head out of respect. Once her head was raised, she looked at her two chaperones, who were Veela carrying two separate gifts. "A crystal goblet from the conclaves of Southern Europe. It will neutralize any poisons and potions that fall into this goblet, as well as mark the one who dared try such a heinous act," she explained, gesturing for his royal bodyguard to take the goblet from her chaperone. After seeing others having many of their items and gifts taken by this witch, she did not want to anger the Wizarding Authority of this land—not yet. She then looked towards the other Veela, who had a magical miniature harp. "This harp has been blessed with Veela song magic. Just simply touch it and think of the type of music that you wish to listen to, it will play it it can even create new music for you," she explained again and, just like before, gestured for her chaperone to give the magical instrument to the waiting witch. After that, the Veela Queen gave one final bow and left.
~"One of these days, I'm going to convince my human familiar to change me into a human at least once—just once—so I can tangle feathers with a beauty like that. Who knows? I might introduce some red-gold feathers into the royal lineage of the Veela,"~ the Phoenix excitedly chirped, staring at the silver-haired women who were starting to mingle with the others, all while leaving Harry confused at what the avian was suggesting he would like to do to the pretty women.
With the gifts done and Harry getting tired of sitting on the throne, he got up and went to the catering table, helping himself to whatever food was available, all while his visible and invisible guards followed him and suddenly cast detection spells in case someone slipped something into his food. So far, the excitement of the affair of his coronation and gift-receiving had slowed things down and almost seemed that everything was about to go uneventful until a certain crash.
Lucius Malfoy was clutching at his chest, gritting his teeth as he dropped onto the floor, staring up hatefully at the most horrible, disgusting creature he had ever gazed upon. Despite being the image of perfection, but he could see other ugliness underneath as he saw her hand was raised in a clutching manner, and red lightning danced between her fingertips and thumb, her blue eyes glowing sinisterly.
"I see that the curse I placed upon your family when they stole one of my daughters is still active. That's good to know; it keeps you goat fuckers in your place," she said humorously, even though there was no hint of humor—only cold malice in her words—as she ever so tightly clutched her open palm in a claw-like gesture, nearly closing her fist, causing the man lying on the ground to gasp even harder, feeling the painful curse sending new waves of agony through his being.
If he could, Lucius would compare this pain to being worse than his Dark Lord's Cruciatus; if anything, it would be a gentle slap in the face compared to this pain. This pain that he inherited from his ancestor was due to the first Malfoy who was welcomed in court but couldn't keep control of himself and stole a princess—not just any princess, but a Veela princess. To make matters worse, once the princess had given his ancestor a son, he abandoned her, leaving her alone and depressed, ultimately resulting in her taking her life. Ever since then, the Malfoys had been cursed—either through that creature that had ended her life or the vengeful mother he was now facing, who inflicted this blight upon his family, just as much as the blonde hair he now bore along with every other Malfoy, signifying that the curse still lingered within their blood. "Unhand me with your foul magic, creature! This is Britain, not France; you have no right to use your foul magic upon me!" he yelled at the queen of all Veela.
The sinister smile that she had on her face quickly turned into a sneer as the glowing blue in her eyes became even brighter and lighter in coloration, as she increasing the painful curse upon this arrogant Malfoy. Her hands began to slowly take on avian-like characteristics, and feathers were starting to form around her wrists.
"Enough!" A booming voice rang through the throne room. The source of this voice was the boy who had drawn so much attention, both internationally and nationally. Harry looked between the two adults, unsure of what exactly was going on, but he didn't care; today was his coronation and his birthday. The last thing he wanted was to have this day ruined because two adults wanted to act like children.
Raising her chin, the Veela Queen turned her back to the Malfoy. "Forgive me, Your Highness. I simply stumbled into something foul; I did not mean to sully your important day. I'll make sure to make the appropriate recompense for causing this little childish incident." Her tone and words were both crisp and polite, yet she turned her head and glanced at Malfoy, who was stumbling to his feet, still clutching at his chest due to the lingering effects of the curse that had yet to subside. 'Had I my way, you and your lineage would end this day, but I must save my revenge for last. Mark my words, Malfoys will not see the turning of the millennia,' she thought to herself before walking off to get a few nibbles of food.
At the end of the day, Harry had retired to Buckingham Palace with a few items and gifts that were cleared of anything harmful—at least from the magical side of things. From the Muggle side, he had every toy he could imagine, including a few of the newest game systems, even some that had yet to reach the marketplace, all in an effort to gain his attention and favor. How he had been treated as that boy beneath the cupboard, hardly getting a crumb of food, instead having to work even harder and being called a burden.
"Well, aren't you the luckiest boy on Earth, receiving so many toys and gifts? Makes me wonder if I have royalty in my blood," Nymphadora said playfully as she picked up a random action figure modeled after Batman.
Adronima let out an amused snort at her daughter's comment. "Once we're able to get back into the Black Manor, I'll show you that we descended from one of King Arthur's knights, as we are both a Knightly house and Dukes by our own right, just as the Slytherins are archdukes along with Gryffindor House, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw," she said lightly, revealing some of her family history to her mostly ignorant daughter, who never had much knowledge of the Black family. Most Wizarding families didn't know much about the Blacks other than that they were ancient, dark, and incredibly wealthy, even though most of that wealth came from the various raids King Arthur launched against Viking invaders and their encampments, along with other unallied kingdoms.
Turning to look at his two cousins, Harry gave both a smile. "I may have gained a new responsibility with my coronation, and it may be my birthday, but meeting you two for the first time was the best day of my life. This has nothing compared to that day," he said honestly. His fourth cousin, Nymphadora, walked over and began ruffling his already messy black hair, making it even messier than it currently was, which got a laugh from him.
"You'll have better days than just meeting us, little cuz. Once Sirius gets out, things will get even more fun," Tonks said while her cousin tried to slap her hand away from his already disheveled hair. She let out a cackling laugh at his efforts to fend her off from his raven locks.
To the side, Adronima hoped that her cousin Sirius would finally get his trial, especially with the royal decree that had been given. Maybe, just maybe, she would be welcomed back into the family; her marriage would also be honored. After all, she managed to produce a child who had now brought back the family magic with her birth—something that she would like to rub in the faces of her aunt's portrait. Also, the fact that she was now the Royal Physician of His Highness was something that no witch could ever imagine being in the position of, including her husband, who was the official magical royal protectorate, and her daughter, who was the assistant/apprentice under her husband's guidance. If anything, she had done better than any of the Blacks had ever imagined doing, landing in the royal courts of Britain. She could reign fact over the Malfoys and every other so-called noble house of purebloods from this day to the next millennia and beyond.
BTC
I apologize immensely for taking so long to posting this next chapter. Things have gotten out of control in my life, from my muse bouncing around and making me write this story and that story, to being distracted by the latest shiny thing ever. On top of that, my finances have been challenging, and I won't even start on my own health and mental health struggles.
I hope those who are still interested in the story continue to follow and comment on this chapter. I'll try to post more chapters with the same level of quality and quantity. I hope all of you can find it in your hearts to forgive my absence.
On another note, I might toy with the idea that Lily Potter, née Evans, may have some royal blood of her own—of a different kind—but only time will tell how things pan out.
I hope you all enjoy this chapter, and I look forward to seeing your reviews and comments.
