Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/7636735.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Major_Character_Death, Rape/Non-Con,
      Underage
  Category:
      F/F, F/M, Multi
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Hermione_Granger/Harry_Potter, Harry_Potter/Violet_Potter, Hermione
      Granger/Melody_Granger, Harry_Potter/Harem
  Character:
      Harry_Potter, Hermione_Granger, violet_potter, Draco_Malfoy, Melody
      Granger, Dior_Malfoy, Ron_Weasley, Albus_Dumbledore, Lily_Evans_Potter,
      Lucius_Malfoy, Nymphadora_Tonks, Sirius_Black, Rubeus_Hagrid, Remus
      Lupin, Severus_Snape
  Additional Tags:
      Violence, Sharing_a_Bed, Rape/Non-con_Elements, Ocean_Sex, Sibling
      Bonding, Pack_Bonding, Underage_Sex, Non-Consensual_Drug_Use, Drug-
      Induced_Sex, Threesome_-_F/F/M, Forced_Bonding, Animagus, Anal_Sex,
      Animalistic, Biting, Watersports, Action/Adventure, Semi-Public_Sex,
      Rites_of_Passage, Ritual_Sex, Torture, Mind_Rape, Brother/Sister_Incest,
      Implied/Referenced_Incest, Magic_Made_Them_Do_It, Magical_Accidents,
      Deepthroating, Rough_Kissing, Awkward_Sexual_Situations, Bed-Wetting,
      Alternate_Universe_-_Medieval, Hair-pulling, Forced_Pregnancy, Breeding,
      Alternate_Universe_-_Siblings, Mating_Cycles/In_Heat, Roughhousing,
      Mating_Rituals
  Series:
      Part 1 of Harry_Potter:_Reality_Ensues
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-07-31 Updated: 2018-01-28 Chapters: 12/? Words: 143199
****** Harry Potter and the Energumen of the Elchee ******
by The_Oddest_Exclamation
Summary
     I got sick of seeing the same old shit, done the same old way, in
     Harry Potter Fan-fiction.
     So I decided to take as many new ideas as i could think of, while
     mixing in things that I have seen before in ways I haven't seen
     before.
     That means that while there will be graphic sex, among other things
     in this story, it won't be for a few chapters. Also there is an
     excessive number of content tags, but I want to be through, and rest
     assured anything tagged will be in the story at some point.
***** Hermione's Worst Birthday Ever *****
 
Edit: 7/9/16. I am aware that the story is marked as completed and I cannot
figure out how to turn that off, But I assure you that it is not and that I am
still writing chapters.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Well ladies and gentlemen I would like to start this fic with what will likely
be a rather long preface. This is mostly because I feel that I have come to a
rather depressing realization regarding the state of canonical Harry Potter
universe, and I want to at least try to explain it.
 

The realization I have made is that the “Wizarding World” is dying.

I know that there are plenty of other authors out there, who seem to have
realized this as well. But I don’t think many of them have realized the true
extent of the problem.

I suppose I should give a few examples and attempt to analyze my new insight,
I’ll try to keep it as brief as I can, while still including relevant
information.

To start with the size of Hogwarts is disproportional to the number of students
and staff in its hallowed halls. Harry’s entire year, seems to have less than
fifty students. Keep in mind that there are maybe a dozen students in his year
that are named, and there are about a dozen staff members in the entire school.

So for a rough estimate we’ll go fifty times seven, plus twelve which gives the
tentative total population of Hogwarts somewhere around three hundred and sixty
two.

For reference, my grade school had more students than that, and I live in a
pretty small town. And my grade school was physically about a hundred times
smaller and had way more teachers per student.

That, admittedly rather roughly, estimated number includes the very rich, the
very poor and the students a sizable portion of the magical society would love
nothing more than to torture to death. “Aka: the muggleborns”

And it is that previous estimate, which I would use against those who would say
that there are more schools in wizarding Britain than just Hogwarts. I mean, if
there were schools that were cheaper or more exclusive, you wouldn’t think that
everyone would go to the same place would you?

The only reason I can think of for them to use a massively oversized castle for
such a tiny student population would be there not being enough students to
justify smaller schools being maintained or having new ones built. Not to
mention that such actions would further splinter wizarding culture.

In fact, as far as I can tell, there are only three schools in all of Europe.
Hogwarts is in the UK and gets all the UK’s students. Durmstrang gets the
eastern European students, as despite being described as being located in the
north has students from Bulgaria, a nation far south of England. And the third
is the school in France, Beauxbatons. I think there might be an all-girls
school in Salem but don’t quote me on that. (Also, why would wizards build a
school there? That would be like building a school for Jewish kids in
Auschwitz. Seriously guys, what the Hell?)

The existence of other schools in the orient is implied but never outright
stated. Unless Hogwarts gets the students from England’s former colonies, in
which case India and Asia’s magical cultures are likely completely extinct
considering there are less than a dozen “Foreign” students named. (Actually,
there’s less than five named, but who’s counting.)

Then there is the wizarding worlds odd trend towards one to two child families.
For a the English wizarding world, whose population seems to be hanging around
the low thousand to high hundreds, you would think that families with dozens of
kids would be the norm. (And by extension that Muggleborns and Half-bloods
would be less common instead of half of the class.)

And Jesus Christ their population is low! It’s low enough that Voldemort had to
travel abroad to gather an army in the hundreds to assault Hogwarts, whose
defenders numbered in the double digits, despite total support from everyone
who wasn’t in Hogwarts including the ruling government.

Speaking of Tom’s little civil war; these constant conflicts can’t be good for
their already extremely low population. Once every fifteen years or so might
not be constant for muggles whose population numbers in the billions, but for
the hundred thousand or so magical people in the world, and that is an
extremely generous estimate in my opinion; it must seem constant and
debilitating.

And we must remember that civil wars over mostly pointless things are a great
indicator that a civilization is beginning to die. Rome had dozens before
finally splintering in two and many Chinese dynasties usually had one or two
before they collapsed.

The main difference however, is that the wizarding world and its culture takes
such care to hide itself, that when they disintegrate there will likely be
nothing left but empty ruins.

Rome fell but her culture lives on. When the hidden Wizarding World dies, it
will be as though it had never been.

These things being said, there are many people who seem aware of this problem.
Most see it as a minor thing like a cold or the flu. My belief however, is that
the wizarding world is not merely sick, it is terminally ill.

Which would be my biggest complaints in the way the series is usually
portrayed, but it isn’t my biggest problem overall.

Oddly enough my biggest issue with the series isn’t really a pothole exactly,
and it is by no means unique to Harry Potter, but it is an ever-present
nuisance of the so called Urban Fantasy Genre. (And to be honest, the Harry
Potter universe is among the best of the genre that I’ve read.)

What I’m talking about is historical context. Anyone who has ever played one of
Paradox’s games like Crusader Kings or Victoria: An Empire Under the Sun will
tell you that history will never happen the same way twice.

This is because history is a huge mesh of interconnected events, all of which
are governed by those preceding them. Seemingly inconsequential things can have
massive impacts, that ripple down the chain to those events that follow them.
Which is what the butterfly effect is.

If you don’t understand what I’m talking about, I would advise you to look for
an after action report of someone who played a linked game through all four of
Paradox’s titles. The end results are usually almost completely inconceivable
and irreconcilable with the modern view of the word, and of the normal
historical events that we look back on.

What I am getting at, is that any even extremely slight change to the timeline,
even something as seemingly minor as some random eleventh century peasant
getting water from the well a day later than he would have otherwise could
easily spiral outward and have an impact that echoes through time.

That means that adding something to the world, in JK’s case it’s having magic
and a bunch of fictional animals, people and events being real. This should
have almost completely changed the entire course of, at the very least more
modern history.

And I mean that. It would alter the entirety of at least the last few thousand
years of history and have significant impacts in religion, culture, science,
technological development, and a thousand other factors for everyone,
everywhere!

There should still be some similarities, cultures might still be similar
because they are largely developed early and shaped by the environment. But
other subjects like technological development would likely be stunted heavily
in areas where magic is very common. Many of the modern religions of today
would also likely have much smaller influences, and they would certainly be
more zealous and xenophobic where they did exist.

Many religions like Christianity and Islam might still exist, but they
certainly wouldn’t have spread as far with their abhorrence of magic. Why would
the pagans have given up their religions and murder the people who can make it
rain on command for the empty promises that religions bring. (Unless those
religions have substance too, something which would probably cause a whole host
of other issues.) The major religions of today not spreading as far as they did
could have far reaching consequences, like the magical peoples not having to
hide to begin with. (Also, why does Hogwarts celebrate Christmas? I could
understand celebrating the midwinter solstice but did they forget that they
went into hiding because the Christians had been attempting to exterminate
them?)

Do you see what I mean yet? It’s not really a plot hole, more like a damaged
foundation.

That isn’t to say Harry Potter is bad. Like I said earlier it’s still the best
example of Urban Fantasy that I can think of. It certainly does a better job at
explanations than most stories in this genre, most of them go something like
“There are elves stolen straight from Tolkien in the woods, or Native American
spirit animals are real! Why? Because fuck you! the author said so!” And all
without any attempt to explain how any of those things could even exist in the
modern world without anyone knowing or having them make a major impact on
history and all the other stuff I mentioned earlier.

Ok so what have I decided to do about it?

Well, the conclusion I came to was to write an Alternate Universe story wherein
the consequences of the impact things like magic, mythological creatures and
mythical civilizations being real are somewhat explored.

In addition I wanted explore some of the more common themes I see in fanfiction
that are usually done awfully, and to make a wizarding world with more than two
brain cells to rub together between the lot of them, a civilization with a
primary focus on expansion in all manners, instead of the stagnation leading to
a slow agonizing death that we see in canon.

That’s where things started to get really weird.

So hold on to your bootstraps gentlemen! Believe me this is about to get pretty
surreal.
I would put content warnings here but it’s just easier for you to assume that
pretty much every such warning you can think of will apply for this story,
running the gamut from the tame stuff like incest and underage drinking to the
more intense things like mass genocide, mind-rape and apocalyptic destruction.
More importantly, they will be treated differently than they would be in our
modern world due to differences in culture and history. Though I assure you we
will start out mostly tame for the first few chapters.

But enough of my overly long rambling, let’s start the first chapter!
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
--------------------------------------

Hermione would have given anything in the world to wake up. To wake up, and for
the last eight hours to have been nothing more than a terrible dream.

Unfortunately, all manner of pitching had convinced her that it was indeed
real. That this had to be the single worst birthday she had ever had, which she
realized wasn’t exactly saying much, considering she had only had ten of them
before this one. But for her to be arrested for witchcraft on her birthday, it
had to be the worst luck she had ever heard of.

And what person in there right mind, who had known her even briefly would have
come to such a ludicrous conclusion?

Not that the Varangian Guard cared. They served only the emperor after all, and
the affairs of the merchants and their children only really mattered to them if
they broke laws too blatantly.

“Hermione Jean Granger, by the authority vested in me by Almighty God, you are
under arrest for witchcraft, heresy and violation of curfew.” The leader of the
squad of armored knights, which had kicked in the door to their house, had
growled at her.

Those words still echoed in her head, freezing her blood in her veins. The
terrifying stories she had heard in the church, and whispered by cities various
busybodies echoed in her mind.

“Suffer not the witch to live.” It was one of the more popular topics for
sermons in Constantinople’s cathedrals, and it was one of the few things that
the constantly warring Abrahamic faiths could agree on.

It was also pretty ludicrous thought. ‘Hermione Granger, A witch? Ridiculous!”
She could hear the voice of the kindly old librarian, Madam Levis echoing the
absurdity in her head.

She had at the time, tried to tell them that their accusations were
nonsensical, wanted to declare her innocence. She was Hermione Granger; her
parents were only merchants for God’s sake! She was the girl that spent nearly
all her free time in Constantinople’s great libraries, reading books and
scrolls on every subject she could get her hands on, she couldn’t be a witch!

Of course it was hard to protest her innocence through a gag, but she figured
that it was the principle of the thing.

And after she had been tied up, the leader of the Guards, a rather stern
looking woman with greying hair pulled into a severe bun, had pulled her
parents from the room. When they returned, less than a minute later, her father
wouldn’t even look in her direction. Her mother on the other hand threw her a
disapproving glance, and walked the knight upstairs.

Hermione had figured out what was happening before ten seconds had passed; the
guard had decided to arrest her eight-year old little sister for good measure.

And while she knew it was insensitive, she wished they had not been placed in
the same cell, or that they had at least gagged Melody when they had bound her.
Her sister had started sobbing from the second they passed their housed front
gates, and continued the entire ride to their holding cell, and hadn’t seen fit
to stop until she had finally passed out.

It wasn’t that Hermione didn’t like her little sister, Melody was as adorable
as Hermione herself was precocious Or so all the adults she knew had always
told her, but the younger girls constant wailing while she had been trying to
think, wasn’t really appreciated.

Of course that had only been the start of the oddest and least pleasant day of
her life so far.

Sitting tied up on cold stone floors in a darkened little cell, with her sister
sprawled across her lap for several hours had been boring, but it wasn’t really
unexpected. She had figured the clergy would now be arguing about how best to
dispose of them, and Hermione had hoped that they would take there time.

Melody had fallen asleep soon after they had been thrown in their cell, but
Hermione found she was unable to even relax, she knew well of the many fates
that might await them.

Never before had she regretted her desire to learn everything beneath the sun,
but in that moment the knowledge had seemed to taunt her in her darkened cell.

The tension just dragged on, and it had been killing her, would they be
sentenced to be hanged, thrown down an oubliette, or burned at the stake? Or
maybe if the ecclesiastical who sentenced them was feeling particularly
merciless, they could be dragged down into the labyrinthine series of tunnels
and dungeons beneath the massive city, to be chained, or worse walled, up and
promptly forgotten about.

Not exactly the most pleasant subject for her to dwell on, while awaiting what
would likely be a rather short trial, if precedence had taught Hermione
anything. But the knowledge of her immediate future made calming down
impossible.

Then her day went from terrifying to exceedingly odd.

The door had opened, and the stern old guard woman from earlier entered the
cell, then closed and locked the door behind her.

She flashed Hermione a small smile and knelt down and undid her gag.

Hermione immediately had jumped back into to pleading her naiveté. “I’m
innocent, you have to believe me, I’m not a witch.” Hermione had whispered
after the lady had motioned for her to be quiet.

That had brought an amused smile to the woman’s lips. “Well, you’re right on
the first account but wrong on the last.” She had replied, and this time her
voice held an unfamiliar accent.

Then she had drawn a small but ornately decorated stick from inside her vest,
and flicked it in a confusing pattern over a small rock.

“Don’t worry dear everything will be explained soon” She gave the stone a look,
then a sharp nod before flicking it straight into Hermione’s forehead.

The next few moments had been a world of their own, dragged by her navel
through a realm of blurring amused colors and howling wind instruments, before
she had been slammed face first into a pile of straw. Not three seconds later
Melody was unceremoniously dropped, still sleeping soundly, on top of her.

That was the sequence of events that had brought her to her current situation.

Nude on her stomach, and half buried in a pile of straw, with her sister who
was also apparently naked, as she could feel her younger sister’s bare skin on
her back, still sleeping on top of her shoulders.

Trapped inside what appeared to be the darkened hold of some massive wooden
ship, surrounded by hundreds of other boys and girls, seemingly in a similar
situation to Melody and her own, quietly whispering amongst each other.

And good God, did she hate where this day was going.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
--------------------------------------
I apologies ahead of time for the shortness of the chapter (Christ, I think the
bloody introduction is longer than the actual chapter.) it’s not the longest
but I see it as more of an introduction, testing the waters so to speak.

That being said I am eager to hear what people think, both about my ideas and
the chapter itself. I assure you that the next chapter will be no less than
twenty pages long and will have a far shorter intro, but I wanted to get this
out and see what people think, before diving head first into the wellspring of
madness that I have as an idea for this story.

If you want to leave comments or PM my account that’s cool, I assure you that I
will read all of them and reply to any that I can. Constructive criticism is
appreciated but hell, even flames show me that someone read the story, and
that’s more than enough to inspire more chapters in my book.
***** Harry's Best Birthday Ever: Part-1 *****
 
Before anyone asks, both of those words in the story’s title are real, there
just not used very much.

Just so people are warned ahead of time, this story will be quite divergent
from canon. (As if it wasn’t obvious enough from the previous chapter.) There
will be points where I use several familiar situations, but for the most part
it’s going to be a pretty extreme Alternate Universe.

I will say that I am going to try to keep canon characters at least similar to
their normal behavior, but their backgrounds, motivations and situations are
likely to be quite different. Which is keeping in line with the alternate world
I’ve taken so the time to create.

What that means that for people looking for the average canon rehash that makes
up ninety-nine percent of the fanfiction I’ve ever read, you should prepare to
be extremely disappointed.

That said, this is going to be all the introductions for now, seeing as I
promised to keep this one shorter than the first.

Now more plot and a smidgen of fanservice.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
--------------------------------------

Peals of thunder echoed across the faraway seas.

Vernon sighed up at the grey vaulted sky, as he stroked his bushy mustache. It
wasn’t raining yet but the smell of lightning hung thick in the air, and he was
sure it wouldn’t be long now.

As that thought crossed his mind, his thoughts swirled in directions he wasn’t
entirely comfortable with, directions unassociated with the coming rain. But of
a storm of a different type entirely.

His order had finally arrived; Themis had actually pulled though this time,
which just left him with the presentation. It left a strange feeling in his
gut.

He was feeling… well he wouldn’t have said he was in anticipation, because that
would imply that he was excited about it. Which he would never admit to anyone,
but expectation would be an acceptable term.

The time was nearly passed, it wouldn’t be long now.

Nearly ten years had gone by since the day his father had died. Val Dursley had
died like he had lived, at the gates of Oslo, with an axe in one hand and a
pint of mead in the other, surrounded by corpses of his enemies.

When the letter had arrived, the messenger still panting from running up the
long road to his old house, and gasped out the message Vernon had never been
prouder to be a Dursley. Less than a week to that day, he had watched his
father’s ship pyre cast off Oslo’s shore, to sail away and carry his spirit to
the distant shores. Val had been a true Norsemen to his last, and Vernon had
seen to it that his father had been sent off in a befitting manner.

It had been less than an hour after that moment, when a great grey owl had
glided over those attending the funeral in broad daylight. It had touched down
in front of Petunia in complete silence; it had seemed to shiver for a second
before it spoke in the raspy voice of an old man.

“Petunia Dursley, the High Council of Britannia’s Magistrates requests that you
and your family return to your homeland, there is a most urgent matter that you
and your husband must attend to.” The bird twitched before continuing. “You
will meet the Headmaster at the Hog’s Head Inn, at the village of Hogsmead in
Scotland.”

The bird had jerked again, harder than before, and a glowing rune flashed for a
moment before its face, before vanishing. The bird seemed to find itself for a
moment, then it gave him a cockeyed look and launched back into the woods
without even a hoot.

Suffice to say, the funeral’s tone had been quite awkward after that.

Vernon had been severally unsettled by the message, and had been very tempted
to call the whole thing a bunch of hogwash, but Petunia had been hysterical.
Completely sure that she would have never been contacted unless something
terrible had transpired in England.

And there really wasn’t any arguing with her when she was like that; she had
that kind of effect on him.

It had been a quick and frantic journey to Britannia, and then to Petunia’s old
hometown to look for her semi-estranged sister Lily. They had spent two weeks
looking everywhere they both could think, asked everyone they thought might
know, without success.

Truth be told, they had been ready to give up, when they had finally wandered
to the place they both had wanted to avoid the most. To Hogsmead and to the
Hog’s Head Inn, the owl’s instructions still clear in his mind.

The inn, as it had turned out was more of a bar, and a rather rough one at
that. Vernon had remembered being slightly saddened by that, thinking to
himself how his father would certainly have enjoyed it.

Then, late on that cloudy night, they had been visited by one of the oldest men
Vernon had ever seen. Dressed in robes bluer than the sky, under a cloak filled
with twinkling stars, he had burst from the fireplace with a look that was a
peculiar mixture of frustration and amusement. “It certainly look you long
enough to get here, though I suppose I should have added a time in addition to
the place, hmm?” His blue eyes twinkled merrily as he spoke this, as though his
self-proclaimed mistake was more a joke than any actual fault.

The startling nature of the man’s arrival had nearly gave him a heart attack,
but oddly enough neither his method of travel nor his wild choice of clothes
had garnered more than a cursorily glance from the other patrons, as rough as
they were.

He had introduced himself, in a rather tired voice, as Albus Dumbledore, the
Headmaster of Hogwarts. Petunia of course had recognized the name immediately,
as one her sister had mentioned many times in letters home when she had been a
child.

He had then taken several minutes to explain the events that connected the two
of them to him.

The explanation had nearly given him another heart attack. Dumbledore was a
wizard, something Vernon had obviously already suspected, but he was also a
powerful and influential one. While he was never a stranger to the mystical,
having been born in a Norse village where strange things were an almost
everyday occurrence certainly helped. His interactions however, had been
regulated mostly to the going on of the village druids and the occasional
wyvern attack.

Suffice to say that being confronted by a man who was not just a mage, but if
his wife was to be believed, was some kind of wizard monarch who held literal
kings under his sway, had left Vernon with a situation he had absolutely no
experience handling.

As he attempted to recover from what he believed to have been a great deal of
social blundering, another gentleman burst from the fireplace.

And he was the spawn of a giant’s blood if Vernon had ever seen one! At least
nine feet tall, with a braided beard full of beads, even was fuller than
Dumbledore’s, and it was coupled by a mustache that was enough to make even
Vernon jealous. He had been holding a great bundle of papers in the crook of
one arm and had dropped them upon leaving the fireplace, and the sight of the
man scrambling to pick them back up had brought a bemused smile to Albus’s
wrinkled face.

When he had finished organizing his papers the Headmaster motioned for the
giant to come over, and he promptly introduced himself as Hagrid, the
Groundskeeper and Gatekeeper of Hogwarts. Vernon felt some of the tension ease
in the man’s presence, whether from the man’s familiar drawl or the glimpse of
an axe in the Nordic style in the man’s belt, he could not have said.

But just as he started to relax, the Headmaster’s eyes gained a distant and
tired look and he motioned for them to lean close.

“I know why you have returned here Petunia.” He had spoken softly. “And as you
have likely guessed, I was the one who sent you the message.” He paused and
gave Hagrid a motion to sit down. “I come bearing news, both good and bad.
There has been an…” he paused, clearly thinking carefully then he seemed to
reach a decision, and he quickly waved over the barmaid, a delightfully curvy
maiden with caramel skin, who immediately sat four tankard of foamy beer down
at their table. “There has been an accident Petunia, one that has left Lily’s
husband dead.”

His wife had looked ready to burst into tears at that, but Dumbledore motioned
to calm her. “Rest easily Petunia, Lily herself is not dead, and you may be
able to see her soon enough depending on how things go in the coming months,
but I am afraid there is other business we must attend to first.”

Vernon had wanted to say something about the man’s statement but thought better
of interrupting the elderly monarch, though something in the twinkling of the
old man’s eyes had told him that he knew anyway. “However, Lily was badly
injured in the accident, and though she is expected to recover fully in time.
At the moment she will be unable to care for her two children.” Albus told
them, his voice making clear that he expected that they would be the ones to
care for the children.

Vernon sipped the beer slowly in thought at the implication, while Hagrid
emptied his pint in one humongous gulp, looking ready to burst into tears
himself at the mere mention of the mysterious accident.

The old wizard leaned in closer, and when he spoke he did so in a hoarse
whisper. “I will not go into the details of the accident here, as it would be
both dangerous and inappropriate. But it does involve the twins, and if the
details were to become common knowledge, I would fear for their safety even if
they were under my gaze every moment for the next decade.” He finished his
whispering in time for the caramel skinned barmaid to bring Hagrid another
drink. This time, the girl brought him an entire pitcher, which certainly
seemed to better fit the giant’s hands and thirst better.

He motioned to the bundle of papers Hagrid had set on the table. “But I think I
have a solution, one which goes in hand with an extremely generous proposal for
the two of you.”

He slid a piece of parchment from the stack. “Those I represent will not only
pay off whatever current debts you have managed to accumulate, we are ready to
do you one better.” Then he had shot them a wink, and Vernon realized that the
man’s voice was the same as the one the owl had spoken in. “If you agree to my
conditions, I will make you, Vernon Durley the Duke of Shetland. It is a
modestly sized island just north of Britannia. The previous Duke died not a
month ago from Glow Pox, and as he was the last of his line I have currently
found myself in need of an immediate replacement.”

Albus gave them a knowing smile and shrugged casually. “I personally never
liked Palaver very much, and with everyone breathing down my back to get a
replacement for him, I figured that I could kill two birds with one stone.”

Petunia had gasped at the news, and Vernon had nearly fallen from his chair at
the revelation, but the old man had motioned for them to let him finish. “All I
ask from the two of you is that you raise Lily’s children there with you until
ten years has passed, at which point they will be ready to return to Hogwarts.”

He had accepted the offer of course, while both he and Petunia had been shocked
and almost dumbstruck, but it would have been madness to refuse an offer like
that. Even if the circumstances had seemed less dire.

“Very good,” Dumbledore had smiled at him after he finished signing his name.
“You two have done this country a service today, and I will long remember it.”
He tapped his temple with a bony finger. “Tomorrow morning you will meet Hagrid
here, and then he will take you to your homeland to retrieve your son. It is my
understanding that he is currently staying with your sister Vernon?” He asked,
and then continued without waiting for a reply. “Then the three of you will be
taken to the island by means of a special type of magical transportation.”

Then, the old wizard rose from his seat, and after wishing them both a good
evening, he beckoned for Hagrid to follow him back into the inn’s fireplace.

Ten years had passed since that dim evening in the inn, ten years since Hagrid
had arrived in the crisp of the morning and taken them to Oslo to retrieve
Dudley, and then to Shetland with nothing more than a short song and a
disorienting blur of color.

The first sight that had greeted them in Shetland was a modest stone keep atop
a low hill. Surrounded on one side by crisp, green forests and hemmed in on the
other by a sleepy little port village. Then Hagrid had beckoned them straight
down the cobblestone path to the keep, rattled the entire building with his
knocks, and then turned to them with a look of mirth. “Just you wait Dursley,
I’ll have you know that Trude here makes the best darn Ale in all of
Britannia.” He gave a chuckle. “Used to work at the Cock & Bull she did!”

Nearly a full minute later the door had opened to a rather frazzled woman in
her early forties. “Oh, Hagrid it’s you!” Annoyance then darkened her features.
“And are you mad man! I just put those two to sleep and there you come,
pounding on the door like a bloody battering ram, nearly brought the whole
place down you did!” She growled out in a thick accent, poking him in the chest
repeatedly.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Ow, Trude spare me beard!” He
pleaded with the incensed woman.

Petunia adjusted her hold on Dudley and chose that moment to cough,
interrupting the woman reaching for her broom, presumably to bludgeon Hadrid
with.

“Oh, that’s right.” The cowering giant rose back to full height with a bright
smile. “These are the Dursley’s. That’s Petunia, she’s Lily’s sister.” He
fiddled with the beads in his facial hair. “And yesterday Dumbledore named her
husband Vernon the new Duke of Shetland!” He finished, now in an excited
manner.

“Oh for the love of Circe, I can never believe the nerve of that man.” Trude
ran a hand through her slightly greying hair. “Well come on in, I suppose I
should introduce you to Yorik. He’ll get you familiarized with the estate.” She
paused and glared at Hagrid who was almost literally bouncing in excitement.
“And for goodness sake man, try to be quiet!”

He gave her a good-natured smile. “Oh come on love, I said I was sorry.”

What followed had been the single best cup of ale Vernon had ever had, which
was certainly saying something, considering that he was a mead drinker through
and through.

After Trude had set them by the fireplace with their drinks, while she shot a
still apologetic Hagrid a bemused glance, before walking over to a corner of
the large room and jabbing the ceiling lightly with her broom. “Yorik, you
sleepy layabout! Get up, get up!” she hissed, jabbing the ceiling again. “The
new Duke just arrived.”

What followed was a crash from the upper room and the sound of rustling papers.
“And Zeus’s beard man how much did you drink last night?” She hissed up into
the ceiling.

This was followed by another crash. “And be quiet!” She shouted up in
annoyance.

The thin, greybeard that tumbled down the stairs seemed to be even more excited
than Hagrid had been. “How are you sir I am Yorik the head bookkeeper of the
Saltstone Keep which is the only keep in Shetland. The Duchy will be lucky to
have you sir I can already tell; the quality of your mustache betrays your
competence.”

Vernon had said the only thing that made sense in that moment. “For goodness
sake man, take a breath before you pass out.” Then he had blinked and gave it a
stroke. “You really think so?”

The second meeting was much longer and more in depth than the first had been
that night in the pub. Hours of discussion about taxes and the mood of the
peasantry, the next crusade, which was likely to be in only a few short years
if the Holy Romans kept to their usual cycle. Dumbledore, he had been told,
usually kept a good grip on those sorts of things, but Vernon figured the
future could change easily enough.

That had been the first night of the strangest ten years he could have ever
dreamed possible. Shetland was a fairly genial land, which was to say that it
was extremely easy to rule. Vernon often thought that the offer had less to do
with him making a good duke, although everyone did seem to think he managed the
Duchy fine enough, and more to do with the old man’s influencing events to keep
a closer eye on the Potter twins.

Not that the old man had ever visited them himself, though Hagrid came by often
enough, both helping him to train Dudley and partially to keep an eye on the
twins, which seemed to amuse them both greatly.

And by Odin’s beard, the children were strange. Not his Dudders of course, he
was already set to become a fine lad, built like an ox and progressing well
with his weapon and craftsmanship training. But by the gods, Lily’s spawn were
a pair of changelings or his name wasn’t Dursley.

Though the two had certainly made the last decade interesting, he was sure of
that much.

That wasn’t to say that he wasn’t proud of the pair, he could never bring
himself to not be been proud of anything he raised. But they were such an odd
couple, so different from the children he had interacted with before, that he
had often felt that it was hard for him to interact with them in any meaningful
way.

They both shared oddly thin figures for how much they ate, which was sometime
more than Dudley. They shared being small, thin and wiry with huge staring
eyes, that Vernon was convinced were an unnatural shade of green, but that was
where the physical similarities between the two ended.

The oldest, by a few minutes, was Harry. He was calm, and relaxed, though hard
working, and was most easily identified by his messy black hair that had always
been in chaotic disarray. At seven he had finally broken down and bought the
boy a comb, encouraging him to grow it long and comb it out so he could braid
it like a proper Norsemen, and the boy had taken his advice gladly.

It was an event that Vernon felt marked the closest he had ever come to
connecting with him, outside of the weapons training he had put all three of
them through.

And the younger of the twins Violet, was well on her way to being an absolute
hedonist; with only her frizzy red hair warning whoever she was bearing down on
next to brace themselves. Her appearance almost always seemed to precede some
new outbreak of chaos, and the girl seemed to live for pleasures, and the
bedlam she sowed drove hard on Petunia and Trude’s tattered nerves.

And the two were about as Fey as he had ever heard of! Up all night, and often
out all day, they would return home many evenings with grass stained feet and
hands. The pair didn’t even eat normally, often refusing meals at random and
instead digging up the nearby village’s gardens, and apparently eating
vegetables raw, if Yorik was to be believed.

While Vernon felt he certainly could get behind the pillaging, he sincerely
wished that the pair would steal something other than vegetables.

Harry didn’t even seem to want to get into fights! “What right minded boy don’t
want to fight?” He had often wondered to himself after finishing the training
sessions he had had been taught were so necessary to a proper upbringing, or on
long nights waiting for Yorik to return with stacks of various papers and
documents that he would have to read through and sign.

Trying to figure them out was a wellspring of madness, something he had
absolutely no experience in. The only one who seemed to keep them entertained
was Hagrid, on his occasional visits, and even he was at a loss at entertaining
the pair beyond storytelling, singing tuneless songs or bringing them magical
trinkets that would hold their attention.

All combined, had been nearly enough to drive him mad, but he had persevered.
He had pulled through, and delivered on his promise to the old mage.

And now those ten years were almost up.

§

Harry had been having a great dream. He had dreamt that he had been floating in
a pinkish void, surrounded by the congeries of iridescent ovals that were the
spirits of the woods, and that those same trees were singing all around him.
Calling out to him to hear the tales they could tell, of all that they had been
witness to in their lengthy lives.

It had been one of his strangest yet, and it had been ended as many of his
dreams did, with an incessant pressure on his mind from far away. His twin
probing him awake wasn’t exactly a new experience for him though, it happened
almost every day actually.

He felt his Dreamlands fleeing him with a feeling not unlike falling, as the
colors of the waking world rushed up to meet him.

As his senses came back to him he opened his eyes to find his entire view was
brilliant green eyes. Violet was literally nose to nose with him.

Being this close to her let him easily feel the echoes of her amusement pinging
through his head. Her face shifted and she rubbed her nose against his, her
freckles danced under her eyes and he felt her tongue slid across his lips as
she licked hers, so close was her face to his own.

Bare flesh shifted against bare flesh, and Harry sat up on the fleece they had
been sleeping on, carefully sliding her from his stomach and into his lap.
Violet shot him a shit-eating grin, and he could feel her triumph through their
bond, she thought that he was going to give her exactly what she wanted.

But he wasn’t the responsible one for nothing. “We’ll have to go back soon Vi.”

His sister shook her head, brushing her nose against his, still eye to eye with
him. “I don’t wanna, I’m not finished.” She punctuated her rebuff by planting
her knees firmly on either side of his thighs, and making her little hopping
motions, huffing to herself as she went trying to create more of the friction
she so desired.

Harry ignored the sparks of pleasure echoing through his body and focused on
his soreness. It made denying her easier. “Violet, we have a birthday to get
to,” he slipped his arms under her shoulders sliding her up and off him, while
ignoring their combined stickiness that coated his groin, and now his stomach,
with a practiced ease, “our birthday, in case you’ve forgotten already.”

He gave her a sly look as she slid a finger though that wetness, ever eager for
another taste. “And you already finished… repeatedly. Or did you forget that
too?”

Violet sighed theatrically and flopped back down on the fleece. “I seem to have
such a short memory lately Harry, maybe you could help me jog it?” Her eyebrows
wiggled like a pair of orange caterpillars dancing, as she arched her back and
tried to tempt him for the second time in as many minutes.

Harry smiled back. “Then maybe you should wash those cobwebs out of your head,
you dirty little minion.” He replied underhandedly and proceeded to shove her
off the fleece, giggling as she rolled with a squawk over the edge of the
riverbank and splashed into the creek. Then he rolled up the fleece, and
crawled at a sedate pace to the water’s edge.

He watched as his sister surfaced with a great deal of sloshing, frizzy hair
soaked like a sponge, and shooting him an irate glare. “You do realize, that
when you least expect it, I will have my revenge.” She growled at him, trying
to be intimidating.

“Sure you will Violet.” He continued grinning, staying just beyond her arms
reach to avoid making it too easy.

After they finished washing off and dressing, he stashing their fleece at the
roots of a great pine tree, and the pair made their way back through the woods
to the keep they called home.

Harry smirked as they walked back; he could see Violet making a pointed effort
not to look at him. But he could feel the echoes of her mind in his; she was
trying to stay mad.

She would fail in time of course, she always did, but that didn’t make it any
less fun to tease her. Nor was it any less adorable, when she squeaked at the
hand he laid on her shoulder.

He pulled her close to him and he closed his eyes, concentrating on the feeling
of his sister’s core, using tendrils of his own core to caress hers.

Violet gasped cutely, and trembled at the sensation. Harry smiled and pulled
her closer as she shivered harder. “Harry, I’m going to kill you.” She hissed
back, as he pressed his strands against her core more adamantly. “And I thought
that we were in such a big hurry.”

He smirked into her neck. “Come in sis, you know that I’ll always have time for
you.” She moaned at his declaration, and slumped back against him.

“Harry if you keep saying things like that, we’re really going to be late.” He
felt her core open up to his caresses as her hand slid beneath her legs, but he
carefully backed his tendrils away, smirking as she moaned in frustration,
while he helped straighten her up.

After her tabard was back in order, he defended his actions while she shot him
another pout. “Somehow, I don’t think Trude would take us being late today very
well.”
§

When they finally returned, Harry was very glad they hadn’t allowed themselves
to fall for distractions on the path back. Trude was standing vigil at the door
to the keep; the old woman had bundled herself up with all the ferocity of a
knight expecting to fight to the death. And she was glaring at them again,
which in itself wasn’t unusual, but she wasn’t normally radiating quite this
much frustration.

She called out as soon as she saw them. “Hurry up you two, you still need to
get ready.” Then she actually gasped as they got closer and she saw the state
they were in, barefoot and covered in grass stains.

Trude glared at him and massaged her temples, then seemed to make an active
effort to calm down, Harry felt like she failed. “Where in Zeus name have you
two been?” She shouted, her voice cracking the air like a whip. “Any other day
and I wouldn’t have even cared, but you both need to be ready to go in less
than an hour! And you come back barefoot, and covered in grass stains with dirt
on your clothes!” She swooped out and them both by the hair, dragging them
inside.

“Ow, Trude be gentler. We didn’t mean to be out so late.” Violet pleaded with
their matron, more in exasperation than pain.

Trude stopped just short of the threshold and sniffed Harry’s hair. “And you
both smell like fish!” Their grumpy matron exclaimed.

It was Harry’s turn to attempt placation. “That’s probably from the stream.” He
said, while she hissed at his admission, and continued to drag them both by the
hair into the wash room, where the scent of pine coming from the hot water was
almost overpowering.

“Well strip and get in!” The matron said, with her hands on her hips.

The pair gave her a blank look, subconsciously pulling their cores even further
apart in caution.

Trude scowled at them. You each would have had time to have one for yourself,
but you both came back so late.” The ornery woman grumbled at them as they
mechanically stripped, and entered the wooden tub.

The washing off was a quick and mechanical affair, punctuated by Trude
attempting to snip Violet’s orange tangles into something resembling order
instead her usual mane of chaos, and shearing Harry’s long braid off at the
shoulder.

“Hey, what on earth are you doing woman!” He protested in shock, clutching his
remaining hair protectively while his sister snickered traitorously.

“You think you can go to school with your hair down to your waist boy?” The old
woman clicked her tongue at him disapprovingly, and poked his sternum. “They’d
mistake you for a lassie.”

Then she gave him a critical eye, and Harry flushed. “By the gods, you two eat
as much as Dudley and you’re both still so thin.”

“Can we finish this up please? I’m starting to prune.” Violet interrupted,
attempting to reduce their embarrassment.

The older woman snorted at them, as Harry went running his fingers through his
desecrated hair, and she pulled them from the tub. “Now dry off and be quick
about it, you both still need to pack. Hagrid will be here in less than thirty
minutes, and I want you both to be immaculate when he gets here.

She snapped her fingers at them as they finished toweling off, then drove them
up the stairs to their room to dress and pack.

“Remember, he’ll be here soon!” She reminded them, as they slipped on their
tunics, before leaving them to pack their things.

Violet let out an annoyed groan as soon as she left. “Sometimes, I think she
acts like we don’t know how to dress ourselves.” She grumbled to herself as she
started shoving some of their extra clothes into a sack that Trude, or maybe
Petunia, had left lying on her bed.

Harry rolled his eyes at her comment, and started rooting around the room for
some of the things he thought they might need at school. “So Vi, what kind of
place do you think this school will be?” He asked her.

His sister shrugged indifferently, holding an old tunic to the light. “Eh, who
knows…” She replied, tossing it into the sack. “I figure it should be more
interesting than being here at any rate,” she paused and frowned, “you think
they’ll have an actual bathhouse?”

Now it was Harry’s turn to shrug. “I should think so; Hagrid told me that the
school has lots of students so they would have to wash somewhere.” He fingered
a small scroll, debating if they would need a manual on forgery before reaching
beneath their little dresser to fish out a dagger. “And even if they don’t, we
can always just wash in the river, there’s worse things to smell like than
fish…”

“Do you think three extra tunics and tabards will be enough clothes?” Violet
interrupted his musings.

He fished a bronze dip pen atop his shelve and handed it to her. “Is that three
for each of us, or in total?” He asked her, vigilant against her tendency to
pack less than they usually needed whenever they were going anywhere.

She pouted back at him. “Six of each type, I’m not going to forget again.” She
lifted her mattress and pulled out a set of dice. “Did Hagrid tell you how long
it’s gonna take for us to get there? She asked him. “If it’ll take a long time
I think we should bring some entertainment.”

Harry snorted at that. “Vi, do you really think we would end up playing dice?”
He raised an eyebrow at her knowingly. “And besides, we’re going to Scotland
aren’t we?” He flipped a little knife into the bag. “I’ve seen the maps Yorik
keeps in his study; it’s not that far away.”

Violet gave him a dry look. “Ok, but what are the chances that nothing goes
wrong on the way there?” She asked him suspiciously.

“Our lives are not one endless series of disasters Violet.”

She gave him a dry look, and he could feel her amusement burning from her core.
“Aunt Petunia would disagree.”

“And I’m sure you have absolutely nothing to do with her opinion.” He shot
back.

She opened her mouth to snipe back, but Vernon’s voice thundered though the
tower, interrupting their banter. “Harry! Violet, come down here!” He shouted
from downstairs.

Harry gave her an inquisitive look, wondering if she had done anything, but his
sister only shrugged and made her way to the tower's stairwell. “We’re coming
uncle.” He called down.

They both raced down to the ground floor, to find Vernon and Yorik standing in
front of a large wooden crate, Vernon with a peculiar look in his mustached
face.

“Good pace,” he nodded approvingly at them as they stood as close to attention
as they ever got; “now I want you both to listen up!” His mustached face
scrunched up, as though deeply uncertain about whatever he had called them for.

Finally he seemed to find himself, shaking off the indecision and standing tall
before them. “It was ten years ago that you were placed under my care,” He
gestured sharply at them. “And I’ve done my best to give you the most normal
upbringing I could.”

He gave Violet a terse look. “And while you’ve both certainly made it difficult
at times, I feel like I succeeded at my undertaking.” He motioned to the box
beside Yorik. “Ten years have passed, and today you will return to the court of
your birth.” Yorik handed him the crate. “Now you two are Potters and not
Dursleys, but I met your father once, and he certainly didn’t seem like the
kind of man who would take shit from anyone.” He rumbled out. “Would he spread
it around? Absolutely, and it’s a trait that I can appreciate,” he fingered his
mustache as he opened the box, “and that’s a trait you both seem to have
inherited. But my point is that you are both going back to your court, and I
don’t want to hear about you taking it from anyone, I raised you both better
than that!” He shouted, more at the room than at them.

Then he gave them a satisfied look and pulled from the box, a pair of sheathed
swords. They curved forward at a thirty degree angle, and each as long as
Harry’s arm. “Dumbledore wanted you both prepared, and to me, this is the final
step.” He handed them both the weapons and Harry carefully unsheathed his while
Vernon reached back into the box. It was obviously a falcata, Harry had read
about them before, a design that had been filtered north by Greek and
Carthaginian immigrants, nothing like the broadswords and axes that his uncle
had tried to teaching them with most of the time.

Vernon seemed to notice his wonder. “You didn’t think I was paying attention
when you two were training boy?” He gave an amused snort. “And they came with
these.” Then he pulled a pair of round shields from the box, about three feet
across and in the convex Greek style, though each was decorated with elaborate
Norse symbols scrolled across their leather cases.

“They’re all a little big for you two right now, but you’ll grow into them in a
few years.” He said, while Violet squealed in joy, taking practice swings with
her falcata. “Now, are you both packed?” He asked them.

Harry nodded, sheathing his sword, and strapping to his back. “We’ve already
got everything ready Uncle.” Violet said, still grinning.

The burly man nodded, and a great crack sounded from outside the keep. Vernon
gestured to the stairs and Violet ran up to grab the sack, while Harry stood,
idly wondering how long it would be before they would return. “I’ll make sure
to write Uncle.” He said, as three booming knocks came from the wooden door.

Vernon nodded in acknowledgment. “Hargid, is that you?” He called to the door.

The great wooden door to the keep swung open and Hagrid ducked through the door
with a massive grin on his face. “Good to see you Vernon!” The giant boomed,
stroking his bristly beard as he strode into the room, and Harry had to duck
out of the way to avoid being bowled over.

Hagrid bent down at that, noticing Harry. “There you are lad, didn’t see you
there.” He smiled hugely. “You and Vi ready?” Then he saw the box and the
shields. “What you got there Yorik?”

The greybeaded beanpole grinned. “Vernon got the twins a parting gift.” He
tossed one of the shields at Hagrid, who caught it like a plate in his massive
hand.

“A fine shield,” he commented, tapping it with a finger as he inspected the
scrawling runes carved into the leather jacket.

Vernon seemed to expand with pride. “I got a Greek named Themis to make them
for me, he told me he was a smith and… well I figured they would need them at
Hogwarts.” He gestured to Harry, “Boy, show him your sword too.”

Harry cautiously drew the curved bronze blade from its sheath, and he handed it
to Hagrid in exchange for his new shield, which he slid over the sheath on his
back.

Hagrid examined the curving sword, giving it a few practice swings, before
nodding in approval. Handing the weapon back to Harry he gave Vernon a
secretive grin. “I’ll tell you what; it was a darn good idea to get them
these.” He gave Harry a gentle pat on the back, which nearly sent him
sprawling. “Most First Years I see come through don’t bother to bring anything
this useful. It’ll certainly give them a leg up for the first month or two.” He
opened his mouth so say more but a high pitched roar from the stairway cuts him
off.

Violet dove into the room, tossing their bag onto the floor as she slid to a
stop next to Hagrid. “You got it right?” She questioned him immediately, trying
to look behind him. “I’d better have not collected all of that junk for
nothing.” His sister pouted, as her expression rapidly turned from excited to
one of mild displeasure.

“Now hold on lassie.” he placated, gesturing for her to be quiet, while Harry
quietly wished the man luck. “I’m a man of my word, I tell you. But I didn’t
bring him inside cause I didn’t want your aunt to see em, or worse Trude.”

It was at that moment Harry realized exactly what Hagrid was talking about, and
if the amused and pitying look Vernon was shooting at him was an indication of
anything, it was that he realized it too.

Almost a year ago the half-giant had visited their keep, as he had done every
few months for as long as Harry could remember. It was something of a ritual in
his opinion, which both he and his sister always looked forward to with great
interest, as the half-giant had the habit of bringing them trinkets and of
recounting all sorts of interesting tales when drunk.

And during this particular visit, after he and Vernon had halfway finished
their usual keg of ale, Hagrid had brought up that he had managed to acquire a
female Speckled Drake, and that the scaly creature was due to lay her clutch
soon.

Violet had immediately taken to the idea of having a pet, especially after
Harry had done his best to try and convince her that an eight foot long, venom
spitting lizard wasn’t something they had a need for.

He had actually been irked when he had found out that she had ignored his
advice and sought out Hagrid, who had agreed to provide one of the hatchlings,
but only if, she could find him several seemingly random items.

And while Harry never did figure out where she acquired hair from a cave bear,
she had managed to collect everything, the day before Hagrid’s last visit.

The half-giant’s reaction to being presented with the items he had requested,
had left him wondering if Hagrid had actually thought that she would be able to
collect everything at all.

But that had been more than three weeks ago, and now Hagrid was standing in the
doorway trying to convince his sister to wait, as the rest of the household
came down the stairs at a more restrained pace.

Dudley came into the room grinning. “Hagrid, it’s good to see you again.” His
stocky cousin patted his impatient sister on the back; while Petunia and Trude
gave the man suspicious looks.

Hagrid seemed to give up hope of getting out of the situation gracefully when
they entered the room. The giant man deflated and he shot Violet a disapproving
glance. “You kids are gonna be the death of me I swear it.” He mouthed, and
then he turned around, opened the door and gave a loud whistle.

“Hagrid…” Trude asked in a warning tone. “Exactly what kind of pet did you get
the twins?” She nearly hissed at him.

He deflated further, while Vi hopped in place with excitement, and something
could be heard running outside.

“I was drunk Trude, I swear, and she made me promise!” Hagrid whined. Gesturing
at Violet, who wore a rather familiar shit-eating grin, as a tan and green
shape bolted into the room.

Petunia passed out immediately, falling into the arms of an irate Trude. “No
Violet, not his time,” the old woman said as she gingerly passed Dudley his
unconscious mother, “that creature is not staying in this house!”

Vernon cut in, attempting to be the voice of reason for once. “Of course it
isn’t. It’ll stay at school, right?” He gave Harry a look, inventing him to dig
everyone involved out of the hole Violet had thrown them into.

He nodded. “Of course it will Uncle.” He said, ignoring the traitorous looks
his sister shot him.

He could argue with her later, for now he just needed her to not butt in.

Fortunately for everyone, she seemed to be too preoccupied examining her newest
attempt at starting a menagerie to contradict him.

And actually… when he took a moment to examine it, it actually surprised him at
how close it looked to the illustrations that he had seen in the scroll in the
library. At five feet long, the drake was little more than a colorfully scaled
tube of flesh on four, almost canine legs.

In fact the more he looked at it, the more it seemed to resemble some kind of
reptilian dog.

It was a weird thought, and so he looked to Hagrid for direction, as the man
had proven himself to be an expert on all manner of animals over the years.
Unfortunately the giant in question was still cowering, while Trude fumed at
him silently.

Harry felt himself smile slightly at them. The poor man was certainly going to
hear about this after he delivered them to school. Of course it certainly
wouldn’t be the first time, and she had forgiven him for all the past
transgressions so he wasn’t too worried about Hagrid.

Then he nearly had his breath knocked from his lungs as Dudley tossed the sack
with their stuff into his unprepared chest. The slightly older boy smirked at
him, having passed off the now awake Petunia to his father. “Make sure to kick
some ass for me cousin.” He tapped the hilt of his own sword meaningfully. “Get
me one, I’ll pay you back.” He mouthed silently, gesturing subtly to the drake,
which made a horn-like honk as Violet scratched the single row of scutes that
trailed its spine down to the tip of its tail.

“Don’t worry, I’ll do my best.” He subtly answered both appeals, ignoring his
sister as she squealed again, and the drake honked in reply.

Vernon gave the pair a curious look. “Well, I dare say it likes you Violet.” He
chuckled, shooting Hagrid a glance. “What do you say Hagrid, should she give
him a name?”

The half-giant recovered from his cowering quickly at the question. Stroking
his beard and again grinning hugely. “Well I think I have to agree.” He waved
to the door. “But I do have a schedule to keep, and if I’m late again, Minerva
will kill me.” He scratched the back of his head. “So what say we name im and
get this show on the road?”

Violet shot him a look, and Harry could feel the tendrils of her magic
intertwine with his, he shot a though across the aether and the both grinned.

“George.” The both said in unison.

Hagrid and Petunia both snorted at that, while everyone else just looks
confused. “A better name than that, I never could have thought of” The half-
giant gave them both a bemused look, while ushering them to say their goodbyes.

The next ten minutes passed too quickly in Harry’s opinion. In a blur of
goodbyes and a several minute walk to the nearby cliff-side clearing, where the
ocean breeze blew powerfully around them and Hagrid readied himself to
transport the four of them.

Then the half-giant let out a deep and tuneless song, in time with the roaring
waves, and in an instant he was falling through a blur of curious colors and
amused piping.

Then the tune ended and he slammed face first into the grass. Harry decided
that he needed to stew in his humiliation for a moment, and he reached out with
his magic to take in his surroundings instead of raising his head.

He hadn’t known what he had expected before he had done it, but in an instant
he felt more magic than he had ever before.

And when he raised his head he was not disappointed…

They had been transported to a hill on a grassy little island, maybe a mile
wide, covered in little white tents where thousands of other children around
their age loitered.

He blinked and pulled himself from the dirt, dusting his tabard off and glanced
between Violet and the newly dubbed George, both of whom were puking their guts
out into the grass.

A large hand rested itself in his shoulder, and spun him around. Hagrid gave
him a small and unusually serious smile. “Well Harry, this is where I leave you
two for now.” He gestured to the little white tent behind them. “This one’s
yours while you wait. It should have enough room for the both of you… plus
George.” He grinned down at them as a still green Violet helped her new pet to
his feet, giving the friendly giant a murderous glare as she did so.

Hagrid nodded, more to himself than to them. “There are provisions inside, and
it shouldn’t be more than one or two more days before all the new students are
gathered up anyways, so you shouldn’t have to wait long.” He shot Harry his
version of a stern look. “Now I want you to be responsible, don’t get into
fights if you can help it, and don’t go agreeing to anything neither.” He said,
implying more than he spoke. “The moment you two stepped onto this island you
were both adults in wizarding law.” He palmed his beard thoughtfully. “That
means you’ll be held accountable for your actions, and your sisters.” He gave
him a meaningful look, and Harry found himself nodding along.

He exhaled explosively and rose up. “Alright… Ok… Try not to cause too much
chaos while you’re waiting.” He gestured out to the assembled mass of would be
students. “And remember, most of them are just as adept at causing trouble as
you two are, so try to be careful.”

And with that he gave them a sharp nod, and then disappeared with a crack.

Violet turned back to him as soon as Hagrid had disappeared, giving George’s
head a rubbing, while fixing him with a grin. “What’d ya say we meet the meat
bro…”She asked him, giving a predatory look at the crowd milling in the field
of tents.

Harry thought to himself for a moment. “Let’s take stock of our stuff before we
draw Jormungand up from the depths.” He answered her. “After all,” he thought
to himself, “What’s the worst that could possibly happen.”

It was, he would recall much later, a manner of action that would set the
precedent for all of those to come later.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
--------------------------------------
Well there’s the Hagrid and Dursley part of the story out of the way for now.

And before anyone asks why I didn’t make the Dursley’s the reincarnations of
Hitler, Pol Pot, and Mao. The reason is simply that shit like that is supremely
overdone. And that it would no longer make sense while keeping their
motivations as intact as possible.

Vernon, for instance was motivated almost entirely by pride and a need for
normality in cannon, and I did not change his motivations at all. What changed
was his definition of what was normal. Basing it instead on the new reality I
created. And in a world where magic never hid itself, it is normal.

Which makes Harry and Violet both normal(ish) to him, and therefore something
he can be proud of, neatly fulfilling the other half of his characters
motivations.

This meant that making them abusive would no longer make sense. It would
directly contradict the characterization of the characters.

And on the twins, the decision to give Harry a sister was not one I made
lightly, and he will be far from the only canon character to have additional
siblings. This was fitting with the setting I’ve created, and I’ll assure you
that it will be explained in the story later.

As for my decision to not include Diagon Ally (yet), and to replace Hedwig with
a Hesperosuchus agilis, well it was something I don’t usually see in fics, and
as I have stated before, I want to at least try to tread new ground in this
fic.

So as I said last time, if you like the story, want to comment, or just think I
should dig a hole and die in it. Please don’t hesitate to leave a comment.
***** Harry's Best Birthday Ever: Part-2 *****
 First off, I suppose I should give thanks to Alonger61 for linking me to the
Pottermore site which has a list of, among other things, a few more schools
than I had been aware of at the time I wrote the first two chapters.

The articles on them are actually pretty interesting from an idea gaining
standpoint. I don’t remember if they were mentioned in the books, but it’s not
like I’m following canon anyways. Though I will admit that it has been quite a
while since I read through the series.

Something I would rectify if I had more free time, and wasn’t so busy writing
this story.

But I digress; the point is that we are back, and with an updated disclaimer!

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
--------------------------------------

The weighted fabric draped over the entrance to their little tent brushed away
easily enough. From the outside Harry had worried that the tent would be too
tiny, it was only barely as tall as he was. But now that he could see inside,
he could see that it was somehow moderately larger on the inside than it had
appeared to be on the outside.

It was still smaller than their room at the keep, but he figured that they
wouldn’t have to sleep in a dogpile unless they actually wanted to.

It was also much sparser than their room back home. With only a small lantern
hung at the apex and few small boxes sitting on a rug the far side, which upon
his examination, contained cheese, bread, and jugs of wine. Across from those
boxes was a small pile of blankets atop a large fur, presumably for sleeping.

Violet casually tossed their sack of possessions on the pile of blankets, and
immediately swiped one of the jugs from one of the open boxes and took a sip,
giving him an unimpressed grimace.

“How is it?” He probed as she swished it in her mouth, not terribly curious in
reality, still more focused on taking in the space they would have to call home
for the next day or so.

“This junk has to be like half water.” She replied.

“Is it really that bad?”

“I think I would get drunk faster off of piss…” She retorted in disgust,
swiftly resealing the jug she had opened.

He shrugged, relatively unconcerned by her petty displeasure. After all, his
uncle had often said that bad alcohol was better than nothing, and his twin got
annoyed by unimportant things often enough that it barely phased him anymore.

“It’s probably just meant to be enough to keep the water potable.” He answered,
scratching George along the scutes, the wiry drake having wandered into the
tent after his masters and sat himself down by his legs.

“And besides, this stuff is just meant to hold us over until all the students
have arrived right?” He questioned no one in particular, fingering a small
block of cheese, while she started unpacking some of the things from their bag,
taking care to hide some of the more questionable goods beneath the pile of
bedding.

“Did Hagrid tell you how long that would take?” She questioned back, in a
rather bored tone.

Harry looked up in surprise from the box of bread he was peeking into. “Violet,
you were there.”

She pouted back at him, crossing her arms in irritation. “Well it’s hard to
listen while puking my guts out, I bet George didn’t hear either!” She ended
with a fervent shout, hooking her arm around the drake in question.

“Vi, whether or not your new pet heard anything is entirely irrelevant.” He
shot back, raising an eyebrow.

She didn’t back down. “Still, we should ask around, see if we can learn
anything before dark.” She gestured to the entrance , her face filling with an
all too familiar excited look. “George can guard our stuff, right George?”

The reptile just yawned in response, flopping down onto its side and rolling
around.

She gave him another eager smirk, brushing her core against his, clasping
closely against him and pulling him towards the tents flap. “See, that leaves
us free to ask around.” Her grin widened, as he brushed her core back in
hesitant compliance.

“Alright Vi, but can we try not to pick any fights yet. Hagrid said we should
be mindful.” He cautioned her, the half-giants words still at the forefront of
his mind.

His sister looked like she wanted to disagree, but thought better of it, and
merely gestured to George. “Stay.” She commanded the drake, who tilted his
narrow head and sat down on his haunches facing the tent flap.

A stiff but warm wind nearly blew him over the second he opened the flap,
blasting his freshly shortened hair across his vision. Harry found himself, and
not for the first time, wishing he was at least slightly more heavyset. Violet
ignored the seas belligerent murmuring, and his own annoyance, just smirking
happily as they exited the tent into the light of the setting sun.

And as they started down the hill, for the second time that day he was stunned.
Their tent had been on top of a small knoll, and because the island was mostly
treeless he could see what he figured was most of the others. Hundreds of the
little white pyramids covered the majority of the island and thousands of what
he assumed to be other prospective students milled around between them, going
back in forth with a thousand unknowable tasks.

Then those poignant thoughts were interrupted, as a half dozen screaming girls
ran past them chasing a rather heavily built brown-haired boy.

“DAMMIT GOYLE!” An almost effeminate looking blonde lad screamed, barreling
around a tent, as he and another more bulky lad trailed behind the small crowed
of girls.

He could feel the aimless vindictive sparks echoing across his bond just in
time to see his sister stick her leg out, tripping the blonde boy flat.

The thin boy squawked as he fell, the other buffer boy staring blankly in
momentary confusion as Violet snickered to herself. He hopped back up
immediately, brushing his expensive looking tunic off while his smallish, oily
core hissed at them venomously. Then he turned, fuming and glaring daggers at
Harry’s sister, who waived back gaily in response.

Harry glared at her too, had he not just reminded her of Hagrid’s earlier
warning only a few moments ago.

“I, you-” The blonde sputtered. “My father will hear about this you-” whatever
curse he was about to utter was cut short as another pair of girls stormed
around the row of tents.

“There you are Draco.” The refined looking blonde with braided hair, who Harry
assumed was the boy’s sister based on her appearance, spoke sharply. “You can’t
just keep running off and leaving me and Pansy alone, she’s your betrothed
and…” she gave him a critical look, “and what on earth happened to your
clothes?”

Draco stammered in muted fury, viciously gesturing at Violet, who was still
smirking back at him with all the subtly of a venomous snake, her aura burning
with aimless chaotic energy.

Harry nodded in the tallish blonde girl’s direction, clasping Violets arm
warningly. “My sister is very sorry about knocking your brother over.” He
interjected before she could make things worse. “Right Vi.”

“N-” He swiftly kicked her shin. “Fine, I’m sorry.” She rolled her eyes back at
him defiantly. “Now can we go and find something to get hammered with?””

Harry was about to give his twin another disapproving look, but the tall girl
flipped her braids and snorted, and he found his gaze drawn back to the four
other children. “Unless you brought good stuff yourself, or you know someone
else who did and is willing to share, you won’t find anything better than the
watered down wine in your tent.” The slender girl bemoaned, cocking her head in
what was probably supposed to be an aristocratic motion. “Nothing like the wine
we have back home, right Draco?”

Draco, having recovered from being made to look like a fool fast enough that
Harry was actually a little impressed, shot back at Violet. “Come now Dior,
it’s not like these peasants would know good wine.” He brushed of the fawning
of the shorter black-haired girl Harry decided was probably Pansy. “It’s
probably an improvement to whatever they’re used to drinking. I mean just look
at how they’re dressed.”

They did have nicer clothes, much nicer Harry realized. Draco and his sister
were dressed in elaborately patterned jade tabards made of felt, over black
silk leggings and silk long-sleeved undershirts, which were paired with very
nice looking and slightly pointed leather shoes.

He and Violet, on the other hand, were both in knee length tan tunics and
sandals. It wasn’t the nicest pair of clothes they owned, but he hadn’t figured
they would need to dress up on the way to school either.

There was, however, one aspect of their appearance that Draco had apparently
missed. Violet slid her new shield off her back and into her left arm with a
single smooth motion, and shield-checked the thin blonde into the muscular boy
behind them, knocking them all over into a pile. Draco immediately started
screaming bloody murder as his twin struggled to slide her falcata from its
sheath, while working to keeping them pinned beneath her cased shield.

Harry felt the magic in the air fizzle, a dozen different nearby cores
crackling wildly in reaction, and he realized his own magic was about to react
involuntarily.

It had happened to them before, though it didn’t happen often, and when it did
there was rarely anything he could do about it.

And then everything was happening too fast, Violet was flung bodily through the
air, her sword going flying as she careened back to him. Landing with a heavy
thud at his feet. Dior, Pansy and a few of the other girls idling nearby
flailed as his magic tried to drag them towards him.

His sister didn’t seem to mind that she had been tossed off Draco though.
“Holy, shit.” she gasped in pleasure, convulsing in sensory overload for a
moment on the ground, “do that again.”

“How about not.” Pansy groaned out breathlessly, her hands on her knees,
shooting him a dirty look which was somewhat ruined by the powerful blush that
covered her entire face and neck.

Harry felt himself flush in embarrassment, while Draco and his friend stood up,
stuck looking somewhere between irritated at being tackled and mortified that
they had been caught flatfooted in the first place. “My apologies about my
sister Draco, she’s just easily excited.” He nodded to the shorter boy, as a
still shivering Violet dragged herself off to retrieve her sword, grinning
widely. “I can make it up to you guys.” He bartered, seeing no real reason to
make enemies with people he knew nothing about before the first day had even
begun.

“It’s fine,” the boy huffed, looking slightly frazzled as he set about brushing
his clothes off for the second time in as many minutes, “if I took every
attempt to kill me personally, I’d be a nervous wreck.” Then blonde
unexpectedly shot him a guarded look. “Was that you?” He asked in a suddenly
quiet tone, abruptly mindful of the girls starting to peak around the corners
of nearby tents, probably looking for the source of the accidental discharge.

Harry just nodded nervously, and waved them back up the hill, wanting to clear
the area before even more prying eyes arrived.

“Crabbe, go make sure Goyle isn’t being mobbed and wait for us back at our
tent.” Dior waved to the heavyset boy, before rubbing her cheeks to clear her
own flush.

Crabbe nodded in acknowledgement, giving Harry a mildly impressed look, before
he wandered off in the direction that the other boy had been chased.

Suddenly he remembered George. “Do you guys know Hagrid.” Harry knew it was
probably a small chance that they would have heard of the man, considering
exactly how many other children appeared to be on the island, but he figured it
was worth a shot. And if it turned out that they did, it would make explaining
how he had ended up with a young drake easier.

All three nodded. “We’ve heard of him.” Dior answered dryly. “He works at the
school as the Head of Keys and Grounds.” Pansy muttered something beneath her
breath, and the tall blonde shoved the shorter girl forward in response. “Our
father says that he likes dangerous animals, drinking, and axes.”

Harry gestured for them to stop as they reached his tent. “Yeah, that he does,
but well the point is… well the point of the story is that he got Violet a
dragon.”

All three of them stared at him, as the redhead in question wandered up, sword
and shield back on her back. “Yeah, Hagrid’s great like that.” She tapped
Draco’s chest casually. “Sorry about that stuff earlier, I get worked up really
easily.”

"It’s why Harry loves me.” She gave the trio a rather debauched grin, jabbing
her thumb at Harry.

Draco gave her a blank stare, which slowly seemed to work its way into horror.
The boy immediately grabbed them both by the arms and dragged them towards the
tent.

George cooed in surprise when the blonde pulled them inside the tent, Pansy and
Dior trailing closely behind them. “You should be more cautious Potter,” the
slender boy said warningly, though to which one of them Harry didn’t know,
“much, more cautious.”

That Draco had guessed their last name surprised him, it seemed to surprise the
girls as well. With Dior immediately sweeping up uncomfortably close, with her
body almost flush against his own, grasping his shoulder with her free arm so
she could sweep his bangs away.

All three of them gasped, which made his twin snort. “It’s like you guys never
saw a scar before.” She mocked them.

The blonde girl said nothing; none of them did, though he could feel some
unspoken communication flutter across the bonds the trio shared. Dior slowly
trailed a finger down the lightning bolt that had been carved into his forehead
for as long as he could remember. “It looks like there was something your
father forgot to tell us.” Pansy whispered, clearly annoyed at something.

Violet cut in, looking annoyed at all the implications flying over her head.
“So are you going to give any explanation Draco, or am I expected to just stand
here while your sister fingers my brother.” They blinked in unison, and Draco
pinched his nose in response.

“How about you two first, like where you’ve been and what you’ve been doing for
the past ten years.” He sat down on one of the tents small rugs. “And while
you’re at it, pass me some of the wine, and don’t give me that look Dior. I
refuse to be the one to have this discussion sober.”

“Is it really your business?” Violet shot back, with George honking in what
might have been endorsement, but she still reached under the pile of blankets
and tossed him one of the skins of mead they had smuggled from home in spite of
her own sentiments, probably just happy to have an excuse to start drinking.

Draco motioned for the group to sit, before replying. “I assume you have
questions too, and it’ll help me answer if I know where you two stand, and
besides this kind of information is more than a fair trade.”

Harry sighed in relief, as Dior stepped back from him and the graceful girl
went and sat next to her brother and his betrothed. “Fair is fair, I suppose.”

Pansy took a deep drag from the skin, rolling it in her mouth, before nodding
slowly in hesitant approval at the quality. Then she flopped back so her head
was in Draco’s lap, and Harry took it as a sign to start. “I think we’ve been
in Shetland since we were nine months old, and our uncle Vernon has been
training us for Dumbledore for the past ten years.” He took pulled a second
skin from beneath the blankets and took a small sip. “He’s Norse so it’s been
mostly fighting, sailing and things related to that stuff.”

“So you’ve been raised by a muggle?” Draco queried, exchanging a rather shocked
look with his sister. “Do you know anything about wizarding culture, or magic,
anything at all about Hogwarts?” He paused and glanced nervously at Violet, who
had unbuckled her shield from its case and started oiling it. “Do either of you
know how to write or read at all.”

His sister snorted at the bit about reading. “Harry is the one who learned all
of that junk.” She waved at him flippantly. “It’s all so boring.”

Harry found himself embarrassed; suddenly painfully aware of how little time he
had actually spent learning when it had not been immediately necessary. “I can
write and read Nordic runes. As for the rest of it, I’m afraid I really only
know a few details from the stuff Hagrid would talk about after he was well
into his cups.”

Pansy took another deep drag, her cheeks already almost back to their earlier
red. “So you basically you guys don’t know shit.” Her head flopped back and she
rubbed her scalp against Draco’s crotch.

“I know how to kick you’re a-” Violet started, but Draco squawking cut her off.

“Pansy now is not the time for that.” He blushed furiously as she flipped over
on her stomach, face against the crotch of his tabard and started sniffing
audibly.

Violet snorted, her face twisted in cruel amusement. “Bit of a lightweight to
be talking shit, isn’t she?”

“You have no idea.” Dior complained, pulling Pansy into her own lap, while
Draco flushed with embarrassment and sniffed the skin of mead suspiciously.

“It’s a Vanilla Metheglin, and we got it from Hagrid, so depending on what
you’re used to it could be a little strong.” Harry cautioned, as the blonde boy
took a much more reserved sip than his betrothed had while attempting to subtly
adjust his tabard.

Violet snorted at him again, and the blonde gave up, shooting Harry an almost
painfully embarrassed glance before continuing. “Ok, we won’t have time to go
over everything, but the gist of what you need to know right now is that you
got that scar ten years ago, in a terrible accident that killed your father and
one of the best leaders we’ve had in more than a hundred years.” He passed the
skin of mead to his sister, who took a sip and picked up where he left off.

“Tom Riddle was the leader of a secretive order under the House of Lords called
the Death Eaters, they worked mostly as intelligence and counterintelligence
agents during the last crusade.” She took another swig. “Your parents, James
and Lily Potter worked for Dumbledore in the Order of the Phoenix, which does
more or less the exact opposite, running offensive strikes, deep in the
territories of the Abrahamic and Ming peoples.”

The attractive blonde passed the skin back to her brother and he continued.
“Point is they were all very famous people, and one day, around ten years ago
they went into a room at Hogwarts, and only your mother and the two of you came
back out alive.” The boy frowned in displeasure. “Even my father, who I should
add is the head of the House of Lords and was second in command in the Death
Eaters doesn’t know the details of what happened that night.”

Violet glanced at Harry then back to the boy. “So who does?”

The boy shrugged at his question. “Your mother, and probably Dumbledore,
neither of whom have said a word about it in ten years.”

A light pattering sound could be heard starting up on the tents walls from
outside, as the sunlight which had been dimming even before they had returned
to the tent, finally started to pitter out completely. The source of the
earlier gusts of wind, revealed to be a light rain, come to batter the island.
“I guess that explains how you recognized us, but what do we need to be careful
of?” Harry probed them, finding himself even more curious than before.

Pansy flipped herself up, grinning drunkenly. “Cause if a lady figures out who
you are, she might just decide to try and take you,” she squirmed in Dior’s
grip, “for better or worse.”

The taller girl rolled her eyes down at the brunette. “Who dropped you off?”
She said, seemingly eager to change the subject.

“Hagrid did.” Violet cut in, having finished polishing her shield, ignoring
that the question had been obviously directed at him and not her.

Dior continued unperturbed. “Did he tell you not to make oaths, to not promise
anything?”

“Come ere George.” His sister interrupted again. The drake stretching, before
ambling over to her so she could oil his scales.

Harry ignored her, nodding at the blonde, who took another sip of the mead
before replying. “Well at least he did one thing right.” She drawled, her pale
skin looking slightly redder than before.

“While most of the girls here are probably too young and inexperienced to be
able to force you into a magical bind,” Draco paused while his sister went
about laying Pansy down in one of the spare blankets. “There are other ways to
ensure our allegiance.” He finished ominously, and Harry got the feeling he was
talking about the two of them specifically.

“Why would anyone want to bond with Harry?” Violet queried, taking an
especially long pull from one of the skins. “I mean you guys were talking all
sorts of shit about us before.”

Dior and Pansy both snorted at that. “That was before your brother gave every
girl in fifty feet weak knees on accident.” The black haired girl giggled,
lolling out on the blanket, very clearly drunk.

Violet moaned at the mention of the moment, running her hand down the exposed
skin of his leg meaningfully. “You still need to do that again Harry.” She gave
him a greedy look, rubbing up past his knee with her free hand.

Then the cloth draped over the entrance to their tent was brushed aside and a
pigtailed cherubic face stuck itself inside. “Sorry to interrupt,” the little
waif chirped, “But I brought some embers with me, and since it seems like no
one else thought to, I figured I would pass it around and help everyone light
their lanterns.”

“Oh, and I’m Hannah by the way.” She waved cheerfully.

Harry waved back to her, standing with the sack of mead as the others in the
tent nodded in greeting. “Thanks for the fire; we’ve got some mead of you want
to try some.”

“I’d take a sip, but I’ve already had a couple and I think everyone who’s got
any is going to offer some.” She declined his offer, as George honked at her
sleepily. “And I need to be able to make it back to Susan even if it really
starts pouring.”

Harry helped her pull the parchment lantern down from the tents apex, and
together they lit the candle’s wick with the embers she had brought in a small
ceramic pot.

Then strange little blonde nodded at the small flame, and with her self-
appointed work done, she vanished back into the dark and rain with nothing more
than a cheerful wave.

His sister sniffed, derisively. “Someone’s had a few too many magic mushrooms
tonight.”

Harry fixed her with a disapproving glance as he tied the lantern back up. “You
could try and help people too.”

“Yeah, I could.” She gave him a sleepy smile. “I’m not going to, but I could.”
She finished her statement with a deep draw from the mead.

Draco yawned sleepily as a peal of thunder rattled the island. “You mind if we
sleep here Harry?” He asked, taking another draw from their skin. “Our tent is
on the other side of the island, and I’ve heard we were supposed to get a
pretty nasty storm tonight.”

Harry shrugged, relatively unconcerned. They seemed nice enough, and he figured
he still did owe the other boy for his twin’s misbehavior. “I don’t mind.” He
shrugged, figuring it would be cramped, but if it started to storm heavily or
got very cold, that wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing. “What about you
Violet?”

His sister didn’t reply verbally. Instead she flopped back into the nest of
blankets she had arranged for herself earlier and waved at him in a dismissive
way, while she clutched a new skin of mead possessively.

“I don’t think she cares.” Dior noted, squirming uncomfortably in place as her
brother slouched down next to his betrothed.

“Draco, how drunk are you?” She whispered to her brother in a more breathy
tone, eyes starting to dart around their little space in a manner Harry found
odd, until he recognized the looks as one he had seen on Violet quite often.

He shrugged at her. “We don’t have a chamber pot, sorry...” He apologized to
the attractive girl awkwardly.

Draco groaned in annoyance, leaning up on his elbows, and shooting Harry a
rather drunk look. “You want to do me a favor Harry? Take my sister to the…
shit what did that Latin girl call it?”
“
The sign above the door said latrine Draco.” Pansy answered sleepily, not even
bothering to open her eyes.

Harry nodded. “Sure, I should probably go too. Just let me get out our cloaks.”
He opened their bag and frowned. “Violet, did you remember to pack our cloaks?”
They weren’t nice cloaks, Trude had simply attached clasps to convert an old
pair of thick woolen blankets, but they would be better than nothing in the
present weather.

His sister rolled over to glare at him. “Three pairs of tunics and three pairs
of tabards.” She growled out rather quickly, considering her state of
intoxication.

“I also reminded you specifically not to under pack this time.” He wasn’t going
to give her that bit of ground again, especially with a third of a pint of
Hagrid’s potent mead in his blood.

Dior cut them off, before the argument could devolve further. “Can we just
split one of these blankets?”

Violet gave the girl an amused sniff, but Dior and Harry ignored her and he
grabbed one of the thicker looking blankets and draped it over his shoulders,
motioning for her to join him. “Alright, you’ll have to show me where this
place is.” He pulled her up as she rose unsteadily, feeling more than a bit
uncomfortable as the aristocratic girl gripped his waist tightly.

“It’s along the islands western edge.” She answered quietly, as they stepped
out past the tent flap into the drizzling rain. “You should be able to see it.”
She turned them to walk past the tent and he did see a shape in the dark,
illuminated through the rain by the hundreds of softly glowing tents.

Her grip on his waist tightened as they began walking down the other side of
the hill, and he was suddenly grateful that the shadows of the blanket would
hide his blush.

§

Hermione glared at the girl, as though her sheer frustration could teach the
muscled blonde how to speak Greek.

While she wasn’t quite sure how long they had been sitting naked in the pile
hay, she figured any amount of time was too much. And with her sister Melody,
as per the usual, being absolutely useless. It left her the task of trying to
figure out how to get them both out of the current mess.

The fact that yelling at people for being absolutely worthless meant that she
didn’t have to think about the events of the past day was certainly a bonus.

Because she really didn’t want to have to think about the fact that the only
reason she would be here was if she was actually a witch.

“I’m going to ask you again to speak properly, and if you don’t you’ll leave me
no choice but to figure out a way to have you punished!” She growled in her
best stern tone, not that she or her sister had been able to leave the hex
carved into the wood beneath the straw, but she figured she would eventually
figure something out.

The tall blonde peasant she had been arguing at seemed to barely care. Replying
in something that sounded like it might have been a dialect of German.

They had been at this for what she figured was most of an hour. After she had
accepted the humiliation of being naked in front of hundreds of people, mostly
because everyone else was in the same boat as she was and there was nothing she
could do to change it, she had decided to try and ask some of the other
children around her if they knew anything about what was going on.

Which lead to her learning that she was surrounded by barbarians and
blasphemers. There wasn’t anyone but Catholics and Muslims all around her hex,
not a single Greek speaker among the whole of them.

Something she found pretty frustrating by itself. It was almost enough to
distract her from her own nakedness.

“Mione, I want to go home!” And speaking of distractions, Melody had woken up
and the younger girl had jumped straight into one of her moods.

Of course, there really wasn’t anything she could do about it. She couldn’t
bring them home, as desperate as she was to undo the events of the past day,
she didn’t have the slightest clue where she could even start.

Of course they couldn’t go back even if they wanted to, stuck in the hex as
they were, and even if they could, she knew it would be an instant death
sentence.

She also very strongly doubted that the mage that had kidnapped them would even
let them try.

Which meant they were both stuck in the ships hold for the time being, and that
they would have to accept it.

“Just be quiet for one minute Melody. I’m trying to talk.” She hissed down at
her little sister for the umpteenth time.

The girl chose to pout at her adorably. “But you’ve been yelling at people for
like… forever!” She spun her arms around, shaking her head. “It won’t work
Hermione.”

“It won’t work, it won’t work, it won’t wor-” Hermione cut off her obnoxious
shouting, slapping a hand over her mouth in frustration.

“You only have to say it ONCE Melody.” She lectured her little sister, who
flopped back into the hay in response, with her bare little chest heaving from
shouting.

She scowled, resolving that she would figure this out, she would succeed,
regardless of what she had to do about it.

§

The Latrine was an actual building as it turned out. Not an overly large tent
as he had first guessed that it might be.

That being said, it was still just a simple squat structure that hung
precariously next to the sea cliff, with a small overhang that let them duck
out of the rain while they searched for the door.

“Have you actually been inside Dior?” He asked his new companion, who had taken
to wiggling around in his grip, as she squirmed in what he assumed was growing
desperation.

She pulled him further around the curved wall, to where a modest entrance
gaped, and they ducked inside. “I was inside when we arrived yesterday
evening.” She hissed uncomfortably, as she ducked with him into an oddly curved
room dimly lit by little lanterns on the walls. “This hallway swirls around the
entire building to a small bathing room in its center.”

The hallway, it soon turned out, was indeed a single continuous bench set into
either side of the corridor that had rounded holes cut into them in a manner he
wasn’t familiar with.

Harry could hear the ocean in the corridor too, and feel it actually; the
building trembled in sync with the sound of waves.

He noticed that were alone, except for a tiny little brunette who sat with her
dress bunched around her waist, pee hissing hard, alone on one of the carven
holes. Then an instant later, he realized why he could hear the sea so well.

From below them came a particularly loud crash from the waves, and the brunette
shot off the toilet with a terrified shriek, foamy water shooting from the
unoccupied seats and from a series of drains set into the sloping floor.

Dior laughed as the small, and now very wet girl hopped up and down in place,
patting cold water off her naked butt rapidly, and he found himself chucking
along with her in spite of himself.

The other girl shot them a humiliated glare and rushed past them in a curse
filled huff, presumably making her exit. Dior gave an amused sigh as she
finishing laughing, and together they made their way around the spiraling
hallway as she lead him to the buildings round center bath.

It was a bigger room than he had thought it would be, and he wondered of it was
some trick of the darkness, or if the same witchcraft that had fashioned the
tent had been involved.

A tiny oil lamp dimly lit up the warm little room. Which was little more than a
dozen raised water filled basins, with a few hooks on the walls that he
presumed were for hanging bather’s clothes.

“I think we’re alone Harry.” The tall girl noted drunkenly, and she flopped
back against the far wall, pulling him with her. Firmly caressing the outside
of his core, as she wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling at him until
they were flush against each other and he could easily feel her thighs
squeezing together against his own.

“Dior you’re drunk, are you sure you know what you’re doing?” He cautioned the
alluring blonde, smelling the mead on her gasping breaths as she panted heavily
into his face.

Harry for his part knew was probably more than a bit drunk as well. But he was
just sober enough to wonder, not just if they would be in trouble if they were
caught, but also if he shouldn’t feel slightly guilty. Because while Draco
certainly wasn’t the most masculine boy he had ever met, and he didn’t doubt
for a moment he could beat him in a fight. He didn’t really want the boy to be
mad at him because he had violated the other youths trust.

And while he knew practically nothing about wizarding culture, he was pretty
damn certain that he would be more than a little mad if another boy made off
with Violet.

But despite the earlier warning and his own internal misgivings, the willowy
girl merely pressed her slender frame against him more firmly in response to
his question.

And suddenly he was aware that she was drunk on more than just the mead. That
cool feeling as her core pulled against his with even more insistently than her
physical self was clutching him.

“I want it.” She moaned hotly, nuzzling into the black hair trailing falling on
his shoulders. “Can I have it?” She begged the obvious question, grinding her
trembling crotch against his rapidly hardening member. “I’ll drink yours if you
drink mine” She pleaded with him, moving to stare glassily into his eyes with a
lecherous grin on her lips.

Then the braided girl shifted him closer to lick his ear languidly, and Harry
shuddered at her action and the sheer dirtiness of her invitation, but he
rallied himself and pressed her back against the wall firmly. “Draco?”

She snorted into his neck in a rather unladylike fashion at his question.
“We’re not like you two.” She answered as she shivered hard again, and he idly
wondered if she was getting off on her own desperation. “As long as you don’t
do something that would bond me, he’ll never even know.”

He reached down and brushed aside her tabard to grope the crotch of her
leggings. “And that would be?” He asked. Mindful of his own ignorance, while
she moaned in response to his ministrations and her nails went raking down the
back of his tunic.

“No penetration below the waist with your thing," She blushed as she alluded to
his penis, "or else you’ll form a mate bond.” She pressed him down by his
shoulders and Harry allowed himself to kneel before her. “I think anything else
should be fine though.”

“Didn’t you guys just warn me against this kind of thing like an hour ago?” He
muttered up to her rhetorically, still not quite believing how far the
situation had already escalated in such a short time.

Dior just slid the front of her tabard around his head, her slender fingers
pulled him by his hair so he was buried nose deep in the sweaty crotch of her
leggings, in response. The black silk there was slightly moist and smelled
strongly of the aforementioned sweat and the blonde’s feminine musk; with a
slight whiff of what he assumed was probably some sort of perfume. “Just do it
please.” She pulled her leggings down to her knees and pressed his face into
the gap between her legs. “Please Potter; I want it to be my turn so bad it
hurts.” She begged, her core pulled at his excitedly, while she pulled his long
hair and thrust his nose towards her puffy sex.

He took a moment to examine her with what little light he had, idly comparing
her vagina to Violet’s. The blonde’s slit, he decided, was more of a mound.
Unlike his sisters, it protruded like a tiny and adorable little peach that
dripped its musky honey which ran in rivulets down the sides of her slender
thighs. She pulled at his hair desperately again, trying hard to drag him
forward but he held off, wanting to examine her sex further. He noted that she
also lacked the little patch of fuzz on her pubis that Violet loved to run her
fingers over when they were alone.

Then his internal musing was cut short as Dior began crying out. “Oh, shit! Oh,
shit!” and he allowed her to jam his face against her mound. Opening his mouth
quickly, remembering her strange deal only at the very last instant.

Harry obediently worked her entire peach, and he had decided on that name in
his mind, into his mouth so he could run his tongue against it without losing
anything. Squeezing the cheeks of her butt with his hands, pulling and kneeding
at them, while he braced for the first burst. He wasn’t disappointed in her.
The hot splash of acrid flavor against his lapping tongue made him shiver, and
Dior dropped back against the wall in relaxation. With her wet thighs and
buttocks trembling in his hands while she whimpered and moaned, draining her
bladder in desperate jets onto his sucking mouth.

He found himself licking at her mound in a relaxed pace. Forced to swallow down
the bitter warm liquid as quickly as he could to avoid having it overflow from
his mouth, or even worse, shoot out his nose. And while he was as unused to the
brackish flavor, as he was to the act itself, he was willing to go along with
the drunk blonde’s suggestion for the moment.

The fact that his alcohol clouded mind and he was pretty sure she had promised
to return the favor probably helped his willingness to perform this new action
as aptly for her as he could.

Though he had done something similar on one occasion before, when Violet’s own
impatience had let to her splattering his face while he was licking her out. He
though idly about the incident as he gulped down another girl’s urine, how his
normally selfish sister had been unusually embarrassed by her act of accidental
incontinence, and how she had not asked for him to perform the act again for
nearly a week afterwards.

Dior didn’t hadn’t seemed as selfish on the face of it, but in her drunken
condition she had apparently left her own consciousness exposed, and the animal
part of her mind decided it wanted to take all she could allow herself to take
from him.

It was probably a display of her sober competence that she even had had the
concentration to barter with him at all in her intoxicated state. Instead of
just trying to pin him and leech at his core like Violet usually did. Instead
the pretty blonde had made a deal, and would be able to say claim had been
diplomatic, as opposed to pushy about it.

Not that he really minded either way. He thought to himself as the girls flow
tapered off to nothing, and he let her vagina pop free from the suction of his
mouth as she slumped down on the wall, collapsing into a shivering mess on the
floor in front of him.

He swished the last bitter gulp around in his mouth, and then a wicked thought
entered his head as he watched her mewl in pleasure against the wall. He
grabbed her by the braids in her hair, and forced the last mouthful of her own
urine past her lips.

The blonde for her part just gasped against his kiss, suddenly submissive in
the face of his assertiveness, and she swallowed obediently while he pinned
down her tongue her with his. He pulled back so they were nose to nose and Dior
gasped again, licking at the thin strand of saliva still between them. “Is it
my turn yet?” she gasped out lustily, her own core rubbing his as she gave him
a blatantly glazed expression.

‘Really,’ Harry thought, feeling a lustful smile spread across his lips at her
question, ‘Who am I to deny such a pretty face?”

He spun the taller girl around, switching places with her so he could sit back
against the wall. Then he pulled her head down with her long yellow braids,
pressing it against the front of his tunic. Feeling a thrill shoot down his
spine and settle in his crotch as he rubbed her face against his hardness
through the thin cloth.

She responded to his prodding in much the same way Pansy had done to Draco
earlier, inhaling deeply on the patch of cloth his precum had made moist,
nuzzling her face against the cloth with a desperate insistence.

Unlike Draco, however he had no intentions of stopping her. Instead he mumbled
down encouragement and held her there more firmly, grinding his hips harder
against her face while she moaned open-mouthed and licked at him through his
tunic.

Salt stung his eyes, as the sweat that beaded his brow and dampened his hair
went dripping down his face. His flesh felt like he had a fever, and he knew he
was probably about as red as he had been in a while.

Dior was red too, the flush standing out brilliantly against her pale skin, and
she only got redder when she finally flipped his tunic up after a few minutes
had passed.

She squeaked as his drooling penis slapped against her nose. He smirked as it
left a shiny trail across her forehead, and she instinctually pressed her nose
firmly against its base, licking his sack while she inhaled his scent hard and
looked up at him pleadingly.

Harry knew he wasn’t the biggest in the world yet; his length only about four
and a half inches long and maybe an inch wide at its max, but Draco’s sister
seemed to be plenty impressed anyway. Her glazed eyes were wide, focusing on
the skin covered bulb that sat on the end of his penis. The sight left him to
idly wonder if she had even ever seen one before.

He reached a hand down and smacked her with it again, on the cheek this time,
and she moaned up at him in response. “This part is going in your mouth.” He
whispered down at her, trying to be quiet as he pulled the extra skin from the
top, revealing the angry red helmet that topped his member.

The hand in her hair guided her firmly from his balls, until her hot breath
washed over the tip of his drooling penis, sending tingles up from his crotch
that he could feel in his fingertips. Her tongue flicked out at his penis, in
defiance of his hand gripping her braids, and grazed the very tip.

The prickling feeling that had already been running down his spine burst into
an even more powerful sensation, and he fought against the urge to jam her down
until her nose ground his crotch, as he groaned in pleasure.

In the end he decided that her submission so far probably meant that she, like
his twin Violet, probably wouldn’t mind a little roughness. His penis struck
her forehead again, and he rubbed the sensitive head against it. Reveling in
the sensation of it sliding in a moist trail over her sweaty brow, and the
feeling of power over her that it gave him.

Then he slammed her head down hard as far as it would go, not stopping until he
heard her choke as his bulb stabbed the very back of her throat and her lips
reached nearly to the base of his penis.

Dior, for her part, merely made a “Gurk…” sound as she gagged on him. Slapping
her hands onto his thighs as he pulled her head back slightly and slammed her
face down again even further, grinding her nose into the little dusting of
black hair that nested around above his penis.

The feeling was incredible, like a hot, wet, vibrating silk sliding down him,
and he didn’t even bother to try and hold back. Instead he thrust his hips as
hard as he could, against her mouth several times, and then settled for
grinding his helmet along the inside of her throat. Holding her face down
firmly, while she dug her nails into his thighs, and he listened to her gag.

The pleasurable tingles exploded, and his penis felt like it was on fire, he
knew it was a pointless battle to try and fight. So he drew back just enough
that the girl under him had started to inhale, and he slammed home and
ejaculated.

This time she really did choke, while he held her down and exploded against the
back of her throat. He moaned hoarsely as his hips bucked, his head flopped
back against the wall, and his legs locked around her head in sync as his hands
ground her violently into his pelvis.

He held that position for several seconds, cumming hard while she twitched and
slapped his knees, and felt his sack tightened again and again with semen
pulsing down the length of his penis.
When he finished they both went limp, he released his hold on her braids and
her head popped up slightly. She retched immediately onto his stomach, with
what he found himself hoping was his cum, her face falling limply against his
crotch as she coughed and heaved onto his softening penis.

Running his fingers affectionately down the back of her neck, he chanced a look
down. Her face flipped over to look at him only a moment later.

She was a mess; her empty eyes glanced up in his general direction, with his
semen running down her chin and out from her nose to pool with the mess in his
belly button. He wiped a tear from the side of her face, and rubbed her nose
into the puddle of cum there, wincing at the oversensitivity as her chin rubbed
against his penis, using her face to mop up the mess she had made.

Dior just trembled at his actions, lapping the pool up weakly, the pretty girl
moaning mindlessly at his actions. Wrapping her lips around his now softened
length and suckling like a baby.

Together they lay like that, him against the wall and her limply on the floor
with his penis in her mouth, sweat and semen drying slowly. And eventually he
felt a familiar pressure building in his bladder.

Dior, who had been pretty out of it, seemed to come back to herself slightly,
like she could sense his urge herself. He noticed as the pressure came to him,
that her eyes were a little less empty than they had been a moment ago, a
little more focused.

Her tongue flexed its way into the little sheath of skin that protected his
head. Parting the little slit on the end just as he relaxed his own bladder
into her mouth.

In an instant he knew she was taking in more than his pee. He could feel the
cold sparks that came with a core latching on to his own as she started
leeching at his magic, and he watched her come back to herself in real time.
The look in her eyes was suddenly more sober than it had been in hours.

She didn’t release him though. But instead she continued to swallow as he
finished peeing; now trying to smirk up at him arrogantly. Though her attempt
at passing for composed was rather ruined by all of the semen and tears
staining her face, the frazzled state of her once orderly braids, and fact that
she had his penis stuck between her lips.

He didn’t really understand the appeal she found in the action. Though he did
find that it was fairly relaxing and sensual to feel her tongue sliding around,
he didn’t think it compared to the pleasure he had garnered moments earlier. In
the end, he chopped it up to girls being different.

Dior popped his penis free from her mouth with a pant; no longer looking like
his scent was holding her under compulsion, and looking relatively dignified
for having her face absolutely smeared with sweat, saliva and still moist
semen.

“You didn’t have to be that rough, you ass.” She growled up at him hoarsely. “I
was choking to death on this shit.” She swallowed reflexively, and ran her
finger through the cum still dripping from her nose, examining the fluid
disapprovingly before sucking her finger clean.

Harry just snorted, and started helping the girl to her feet. “I don’t recall
you complaining at the time…”

She rolled her eyes at that, punching his shoulder weakly. “And I wonder why
that would be?”

He placed his hands on her shoulders as she pulled her leggings back up,
playfully pressing her against the wall to suck on her shoulder, before pulling
back and watching her thin legs wobble precariously.
“So no repeat performances?” He smirked back at her impishly.

“Cheeky bastard.” She shot back, looking less annoyed as she gripping her arm
around his shoulder to help steady herself and they worked their way back down
the hallway and out into the rain.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
--------------------------------------
Well, if I can keep to the schedule of a chapter every week. I should have book
one finished in only a few months.

And as for explanations… Well, as I said before, I wanted to try and do not
just new things, but also do things that have need done in a new way.

Which is why Harry meets Draco first, but fear not gentle readers, Ronald will
show up soon.

So as for the characterization for Harry, I went for a generally nice kid who
wants to fit in with his peers, but who suffers from a lack of impulse control
and a half worthless education.

Draco is as close to his canon personality as I could allow him to be. Being
both proud of his heritage and ambitious, but also suffering from arrogance and
incompetence, heaped atop of terrible luck.

Dior and Violet were meant to be sort of mirror exaggerations of some of their
siblings traits. While Harry is impulsive but well meaning, Violet is
aggressive and selfish. Dior is proud like Draco, less arrogant but with even
less ambition.

Speaking of Draco’s sister, I thought it fitting to give her a suitably
condescending name. Dior is French and according to my source it means gold or
golden. Which I thought fit the Malfoy's pretty well, and I went with a French
name because many of the stories I’ve read placed the Malfoy family as
heralding from that nation.

As for the watersport lewd, I had one of my buddies helping me come up with
ideas for this chapter and a few others, and while not exactly my normal cup of
tea. I did say I would let him pick the subject for the first lemon in the
story and I had fun writing it.

And as for me giving him a penis that was a more realistic length. Well there
wasn’t a reason not to, and I am tired of people deciding that thirteen-year
olds having dicks that would put most porn stars to shame.

So speaking of the porn, I hope I did that part competently.

Also, I just recently remembered that Harry’s birthday isn’t anywhere near
Hermione’s, but have decided to roll with it anyways as it's a little late to
change that part of the story.

So as always, reviews, comments, ideas and death threats are welcome.
***** Of Rituals and Rabid Sisters *****
I just want to note that I find it increasingly odd how so many fics use things
like “magical bonds” and other such terminology, with absolutely no attempt to
portray how such things would logically change a society.
I mean it even makes a lot of sense that something like bonds would develop if
you consider all of the terrifying, existentially horrifying, things wizards
can do to each others minds with just the spells and stuff in canon.
Usually it’s just used to make whoever is the protagonist look extra special.
Suffice to say, I will not be taking that route…
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
--------------------------------------
Violet was a person that could be described easily by many words. Words like
irresponsible, lustful, belligerent, hedonistic, and selfish. And it was
selfishness that was the emotion she was feeling now.

Well that plus a little horny, but she wasn’t happy about that.

And it was all her brother’s fault.

It had been more than an hour since Harry had wandered off with the blonde
harlot, and she was only getting more annoyed with them by every minute that
passed.

Draco hadn’t even noticed, simply spooning up to the black haired girl and
throwing a blanket over them both. And as far as she could tell they had both
been asleep the entire time.

But she wasn’t sleeping, initially because she had opted to continue drinking,
but now because… well she wasn’t sure why she wasn’t asleep yet.

Maybe she wanted to catch the pair coming back from what she was sure was some
sort of sexual escapade, if she was interpreting the pulses echoing back from
her connection with Harry even slightly correctly.
Did she want to confront him though? What would she do if she was wrong? The
thoughts brought a frown to her lips even though she didn't think she was
gauging the pulses incorrectly.
There had been the usual drunken fumbling, the awkwardness and a moment of what
felt like humor. This had been followed almost immediately by a sort of aroused
heat that she had rarely ever felt directed at anyone else but herself.

It annoyed her to no end that someone else was getting her attention.

And so she sat, waiting in the tent and listing to the breathing of the other
occupants, awake and waiting for a reason she really didn’t understand.

George hopped up from where he had been sleeping with only a moment’s notice,
and she immediately flopped back onto the furs, pretending to be asleep. It
wasn’t a ruse that would fool Harry if he was really paying attention, but she
was pretty sure at this point that he would be distracted to notice.

The tent’s flap rustled as the pair stumbled inside, whispering secretively to
each other. Dior chuckling hoarsely at something he said, as the two sat down,
and her guts wriggled uncomfortably inside at it. Harry leaning back onto the
furs she was pretending to sleep on with the blonde lolling out and relaxing
between where Draco and his brunette were sleeping.

She chanced another peek, they were wiping the mud from their footwear with a
rag, sharing it between the two of them, and Violet had to restrain herself to
keep Harry unaware that she was still awake. The blondes face, she could see
easily when her brother stood up to blow out the lantern, was smeared still in
glistening white patches, and when he lay down behind her, and wrapped his arms
around her waist, she could smell sex and sweat on his body.

Violet knew she wasn’t a genius, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out what
had happened.

What was worse was that it was making her wetter, the reality of that made her
even more frustrated. And now that she was lying down she found herself
fighting a losing battle with the alcohol as well.

With Harry back, and wrapped around her, her body had decided that she had
denied it the drunken slumber it wanted for long enough.

She frowned to herself, supposing there would be plenty of time for her to get
back at him tomorrow.

§

The Roman's had begun singing.

Hermione hadn’t realized that she had fallen asleep until she heard the
unfamiliar chanting, and realized she was lying flat in the straw, her stomach
clenching in a ravenous hunger.

It seemed that there were at least a few people on the ship that spoke the same
language. Verses of what must have been a popular hymn in the Holy Roman Empire
were echoing across the inside of the ship as they sung to each other quietly.

She sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Melody was flopped in the hay
nearby, snoring softly.

Then someone started chanting in Arabic and all suddenly the singing was
deafening as everyone tried to out-compete one another. There were a few
moments when she imagined she could hear someone singing in Greek but she
wasn’t so sure where it had come from over the cacophony.

Her sister had swung up at the noise and wrapped herself around her in fright.
“Mione, what’s going on?” The smaller girl warbled, clawing at her like she was
trying to hide somehow inside her older sister.

“Someone losing their mind to hunger induced insanity I would guess.” She
winced as the girls nails dug sharply into her chest as the little girl clung
to her from behind. “Ow, Melody get your hands off of me this instant.” She
growled at the younger, trying to pry the girl’s fingers off her.

Then there was a tingling feeling that came across her skin, and Melody shot
off her with a pained yelp.

And the all of the nearby singing died in an instant.

She had no idea what had happened, but they were staring at her… again. “What
are you looking at you filthy heathen?” She hissed at the Germanic girl from
earlier, who she had seen was staring at her with an absolutely horrified look
on her rather roughly cut face.

Then she smelled the smoke, and looked down to realize she had somehow set the
hay on fire, and that there were sparks of lightning rippling across her own
naked body.

So she did what any reasonable person would do in her position, and absolutely
panicked.

Hermione rarely swore, the priests had said it was a filthy habit and she had
obeyed their authority, but the string of utter profanities she let loose while
trying to pat down herself and the burning hay with her bare hands was about as
good as anything the sailors that her father had in his employ had ever said.

Melody was likely going to be reminding her about it for years to come,
provided they didn’t both roast to death here.

Then she realized that the patting was just making it worse, her hands still
crackled with lines of tiny lightening, and every pat just spread the flames
further. And her sister was screaming, which made the people around her start
screaming, and Hermione just wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

Suddenly there was an earsplitting crack, but she still slapped at the growing
flames desperately, she didn’t have time to care about random noises.

She didn’t even notice that the screaming had turned to whispering until she
found herself patting down a pile of unburned straw. “Well Miss Granger, you
can color me impressed.” The amused voice of the stern guard battered through
the gates of her disbelieving mind.

Not just voice, as her head swung to look up her eyes deceived her. That was
the only thing that made sense.

Standing before her was the old woman, now dressed in the finest red robe she
had ever seen, and clutching what was clearly a magic staff in her hand.

“I leave you alone for not even a full day and you’re trying to burn yourself
at the stake.” She gave Hermione a look of wry disapproval. “You’ve got some
kind of dedication I’ll give you that.” The old woman said, running a hand over
her steely hair with a sarcastic sigh.

She felt her jaw drop. “WHAT IS- If I…” She trailed off, her brain stuck
between fury, confusion and a curiosity she wanted gone. Hermione inhaled,
breathing deeply before replying. “What is the meaning of this?” She waved her
hands at the hold for clarification, trying to sound angry instead of curious.

“Well the spell used to transport you here only takes one object, and I
actually need your clothes to dress the dummies currently taking your places at
the stakes." The woman explained. "As for the sealing spells on the hexes… well
we’ve tried going without them, and it ended in a full scale war breaking out
in the hull so-”

Melody, perhaps having recovered from being electrocuted, cut the matron off.
“Wah! You’re that scary lady!” She jabbed her finger at the woman, and Hermione
resisted a small grin as she noticed that her younger sister’s hair was still
smoking slightly.

She gave Melody a tight lipped smile. “Yes little one, I am one and the same,
but you can call me Minerva or Mrs. McGonagall here. As I take great care to
distance myself from that messy part of my duties while at school.” The woman,
now identified as Minerva, replied genially.

The sickening feeling was back, and it was stronger than ever, but she pressed
on regardless. “Melody, it’s rude to point at people. And that still doesn’t
explain why I’m here.” She butted her sister back, instantly realizing she had
asked a question she really didn’t want answered.

The grey-haired woman gave her that same genial, almost pitying look. “It is
quite simple; one of my many tasks is to scout for new students.” She replied
evenly. “But you’re a smart girl, and I suspect that this latest little
incident only proves what you already knew to be true.”

There wasn’t any malice in the woman’s words, but she felt like someone was
twisting a knife into her stomach as she continued. “Hermione Granger, you are
a witch.” She waved at the hold full of children. “You and most of the other
children on this ship have enough magic to be applicable as student of Hogwarts
School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and have so been rescued from the terrible
fate that would have befallen you, had you stayed behind in your respective
homelands.” Hermione’s world spun insanely at that declaration.

She figured that she must have blacked out at that point of the woman’s
explination, as that was the last of that conversation she had any memory of.

When she awoke, she saw that the ladder to the ships hold was down, and the
hold itself was wide open, letting in brilliant daylight and illuminating the
many older teens in colorful robes gathering the other children.

There also seemed to be a purple haired lunatic woman, in hideously bright
yellow robes, grinding her fist onto her sister’s hair, while Melody squealed
in panic. She found herself stuck between being angry, offended, frustrated and
terrified. The worst part was that she wasn’t sure whether those emotions were
directed at those around her, or at herself.

The other girl seemed not to notice her existential breakdown. “Wotcher Mione,
I’m Tonks!” Tonks waved good-naturedly with arm not wrestling her sister. “You
and this adorable little sock puppet get to be in my party this year, aren’t
you lucky.” The yellow-robed teen grinned at her manically.

§

Harry was dreaming again, this time of some strange blasted landscape. His
dreaming form scuttled across a rocky and ice frosted beach, the squat
mountains that sat across the bay of thinly running liquid were completely
barren, the whole landscape seemed devoid of any kind of life.

It was just a freezing desert on the edge of an ocean of liquid that did not
move like water.

So he lay flat, resting his eight legs on the grit and letting the algae
growing inside the clear shell on his back feel the warmth of the dim brown sun
that took up half of the greenish sky.

There was no reason hurry, nothing seemed to be around, and the thick miasma
flowed around him languidly, in a steady pattern.

But then he felt his gills flittering uncomfortably in tune to a sensation on
his antenna, there was something was making the very aether around him tremble.

‘Maybe it was time to return to the shallow bay after all…’ The thought
flickered down the chain of ganglia that formed his nervous system.

And then an instant he was no longer dreaming. He was back in the tent with
Violet roughly straddling his hips, trying to shove her tongue as far down his
throat as she could, as violently as she could.

His head was throbbed with a hangover, and he found that he didn’t quite
remember much of anything. So he decided to do what he normally did when he
awoke to her angrily attacking him.

The attempt to flip her off of him went better than it normally would have, and
it left him wondering if she was still drunk from whatever trouble they had
been getting into last night.

Then there was a startled squawk from someone, who was defiantly not Violet,
and the memories of yesterday rushing back at just the right time for him to be
distracted for her second tackle.

Her core scraped against his in a kind of vulnerable anger, burning like acid,
so he placed his hands into her shoulders and flipped them over, evicting
another yelp from someone unseen beneath the blankets while he worked to pin
down her core with his own.

He held her down, locking eyes as she squirmed and writhed in his grip, and
lashed across their bond with jealous emotions. He waited like that until the
moment her head fell to the side in submission, exposing her throat as she
ceased struggling, glaring in impotent anger at the tents far wall.

“Bloody balls Potter! What was that about?” Pansy groaned out, and figured he
had probably tossed his sister on top of the sleeping brunette.

He tried to shrug, loosening his grip on his Violet’s wrists cautiously, in
case she got any more bright ideas. “Sorry about that.” He said, and Violet
hissed at them in response. So he dropped his weight, this time on her
shoulders, pressing her more firmly into the blankets.

“I’m still going to kill you!” She growled, not looking at him but sliding her
nails down his back possessively, now that her arms were free.

He didn’t relent. “Vi, I want you to calm down.”

Someone else groaned, the kind of groan that people made when they had a bad
hangover, and Draco butted in. “What time is it guys?”

“I don’t wanna!” Violet shouted up at him petulantly, shaking her head and
making her already messy hair even scruffier, stray red frazzles sticking out
at odd angles.

“Fucking swell guys, can we not do this first thing in the morning.” The blonde
groaned in pain, clutching his head as his hangover hit him fully.

Their tent flap slid open and Dior sauntered in, looking freshly cleaned. She
shot them an amused look, and he slid to sit next to Violet, who settled with
glaring at the blonde girl and pouting at everyone else from on her back.

Dior just waved it off. “Alright everyone we need to start getting ready to
leave. The Esquires seem to be arriving, and there are several ships with the
foreign-borne anchored nearby the island.”

His sister blinked, calming slightly in the face of a mess of terms she knew
nothing about. Draco, maybe sensing their unease, preempted her question in a
dazed voice. “Foreign-borne is a catchall for students coming as tribute like
you guys, or those rescued from countries where magic is banned.” He slapped
the top of a box open, and drained a jug of watered-down wine with a few quick
gulps. “Esquire is a proper title granted to students of high standing for
various purposes. In this case, it’s the honorific term used for those that
have chosen to tutor groups of initiates through their first years at
Hogwarts.”

“Hufflepuffs the whole lot of them.” Pansy spat in disgust, covering her eyes
with a blanket.

Violet chose that moment to grace them with a question. “What the fuck is a
Hufflepuff?” She ran a hand though her messy hair, still shooting Dior a glare.
“Sounds like some kind of skin disease.”

Pansy burst out laughing at that, but immediately clutched her head and groaned
in pain, while Draco and Dior fixed her with a mildly bemused glance.

“Hufflepuff, is the name of one of the four houses students get sorted into at
the end of their first year.” The blonde girl explained. “Those who are very
hardworking or friendly usually end up there, which is why they often end up as
tutors or helping in various medical or labor jobs.”

Pansy muttered something about uselessness between groans. “The other three
houses are Slytherin, Gryffindor, and Ravenclaw, which are characterized by
cunning, bravery, and desire to learn respectively.” The girl continued
quickly, waiving at the tent flap. “Your Tutor will explain things in greater
detail.”

Harry felt mildly curious. “So were actually going to school today?”

Dior nodded coolly, flipping her braids back. “Tutors will be walking around
the island, looking for the students assigned to them, so it would pay to
collect your things so we can hurry it up.”

“It’s pretty much too late to wash off though.” She continued, shooting a smug
grin at Pansy and Draco. “There was a huge crowd of people at the latrine when
I left.”

His sister snorted in disdain, and sniffed the armpit of her tunic, her aura no
longer feeling quite so hostile. “Why would we need to do that? We just bathed
yesterday.”

Draco slapped his forehead and Pansy just kept groaning into the blankets.

Then the black haired girl shot up, swiped the empty jug from Draco, and
instantly puked her guts out into it.

This time it was Violets turn to laugh. “Don’t you guys ever drink?” She mocked
the brunette and her betrothed, who Harry noticed was looking a little green
himself.

He could feel Dior make a slight tug on the other children’s cores. “Ok guys,
get your shit together. We need to get back to our tent and get ready.”

There was a loud honk, and George’s scaly saurian head popped from a pile of
blankets next to him. Harry decided that it was a sign to start packing.

§

“You keep that demon away from me!” Hemione hissed, as Tonks waved the finger
long monstrosity she had pulled from her satchel at her.

The older girl just whined at her. “But you need it!” The fuzzy thing in her
hands wiggled. “I went through so much trouble getting the cool looking ones.”
Tonks complained, shooting her a look of mock sadness.

“It’s an abomination, and I refuse to have that thing anywhere near my head!”
She had thought that she had been quite clear the first three times they had
gone over this, but apparently the curvy teen was even thicker than she
appeared.

The “thing” in question was a finger length tube of fuzz, with a little
horizontal fin on its tail. It crawled over Tonk’s palm on six spidery legs,
the claw ended proboscis that sprouted from its front end wiggled sinuously, as
its stalked eyes focused on her unnervingly.

It was also hideously yellow, with bright purple stripes, and was apparently
some sort of translating device.

“But the Tully just wants to love you!” The teen replied in her hideously
accented Greek.

Melody shot back. “But it’s so weird looking. Like everything that could be
wrong with an animal all bunched up into a fuzzy little package!” Her sister
bemoaned, staring at the fuzzy thin unhappily from where she was peeking out
from behind Hermione's back.

Which left Hermione with a challenge, she could either agreeing with her little
sister on something, or consent to letting Tully hang off her ear for the
foreseeable future.

After a moment of internal struggling, she gave in, a decision due not in small
part to her own curiosity. “Fine, I’ll take it.” She growled between clenched
teeth.

The friendly teen’s hair flipped through a multitude of colors, and she grinned
even wider. “Awesome!” She held out her hand and Hermione suddenly wondered if
she had made some terrible mistake. “Believe me, this will make your time much
easier, and if you keep it there long enough you should be able to learn
English.”

The little creature scuttled up her arm when she raised it to Tonks’s. Her
breath hitched and it stopped on her shoulder, seeming to sense her
nervousness. The clawed tentacle rose to her ear and a tiny voice, it spoke to
her. “Fear not, daughter of Heracles,” it said in perfect Greek, “I am quite
harmless. And for only a small serving of your great power, oh mighty one, I
will gladly offer to you my services as a translator.”

Her mind scrambled. The priests had told her only demons spoke to men in such
manner and while wearing such hideous forms, but they had also been the ones
who prescribed death to witches, and with all the evidence of that piling up
she really didn't have much of a choice anyways.

And so while the manner of her “great power” was something she was willing to
ignore for the moment, the fact that she needed an interpreter was not. The
memory of the day she had spent futilely trying to talk to those who only spoke
in heathen tongues, still fresh in her mind.

So while she wondered exactly how the creature had managed to learn as much as
it had in the few moments it had been displayed to her, she hesitantly brushed
her frizzy mane back and exposed her ear in silent permission.

The Tully didn’t hesitate, and quickly went wandering the rest of the way to
her head with light, ticklish steps.

The front pair of spiderlike legs hooked over the top of the corner of her ear,
the clawed mouth looping over it's legs to whisper into her head. “You may
return your fur to its usual place, mighty one.” It spoke, bracing the rest of
its legs and the flat of its tail against the back of her ear.

“Listen and you shall believe.” Tonks said, but not in the terribly accented
Greek that she had used before. This time she spoke in an unfamiliar language
that seemed to fit her accent better, and as she spoke, Tully whispered into
Hermione’s ear in Tonks’s voice.

The other girl grinned and she felt a tiny tingling, like when she had set the
straw ablaze, but infinitely less so. “See, I told you it works.”

Tonks slid another Tully onto Melody’s shoulder. Her sister flinched, but
accepted it anyway, mirroring her own actions earlier.

“Oh, also put this on for now.” She tossed a necklace of wooden beads into
Melody’s hands. “You’ll need to wear this for the next hour or so.” The girl
said flippantly, waving for them to follow her.

“Now we just need to find Miriam.”

“That’s a Moorish name.” Her sister commented, staring at the necklace for
several seconds before putting it on.

Tonks nodded absently, her eyes searching the rapidly emptying hold. “It’s a
Muslim usually.”

Hermione followed her gaze nervously, still fully aware of Tully perched
precariously behind her ear. “Well do you have more bright ideas?”

The older grinned, and waved her staff. “Accio Miriam Mohammed!” She shouted
and the glass ball atop the staff sparked.

A brown shape shot screaming from beneath a nearby pile of hay, and the unhappy
girl landed with a flop in a heap at Tonks’s feet. “Wotcher Miriam!” The older
girl said in the same chipper tone from earlier, before slipping seamlessly
into what Hermione assumed was Arabic. The teen’s speech to the terrified moor
was much the same as it had been for Hermione, though she was forced to speak
up when it came time to convince the waifish girl to accept her own Tully.

After the Arab girl had been corralled into their little group, Tonks palmed
her chin and gave them all a look of deep thought. “You lot need something to
wear.”

Hermione growled at her, feeling her teeth grind together and shaking her
fists, making Miriam flinch away from her. “You’re just realizing that now!”
She resisted the urge to pull her hair out in frustration.

“Well it’s not that big a deal, your gonna have em disappear later anyways" the
teen said idly. Her hair turned tannish as she spun her staff absently, so that
the glass beads on it clinked. “Alright, black for the firsties and red for the
maid.” Her staff flashed again, and Hermione suddenly found herself wearing a
thin black robe.

There was a yelp from behind her, and she turned to see that her sister had
been garbed in a simple light red tabard, held in place by a black belt. “It’s
so breezy!” Melody complained, groping the loose belt tighter, as her knees
knocked nervously. “What if the boys see me like this?” She asked Tonks, in a
slightly panicked voice.

Tonks seemed unperturbed. “So what about it? There’s been boys’ glancing at
your bits all day already.”

Melody made a panicked chirp, hopping up and down apprehensively, and clutching
her new tabard. “WHY?” She hissed out, running her hands through her hair.

Hermione decided that she could go back to ignoring the younger girl in that
exact moment, as the events of the past several minutes caught up to her
frazzled mind.

“Wait a minute, how in God’s name did you do that?”

Tonks looked unperturbed. “Gonna need you to be a little more specific there.”
Her hair rapidly flashed through a variety of colors. “You mean this?” The tall
teen asked with an amused grin.

She didn’t think the blatant violation of nature was funny. “I was going to ask
about that second, but please explain both.”

The curvy teen shrugged, straightening her robes and motioning for them to
follow her. “Well I just used a transfiguration spell to make your clothes from
the straw. Which reminds me, we'll go to buy you guys some real clothes later.”

She continued. “As for the color trick, stuff like that just sort of happens to
people, especially those from older or more fay families. Usually it’s the
result of a few too many botched rituals, or of prolonged exposure to certain
magical artifacts or ingredients” Hermione found herself listening with
interest, as the older girl shrugged, and they stepped up the stairs out of the
ships hold. She shielded her eyes from the sunlight, and used her free arm to
drag Melody along behind her.

“So the hair thing is hereditary?” She asked in curiosity, taking in the ship
that had been her prison for the past day or so. It was a very wide galley, of
a very uncertain quality, and she knew instantly that she would have never
stepped foot on it willingly under normal circumstances.

Tonks nodded, shepherding Miriam out onto the ship’s deck. “In the sense that
screwing up certain spells and potions or using certain magics carries the risk
of leaving you and your descendants’ permanently screwed up.” She gave Hermione
a knowing look. “That means don’t do anything without consulting either me or
Penny first!” She finished unpersuasively. Hermione found she would have been
more willing to believe her if she hadn’t been grinning quite so happily.
Melody chose that moment to renter the conversation. “Who’s Penny, is she
related to the scary lady?” She asked, gripping her chin in panic.

Momentarily confusion passed across the other girls face, her hair flashing
colors again before Hermione clarified. “She means Minerva.”

“Oh,” the other girl gave her a slightly shocked look, “You’ve already met
Professor McGonagall?”

“That woman is a teacher?” Hermione found her mouth running before she had
formulated a proper response. She blamed the memory of such an imposing matron
dressed in the armor of the Varangian guard. Even though she had seen her in
the ornate robes more recently, it still didn’t really mesh in her mind that
the stern elder would turn out to be a teacher.

Tonks nodded gleefully, pulling them towards the rickety looking gangplank.
“She’s the schools Transfiguration Mistress and the Head of the Gryffindor
House.”

Her mood soured at the memory. “Did you know she moonlights as a guardsman in
Constantinople?” She said with a bit more venom than she intended.

The attractive teen seemed to understand the source of her sour mood. “I’ll be
honest, I didn’t. But it doesn’t surprise me, lots of older wizards do things
like that.” She helped them downthe gangplank, glancing at it suspiciously for
a moment before continuing. “And Penny is my second in command. She’s the one
you’ll supposed to be talking to about bonds and stuff like that.” She ruffled
Melody’s hair affectionately as the little girl nearly fell into the water.

Then her eyes swept the crowd. “And she isn’t here.” Tonks gripped, putting her
hands on her flared hips in annoyance.

“Hey Percy, where’s Penny?” The shape-shifter shouted at a nearby redheaded
teen, herding a trio of Muslim girls.

He gave her a dismissive look, stiffly straightening his white and blue robes.
“How should I know?” He shouted back, in what sounded like carefully practiced
arrogance.

Hermione decided just to watch the shots fly. “Come on Percy, I know that you
know where she is. Can’t you do me a single favor?” The teen whined at the
shorted lad.

The redhead snorted at them smugly, and jabbed his finger at the sea of white
tents that covered the landscape before them. “She’s probably off doing your
job for you.”

Tonks grinned, using her superior height to literally look down on the other
teen. “Thanks a bunch Weasley.”

Hermione felt a sensation, like a deep ocean tide swept with kelp and silt, as
the older girl gave them a manic grin. “Alright, so the first order of business
for our as yet unnamed party… is to locate the rest of the party!” She shouted
at them, dragging their trio past the snobbish boy and towards the tents.

§

Thirty minutes later and Violet was still pouting childishly.

Harry had decided that it was a problem that was best solved after they were no
longer in public. It wasn’t really a pressing issue anymore anyway, as Draco,
Pansy, and Dior seemed content to ignore his sister frowning at everyone as
they tramped the path down the hill towards their tent.

“Just listen for someone calling our names.” Pansy informed him, while Draco
slipped in a patch of mud from the night before, nearly pulling Dior down with
him as he narrowly avoided face planting down the hill.

Harry nodded in acceptance, while the girl started fawning over the blonde boy
again, Dior just rolling her eyes at their antics. “So… Any more information we
need to know in a timely manner?” He probed the blonde.

Dior just glanced at him with wryly grin, miming massaging her throat with her
free hand when her sibling wasn't looking. Draco spoke up in her place though.
“Just don’t do anything stupid and you should be fine.”

The muscular boys from earlier emerged from a nearby tent, complete with
already packed sacks slung over their backs. The first one, Goyle if Harry
remembered correctly, gave Draco a salute. “We’ve already got everything packed
boss.” The heavyset boy said.

Harry thought to comment, but was distracted by a burst of emotions from
nearby. They all turned to see Violet on her butt, with another redheaded girl
in the same position on the ground opposite of her.

The taller, thinner redhead stood up uncertainly, rubbing her forehead and
leaning on a plain-looking glaive. “YOU BITCH!” Violet leapt from the ground
already angry, her hair crackling with flames of accidental magic. She ripped
her falcata from the sheath she had earlier switched to her hip, jabbing it;s
bronze curve menacingly at the taller girl. “Try using your eyes when you
walk!” His sister growled out, her temper flaring even larger.

“Oh, shit.” Draco and Dior said under their breath in sync. While Pansy
literally hissed like a snake.

Dior grabbed his arm, as Harry drew his own sword, and Goyle and Crabbe pulled
a pair of daggers seemingly from thin air. “Watch your back, Weasley’s travel
in packs.” Goyle whispered down to him, eyes shifting cautiously.

Draco chuckled hysterically as the other girl flipped her single, long, red
braid across her bony shoulder, and lazily flipped her glaive into an
overhanded grip, spitting on Violets feet in challenge. “How many times a day
does this happen to you on average Potter.” He ground out sarcastically as
another redhead, a gawky, rough-faced boy this time, ran around the edge of a
nearby tent and started shouting at them.

“Who’s calling my sister a bitch?” He yelled at them, suddenly his eyes locked
with Draco’s and Harry could feel that warm fuzzy feeling that came with mutual
hate sparking though the air. “Malfoy!” He jabbed his finger at the blonde
pair.

“Well, is it isn’t the weasels.” Draco sneered, calmly waving Goyle out of his
way. “You’ll have to forgive me Ronald, I was doubtful your family would even
be able to afford send you.” The effeminate young blonde mocked the newcomer.

Harry gave Draco a raised eyebrow, ignoring Violet and the other Weasley
circling each other as they sized each other up. “Money issues?”

Dior snorted. “The Weasleys and Prewets are both dirt poor, and without a real
noteworthy accomplishment for longer than my family’s been in existence.” She
replied to him quietly, motioning subtly for him to pull Pansy behind him.

“Arrgg!” The tall redhead screamed, taking a wild swing with her glaive, which
Violet blocked, only for the other girl to slid the length of her spear down
her sword, breaking the weapon lock in a messy tackle that left them both
rolling in the mud and exchanging sloppy punches.

Ronald looked absolutely furious at that. But as the redhead glanced at Violet
and the other girl locked wrestling in even combat, then to the other five of
them, he seemed to realize he was totally unarmed, and in a hopeless situation.

A small crowd of onlookers had gathered around them, and they cheered the boy
on to what probably would have been an embarrassingly one-sided loss, at the
very least. Fortunately for Ron’s health, they were interrupted before anyone
could escalate the situation further.

Violet’s body actually leapt into the air, hovering in place for a moment as
she struggled in confusion. “Hey, what gives?” She asked wiggling in the air
for a moment before a bolt of light hit her, and her sword went flipping from
her grip. “Put me down!” His twin shouted.

A bored voice replied. “Not likely, squirt.” The tallish brown-haired speaker,
dressed in crisp blue robes, walked from around the same tent Ron had popped
from behind. She rubbed the bridge of her nose in annoyance, and flicked the
wand she held, making the mud go shooting off of Violet and her opponent.

Draco eyed the older girl, in mock submissiveness, his core slithering as oily
as Harry had ever felt. “Are we breaking any rules, ma’am?” He asked, sucking
up hard.

She gave him a tightlipped look, clearly not buying the blondes acting. “Not
yet, but I’m sure you lot would have managed, given enough time.” She flicked
her wand again, this time depositing the struggling Violet Harry’s feet. “At
any rate, I will not have you buggering up my first year of chaperoning.” Her
eyebrow rose at the nine of them still in the clearing, the crowd having fled
at the first sign of trouble. “You two are Malfoys I take it?”

Draco strutted at her recognition. “I see our family’s reputation precedes us.”
He answered, grinning at her.

The primly dressed brunette snorted at that. “It’s mostly the hair. That would
make the three of you Goyle, Crabbe, and… Pansy if I’m remembering the briefing
correctly.”

Then she turned and glared at the assembled redheads, confusion spreading
across her slender face. “It is odd though, I was only told about two from the
Arthur’s family.”

Violet snot up in indignation, colorful sparks of flame shooting from her
frazzled hair. “Oi, I’m not a bloody weasel!” his sister objected loudly,
sounding offended, and mimicking Draco’s earlier insult. “My hair is clearly a
much brighter red, and curls are nicer than straight anyway, and I have more
freckl-”

“You take that back you curly little shit.” The glaive wielding girl shouted in
inturruption of her rant, nimbly hopping back up.

“Who you calling little, you skinny fu-!” Harry felt her magic flash, and
suddenly there was a meaty smack, and his twin dropped like a rock with her
sword clattering onto the ground beside her unconscious form.

There was a flash of light, and the Glaive wielder slumped down as well. “That
would be why you don’t try to summon something you can’t see.” The prim teen
commented, her wand pointing at the unconscious Weasley, while she clapped Ron
on the shoulder warningly.

The redhead just gulped in reaction. “I’m Penny Clearwater, by the way.” She
said, casually. “And you would be?” She gave Harry a meaningful look, and her
felt her caressing his core with hers, gently testing at his connection to
Violet.

“I’m Harry Potter, and this is my twin sister Violet.” He put his arms
underneath her shoulders, as he tried lifting her up.

Penny just chuckled, waving her hand, and Harry felt his sister's form lighten
until she floated free from his grasp. “Ok, that’s the Potters, Weasleys, and
Malfoys and company. I’m already like a third of the way done…” Harry quickly
gathered up their stuff as she finished talking.

“I’m already a third of the way done.” She repeated, suddenly frowning.
“Provided Tonks is doing her job.”

§

Less than thirty minutes of freedom and the novelty had already begun to wear
thin. Hermione found the soft, muddy ground was an unpleasant sensation on her
bare feet, it had clearly been raining recently and the softness left her steps
uncertain. It didn’t help that she was unsure if Tonks would be able to provide
her with any help, the young woman had been so focused on dragging them from
one end of the miserable island to the other, growing there little group by
plucking children from the crowed every so often.

They still hadn’t found Penny though.

It wasn’t that she was jealous of the other youths, which streamed between the
little white tents. The island was literally swarming with them, and the other
brightly robed chaperones.

But they all had the shoes she lacked, well most of them did. Every so often
she would see one of the children from the ships hold, and they were usually
barefoot.

Actually, she decided that the fact that some of them did have shoes annoyed
her.

“Where are we going?” She asked Tonks finally, trying to keep the frustration
from her voice, as she nearly slipped into the mud for the fifth time in as
many minutes.

The older teen seemed blind to her irritation, and the emotions of the fifteen
odd followers that had accumulated. “I figure since we haven’t seen Penny yet,
and were missing about twelve other kids, that she’s probably somewhere nearby
the bridge.” The teen stated in a cheerful certainty, her hair turning a
brilliant shade of blue.

“The bridge to where?” Melody chose to interrupt them with another one of her
worthless questions.

The girl grinned over at her little sister mysteriously, her hair turning as
yellow as her robes. “You’ll know it when you see it, trust me.”

And with that unclear non-answer, they reached what Hermione figured was the
islands southern edge, where a small wooden glen sat close to the sea.

“PENNY!” The teen shouted happily at the crowd, prompting another, younger
brown-haired teen with a very straight-laced appearance to turn back towards
her.

The brown haired girl’s hands shot to her thinner hips. “And where in Astarte’s
name have you been?” She growled at Tonks, looking appropriately annoyed.

Tonks just laughed good-naturedly, scratching bashfully at her shoulder length
hair as it flashed through several colors. “I was looking for you of course.”

Hermione zoned the rest of the younger teens sniping out. Choosing instead to
take in the other children that had been clustered around the blue robed teen,
mostly to see if they looked as worthless as the ones Tonks had already
collected.

They didn’t look like much either, just another random collection of
barbarians, though she did notice to her interest that several were armed and
eyeing each other rather warily.

“Melody, at least try to keep up.” She chided her sister, as she noticed that
the smaller girl had been trailing behind, and the teens lead their two groups
to merge under a massive pair trees of a variety she didn’t recognize.

When she thought about it, Hermione actually found the fact that she couldn’t
recognize it mildly disturbing in itself.

Tonks stood tall above everyone, waving her staff, and making it shoot colorful
pricks of light. “All right everyone, gather in a circle. It’s time to learn
your first lesson.” Her eager voice broke over the whispering children.

She grinned down at them, her hair settling on an intense purple color. “That’s
right folks; your first assignment will be before you even get to set a single
foot in Hogwarts.” The curvy teen continued by pointing at them happily, her
voice taking the tone of a merchant selling something.

Penny sat cross-legged in the grass, motioning firmly for everyone else to do
the same. “Your first lesson will be on the single most important aspect of
being a wizard.”

She waved her hand at them and it emitted several tiny, human shaped, smoke
wisps. “Listen to me kids, and I want you mark my words well. For now that now
that you are mages, your word will become your bond.” She said loudly, her face
a mask of seriousness. “If you make a poorly spoken statement or preform an
action without thinking, it can easily bind you for the rest of your life.”
There were gasps from the circle of children, but Hermione noticed that may of
them seemed unsurprised by the revelation, probably those from wizarding
families.
But Penny continued, unperturbed by the gasping. “But it is these very bonds
that are what holds our civilization together. Because without them, you could
trust no one, not even yourself.” She gave them a rather dark look. “For as
we'll soon demonstrate, it is a simple matter for mages to ensnare the senses,
or to assume forms that are not their own.”

“So the act you all will need preform before you are allowed to cross the
bridge will be exactly that, a bond!” The smoky figures that hovered above her
palm stretched in the breeze, until there were trails of smoke connecting them.
“It will be a bond for your own safety.” She gestured to herself and Tonks.
“You all will  create an apprentice bond… with just Tonks for today.” A
thousand questions exploded in Hermione’s mind and she opened her mouth to
speak, but was immediately silenced by what happened next.

The younger of the two teens glanced at Melody, and those questions died on her
lips. “But first, we have another bond that needs to be performed.” She felt a
grassy sort of sensation burst in her chest, which seemed to almost be
emanating from the older girl. “You two come sit over here.” Penny waved at
her, and Tonks nodded down at her to comply.

Hermione’s body flushed at the sudden attention, and the brown-haired teen
smiled, she felt like she was going to pass out from embarrassment. Everyone
was watching them, their eyes on them, as she and her little sister stumbled
over to the older brunette.

“What’s’ your name?” Penny questioned her coolly.

“Hermione…” She replied, her brain reacting without her input, “from the
merchant family of Granger, from the city of Constantinople.” The grassy
sensation receded as she finished the statement.

The older girl gave her an amused look, threading her fingers into Melody’s
brown hair as she pulled the girl down to lay in the grass between them.
“You’re far from home, aren’t you Christian? And this one, she is your younger
sister correct?”

Hermione swallowed thickly, still keenly aware of everyone’s eyes on her, as
she nodded in affirmation. “Yes ma’am, her name is Melody.”

“Your remember a little flattery will get you far. Too many forget that.” She
smirked at her. “Alright, now I want you to hold her down like this.” She
guided Hermione's arm closer, and slid her hand into her younger sisters thin
neck. “More firmly Hermione, don’t be afraid to hurt her, this will only take a
moment.”

She stared into her little sister’s wide, panicked eyes as she pressed down her
weight on her slender throat, feeling the muscles working frantically for air
as the eight-year old's face bloomed with intimidation. “Alright, I want you to
press into her with your core, very gently as you repeat after me.”

Penny uttered a string of nonsense words, and she found herself repeating it
almost unconsciously, slightly fearful of what might happen if she refused.
There was a buzzing sensation in her arm, similar to what she had felt in the
ships hold, and her hand crackled visibly. Melody began to struggle immediately
as the runes carved into the wooden beaded necklace began to smoke, and her
hand shot back from her sisters neck. Fearful, despite the teen’s instruction,
that she had hurt her.

The older girl merely smiled at her knowingly, and gently stroked Melody’s neck
in a manner that left Hermione suddenly feeling irrationally territorial, while
her younger sister took in deep shuddering breaths of air.

She trailed her nail down and drew Hermione's eyes to a small black mark that
had appeared in the very center of her younger sister’s throat. Nothing more
than a thin triangle, with five dots of unmarked skin that ran down its length.

Penny shared a pleased smile with Hermione. “That was very good for your first
attempt.” She ran her finger down the black glyph again. “Congrats, you've
claimed what's yours Hermione... this mark on her neck, this is your sigil, and
it shows to the entire world that this child is now your servant.”

The words blasted the thoughts from her mind.

But the teen turned back to the crowed, seemingly unconcerned by her numbness.
“I hope you all were paying close attention! This is a ritual that you will
likely not have another chance to learn again until your second year.” She
chided them, but it seemed unnecessary, they were all still watching with rapt
attention.

Tonks clapped. “Alright, everyone join hands, everyone in a circle!” She
shouted excitedly, while Hermione was still busy trying to digest the events of
the last thirty seconds. Penny slid her hands under Melody’s shoulders, pulling
her into the teen's lap.

“Join the circle Hermione; she’ll still be waiting when you’re done.” The older
brunette directed gently, and she felt the grassy sensation again.

She found herself sliding back, taking the hands of a boy with a round face and
black hair, and a pig-tailed blonde with a very wide smile. Tonks joined the
circle last, and when she did there was instantly a crackle of energy down both
of her arms. The entire circle jerked their hands apart in shock, but somehow
she sensed that there wasn’t a total loss of connection.

She could feel what she could only describe as, Tonks’s essence, a deep warm
dampness that didn’t fade, but directed her to the older girl unfailingly.

“Good, I think I have everyone connected.” There was a light pulse of that wet
sensation, and she dully realized the older girl was probing them with her
magic. Her mind fizzled with uncertain emotions, as she realized that she now
had a magical connection to the curvy teen too. She examined her hands
apprehensively, but found that they were curiously unblemished.

“There won’t be any visible marks; this bond wasn’t nearly that powerful. It’s
just an apprentice bond after all.” The older teen smiled at them, while Penny
lay a still stunned Melody down and stood up.

“Now everyone close your eyes, and don’t open them until I say so.” The
brunette instructed them sternly.

Hermione found herself following the instructions, again without prompting. Her
mind felt beyond exhausted, her nerves fraying further with every second. Then
she heard Penny tell her to open her eyes.

She could hear people gasping in shock, but the sight barely even registered.
That there was somehow now two Penny’s wasn’t even worth her concerns, because
she could easily feel which was really Tonks.

How the other girl had managed to change her entire appearance so rapidly was
beyond her ability to care about at that moment. She just wanted to pull Melody
into a tight hug beneath the shade of one of the nearby trees and sleep
forever.

But the world conspired against her as their group stood up, and started
towards an odd pair of nearby trees, whose branches intertwined unusually in a
sort of natural arch. The grassy sensation returned again as she stood, and
this time it brought a curious moisture with it, and she found herself dragging
a barely responsive Melody by the arm. Jabbing her younger sister with that
strange electric sensation from earlier, whenever the eight-year old needed a
little extra prompting.

A voice in her head spoke out dimly that the sight of it wasn’t right, that air
between the trees was wrong, because it was rippled and bent strangely and was
filled with odd bubbles and curious motes of colored light.

That voice in the back of her head cried out in fear as those passing between
the trees vanished from her sight in a burst of tiny bubbles. It clawed at her
exhausted psyche, telling her that if she passed through the trees there would
be no going back, that she would be betraying her principles as a God fearing
Christian if she went through those trees.

But wasn’t that the point? It wasn’t like she could go back to Byzantium, and
she had somehow just been unwittingly walked through the enslavement of her
eight-year old sister.

She was already in too deep to go back.

And hadn’t she decided earlier that she was going to beat this, that she would
overcome the challenges that were being placed in her way?

“Besides,” she thought to herself as her curiously lit up, “this will probably
be a great learning opportunity.”

The idea sparked something deep inside her, something that had always haunted
her. It was the familiar need to learn all that she didn’t know, the endless
search for understanding of that which was currently beyond her grasp.

A smile graced her tired lips as she passed through the threshold, dragging
Melody behind her. An effervescent froth ran over her skin and obscured her
vision for a second as she passed the thin film of stretched space, and
suddenly they were gone from that place.

And they were all standing behind Penny, and a returned to normal Tonks, in a
different wooded clearing. The two teens said nothing, simply smiling knowingly
and gesturing for them to follow the pair up a small inclined hill with a dual
look that was both mysterious and amused.

The path up the hill was steep, but well kept, and in only a moment they had
arrived at the very top. To where a ring of marble columns sat, crowning the
crest of the wooded hill.

Her eyes traced out instinctively between the trees as they walked to the far
end of the ring. Looking down across the distinctive pattern of the well-
maintained fields and orchards that blanketed the nearby landscape, separated
by their stone walls and little dirt paths, and still Hermione found her gaze
drawn further out.

And there, looming imposing and impossibly…in the far away distance was all
that Hermione Jean Granger did not know.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
--------------------------------------

And that’s chapter 4 finished.

Chapter 5 will probably be finished sometime in the next week of two, so I hope
you all are looking forward to it.

Sorry there wasn’t much action in this one, but they need to actually reach
Hogwarts at some point right?

As always, reviews, hate-mail or just ramblings are welcome. I’ll gladly take
on all challengers.
***** Everyone gets Naked *****
So begins chapter 5.
I just want to remind everyone that this is an AU fic. I’m trying to envisage a
mostly plausible state for the world to be in, if magic and such things
actually existed.

That means that first and foremost, technology will be very stunted and history
will likely be altered rather severely.

So yes, this story does take place in the modern era, just not in our modern
era.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
--------------------------------------
 
It had begun only a few days ago. The stars had begun to shine in an eerie
manner, a way that Itzamatul was sure he had never seen before.
 
He had just taken the long and dangerous expedition to the land of the
Tawantinsuyu.
 
It was a brutally long walk from his beloved city of Chichen Itza, to the lofty
capitol of the Incan people at Cuzco, and getting up there involved far more
stairs than his old bones had ever needed to see again, but the importance of
his work had ailed him whenever weariness had started to feel as though it
would crush his soul.
 
King Aapo had ordered him and the others of his order to perform an
astrological survey, in accordance with a variety of omens that had been
observed across their city, and in many of the neighboring city states.
 
And as much as it irked them all, the best place to observe the stars was in
the mountain homes of the Incans.
 
As such, he and several other astrologers of their city had been forced to
undertake a very long, and not to mention very uphill, journey to the
mountains.
 
And while the people of the Incan Federation had greeted them as warmly as
their bureaucracy loving hearts would allow, perhaps as interested in the
results of his scrying as King Aapo was himself, the mountain peak where the
observatory was located was still as cold a place as he had ever been.
 
But now it was not the frost or snow that chilled his old bones. No, it was the
patterns woven in the stars themselves which had sent icy fingers to clench at
his heart, through even the warmth of clothes that the natives had gifted them
with.
 
The stars spoke of nothing but evil. They told of a coming shadow that would
try to swallow the lands, and devour all that inhabited them.
 
But worst of all was the resemblance in their patterns, to certain stellar
charts he had glimpsed on the tablets his people had taken so long ago, when
they had emigrated from the now sunken continent of Mu.
 
“Tzacol, have we heard anything from the men of Tibet?” He asked one of the
messengers that had come with them, feeling suddenly curious about the land
that those across the seas that had once been called Leng before the cataclysms
that had ended the Hyperborian age.
 
The young man grimaced at the question. “I heard whispers in the courts before
we left. The Ming ambassadors spoke of ill omens that they themselves had heard
from the monks living on the plateau of the great mountains.” The young
messenger shrugged, making the feathers on his cape dance, while giving
Itzamatul an interested look.
 
“Why do you ask, have you corroborated those reports?” Tzacol asked him, the
bold you man ever intrusive. Itzamatul breathed deeply of the icy air, wishing
internally that he was forty years younger; he wasn’t going to last much longer
at this rate. “The stars speak of nothing but darkness Tzacol, of the coming of
a plague like no other.”
 
Tzacol’s ran a hand over his forehead in disbelief, is normally cocoa skin
turning as pale like the men from across the oceans from the shock. “Should we
sound the alarm?” He asked, his voice hushed with shock.
 
He nodded in consent, waving to the younger man. “Go, return to the king as
fast as your legs can carry you, and spread the word to every messenger you
meet along the way.” He fingered the cocoa leaves he had brought. “And when
you’re done with that, travel north and warn the Seven Cities of Cibola and
tell the messengers there to alert the Mound Builders in the north.”
 
The young man saluted and ran down the stairs of the observatory pyramid.
Another sigh from his left brought his attention to his colleague Yaotl, who
was still squinting at the stars. “I wonder how far reaching this omen has
already traveled.” He stroked his chin thoughtfully, and the wrinkles on his
brow deepened. “Do you think the Valusians could be wrangled from their holes
in K'n-yan, I would bet my left leg that they know more of this matter.” His
gnarled old friend gestured to the stars.
 
Itzamatul frowned, feeling old again at the mention of mankind’s enemies of
old. “Do you really think it wise to involve the Lizard-Men in this matter
Yaotl?”
 
His friend shrugged. “I’d almost prefer them; in the end they have more excuses
for their cruelty than the Nahua.”
 
That was their old argument, which his colleague would never let die. “The
Mexica will be warned regardless Yaotl, our treaties demand it.” He blew a
cloud of air, fogged by the cold. “We should head inside though; we can discuss
this in length once we are in front of a nice warm fire.”
 
The other man grinned at him, rubbing his cold hands together and he followed
Itzamatul towards the pyramids steps. “I can certainly agree to that.”
 
§
 
Minerva was back in his office and not for the first time that day either. It
was expected, this was the first day of the new term after all, but the routine
still made Dumbledore wonder if he had offended a deity at some earlier point
in his long life.
 
“Albus I know it’s been ten years, but I still can’t help myself but worry.”
The stern matron said, as she sat down on the chair and wrung her hands in
worry. “I mean, what if we did the wrong thing? This could easily turn into an
absolute disaster!” She waved at him in agitation.
 
He gave her his best calming smile, subtly gesturing to his newest batch of
lemon cakes. The fruits having been a gift from one of the faraway kingdoms
across the seas “And I’ll say it again Minerva. Every report I’ve gotten from
Hagrid over the years has been nothing but exemplary.”
 
She frowned at him. “That’s exactly what I’m worried about!” One of his
office’s many knickknacks chose that moment to start whistling quietly. “I know
we all trust him, but was he really the best to handle this? Remus, or Arthur
would have been happy to help check up on the twins, even Lucius offered.” She
said in an exasperated tone.
 
“So did Sirius, if I recall…” He countered casually, letting the sentence trail
off.
 
Minerva growled. “And I respectfully pointed out that he would make a terrible
father figure, and so did Lily for that matter, he has far too little
responsibility for such a task.”
 
There was a knocking at his offices door. “Come in!” She shouted instinctively.
 
A blonde boy, in the long, red and green tabard of an on-duty castle servant,
walked in carrying a tray of tea. “Ah, thank you Herman, right on time as
always.” Albus smiled at the lad’s good timing.
 
The young man smirked back him knowingly, and nodded politely to a scowling
Minerva as he set down the tray. “Of course my Lord, will you be in need of
anything else?”
 
Minerva gave him an annoyed look, and Dumbledore figured he would skip the
biscuits today. “That will be all for now Herman, thank you.” He gave the lad a
wink.
 
The cherry-blonde nodded again, then boy bowed and swiftly made his exit.
 
McGonagall grabbed her cup, clearly annoyed at being interrupted. “Must you
order tea every time I come to speak to you about something?” She questioned
him.
 
“Why not Minerva, you always seem to have a cup.” He gave her a small smile and
she rolled her eyes.
 
“I’m still worried Albus.” She started back down that well-trodden road.
 
So he cut her off. “As you have noted many, many times, but let’s talk about
something more relevant. How does our next crop of students look?” He asked,
using a burst of magic to subtly swipe a lemon cake from his tray.
 
She sipped her tea before replying. “From what I have seen and heard, there are
a good number of rather promising individuals this year.”
 
“So… if you’ve been checking then why haven’t you assuaged your own conscious
and checked on the twins? Hargid brought them to the Gateway Island late
yesterday…” He asked her.
 
She swore into her tea, and gave him a rather severe glare. “And I wasn’t
informed of this why?” She set her cup down, waiving her hands in emphasis.
“For the love of… I was there just a few hours ago Albus!”
 
He just shrugged in response, sipping his own mint tea. “News travels fast; I
would have thought that you knew already.” He said, and they both ignored a
series of thunderous roars echo from the balcony as a pair of dragons flew past
his tower. He pinged the wards, identifying the culprits as the oldest set of
Weasley twins. He would have to chastise them later.
 
She ground her teeth at him, her magic crackling. “I’ve spent the past week
hopping across the Mediterranean.”
 
“Speaking of which, how was the voyage from Biscay?” He asked, noting the way
some of the knickknacks on his shelves had started to vibrate, and trying to
rein in her temper before something exploded.
 
Minerva harrumphed at him. “Aside from one of the girls nearly setting the ship
on fire, it was entirely uneventful.”
 
“And the French know nothing?” He asked, always wary of the nation that had
been fierce enemies of his own for more than nine centuries.
 
“I hardly think they care right now Albus, they’ve been too busy trying to
secure an alliance with Kiev to be monitoring the seas.” The tablet on his desk
let out a series of clicking sounds.
 
He flipped it open, and carefully read the message that wrote itself in the
wax. “It appears that we are needed in the Great Hall.”
 
“Peeves?”
 
He sighed, and stood from the welcoming comfort of his throne-like chair.
“Apparently he’s harassing the cooks, and he set Lucius’s hair ablaze yet
again…”
 
Minerva snorted, as she made to follow him out of the office. “Maybe if he had
paid more attention to his classes than he did to his hair when he was a
student, he wouldn’t find himself in these positions so often.”
 
§
 
Hermione fell to her knees as her world swam.
 
The very sight was like a spike being driven into her head. Everything about
what she saw had to be a lie, and she needed it to be a lie, because there was
absolutely no way that what she could be seeing could be real.
 
Past the hill she was kneeling on, past the miles of walled roads and
checkerboard fields, was a wall.
 
Actually it was six walls, each taller than the last, and large enough to be
covered in windows and flowered trellises. Topped with gardens and buildings in
every style she had ever seen.
 
And in the center of it all was a citadel unlike anything she had ever imagined
possible. It towered towards the sky, reaching up to brush at the clouds.
 
“How…” She heard herself ask, sounding like she was speaking into a tunnel, and
she noticed she was waving her arms at it without any conscious thought.
 
Tonks’s voice was the one to reply, coming from somewhere unseen. “How…?” The
older teen echoed, her voice tinged by no small amount of amusement.
 
Rage burst back into her weary mind, “How is that even practical?” She found
herself back on her feet, furiously jabbing her finger in the teens general
direction, while hers still vision swam. “That citadel must be almost a mile
tall!” She waved at the abomination of wood and stone. “Forget practical, how
is that even possible.”
 
“Magic!” The older girl grinned. “And the exact height varies depending on the
castles mood.”
 
Melody’s dazed voice piped in from somewhere behind them. “That still doesn’t
explain anything!”
 
“Why would you even need a building this-” Her sentence was cutoff midway, as
the architecture in the distance seemed to blend together, the arrangement of
the buildings and their features swirling, and her legs gave out due to the
sudden vertigo.
 
Strong arms pulled her up from the ground, and her head lolled back into a pair
of generous breasts. “Well Hogwarts was built to be the center of Avalon, the
heart of the wizarding civilization for the Anglo-Saxons, Picts, Celts, Fins
and the Nords. “The other girl’s hands slid, sensually under her armpits and
down her waist, and Hermione shivered as her fingers toying with her clothed
bellybutton. “Besides, it needs to be big; nearly twenty thousand people live
here from all across the world. There are the students, retainers and servants,
on top of the staff and their affiliates. So it’s a very big place, and it’s
all very complicated.”
 
She pulled Hermione to her feet, and disengaged her arms. “That’s why you guys
have me and Penny to help you out.” The wet feeling came back, pressuring her
somewhere inside her chest, as the purple-haired teen grinned down at her
affectionately. “If you ever need something, we’re the two people you can
always ask.”
 
Then the teen yawned, and pulled her towards the stone stairway which led down
from the hill they were stood on, out across the fields and towards the castle.
“And speaking of people, we need to get off this hill. The next group of
students will be here any minute, and it’s a long walk to the castle.” The
bubbly young woman gave Hermione a teasing look, waving for her group to
follow.
 
“If you’re having balance issues, try not staring directly at the castle.”
Penny shouted from the back of the group, as started down the stone stairway on
the front of the hill.
 
As it turned out, the walk to the castle took a lot less time than she had
thought it would. It even managed to be relatively pleasant, provided she kept
her eyes on the immediate surroundings. She couldn’t seem to shake the vertigo
that seemed to hit her every time she tried to look at the ever-shifting façade
of the castle proper.
 
Though she was spared the humiliation of being the only one affected. As a
nearby scraggly redhead in a cheap tunic spent an inordinate amount of time
leaning on a nearby black-haired boy, in identical dress, and vomiting into the
roads cobblestone.
 
Though, like Hermione herself, once the redhead had emptied her stomach and she
got used to not looking up the girl seemed to get into their pleasant walk as
well.
 
The sun was warm, but not hot. The breeze was cool and gentle, blowing the tall
wheat into shimmering golden waves, which they could see rippling every time
they crested a hill on the rolling landscape.
 
Even the people they met on the way were no more annoying than those a person
might meet alongside any road in Byzantium.
 
Most of them were young, dressed in robes or tunics of several different colors
and styles, and they seemed to be finishing whatever idle tasks they had been
doing before they had arrived. A handful of the youngest ones were dressed as
Melody was, in simple red tabards, and they seemed to be aiding what she
assumed were other students by their more ornate robes, who seemed to be busy
overseeing the cleanup of the fields.
 
A few of the people they passed even waved at them, but most seemed distracted
with their hurried tasks. It made an odd sight, but it was one she was
relatively comfortable with. She could easily pretend they were on a road in
some weird part of Hellas.
 
It was an illusion of normality that she found was increasingly hard to keep up
as their walk to the outer wall went on thought, as every few minutes something
fantastic happened. A griffon would swoop from the sky or a sliver of queer
light would dart at someone across the fields, it constantly broke her
immersion.
 
And of course she couldn’t look up in the direction they were walking either.
 
So she simply decided to look at the other studentsin her group instead.
Keeping her vision far away from Tonks’s swaying butt. The older teen was
walking almost right in front of her, and though she ,aking an effort to appear
as though she was acting professionally, the shapely teen was clearly still
teasing her. Hermione hadn’t forgotten how she had pulled her up from the fall
on the hill either, at the way the older girl’s hands had casually roamed
across the front of her robe, groping the entire way.
 
The thought made her shiver in a manner she wasn’t entirely sure she was
comfortable with. So she turned her gaze away, but she found that focusing on
the other children wasn’t all that much better. While she watched, the
previously vomiting red-head whistled and tannish thin shape leapt from the
wheat over the stone dividing wall . It had nearly put her back into shock when
the speedy shape slid to a stop, revealing it to be a dragon of some sort, a
sleek but wingless creature with a runners build. It eyed the collective
children warily as it slid to a stop and gave the redhead a musical hoot.
 
Hermione had pressed her face across her eyes at that, deciding to zone the
rest of the walk out. Merely reviewing what she already knew about the
situation in her head, and dragging Melody behind her with little sparking
prompts across their newly formed connection.
 
A connection that was just another thing she planned to add to the growing list
of subjects she had settled on ignoring for as long as was humanly possible.
 
Then before she realized what had happened, she had idly walked herself face
first into the small of Tonk’s back, and they were at the base of the outer
wall.
 
The older teen smirked down at her, before casting her gaze across the other
children. “Listen up you little shits!” She jibed them in a playful tone. “We
have just two hours to get you all ready for the welcoming feast!”
 
“Which means we'll acquiring the goods you will need for you tenure here as
students here in a timely manner.” Penny snapped, in a more professional tenor
than her companion. "That means no horsing around until at least after the
feast!" Then the chestnut-haired teen drew a slender metal wand from her robe,
and tapped a simple pattern on the wall. This caused the stones to go sliding
out of the way in an instant, receding until a smallish doorway had been
revealed in the massive wall.
 
“There are a number of ways to get past the sixth tier wall, and this is one we
will be reviewing later tonight, so I hope you were paying attention.” She
waved her arm, her robe billowing towards the new doorway, and they streamed
inside.
 
Or not, as it turned out. For as soon as she was past the doorway she realized
that they had not been let inside, but instead they had somehow had been
transported to the top of the huge wall.
 
Her vertigo returned immediately as she was forced to look at her surroundings
for a moment. But she relaxed slightly as closer up the effect was not nearly
as pronounced, the castles architecture and other featurees seemed to stay in
proper order when they were up-close. With her nausea fading with every breath,
Hermione took a look at the top of the outer wall. The first thing she noticed
was that it was far wider than she thought practical, at least five hundred
feet thick, and she saw that was covered in lavish gardens, pavilions and
bubbling fountains. Other children and teens, in various states of dress, or
undress, were wandering everywhere. Some lolling around and reading beneath the
shade of blooming trees, or smoking from hookahs in small groups beneath the
pavilions. Most of them however, seemed to have been infected by the same
hectic verve that had been present in the fields, and they went dashing back
and forth preforming a variety of barely guessable tasks.
 
Then the warm summer breeze swept past them and the leaves of the trees roared,
Tonks and Penny lead them across the gardens grinning at the wonder-filled
gazes that were on clear on their charges young faces, and Hermione had a
surprising moment when she inhaled the fragrance of the flowers and realized
that she had suddenly actually become quite comfortable for a moment.
 
It was an unexpected feeling. One that had been prompted by an odd sensation of
what she could almost describe as safety, but not quite. Belonging maybe?
 
She didn’t know.
 
So Hermione did what she always did when she didn’t know something. She brushed
her long frizzy mane out of her eyes, and sought answers.
 
She decided to ask one of the students around her instead of Tonks or Penny,
and a pair of redheads walking in idle conversation nearby looked promising.
 
“Excuse me,” she asked quietly, in the unfamiliar language that her Tully
whispered into her ear, to the young lad, “would either of you know where we
are going?” She gestured to the pair of conversing teens leading their group
across the span of the garden topped wall.
 
They both scowled at her question, looking annoyed. “To a shop…” the tall girl
hissed, “to buy our things.” She spun a cheap looking glaive in a threatening
manner, and shot a dirty look at Hermione and her little sister.
 
'Rude,' she thought to herself privately, and Hermione broke off the attempted
conversation by giving an arrogant snort, pulling Melody behind her in the same
motion. She wasn’t all that good at dealing with people, but even she knew
better than to antagonize a person with a weapon to their face. That didn’t
mean she was going to let the other girl think she had won this though.
 
She spun on her heel, turning to a round faced boy who seemed to be looking
curiously at a pretty teen, arguing with herself or with something Hermione
couldn't see. “Excuse me,” she asked, loud enough that she knew that the pair
now trailing behind her would be able to hear clearly, “you wouldn’t happen to
know what it is specifically we are going to buy would you, or how we will need
to pay for said specifics?”
 
The slightly pudgy boy blushed, glancing past her shoulder to the pair who were
now obviously glaring at him. “W-well,” he stammered nervously, “I know we’ll
be buying clothes and staffs and maybe other stuff today.” He shrugged
helplessly. “I don’t think we have to pay for it right now though.”
 
He gave her a tentatively inquisitive look as they continued to follow the
other children past a wooden pavilion. “You'r accent... you aren't from around
here are you?” He stated obviously. “Would you be a... Helen perhaps?”
 
She felt her lips quirk up, at both his question and the firm attention to
detail that it implied. “We were born in Constantinople,” She gestured grandly
to herself and Melody, “the capitol of the Byzantine Empire.” She said proudly.
 
“I’m Melody!” Her little sister shouted, popping into the conversation happily.
“And that’s my big sis Hermione!”
 
Hermione felt her eyes roll at the interruption, though more in amusement this
time than anything else.
 
The boy nodded back shyly. “I’m-”
 
“Hey Neville!” The redheaded boy from before cut in. “Weren’t you supposed to
be looking for Trevor?” The muscled lad asked in an annoyed fashion.
 
Neville, for his part smiled shyly, reaching into his robe to pull out a large
and oddly colored frog. “I found him earlier Ron.” The amphibian croaked in
annoyance, struggling to escape its master’s grasp. “I had to wander around a
bit, but I found someone who knew the summoning spell.” He finished happily.
 
She turned to see the redheads blinking owlishly in shock at Neville’s sudden
cheerfulness. “If you two think you’re so important as to butt into our
conversation, why don’t you demonstrate some of your magic for us?” She
challenged the redheads. “Show us why you think you’re so eminent, because it
can’t be your wealth.” She nosed at their rather cheap looking clothes, feeling
her lips quirk in amusement as they both sputtered in indignation.
 
“You don’t look so wealthy yourself Greek.” The other girl growled back at her.
“Just because you-”
 
“Everyone please keep moving.” Penny interrupted them from the front of their
group, as they reached a drawbridge crossing the cavernous ravine between the
wall they were on and the slightly taller next one.
 
The redheaded boy gave her a defiant look. “Tell her we are great at magic
Neville!” He ordered the other boy petulantly.
 
The brown-haired boy’s eyes shot between them nervously, unsure of whom to side
with. “Ron, I don’t think we need to have this argument, we’re all friends here
right?” He stammered out, looking embarrassed and clearly trying to diffuse the
situation.
 
But Hermione wasn’t ready to leave it at that, still annoyed at how rude they
had been before. “Clearly they need to prove themselves Neville. I mean what if
they can’t find it in themselves to perform when the time comes.” She let the
words slip out teasingly, while trying to walk farther from the edge of the
bridge and ignore her sister clutching at her.
 
The other girl hissed. “You think you’re so much better than us, don’t you
Greek?” She spat back, shifting her spear into what Hermione assumed was
supposed to be a threatening gesture.
 
So she shrugged and decided to redirect, ignoring Melody’s incessant tugging of
her robe. “Not really, he for instance,” she jabbed her finger at Neville, who
blushed furiously, “has been very polite and obviously has manners. You two on
the other hand…” She let the sentence trail off, as their group reached the end
of the bridge and entered what appeared to be a shopping district.
 
“Alright everyone, first stop is getting you all new outfits!” Tonks shouted
excitedly. “With someone else’s money!” Hermione caught Penny rolling her eyes
and muttering something unintelligible, as they herded them towards a large
building with a variety of colorful clothes painted above the door.
 
The inside of the shop was a large and spacious mess, a huge array of fabrics
and materials were scattered all around, dozens of students with tall pointy
yellow hats running to and fro grabbing cloth, dye, needles and various other
things.
 
“Jerome!” Penny said sternly, catching the arm of a wiry boy as he ran past
them. “This lot needs proper clothes, and you and your lot are going to provide
for them, right?” She threatened the slightly younger boy sternly.
 
The twiggy redhead, for his part just nodded. Clearly used to being strong-
armed by people in a hurry. “Alright then, the first step is to get all of
these rags off.” He snapped his fingers at their group.
 
“No not you Tonks!” His shouted, his voice cracking, snapping Hermione and
several other students out of their initial shock. The shapeshifting teen had
already doffed her robes, revealing a body most fully grown women would have
murdered their children for trying to burst from her straining bodice.
 
The oldest teen sighed in disappointment, as a gaggle of other students in
their tall yellow hats pulled the group all apart and started stripping them of
their clothes.
 
“Stop struggling.” The willowy black haired girl, who had grabbed Hermione
rather roughly, said sternly.
 
Hermione felt like she didn’t need patronizing, and was about to tell the girl
that, when her clothes simply vanished. Leaving her naked as the day she had
been born. “What… why in God’s name?” She squeaked out in confusion, trying
desperately to cover her modesty from peering eyes while the sleepy looking
teen simply smirked and shrugged at her, immediately starting to take her
measurements. She heard Melody’s distinctive squeak, and vaguely recalled Tonks
saying something about needing to get them being taken later.
 
If she had known that they were going to disappear her clothes, she would have
forced the teen to fix the situation earlier.
 
Speaking of the temptress, who had decided to focus her skills on her, Tonks
was swaggering her way around the room. Still without her hideous yellow robe,
and the lusty teen had begun making suggestive comments at everything with a
body under thirty.
 
When it was her turn for teasing Hermione was already flushed with
embarrassment and humiliation at the situation. “Tonks, what in God’s name have
you done!” She hissed at the older teen, who just smirked back down at her nude
body lecherously.
 
“Not my fault they vanished all your guys's stuff,” she responded
unconvincingly, “and they were just going to strip you anyway.” The young woman
trailed off.
 
"Besides Hermione, why would you want to hide such a pretty body. If you just
acted as cute as you look, you’d be fighting the lads off with a stick.” The
teen ruffled her fingers thought Hermione’s frizzy hair affectionately.
 
The mention of the boys brought a flash of fresh panic into her mind, and she
found herself sneaking panicked glances around the room. Most of the boys were
gawking, but not necessarily at her. Neville had been peeking at her for a
moment, but at least had the decency to look embarrassed about it when she met
his eyes. Unlike Ron, who was gawking around the room with his mouth open and
his freshly exposed banner raised high, or at least he was until his sister
untangled herself from her tailor long enough to club him for it.
 
Tonks, seeming realizing that she wasn’t actually enjoying being naked in front
of a bunch of other people, seemed to take pity on her. The older teen knelt
down in front of her, shielding her from prying eyes. “Ok tailor, hurry this up
could you?” She bugged the black haired teen, a small smile still on her lips.
 
“This isn’t a short process Esquire Tonks.” The girl answered in a clearly
irritated tone, rubbing her bloodshot eyes. “I’m thinking maroon and blue for
this one.” The girl said to a rather round woman who had been observing the
work the tailors were doing.
 
The stumpy old ladies friendly face bloomed. “I think that'll be a fine choice
Daisy!” She exclaimed, clearly pleased by the older girls choice. “How does
that sound to you child?” The  woman asked Hermione, fiddling with some needles
stuck into what looked like it woud one way be a dress without looking down.
 
“I think it would be fine…” Hermione trailed off, not sure what was expected of
her in this circumstance.
 
“Very good, make it so!” The woman snapped her fingers, and she bustled over to
where the redheads from earlier stood frowning. “And for the love of Freyr
Tonks, stop trying to rob the cradle and do your job!” The old witch stopped
and cackled back to them, and miraculously the cheerful teen had it in her to
blush at the comment.
 
Then there was a flash of color, of a deep red on black, and Hermione was
presented with a simple black hooded cloak with a maroon pattern.
 
“This should tide you over for now. The rest of your stuff will be delivered
later tomorrow or the day after.” Daisy said tiredly as she slid the cloak
around Hermione’s shoulders, securing the metal clasp it loosely around her
neck. “Depending on how much drinking we do tonight.”
 
Hermione fingered her clasp, and suddenly she felt her mouth go completely dry.
“Is this clasp solid gold?” She choked out to the tailor, who just nodded
tiredly.
 
“We have nice things here.” The tired teen said with a shrug, and Hermione
realized she had let her cloak fall apart in incredulity.
 
Tonks just chuckled, while she clutched the surprisingly well made robe closed
tightly to cover her nakedness. “If it makes you feel any better, everyone else
will be in pretty much the same outfit as you. Except your little servant of
course, but she's special.” The teen teased, her hair turning a bright pink.
 
She spun at the mention of her sister, instantly feeling worried, but it was
unwarranted. Melody was standing only a few feet behind her, her tailor
evidently finished. She was dressed in a black-belted tabard identical to the
one she had been wearing before, looking as frazzled as Hermione felt.
 
“Not a lot of creativity there.” She growled, reaching out to protectively pull
her sisters smaller frame closer.
 
Tonks stood back to her full height, more than a head and half taller that
Hermione. “It’s actually sort of a uniform.” She waved her hand in an
unconcerned gesture. “Mostly so people know not to try and bond her without
your permission.”
 
Penny started shouting something over a commotion of several tailors in the
background, but the older teen continued undaunted. “There are actually quite a
large number of retainers and the like here at Hogwarts, and each type gets
their own way of identifying them. I guess it just makes the whole mess a whole
lot less complicated for everyone involved, when you know where people stand.”
She shrugged, her re-dawned and still hideously yellow robes flapping in a
nonexistent wind.
 
Hermione found herself nodding hesitantly at the pink-haired teen’s attempt at
logic. It actually sort of made sense, a first so far for this particular
experience. “So people could bond her?” She questioned the teen idly.
 
Tonks nodded, as a nearby girl let out a squawk. “They could try, but it would
be substantially harder than normal because your bond would block them. It’s
also deeply frowned upon to court a retainer without getting their master’s
permission first.” She grinned again. “Which would be you, in case you’ve
forgotten already…” The teen twirled her staff in the air, clearly showing off.
 
“Don’t even remind me.” Hermione groaned into her hands, as the least pleasant
development in their glorious war of sisterhood reared its ugly head again.
“Does my sister need anything else Tonks?” She asked the older teen cautiously.
 
“That’s Esquire Tonks to you little Initiate.” The shapeshifter teased in mock
sternness, giving her a sly smile while she thought to herself. “I suppose we
could always get her a collar.” She said while raising an eyebrow, then she
seemed to make up her mind an instant later, clapping her hands in a pleased
manner. “One with your initials on it perhaps?”
 
“Jesus Christ, what have I ever done wrong lord…” Melody pleaded to the
ceiling, massaging the spot on her neck where the little black sigil sat. “Can
we please skip that part of my punishment?” She begged Hermione futilely as
they watched Tonks run off towards the shelves of cloth.
 
“Maybe you were evil in a past life?” A brown-skinned girl of clearly Indian
stock cut in, dragging her almost identical sister and another girl who was
slightly paler over to them. “Bad Karma can cause all sorts of trouble.”
 
“And Romans have lots of bad Karma.” The paler Indian added, grinning at them
wryly.
 
Melody growled, while Tonks’s hideous robes disappeared behind the shelving.
“We are BYZANTINES, NOT ROMANS!” She waved her hands and started swearing in
Greek, and a minty scent washed across Hermione’s senses. “Is it really that
hard to grasp the difference?” The tiny brunette stomped her feet cutely and
gestured sharply with her arms. "Latium, and Hellas." The little brunnette
grumbled. 
 
The Indians seemed to find the display adorable. Which she doubted was what her
sister had been going for. “Oh, aren’t you a lively one.” The slightly shorter
twin said, her eyes widening with glee.
 
“How absolutely Lovable!” Their paler companion agreed.
 
“You are both too easily gullible.” The taller twin said, rolling her eyes in
amused exasperation. “Anyways my good Christians, I am Padma Patil, this is my
twin Parvati Patil, and the Sikh is our mutual friend Nimmi Jun. And as you've
probably already guessed, we're exchange students from India.” The exotic girl
gestured to each of them in turn.
 
Hermione nodded. “You're well met Ms. Patil." She quickly introduced herself
and her sister, after Melody had calmed down from her little fit.
 
“So how did you three end up here?” She asked them curiously.
 
Padma gestured for them to walk while Penny, finally noticing that they were
all as properly dressed as they were going to get, started shouting for
everyone to move out. “We are here as exchange students, as part of the mutual
treaties between our empires a portion of students that would go to our schools
back in India must go to Hogwarts and the schools of the other allied nations,
and in turn a portion of the students that would go here are divided up amongst
those other nations as well.” She shrugged, adjusting the clasp on her robe.
“It was Dumbledore’s idea apparently; he wanted to foster a feeling of
cooperation and good faith between the various mage lead empires.” The girl
 splurged information, and Hermione attention was instantly hooked by the
thought of having found a kindred spirit. “I think it holds much to resemblance
to the hostage taking between warring kingdoms forced into unwanted peace.” The
girl finished, looking like she didn't really expect Hermione to have
understood.
 
“I think you're literally the first person I have talked to in almost two days
that wasn’t a babbling idiot.” She replied back, nearly in shock at someone who
seemed to actually know something about their current situation. “And to answer
your unasked question Padma, we were essentially kidnapped from our home in
Constantinople.”
 
Padma nodded in understanding. “I had assumed as much, I know the Orthodox tend
to be less stringent that the other branches of Abrahams tree due to their
running a trade empire, but I doubted they would allow people of their nation
to join in such an endeavor as this willingly.” The girl answered her
intelligently.
 
“Could you say that again in simpler terms for the rest of us?” Parvati asked,
Nimmi and Melody nodding in turn in confusion.
 
She shared a look of mutual suffering with the Indian girl and they both
proceeded to try their hand at explaining things to their siblings.
 
§
 
Violet was still acting up when they arrived at the place beyond the strange
twisted trees. To be fair, Draco and his group were not in the best moods
either. The encounter with the Weasley’s had obviously left a bad taste in his
new compatriot’s mouths. One Harry wasn’t all that interested in making them
explain, at least not while he was the only one still in anything resembling a
good mood.
 
Well that might have been something of a stretch.
 
He wasn’t in a great mood, but unlike everyone else, he was still more
distracted by the ritual Penny had made the pair of brunettes preform in front
of everyone.
 
The ritual had made the feeling he was getting from the pair of siblings change
dramatically, like the younger of the two had begun siphoning magic from her
elder. And the older of the two seemed to have plenty of magic to spare, not
that he had been able to get that great of a feeling of her core, as he hadn’t
actually wanted the frizzy brunette to realize that he had been feeling her
out.
 
She hadn’t noticed his probe though, or at least the girl hadn’t seemed to have
noticed it. Seemingly too distracted by her vaguely coerced bonding to pay
attention to the tendrils of magic he had brushed against the outer layers of
her thundering core.
 
Then there was the fact that they had all been forced to bond to the crazy
older teen, with her color changing hair, not even a minute later. It had been
even very distracting in his opinion, and even the small feeling of oppressive
wetness that wouldn’t fade was irritating, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t
handle.
 
The fact that she could apparently change her appearance to imitate another
person's form entirely was infinitely more disturbing in his opinion.
 
It suddenly made the warnings Hagrid and the others had given him feel much
more relevant.
 
His thinking had been made harder by the fact that the his usually cheerful
sister had still been sulking, her foul mood echoing across their bond and
distracting him. She was ignoring every subtle attempt he had made to try and
feel her out. It was made worse because he wasn’t sure exactly why she was
still so mad anymore. Whether her mood was still leftover from his encounter
with Dior the night before, or whether she had gotten over that and was now
pissed at her own prematurely aborted battle with the redheads, he couldn’t
tell.
 
Their bond told him nothing more than that his mate was annoyed at something.
Harry had figured that he could have tried to pulling her out of her funk in
his usual way, but he wasn’t quite sure how everyone else would take it if she
jumped him on the roadside, and so he stayed his own hand and resigned to let
her stew for at least the immediate future.
 
Fortunately for him, her annoyance was replaced rather quickly. Unfortunately
it was being replaced with a sickness that came with an even fouler mood. As
soon as they had passed through the bubbling air between the trees, he could
feel her queasiness swelling up through their bond and she swayed visibly.
 
He was bad at magical travel, that much had already been made apparent to
everyone that had been present to watch, but it seemed that his sister was so
much worse that it was almost sad.
 
His twin rubbed at her freckled face, trying to clear the bout of nausea while
they were walking up the path to the top of the hill. The friction turned her
cheeks and nose red enough to hide her freckles, and he couldn't help but think
that she looked adorable.
 
He felt his core stirring as his the corners of his mouth twinge upward at the
sight of her flush, the familiar heat coming back when he didn’t really need it
to.
 
He had always loved how flushed his twin would get, her entire body could turn
a brilliant red at a moment’s notice when embarrassed or aroused, either way
usually followed with her turning into a stammering mess.
 
But when they crested the hill, she went from red to green in a flash. Harry
only needed to follow her gaze to find out why.
 
There in the distance was a massive castle... a fortress of such scale that it
must have defied both gravity and the very will of the gods themselves.
 
It stood, shifting shape while he watched it, and while he stared he heard a
short gasp come from next to him. He spun to see that Violet had fainted
outright, falling unconscious into Dior’s arms, and the slender blonde groped
her frame apologetically as she searched for a better grip.
 
Draco and the rest of his company seemed to be less impressed than a lot of the
other students around them. Which in this case meant that they didn’t have
their jaws slacked in outright awe at the sight of the mirage-like fortress.
They still stood wide eyed though, except for Dior, who was busy trying to wake
his sister, and Pansy who was quietly complaining to Draco about something he
couldn't quite make out.
 
“If you’re having balance issues, try not staring directly at the castle.”
Penny shouted from the front of the group, as the buxom shape-shifter gestured
for them to follow her from the hilltop.
 
Violet awoke with a sudden start, flinging herself out of the taller blonde’s
hands in an unbalanced manner. “Bloody-….” She cursed unhappily, swaying long
enough for Harry to wrap her arm around her shoulder to help her stand.
 
He helped her as they descended into the fields of tall wheat, and they began
walking as swiftly as could be managed towards the tremendous castle.
 
Though he did have to stop twice after she had made the mistake of looking up,
and Violet ended up puking her guts out, and then he ran-half dragged her so
they could catch up to the rest of their group.
 
But eventually she seemed to recover enough to stand on her own and whistle for
her dragon, which leapt from the wheat over the stone wall which separated the
field from the dusty road they were walking down.
 
Harry hadn’t noticed George follow them through the bubbling trees, but he
supposed the drake must simply be stealthier than he had thought.
 
He wrapped his arm behind her, ruffling her crimson tangles while the walked.
“Are you feeling better?” He asked unnecessarily, as he could sense her
physical improvement across their bond, and through the way she shifted closer
to him.
 
She shot a mildly annoyed glance at the redheads, still clearly unhappy with
that outcome as she pulled him closer. “I’m feeling fine…” She sighed and
fingered the grip of her sword.
 
“I’m sure there will be plenty of time to finish that fight later Vi.” He
assured his twin, pulling her forwards as their group reached the wall.
 
Harry didn’t hear what was said by the Esquires, as he had been distracted for
an instant by George rushing past his legs, and they were too far back in the
group to see how the doorway had been created on the wall. But a moment later
he found Penny was suddenly behind him, pushing his and Draco’s little band
which had been falling behind, hurriedly forwards.
 
Then they were suddenly among gigantic, lavash gardens, that hurriedly flashed
him by as they were rushed through them, to a large drawbridge and onto the
second wall. The second fortification has topped by a market that felt simply
huge, but also open and well-spaced so as to leave everything easily visible.
 
Then they were dragged into what he assumed was a tailor shop of some sort, by
the hundreds of rolls of fabric lying around and the dozens of people that
grabbed them, then an instant later some form of magic stripped them so the
tailors could take measurements more easily.
 
Everyone had been unhappy when their clothes and possessions had vanished.
Harry felt he handled it the best, though maybe was because he was used to
going as such when he and his sister had managed to capture some time alone
back home.
 
Dior and Draco had been less pleased. “What! Where did our stuff go?” The
slender blonde boy had squeaked out in surprise, covering his manhood in shock.
 
His twin was less restrained, “My sword!” She shouted, her face flashing in
rage, completely indifferent to the state of her nakedness, as she started
struggling against the yellow hatted tailors.
 
“Alright, everyone calm down!” Penny’s voice cracked sternly over the roar.
“Your possessions should be in our quarters when we arrive.” She waved her
wand, sparks flashing brilliantly near some rolls of cloth.
 
A brilliant decision that was immediately followed by no less than three
different tailors tackling her to the ground.
 
They struggled for a moment, and he could feel his party’s mood lifting in
amusement as the younger of their Esquires shouted. “Tonks help, I’m down!”
 
“Girls look at the size of ears on this one…” One of the younger tailors cooed.
She gripped Ron’s ears, making him yelp, and distracting him from suddenly from
his gawking.
 
His own tailor’s hands wandered down his abdomen. “I think I’ve got the best
catch here Sam.” The teen chuckled, her measuring tape closer to his manhood
than he would have liked.
 
Violet huffed at the teen behavior, and turned back to her own tailor. “Finish
up or pay up.” She grouched down at the twiggy blonde as the ruler measuring
the width of the gap between her thighs got just a little to close.
 
There was an annoyed hiss, like an aggravated cat. “Just hurry up will you?”
Dior griped out in impatience, the willowy girl trying to cover her important
bits from prying eyes.
 
His sister’s tailor snorted at her while Dior’s chuckled. “Hardly much to show
lass, nothing but skin and bones…” The teen trailed off as she measured Violets
nose, then she shouted at another teen for emerald cloth.
 
Violet and Dior both huffed, their skin flushing pleasingly in shared
embarrassment and anger. He just grinned over at the pair,  who glared back for
a second, before being interrupted.
 
“Alright, now on to the rest if this shit.” A frazzled looking Penny reappeared
nearby, as his tailor clasped a simple black cloak around Harry’s shoulders.
 
They were an odd bunch that was shepherded out from the tailor shop, thirty
some eleven-year olds, clutching shapeless black tunics tight as they were
marched down the road.
 
And the fact that the wall was broad enough to have a road running along it was
not lost in him either.
 
The next shop they were dragged to turned out to be a large and dingy shop,
filled with shelves and shelves of unidentifiable objects. “Alright come out
Ollivander, we need a bunch of focuses for their practice .” Tonks shouted into
the seemingly endless shelves.
 
“Not here for anything nefarious I would hope Esquire?” A voice came from
between where they were standing and the door, ignoring the teens question with
a dry accusation.
 
The teen’s pink hair turned white as she spun around. “Of course not
Ollivander.” She growled disapprovingly as Harry turned to see a tall, gaunt
man with huge luminous eyes. “Have I ever lied to you?” She asked him. The man
didn’t even blink as he responded with a, “Yes.”
 
“Oh come on, it was just the one time.” The curvy teen flushed. “And it’s not
like anyone got hurt.” She pouted at Ollivander.
 
“Three thousand pounds of silver in lost merchandise Tonks.” He replied flatly,
his milky gaze passing over them all with a discerning look.
 
“And I said I was sorry…” The teen grumbled out, hair turning purple again.
 
He ignored her complaining, luminous eyes searching each in their group, and
Harry felt they were fixed on him a moment longer than the rest. “Nevertheless,
I have sworn to aid you in your duty and so I will.” He waved at them.
“Everyone please line up single file. No, not you Tonks, you go sit outside
where my stock will be safe from your clumsiness…”
 
The strange thin man seemed to have some actual authority, Harry noted idly, as
the bubbly teen merely groaned and complied with the demand.
 
“Now then, who shall we start with?” Ollivander asked himself as Tonks went
outside to pout. “How about you?” He gestured to a round faced boy nearby, who
squeaked in protest.
 
Then a wall of magic slammed into Harry, as the tall man circled the boy once.
The gaunt old mage was ancient; Harry could taste it on his tongue, ancient and
powerful.
 
“Waxwood, with scale from an Amazonian Naga.” He flicked his hand and a three
foot pole shot from the shelves. “Your staff…” He handed the brown haired boy
the length of wood. “This staff is to be your first focus…I expect that you
take better care of it than your Esquire showed her's.”
 
“I still have my first…” Penny said idly, pushing one of the girls back into
line. “Not my fault Tonks is such a klutz.”
 
And so an hour went by. Ollivander would randomly select a student, blast them
with enough magic to knock over a horse, and then summon their chosen staff
from the gloomy depths of his shop. It was an almost perfectly quiet
experience, and Harry found both the silence and the routine blasts of powerful
magic unnerving.
 
Even his twin had been cowed into submission by the time her turn came, the
wandmaker’s magic being simply too powerful for Violet to even think about
voicing complaint. Even their bond was silent as the gaunt man chose an
Ironwood and Warg tooth staff for her. Presenting the serpentine rod to her
with the tenderness one would use to give a newborn baby to its mother.
 
Dior, Goyle, Crabbe, and Pansy’s turns went by quickly. Only Draco had the
audacity to try and complain about his staff having a flake from a unicorn’s
horn as a core.
 
Despite Harry’s expectation, Ollivander did not melt the boy into goo with
merely a mean look, but simply chuckled at his complaining. “One cannot judge a
craft by its components newest Malfoy… but by the quality of its performance.”
He answered cryptically, sweeping over to his next victim, a dark skinned girl,
without another word.
 
Finally, Harry was the only one left. He had the distinct feeling that his
exclusion hadn’t been an accident either, and while the moon eyed man stalked
over to him, he noticed Penny stiffen visibly in the corner of his vision.
 
Then magic blasted across him, it felt like he had dove from one of the islands
cliffs and slammed into the water. It didn’t really hurt, but there was the
sense that it could crush him like a bug if desired.
 
And like the light from a candle being blown out, it suddenly vanished. “Isn’t
that… most curious.” He gave Harry an odd look, one that said that knew much
more than he was going to tell.
 
The man frowned as he straightened and he glanced at Penny, sharing a look
who’s meaning Harry couldn’t discern. “Elderwood for you young Lord
Potter…Elderwood and Well-Man skin.”
 
The staff shot like an arrow from the shelves. “Luck is not with you this day.”
He said cryptically as he handed the cream-colored staff to Harry, who felt a
powerful tingle shoot up his arms the moment his hands made contact with the
smooth wooden rod. “For this focus will be cursed.” The man’s face was gravely
serous, and he felt a bead of sweat drip down his back in actual intimidation.
“Know that this staff will betray you when you need it most Harry.” He warned
with a nod to Penny, who immediately set about her task of getting everyone out
of the shop.
 
“Thank Mr. Ollivander everyone, and then everyone out! We have a feast to get
to!” She shouted, her professional tone sounding strained by the most recent
events.
 
The mysterious and powerful man nodded down at him, placing a hand on Harry’s
shoulder for a moment. “If you are ever having problems with it, I want you to
come to me immediately.” He warned, and then the moon-eyed old man turned, and
with a billow of his dark robes he disappeared into the shelves.
 
Fresh annoyance flickered across his bond, and he turned to see his twin
scowling as they walked from the shop and back into the street. “Of course we
get screwed.” She grumbled quietly.
 
Harry looked around, but Draco and his party seemed to have been lost in the
growing crowd on the road. “Only my staff is cursed Violet.”
 
“Yeah but they stole our weapons!” She whispered loudly, her cloak falling open
carelessly.
 
“I think that someone mentioned us getting them bac-” 
 
Penny cut him off as their group stopped under a small tree growing from the
road. “Ok, now we go to the great hall!” She shouted over the murmuring. Tonks
stood tall, waving her arms around to get everyone’s attention. “I want
everyone hold hands, and whatever you do… don’t let go until I tell you to!”
She grinned out at them wickedly.
 
So Harry reached out, clasping the hand of one of several dark skinned girls
nearby. He couldn’t tell if the girl blushed or not, but his twin did subtly
kick his shin as he grabbed her hand.
 
As soon as everyone had linked up, the older teen's hair flashed through
several different colors. “Remember, it is important that you don’t let go
until we come to a complete stop I don’t want to be jumping across half the
castle trying to track you down while there is beer to be drunk.” She said
sarcastically, and Penny groaned in exasperation at her companions smile.
 
“Why do I get the feeling that I’m going to be tracking them down if we lose
any?” She questioned the other teen in an annoyed tone.
 
“Regardless, It is time to go!” Tonks ignored her with an excited shout, as she
clasped hands with the group and grinned again.
 
Then the world was ripped out from under him and they were blurring through
space.
 
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
--------------------------------------
Ok, so chapter five is finished, which means I can finally move on to the feast
and beyond.
As you might have noticed, I slightly upped the size and eldritchness of
Hogwarts. That will be explained in more depth in the future. Probably in
chapter seven or eight if I can keep to the schedule, but it will have an
explanation.
And for those of you who are worried about Ron being a total prat in this
story, I assure you that he is just in an understandably bad mood and that
their are good reasons for peoples behaviors.
Also, bonus points to anyone who knows who the Valusians are without needing to
Google it first.
***** Feast of Fancy *****


I would like to start chapter six by thanking everyone who has provided
comments so far. I love hearing from people, even if they don’t always agree
with me.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
--------------------------------------

Hermione resisted the urge to vomit, as gripped Melody and Padma’s hands
clenched her own  desperately, and the world swirled and it's colors blurred
and mixed as Tonks slid through the air and dragged them all with.

To say that the past couple of days had been stressful for her would have been
a massive understatement. She had been arrested for being a witch, was thrown
in a dungeon, then kidnapped from certain death by a real witch, and then she
had spent countless hours trapped naked in the hold of a rickety galley. Then
just to make her stress worse, she had been dragged around an island by a
bubbly teen with horrible sense in fashion, was forced to unwittingly enslave
her younger sister, and then been made to bond to the same aforementioned teen.
At which point she had been coerced through a portal to a school of
indescribable size and complexity, magically stripped naked by her tailors, and
given only a cloak to dress with.

And now they were all being dragged through the air to some sort of initiation
feast.

So it wouldn’t exactly be a stretch to say that she wasn’t happy with the way
things had been going, though that was probably a given considering her
background.

That was probably due largely to the teachings of the church, as though the
Orthadox branch was considered the most liberal of the Abrahamic faiths, that
still wasn’t saying very much. And their position on the practice of witchcraft
was still quite clear.

And so Hermione herself, being an obedient though not particularly faithful
child, had never held any love for the concept, which she was rapidly realizing
was probably ironic because the mounting evidence that she was a witch herself
was quickly becoming overwhelming. It certainly was an unwelcome realization,
but at the same time she couldn't help but see it as rather amusing... that she
would have been singled out by the Inquisition, a young girl that spent most of
her time studying and reading in the cities library, was almost too big of a
coincidence to be true.
Though, considering that the captain of the guard was apparently a witch
herself, Hermione had quietly figured that she shouldn't have really been that
surprised. 

She also wasn’t nearly as stressed about the whole thing as she had been
earlier that day in the hold, or especially the day before when she and her
sister had been dragged from their home. She internally figured the change in
mental behavior was probably the result of some sort of satanic magic affecting
her mind, not yet willing to acknowledge that she might have actually accepted
her new lot in life yet, even if only internally.

Not that it was easy to contemplate such lofty ideas while being whisked
through the air, over the castles towering walls, hurling across the chasms
between them and down their crowded roads, she actually found the experience
quite terrifying.

Then she suddenly felt that there was an intense sensation of snapping back,
and she was thrown out of control several feet forward across the pavement by
her own excess momentum, her hands breaking their death grip on Padma and
Melody’s.

Hermione’s mind went racing to the warning Penny had given them earlier, about
releasing their joined hands too early. But her alarmed thoughts were
interrupted before she could do anything more that startle herself.

“Well, well, well… You actually made it on time Nymphadora.” A stern and
extremely familiar voice drawled out with faint amusement.

Hermione looked up, from where she had stumbled and saw that McGonagall stood
before a massive arching doorway, decked out in voluminous scarlet robes, and
with a golden tiara glinting in her greying hair.

“I suppose I should be impressed?” The older woman asked herself dryly, with an
almost sarcastic wave of her hand. “Usually something would have gone horribly
wrong by now…”

“Let’s not jinx it…” Penny responded from the rear of the group. “The night
hasn’t even begun yet.”

Hermione tuned out Tonks's defense of her own competence, and instead took the
moment regaining her balance to gawk at the massive citadel that towered over
them. It was tall enough to give the impression that it was leaning over to
fall on them.

She knew it was an illusion of perspective, her countless hours spent studying
had taught her enough to know that, but it was still an incredibly alarming
feeling being this close to the towering structure.

Amused laughter echoed from behind her, and she turned to see Parvati sitting
on one of the marble paving stones, giggling helplessly to herself. “I want to
do that again!” The caramel-skinned girl shouted excitedly to the others piled
around her.

“Fuck you!” The redhead she had seen earlier cursed loudly from where she was
dry-heaving on the ground, jabbing an accusing finger in the Patil twins
general direction between her curses.

“I think it would be smart if we didn’t do that again…” Her male companion
said, pulling himself up and scrabbling to help the redheaded, ignoring their
drake pacing back and forth nearby, the slender reptile having somehow followed
them all as they flew halfway across the castle.

But Parvati apparently didn’t know when to shut up. “We should do it again, it
was awesome!” She grinned excitedly, letting her cloak fall open again
carelessly, revealing a pair of little brown nipples as she turned to back
compatriots. “You guys agree right?”

Padma grimaced, either at her sister’s nudity or her suggestion, but Nimmi
nodded rapidly and began speaking in the barbarian tongue they had been
unfortunate enough to have learned instead of Koine.

That reminded Hermione of her obligations, and she decided that she would need
to teach her new acquaintances to speak properly when she had the time.

But before she could dwell on the Sisyphean task of culturally enlightening the
barbarian masses further, a muffled groan came from behind her and she turned
again in curiosity. It was pretty much what she had been expecting.

“Neville, what on earth are you doing down there?” She asked him rhetorically,
raising an eyebrow as she saw the boy attempting to work himself out from under
a tangled pile of several girls. A pile that included... to Hermione’s fresh
amusement, Miriam. The Moorish girl squealed as the blushing boy accidentally
elbowed her through her now open cloak, trying her hardest to cover her entire
body with the tangled fabric and avoid touching anyone at the same time.

She couldn’t help her smirk in spite of herself, it was funny watching the
dark-skinned girl flail and tangle herself further, and she was obligated to
enjoy the sight of one of the heathens in peril after all. So the sight of the
other girl floundering brought with an ingrained feeling of warmth to her
heart.

“Sorry, sorry…” The dark-haired boy squawked out, as he worked to untangled
himself from the pile of limbs and tangled cloaks.

“Nice…” She commented wryly, before helping to pull him back to his feet, and
shooting an annoyed look at the pile of girls glaring in their direction. “You
all should show more decency…" she rebuked them, "Touching a boy like that in
your state of dress is shameful!” She let the disapproving lecture flow from
her lips, pointedly ignoring how most of the other girls continued to glare at
her as she went on. "Your not even engaged to poor Neville!"

Miriam’s face flushed further, and the Muslim girl nodded rapidly in agreement
with her,  presumably too embarrassed to actually speak in support while so
close to so many angry girls. 

“There's no need to be so uptight Hermione. After all, I've heard we’re
supposed to be in for a fun night!” The smartest of her three Indian companions
responded, the trio close behind Melody as the Eight-year old rushed over to
where she was standing.

“But what do we have here?” Padma asked curiously, her face flashing full of
amusement as she stalked up to the disentangling pile. Her sister and close
friend following in her footsteps, grinning as she circled him. “You didn’t
tell us about any boys Hermione…”

Neville blushed instantly under the looks the trio of Indian girls were giving
him, or maybe it was the clear view he was getting through Parvati's
unashamedly open cloak, Hermione wasn't going to assume. “I met him on the
bridge, just a little while before I met you three. He’s polite, and acts
decently.” She replied honestly, impressed by the boy's attempt at honorable
behavior.

Padma gave him a fascinated look. “Well then I suppose he must be,  I mean if
he impresses the Christian…” She trailed off sarcastically, as their group was
slowly crowded into the archway by another group 's arrival.

Hermione ignored the Indian girls friendly jab, and grabbed her sisters hand,
as their group was led into a large hallway filled with hundreds of other
children their age.

“Now listen up everyone!” Minerva spoke clearly from halfway up a staircase at
the other end of the hall. The stern woman silenced the entire hall of children
with nothing more than the command in her tone “The Great Hall beyond these
doors is where we will be having the welcoming feast, but before you will be
allowed to take your places and eat you will be initiated!”

“This will be done by a short ritual, wherein you will write your name on a
scroll with your own blood.” She waved at the massive crowed of students and
their mostly bored looking tutors. “By doing this you will be inducted into the
Hogwarts student registry, and you will be marked as a Magi from that moment
forward!” The old woman finished grandly, a proud look coming across her
lightly-wrinkled face.

There was a burst of hushed whispering all around her, as McGonagall spun
around and lead them down a darkened corridor, everyone was excited by what the
elder woman had told them and there were all kinds of wild whispering as they
walked.

Hermione pushed her way aggressively forward, dragging Melody behind her as she
reached the front of the crowed just in time for the old woman to open a
massive wooden door at the end of the hallway, which swung open soundlessly, on
well-oiled hinges.

The hall that lay beyond the door did not fail to live up to its name. It was
unmistakably the Great Hall.
It was the kind of sight she would have expected to see in mythic Olympus, the
kind of grand hall that was meant for the enjoyment of the pagan gods, and not
something to be found in the realm of mortal men. It was a truly massive room,
held up by thick pillars of white marble and strange greenish stone that seemed
to fade seamlessly into the brilliant oranges and reds of the sky above them,
and making it appear as though the room had no true ceiling.

And the hall itself was absolutely packed full with people of all sorts.
Dressed in every kind of clothes she had ever dreamed of, singing, dancing and
talking so quickly that she could barely make out any individual words.

All that stopped the moment the great oak doors opened and the initiates were
herded though. The entire crowed, as massive and lively as it was, falling
silent as the grave and turning to stare in the direction of the opened doors.

Hermione was struck with the same vertigo as before as she looked out across
the hall, though it was not nearly intense as it had been atop the hill. The
immense room’s size seemed to change before her eyes, with the distances to
people far away shifting suddenly closer, as the space of the hall somehow
contracted itself without losing any volume.

The raised podium at the far end of the hall suddenly snapped into focus, from
what seemed like a mile away. A huge platform with tables curved to face the
rest of the hall, and judging by the ages of the people who seamed to be seated
there, Hermione decided that it must have been where the teachers sat.

An idea that seemed to be confirmed by the one of the large wooden thrones that
still sat empty, with the symbols MM carved into the upper portion in the
letters of the Latin alphabet, being taken by the Transfiguration Mistress who
had crossed the room somehow while she hadn't been paying the woman any
attention.

"I wonder if Dumbledore is going to give a speech.” Hermione heard a tallish
and rather aristocratic looking blonde whispered to a frowning dark-haired girl
nearby. The dark-haired girl scowled deeper, and turned to a rather androgynous
blonde boy, who might have been the first girl’s brother.

“Do you really think we’ll have to sit through that Draco? I’m too hungry to be
made to wait.” She whined in protest.

“I’ll agree to that sentiment.” The frizzy redhead from before said, pipping up
from where she had slid in nearby.

Padma took that moment to reappear, dragging Neville and with her sister and
friend trailing along. “Of course he’s going to give a speech!” The Indian girl
said haughtily. “What kind of Liege doesn’t give a speech before a feast?” She
asked the complaining pair incredulously.

Hermione opened her mouth to agree with her, but the old bearded man in his
dazzling blue robes stood up from his golden throne in the center of the raised
dais, he walked with an air of calmly measured authority. A liege, confident in
his own power and in the power and loyalty of his vassals. 

The bearded old ruler made his way swiftly to the podium, sunlight glinting off
of the golden laurel that sat nestled in his long white hair, as he beamed down
at them as though he was pleased by their mere presence. The stretching of
space making it seem like he was very close, and she  briefly imagined she
could see the individual wrinkles on his face if she squinted, before the
vertigo hit again and she drew her gaze back.

“Welcome to Hogwarts!” His voice thundered across the room, as he swung his
arms wide, like he was going to try and embrace all of them. “First of all, I
would like to congratulate all of the students and alumni who are returning,”
There was a number of enthusiastic shouts from the assembly, “and to the staff
and servants, without whom tonight’s delicious feast wouldn’t have been
possible!” The crowd absolutely roared at the mention of food, loud enough that
her younger sister slapped her hands over her ears.
 
“And we mustn’t forget to welcome our First-Years and their Esquires!” The
crowd again shouted in celebration, and Tonks and Penny slipped up towards the
front of the group with about a hundred other teenagers. Raising their wands
and staffs into the air and basking in the waves of adulation.

“Alright, thank you, thank you!” The powerful old man, who Hermione internally
figured must have been Dumbledore shouted to them, and the room calmed quickly
at his request.

He snapped his fingers, and a short pillar of marble appeared before them,
startling Hermione and a number of other students near the front of the crowed
of first-years at it's sudden appearance. Atop it was a thick scroll of
parchment and there was a black feather pen placed gingerly on top. “All
prospective students will need to sign their names before we can all be seated
for the feast.” Dumbledore said, and in an instant, Hermione knew the meaning
of contradiction. It felt like a glowing fog had settled tenderly across her
senses, and she felt compelled to write in the scroll. 

The signing after that went past in a blur of emotion for Hermione. So quickly
in fact, that she didn’t actually remember what she had put down or the pain of
drawing blood. But before she knew what was happining, she found herself seated
on a bench, with Melody to her right and the boy from earlier with his long
black hair sitting to her left.

“Have you ever had northerner food Hermione?” Pavrati asked her from across the
table after they all seemed to come back from under the influence of the golden
fog.

She shrugged in reply. “I can’t say I have.” It was an honest reply, as most of
the dishes her mother or their house servant had made for her and her sister
had been classical Greek or Roman food, with her mother occasionally dipping
her finger into the ocean of cuisine and harassing a local busybody from Persia
for a recipe or two in exchange for a few hours of gossip. 
The caramel-skinned girl grinned in a manner she wasn’t entirely sure wasn’t
sarcastic. “Then trust me, you’re in for a real treat.” She informed, wiggling
her eyebrows in emphasis.

Then there was a loud popping sound, and in an instant the entire table was
absolutely stuffed with golden plates and bowels piled with more food than she
had ever seen in one place.

“Jesus Christ!” Melody squeaked, nearly leaping from her skin from shock at the
sudden appearance of all the fine cuisine the castles cooks could provide.

The table was coated in food, more than Hermione thought they would be able to
eat, and all of the other tables were coated similarly. The hall roared at the
sudden blessing, and at once everything that had been started before started
back up again at an even greater pitch.

She reached cautiously into the platter of sliced meat, trying to glimpse Padma
from behind the pile as she stacked her plate, but their were multiple piles of
food between them.

“Make sure you try the stuffing!” Hermione thought she heard Pavrati shout past
the food, as a few students nearby started singing about the exploits of a
talking whale and a Nordic maiden and her Tully decided that translating that
was more important.

“Here squirt, try some mead.” A jolly little brunette shouted happily, passing
a pitcher of thick golden fluid down the table, which Melody accepted with a
happy little gasp.

Hermione poured herself half of a goblet of what she assumed was some kind of
wine. “Remember to eat something before you have any alcohol Melody.” She
chided her younger sister warning, "Or you'll get sick again..." But despite
her misgivings, Hermione kneeled to the massive puppy eyes Melody unsealed on
her, and she ended up pouring the liquor for her sibling anyways.

§

Harry was enjoying himself immensely, because the night had certainly taken a
turn for the better.

Here he was, in the grandest hall he had ever imagined possible. Everywhere
there were wonderfully decorated pillars and walls, reaching up to meld into
the very fabric of the sky itself.

There was food of all sorts piled tall on huge golden platters, cauldrons
broiling with soups and pitchers and pitchers of every drink imaginable.

And to top it all off, he had even gotten a seat next to the two girls he had
been interested in before. The oldest of the pair sat with an almost tense
poise next to him, slowly nibbling her way through a pile of sliced lamb and
some chicken stuffing.

She made quite the contrast with his own sister, who was working her way
through an entire glazed ham on his other side in a competition with Ron and
his sister Rachel.

He supposed that it was good that the three could get whatever it had been it
out of their systems without beating each other into a pulp, but their shrapnel
was finding itself into his soup and he was getting annoyed by it.

“Violet you should try something else,” he pleaded with her finally, “there is
more here than just ham.” He said convincingly, motioning to a plate of honey-
coated biscuits that glimmered in the light.

His twin gave the redheads across from her an untrusting look, and swiped a
stuffed bun from a nearby basket, fingering the hunk of bread possessively,
like she was afraid someone would take the one she had grabbed instead of one
of the thirty still on the platter.

As he contemplated his sisters various neurosis, someone nearby started playing
music.

Harp notes floated over the sound of thousands in idle chatter or dining. Harry
turned back to the frizzy hared brunette who pulled her cloak a little closer
together as he shifted to face her on his chair. “Hello, I’m Harry Potter.” He
greeted her as clearly as he could, noticing earlier that tone of speaking was
very poor, and not wanting to get dragged into yet another misunderstanding.

The girl started, turned to him and gave him an almost incredulous look as she
swept the brown locks from her eyes, like he had just declared to her that he
had secretly been a fish this whole time.

But before the brunette could comment, someone else butted into their
burgeoning conversation. “Harry Potter! We’ve heard of you!” A dark-skinned
girl from across the table interrupted in thickly accented English, her magic
flickering against his curiously as she slid a plate of potatoes over so she
could see them more easily.

“We’ve heard you killed Tom Riddle!” The slightly shorter of the two girls
said, letting her cloak fall open casually to reveal the caramel colored skin
it had hid.

He shrugged uncertainly. “I’ve heard that too. Don’t remember it though.”

“Tom Riddle?” The frizzy-haired girl seemed to ask herself, her brows furrowing
deeply in concentration. “I think I’ve heard that name before.” She seemed to
return to herself after a moment of throught. “I’m Hermione Granger, by the
way…” She replied slowly in her curious accent.

Harry nodded back politely, still not entirely sure how he was supposed to be
handling himself in situations like this but pleased at his success so far.
Hagrid had been a decent teacher when he had been around, but the
man's expertise had been closer to Vernon’s, and so the amount of time expended
teaching them how to interact with other people their age had been rather
limited.

And his interactions with Dudley were unlikely to help him here. He doubted any
of the girls would appreciate a head-butt.

Which meant he was working mostly with what he had learned the past few days
and his gut.

He figured that was ok though, it was usually enough.

The fact that he and his sister had terrified most of the other children of the
village because they had chosen to act on their wits, instead of asking Petunia
or Trude for instructions, was something he didn’t even bother considering.

“That’s my sister” He gestured with a thumb over his shoulder, promptly
introducing Violet. “The one inhaling a ham.”

“Murgle…” His twin trailed off eloquently in greeting, before she traded off
what was left of the ham to start working on disemboweling a melon.

Draco seemed to notice their interaction and he quickly leaned across the
table, interjecting himself into the conversation as well. “Draco Malfoy!” He
introduced himself rather grandly, especially for someone who had just slid
their elbow was into the butter leaning over.

The brunette gave them both a rather unimpressed once over, while the dark
skinned girls giggled from across the table. “Your elbow…” The giggling girl
pointed out.

His friend blinked owlishly, before jolting back with a startled squawk. Then
he settled for leaning back against Pansy and blushing, sulking in his faux-pas
while ignoring the light chuckling from the other students around them.

Harry took a second from the conversation to try another scoop of the most
delicious mashed potatoes that he had ever had, ignoring the way they
practically melted in his mouth, he quickly returned to the engagement.

“So, does you sister have a name?” He asked, noticing the tinier version of the
frizzy-haired brunette working her way through a bottle of scotch while her
older sibling was focused on him.

Hermione rolled her eyes, and moved to grab the smaller girl away from
the whiskey. “Melody, I told you to eat something first!” She said, before
switching to lecturing her sibling in a different language.

The smaller girl’s face was already pretty pink, so he wasn’t quite sure why
the girl bothered with it, seeing as at this point getting her to eat was
likely to just make it worse later.

After snatching the half-empty bottle she turned back. “The Easterners are
Padma, Parvati and Nimmi.” She said in a rather matter-a-fact voice, jabbing a
thumb at the trio of girls across the table that had gone back to eating from a
bowl of grapes and talking in another language he didn’t speak.

Harry brushed his newly shortened, and consequently now more messy, black hair
from over his eyes and tucked it back past his ears, wishing internally that
Trude had at least had the presence of mind to trim his bangs. However they
were interrupted before he could ask any questions. “Awe, aren’t they cute,” a
bubbly and familiar voice asked, “Already getting along and everything!”
Tonks’s voice came from behind him. "We'll see how long they can keep that up,
won't we Penny?" He heard the curvy shape-shifter mutter to her companion much
more quietly. 

He spun in response, in time with a suddenly quite disgruntled looking
Hermione, to see Tonks standing tall behind close them. Now dressed in a set of
less obvious, but still glaringly butter toned robes.

The teen fondled a wedge of cheese on the table idly, while Penny swooped up
behind the curvier teen with her hands on her hips. “Not giving them any ideas
I should hope?” The younger of the pair asked through gritted teeth.

Tonks didn't respond verbally, and just gave her a lazy grin in reply.

Harry thought the older of their Esquires was going to leave it at that, but he
was thankfully disappointed.

Penny gave the grinning older teen a distinctly distrustful stare. Then the
slender teen turned back and started yelling at a pair of boys at a nearby
table, who might have been Ron and Rachel’s older brothers by the look of them,
who had been readying some sort fireworks a little too obviously for their own
good.

The color changing teen just held a finger to her lips, grinning like a loon,
and winking at all the prying eyes at their table who had stopped their
feasting to watch the attractive teen's antics.

Tonks carefully slid a hand onto her companions shoulder, then she quickly spun
Penny around and proceeded to use her tongue to clean the back of the other
girl’s mouth out. The taller teen held the squirming younger girl in a deep
kiss for nearly a full five seconds, before detaching their connected mouths
with an audible pop.

Penny shuddered as they detached, moaning and stared glassy eyed for a moment,
her gaze focusing on the string of saliva still connecting her open mouth with
her companions grinning lips.

Then she seemed to remember where they where and who was watching. “Tonks you
ass!” The brunette hissed in displeasure, her brown eyes flicking nervously to
the tables around them while her skin flushed hot with embarrassment.

Harry noticed that no one around them seemed at all unperturbed by the sudden
display, or to even have noticed at all. Other than Hermione and a few first-
years, who he assumed must have been from the Abrahamic nations, or other lands
where such displays were more taboo.

Tonks turned back to them with a flourish, wrapping her arm around the waist of
a still sputtering Penny. “First thing you kids get to learn tonight, is that
that kind of stuff is to be expected for the likes of us.” She gave their table
a rather hungry grin. “But we’ll tell you guys that don't know about that stuff
the important details after the feast.” She finished and licked Penny's ear,
before leading the blushing younger teen away with a declaration about getting
herself another pint of ale.

It turned out that after that display, the rest of the feast wasn’t actually
all that interesting. With Draco pouting in embarrassment, Hermione still in
wide-eyed in shock and muttering to herself, he was more or less left with a
slightly pudgy boy named Neville to talk to.

While the other boy certainly tried to add something to the conversation, the
Patil twins seemed to be content to heckle the other boy with innuendos,
interrupting them playfully between quick bites of theirn food. Something made
easier for them by the fact that there was two of them and only one Neville.

Ultimately he spent most of the feast... well feasting, the food had been even
better than he expected, and he could listen to the various bards around them
singing relaxing tales of magic and adventure while he enjoyed his second plate
of various cheeses and meats.

The ham turned out to be simply unbelievable. As juicy as it looked, it tasted
both smoky and salty, and was generously drizzled in honey. He wouldn’t soon
forget that particular combination of flavors.

After he finally couldn’t eat any more, even with the help of his own
notoriously huge appetite, he leaned back slightly on the bench to relax. An
action, he noted idly, which seemed oddly in time with the rest of the people
in the gigantic hall.

Dumbledore stood again at that, probably to give everyone another speech, and
Harry found himself musing over his thoughts on the man who he had been
training all his life to fight for.

He knew already, that if he had never been impressed before, this would be the
time to be awed. The castle itself, the feast that had had been absolutely
massive, they all were part of a display of  power and opulence that even he
could recognize easily despite being mostly untrained in such things.

His magic felt to Harry almost like the sun itself when he focused on it. With
a brilliant power washing off of his massive core in waves, that seemed to bend
reality itself, giving his visage an actual sort-of glow that was almost off-
putting in its strength as it haloed around his form.

The physical man himself was almost equally impressive.

To the naked eyes he gave the impression of an old power. His electric blue
robes dazzled the eyes, as did the golden laurel on his head as it sparkled in
the light. His staff, a smooth flowing design which looked to be made of solid
gold, was gripped firmly in hand but it  was not leaned against.

It was a tool and a symbol of his power and authority, not some mere crutch for
an ailing old man.

He still stood tall despite the fact that he was wrinkled and grayed, stroking
his long thin beard as he smiled contemplatively. Dumbledore did not seem weak
in the slightest, and his voice boomed easily across the strange room. “Now I
know you all must be eager to continue the night,”’ he said quietly, despite
the echoes that resounded across the hall, “but if you’ll allow me just a
moment to get some formalities out of the way first we can all be on our way.”

“First off, I would like to remind everyone that the forests beyond the outer
walls are, as their name suggests, forbidden to all students or staff without
proper permissions.” His glasses swept the room, and the two boys Penny had
been yelling at earlier gave him a wave as his gaze passed them by.

Dumbledore chuckled at their antics. “As for the second point, I cannot stress
enough that fights and duels should be confined inside the areas of the castle
actually reinforced against such things. That goes double for any magical
shenanigans.” His bushy eyebrows wiggled as he spoke. "I know everyone is
excited for the new term, but Filch has already been piling my desk
with reports of chaos."

“The third and final message I feel important enough to impart to you all
tonight, is that the third floor library on the third tier is strictly
forbidden.” His voice was suddenly much more serious. “Terrible danger awaits
any who would venture there, and I would advise everyone to wait for the staff
to clear it out before making any attempts to enter, whether through subterfuge
or other means…”

His visage brightened immediately after finishing that part of the statement,
and so too did the whole room. “Now that that dreary business is over I would
like to wish everyone a good night, and a grand new term here at Hogwarts
school of Witchcraft and Wizardry!”

It seemed like that was the call for everyone to leave, or at least the new
students, as Tonks and Penny were suddenly somehow at their table again.
“Alright you brats,” Penny growled out while shooting a glare at Tonks, who
just smiled at the ceiling in false obliviousness, “it’s time to head to the
dormitory.”

“Yeah, you lot need a bath!” Tonks grinned, holding her nose and waving away
imaginary scents to giggles of most of the nearby students.

“But they get to stay.” Pansy whined in protest as everyone started standing,
pointing to the older students who had taken to lounging and idle conversation
as the staff and new students trickled out.

Penny just raised an eyebrow at that. “Don’t even remind me…” The younger of
the two teens growled in an annoyed tone, motioning for the students who formed
their party to clump up so that they could exit the hall.

What followed was quite a long walk to the dormitory. A large portion of which
Harry spent trying to reign in twin, as Violet had decided to go looking for
their suddenly absent dragon, using only the barest hints of his magic.

It was a difficult task, made all the harder by his urge to stop and gawk at
literally everything around them. The castle was unspeakably opulent, with
thick carpets and endlessly shifting tapestries that glowed in the light of oil
fixtures that lit up as their group passed by, even the quality of the
stonework was noticeable.

But as they passed out onto an open aired bridge, he suddenly found himself
inexplicably lost in the sky. It was powerfully colored, with deep reds and
purples mixing wildly across the endless expanse of Asgard's canvass.

It reminded him of the skies above the seas, and of his home on their shores in
Shetland.

Harry forced his limbs into motion again, his core warning him of his twin’s
wanderings, but as he moved he found himself bumping into a slightly taller
frame and a thick barrier made of bushy brown hair.

The feeling of contact was powerfully intense. Almost like his first few unions
with Violet, or his convergence with Dior had been the night before. He nearly
recoiled at the sensation, nearly at a loss for breath, and it made him
suddenly wonder why he hadn’t tried to touch more girls than he had so far.

“ω Θεέ μου!” Hermione squeaked in shock at his contact, clearly having been
caught up in a similar sort of emotion at the sight of the sky that he had
been.

And now she was standing there blushing fiercely, looking at him like she had
no idea what had just happened to them. Not that Harry really knew either.
“Sorry…” She trailed off awkwardly in her accented English, pulling her younger
sister close, and closing her cloak further.

Harry nodded back to her and hoped his own flush wasn't to obvious, suddenly
wishing inside that she would open her cloak instead of closing it. He could
feel his blood shifting to other parts of his body, reacting to his magic as as
the frizzy-haired girl's core gusted and swirled around at the stimulus their
accidental contact had provided.

There was an actual flash of light as their cores connected again, completely
involuntarily of both of their wills, and then suddenly Tonks was there between
the two of them with her staff crackling. “Well aren’t you two little love
birds eager.” She teased them salaciously, a tremendously amused grin on her
face, as Harry realized he no longer could feel Hermione's core past the wall
of invisible magic the teen had erected between them.

“And we haven’t even gotten to the dorms yet, can you believe it Penny!” She
teased the shorter brunette teen in a loud whisper. “These two are already
getting started, and we haven’t even had time to explain the basic techniques.”
She continued to whisper loudly, grinning as both of her charges blushed
fantastically at her innuendo.

Hermione blushed fantastically, the reddening skin hiding the dusting of
freckles across her nose. “You can’t be serious!” She gasped in shock, and
Harry thought she looked scandalized.

“She isn’t…” Penny trailed off in reply, giving the girl a nervous look, “least
not yet.”

“YE-urk” Whatever Hermione was about to say was cut off as their changeling
"mentor" put her into a headlock.

“Now, now good Christian,” She grinned down in a tone that was more amused that
apologetic, “No one’s gonna make you do something you don’t want… with a few
possible exceptions of course.”

Penny grumbled. “Which we will go over, once we get to the dorm… though, I
suppose it’s more of an ‘if we ever get there’ at this rate.”

Tonks just laughed at the teen's complaining, and released Hermione, who
growled up at her traitorously. “I swear to God! Why are you people all are so
indecent?” The brunette whined as they began walking again.

“It’s really not that bad Hermione.” Neville interjected, trying to calm to
calm the frizzy girl down. “You’ll get used to it.”

The Indian trio just giggled at him. “I’ve never met a person who’s embarrassed
to be naked before.” Nimmi chirped out happily.

“You guys are all so weird.” Melody groaned, with more than a slight slur
noticeable in her high-pitched voice, which seemed to remind Hermione of her
own obligations.

“And you with your drinking!” She grabbed the smaller girl by the ear and
dragged her after their teenage guides. “I ought to spank you're butt till you
can’t sit down.”

He felt a presence nearby, and he turned to see Draco and Ron standing side by
side, not arguing or threating each other, just staring after the angry
brunette.

“Well Potter old chap, I leave that one to you…” Draco said haughtily, wiggling
his eyebrows in amusement as Harry shot him a glare, and making Pansy and Dior
both roll their eyes at them.

Ron, on the other hand, gulped audibly as the pair walked away. “You don’t
think she really means that do you Malfoy?” The redhead questioned
apprehensively, gripping the hand of his staff and eyeing his surroundings
cautiously.

Not cautiously enough to see his own twin right behind him. “Oh for the love
of… She isn’t mom you mope.” The wiry girl soothed, rolling her eyes at her
brother's question none the less.

The two traded a look of shared suffering, and Harry was suddenly reminded that
he hadn’t seen is own twin in almost five minutes of walking... which was
undoubtedly a bad sign.

“Shit!” He turned to Dior. “Have you seen Violet?”

The aristocratic blonde shrugged. “She said she was going to look for your
guys’ drake.”

She clearly didn’t understand. They didn’t understand that Violet without
supervision was bound to get up to all sorts of trouble. And that was before
she had gained access to a city-sized magic castle and an acid spitting drake.

He knew he needed to go look for her, so he pushed his way up to the front of
the group. Just as he was about to ask them, Tonks and Penny turned around and
pointed to an old looking fountain.

“This, my dear protégées is the entrance to Dormitory Cricket! This is where
most of you will be spending most of this year!”

“It looks like a fountain?” One of the girls nearby said, crossing her arms and
giving the stonework an unimpressed look.

Indeed, as far as Harry could tell it was just an empty fountain, sitting in
the center of a small atrium where several hallways came together, and it
wasn't an even a very elaborately decorated one at that.

Penny grinned at that. A small and secret grin, but it was there none the less.
She tapped the fountain with her wand and it slid off to the side, revealing a
closely twisting staircase in the floor.

“Tonks listen-” He tried to warn the teen as they were led down, but she just
brushed him onto the staircase with the rest of the students.

“Come on in everyone.” He heard Penny say over the sound of the fountain
grinding closed above them. “Now we can-” There was an awkward pause. “How on
earth did you get in here?” He heard the younger teen ask in shock as he
reached the bottom of the staircase.

When he brushed through the crowd he saw his sister was stroking George’s
scutes, lazing on a pillow and glaring at them. “How did you guys find this
place?” She shot back, pouting angrily with her hands on her skinny little
hips. “This was gonna be my secret hideout.”

Harry had no real idea how to think about that idea, he was still annoyed by
her wandering off after he had told her specifically not to. So he decided to
stay quiet, simply giving her a warning look, which she ignored with a feral
grin that she pretended to shoot at their group.

He could feel an almost haughtiness to her magic, as he reached out to her with
his own in quiet in disapproval. She merely continued grinning at them
wickedly, while Tonks and Penny shared a look asking each other how on earth
she had managed to arrive before them.

“Ok whatever!” Penny shouted, giving up as Tonks shrugged nonchalantly,
“Everyone take a good look around, because this is your new home for the
foreseeable future.”

“This doesn’t make sense.” He heard Hermione groaning in confusion from nearby,
as they all started to take in their surroundings. “We didn’t even go that far
down! How can this room possibly have a vaulted ceiling?” She pleaded with no
one in particular.

It did have a rather impressive ceiling, made of thousand of little clear glass
triangles, that let in the last light of the dying sun and threw a strange
pattern of light on the whole room.

The chamber was dominated by the fifty-foot tall, wooden tower that took up
most of the room’s center. It was vaguely tree-shaped, with a thin spiral of
guard-less flying stairs leading to a hatch in the the top platform, which
looked to be about thirty feet across, and was speckled with fake fabric leaves
attached to the guardrail of the platform. 

“This,” Tonks said, leaning against one of the staircase slats sticking from
the wooden tower, “is where the boys and any twins will sleep.”

She gestured grandly to the large rest of the seventy foot wide room, and all
of the piles of pillows and blankets strewn across the uneven floor. “The girls
will sleep down here.” She winked at everyone. “So the lads can get a good look
at you. They have to see the goods in action-” Penny cut off whatever
suggestive thing the older teen was about to say when she slapped it over the
shape changers mouth.

Penny gave her fellow Esquire an annoyed look, before turning back to their
group. “My friend’s idiotic ramblings reminded me about what we were actually
supposed to finish explaining earlier, so everyone gather around so I can
finish tonight's education.”

“Save all your questions for later. And if you already know this stuff, please
stay quiet so that others can hear me.” She instructed as Tonks flopped down
across the first five slats in the staircase.

Penny sat down next to her on the steps of the tower, motioning to the floor
before her. So Harry grabbed his sister by the wrist, and forced her to follow
the other children to the spot on the thickly, carpeted and padded floor that
the younger teen had indicated.

As everyone got themselves more comfortable, they started. “Alright, as you
probably already noticed. There are a lot more witches than there are wizards.
That trend has a lot to do with both ancient and more recent history and so
I'll try not to bore you with the gritty details, that’s Binns’ job.”

Tonks picked up for her. “Suffice to say that the standard family structure for
us is different than that of the mundane. We call it the Coven and there is a
decent amount different from the polygamous practices of the muggles. It could
be best described a collection of females, bonded to a single wizard. There are
a large number of different bonds that a witch or wizard can form that can help
constitute a Coven,” She grinned again, “but the most obvious is the mating
bond which is formed when you have sex with a boy for the first time.” She
finished in a blatantly suggestive manner.

“But it is entirely possible to form one of the other so-called "Coven Bonds",
and those can easily form a coven even if you don’t actually want it to. That
means be careful of what you stick your dicks into, and what you do around
here, if you don’t know how to control your magic.” Penny finished
exasperatedly, shifting slightly and punching Tonks in the shoulder.

He glanced at Hermione, and realized that she was eyeing him in the same
breath. Had they almost bonded earlier, did Tonks save them from an accident
like that?

The brunette continued as they glanced at each other. “You will actually have a
class about this tomorrow, so we don’t need to go into too much depth now. But
there are a few things we need to cover besides the obvious sex one.”

“But for tonight’s purposes, I should only really only need to go over two
other bonds. The first is what is what is called the Life Bond, it
certainly shouldn't be an issue for any of you guys anytime soon, as it forms
when you save someone’s life from certain death outside of an actual
battlefield.” The younger teen explained, a uncertain look flashing quickly
across her soft features. 

Penny sighed explosively as she continued. “This is possibly the most serious
bond you can end up in, as it can only be broken by returning the favor, and
because it makes you and everything in your possession a possession of the one
who saved your life.”

Tonks slid up from laying back beside her, and wrapped her arms around the
younger teen's waist, pulling Penny into her lap and nuzzling her brown hair
affectionately. “It’s how I ended up stuck with doofus here.” She jabbed her
finger back at Tonks, who turned her hair crimson, and laid her chin on top of
the shorter girls head.

“Admit it, I’ve grown on you Penelope.” The shape-changer challenged.
Penny rolled her eyes, but he could see that she was fighting back a pleased
little smile, as the older teen squeezed her possessively. “Like mold on cheese
maybe.”
Tonks squeezed her harder, in a big hug that rapidly shifted as the older
teen's hands started wandering. “Awe, someone’s in love!”
“Tonks not now!” She growled up warning, flushing again as the older teen
started groping her breasts playfully through her robe.

But they were interrupted before either could go further. “So wait, if you’re
both girls how does that work out?” An southern-looking girl asked the question
everyone else in the group was thinking.

The changeling grinned down at them lecherously. “You lot will get to find out
in just a couple of minutes.” She said, wiggling her eyebrows and flashing her
hair through several different colors.

Penny, having managed to untangle herself from Tonks’s affection, answered
them. “She is a metamorphagus. It means that she can change her shape, and yes,
that's including that shape.” She blushed a little at that, but then continued
undaunted. “The other bond that were required to tell you about tonight is the
conquest bond.”

“This bond is one that is formed by a girl losing a fight against a suitor. It
doesn’t form under all circumstances, he has to actually challenge your core to
start the ritual and you have to lose for the bond to form.”

Both Penny and Tonks gave them slightly more serious looks. “It is important
that you remember that no one can force you to accept this kind of fight, but
if you lose it, you lose your freedom in essentially the same manner as the
Life Bond.” Penny finished, wagging a finger at them in a warning manner.
"Which is why it's called the Conquest Bond."

The two shared a look, then Tonks gave her an amused grin. “Alright, let’s get
this show on the road..” The thin brunette said, with an almost resigned sigh,
despite the smile that still lingered on her face.

Tonks whooped, and jumped up. “Listen up you little hellions!” She shouted
excitedly. “It’s time for my favorite part of the first day." Her face split
into the widest grin he had seen her wear yet. “Bath time…”

The way she said it was absolutely ominous, and Harry felt a sudden lump
forming in his gut. The kind he usually got right before something incredibly
embarrassing happened.

“Bath…” Neville gulped out, looking nervous.

Tonks giggled at the reaction of the group, then raised her arm and gave the
pit of her robe a deep smell, which made her grimaced slightly despite herself.
“Ok, we should get going.”
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Ok so fuck… day one is still rolling.

But I wanted to get this baby out for you guys sooner than later, so the rest
of the day will be finished in the next chapter. Mostly because the time I will
have to write in the next few months will be limited.

Also and more importantly, next chapter is where I get to write the real lewd.
***** Baths that make you Dirtier *****
I will start chapter 7 by thanking everyone has read or reviewed the previous
chapters. I love knowing that people actually find my stuff interesting.
 
Also, I do apologies for this taking longer than I wanted, this chapter is
pretty dense with details that will probably be important later and a Lemon.
 
And besides, I live in America, and our past few months have been fucking
insane regardless of which side of the political spectrum you fall on.
 
But America doesn’t exist in this version of the world of Harry Potter, and you
are all probably as sick of politics as I am after the past couple of months…
ok maybe not all of you, but regardless.
 
Here is the next chapter of Harry Potter and the Energumen of the Elchee!
 
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There were a thousand things Harry could have said about their bath, but the
chief thought in his mind was that they, like almost everything at Hogwarts so
far, were almost unbelievably opulent.
 
Little cubes of glowing glass imbedded in the frescos in the walls, like sparks
of captured sunlight, illuminated a massive pool of foamy water at least a
hundred feet long and half as wide flanked by a dozen thick pillars of marble
that held up the ceiling, ending with a waterfall that poured from a slot in
the curved back wall..
 
It was a luxurious room, not as overwhelming or alien as the Great Hall or the
castle as a whole, which Harry had still not fully processed. But considering
that he had spent most of his life bathing in rivers or the tub Vernon kept in
the keep, it was beyond what he had imagined he would ever need to be
available.
 
“It’s a bit much, I know the feeling….” Penny clapped him on the shoulder,
having taken a break from yelling at everyone about proper bathing techniques
to smile down at him warmly. “But you’ll have to share it with everyone else,
so there is that.”
 
His twin, Violet gave the teen a blank stare. “I’ve never seen a bath so big!”
The blank stare turned into something devious. “Not even the bathhouse in
Shetland was half this size.”
 
Penny nodded in affirmation. “Dumbledore likes to keep his servants
comfortable…” She trailed off contentedly. Slipping her robes off as Harry and
his twin doffed their cloaks with the rest of the students.
 
It was a nice bit of assurance, and Harry decided that it was the crux of the
matter, that final piece that made the last few days make sense. Harry’s liege
doing what a wise king did, providing reasons for those who he wanted to be
loyal to remain close.
 
The thought filled him with a renewed confidence in his purpose, and Harry
found a tension he hadn’t even known had been there melting out of him as he
wandered over to the shelf of baskets where towels and soaps were kept.
 
He couldn’t complain about the view either, as Penny started stripping her
undergarments.
 
Harry figured that it would be almost refreshing to be able to relax for a good
long while. Uncle Vernon had spent almost the entirety of his niece and
nephew’s lives training them for their service, every moment of training he
could squeeze out of them without them running off to the woods or cliffs at
any rate, and it seemed that for the moment that the training would continue.
He would just have more luxuries in his more substantial down time.
 
Not that spending his free time with Violet wasn’t fun in itself, and the extra
benefits had certainly had proved their worth over the past few months, but he
had a good feeling that meeting other people and doing new things would be at
least as fun.
 
And so far it had interesting, to say the very least.
 
Speaking of his twin, he still needed to figure out what specifically she had
been so mad about earlier, or maybe see if she could be talked into some more
private location where he could get the information out of her in a more
interesting manner…
 
For now though, he just wanted to have a nice relaxing bath.
 
As his tension continued melting, his core sent a spark at him. It hit him an
instant too late for him to avoid Violet’s vengeful tackle.
 
Thankfully, it did give him enough time to twist, and so they didn’t tumble
into the foamy water like his twin likely intended.
 
On the other hand, her tackle came at just the right moment for Harry to end up
knocking over Tonks and planting himself face-first into the cheeks of her very
well shaped, and now very naked bum…
 
It was quite musty he decided, having knocked the older teen onto her stomach.
A second or so later he realized that her butt wasn’t the only large, sweaty,
and well-rounded thing his nose was buried in.
 
Tonks flipped over onto her back, swinging her leg over his head and Harry felt
something very hot, slightly moist, and quite long, flop itself on top of his
head with a weighty smack.
 
His first thought, was back to the encounter with Dior the night before, and
the now faded mark he had left on her cheek.
 
Then there came was a throaty chuckle from above him, and the member that had
been lying across the crown of his head was shifted.
 
A now naked Violet planted herself into a sitting position on the small of his
back and grasped the older teen’s member, which Harry decided had to be nearly
eight inches long, holding it off his head with her slightly callused hand.
 
He would have said that he found the fact that he could feel his twin’s slit
starting to drool onto the bare part of his back a little less than reassuring
to his sense of personal masculinity. But that was probably one of those things
that went without needing words.
 
“Well you can count me impressed sis.” His twin said to Tonk’s in an awed and
increasingly lecherous voice.
 
Harry lifted his head so his nose was no longer nestled in the pouch of her
sweaty testicles, hoping he wasn’t as red as he felt. Draco was staring over at
them with his jaw nearly resting on the ground, Pansy standing next to him with
her head in her hands.
 
Dior, on the other hand was giving Tonks a look that was somewhere between
impressed and intimidated, and he could see her neck work as she swallowed
hard.
 
Ron, on the other hand, grinned at them and took the opportunity to get a shot
in, having already slipped into the water. “I’ll admit that I didn’t take you
for a poofter Harry.” The leggy redheaded boy mocked in a lazy drawl, amusement
oozing from his lips and with a smirk on his face.
 
Harry was about to shoot back, but his newly formed apprentice bond with Tonks
flickered, and a sense of amusement seemed to grow as the teen slid her hands
up, and presumably under his sister’s arms.
 
Harry looked up to see the older teen with an almost loving smile on her face,
which turned into a victorious grin as Tonks chucked his sister through the air
and into the foamy pool.
 
Ron squawked and dove out of the way, Violet was so taken by surprise that she
didn’t even make a sound, until she burst through foam a second later and
screamed dramatically to the gods. “Why does that keep happing to me?”
 
Tonks chucked and stood swiftly in her victory, a sarcastic reply to his twin’s
melodramatic display on her lips… but she rose too quickly, and Harry got the
chance to see the ball of her foot start to slip in real time while he knelt on
the tile.
 
It was moments like this, that Harry actually appreciated all the training that
his uncle had given him. The increased reflexes in particular were the part he
was feeling the most appreciation for in that instant.
 
Because when the teen flipped back into the water, he dodged her, and her foot
merely missed his face by a few inches instead of knocking all of his teeth
out.
 
“Oh, good grief…” Penny started shouting at the large hole in the suds.” Be
more careful you klutz.” The younger, and now very naked teen growled under her
breath as marched over.
 
As Harry rushed to stand, fresh annoyance sparked across his bond with Violet,
while the newer one with Tonks shimmered in amusement and it drew his gaze from
the bush at the junction of the younger Esquires legs.
 
A shimmering flower burst from the water in the form of Tonks’s hair, which
flashed through several colors as the shapely and athletic teen stood in the
shallow water and ground her fist into Violet tangled hair, while his twin
struggled to free her head which was trapped by the teen’s headlock
 
“Rarg!” His sister tried to shout, kicking hard enough that her legs burst
above the surface before Tonks dunked her back underneath the water.
 
Tonks just grinned again as she yanked the redhead back up. “You need to learn
a lesson; we can’t have you just running around grabbing bits that don’t belong
to you.” Her grin widened as his sister managed to extract herself and turned
to glare, sliding into a fighting stance.
 
“Oh, for the love of…” Penny rubbed the bridge of her nose as most of the other
students started slipping into the water. Then her shoulders loosened and she
waded into the water. “To Hell with it… I’m going to relax tonight if it’s the
last thing I do.”
 
Harry, deciding that Violet would eventually tire herself out, turned to see
who else had been gawking. Draco was standing nearby, blinking owlishly.
“Suddenly I have an inexplicable urge to buy an unreasonably large galley…” The
blonde boy trailed off, still blinking.
 
“Welcome to my world Malfoy.” Neville grumbled out sarcastically, barely paying
the chaos any attention as he pulled a brick-sized bar of soap from a bin.
 
“Really Draco, the difference isn’t that much.” Harry heard Pansy whisper to
her betrothed in reassurance.
 
His twin, on the other hand, didn’t seem to give a damn about her brother’s
sudden crisis of virility. “Pansy, it was at least seven inches long, as thick
as my wrist, and it was only at half-mast… I don’t know whether I pity Esquire
Penny or if I’m jealous.” Dior said aloud, with a hungry smirk on her face.
 
Hermione, now undressed but still trying to shepherd her intoxicated younger
sister, piped in from behind them. “We’ll I for one think its grotesque!” The
girl commented briskly, and Harry could feel her using little bursts of magic
in an attempt to get Melody to pay attention and undress.
 
Melody on the other hand was still staring at where Tonks and Violet were still
wrestling in the foam with glazed eyes and a massive flush across the entirety
of her exposed skin.
 
She looked absolutely adorable in Harry’s opinion; clearly her proper first
look at a masculine organ had been quite the shock.
 
Not that he really blamed her, but Harry had also remembered that Tonks was a
woman in actuality, and had presumably used her shape-shifting to make an organ
of such unnecessarily impressive size.
 
At least that was what he told himself… No reason to feel intimidated by
someone who was only a man part of the time anyway.
 
“Admitting to liking little boys isn’t something I would have done, but I guess
they do things different in Greece.” Ron’s sister snipped lazily, with an
almost playful grin on her face, breaking Harry out of his thoughts.
 
Hermione brushed her now nude servant behind her. “Say that again you- you…!”
The brunette hissed out, stamping her feet on the tile, and Harry could feel
her core flicker and crackle in anger.
 
It was strong enough for Draco and his sister to seemingly involuntarily step
closer to where Gregory and Goyle were already lounging in the pool of water.
 
Then the feeling came back to him at once, the inexplicable urge to experience
the sensation he had felt with the frizzy haired Greek earlier on the bridge
again.
 
If they had been alone, Harry was unsure what he would have done... it was
probably fortunate that there were plenty of other people the buildup had
caught the attention of. This included Tonks, who had stopped wrestling to
stare with Violet, and Penny who was openly glaring at the two girls standing
off by the pool.
 
Then there was an instant, where from Penny he felt the same sort of power he
had when she had tossed Violet and Rachel into the air earlier that day. This
time however, instead of a flicker, it was like being seized by a wave. Before
he knew what was happening, he had been ripped from his feet and was flying
through the air. He went over the student filled foam and then he slammed into
hot water.
 
There was the instant where he felt like he was burning, before his skin
adapted to the temperature. He could feel the stress and anxiety drain from his
body like a physical thing, so he relaxed in the water for a moment, mentally
figuring that a rinse was probably in order anyway.
 
Harry sat like that for a few more seconds, enjoying the warmth before he
righted himself beneath the water, feeling the bottom glance on the very tips
of his toes as he pushed off, bursting through what felt like a foot of foam to
the surface.
 
“-ust yanking people like that Penny! What would Minnie say?” He could hear
Tonks asking sarcastically from somewhere nearby.
 
“I am going to relax tonight if it kills someone.” There was a silence as Harry
worked his way towards their voices, and presumably shallower water. “And I
said everyone was getting a bath tonight earlier, didn’t I?”
 
Finally he reached a point where his feet were planted firmly on the bottom,
and a moment later a very haggard looking Draco pushed the foam from between
them apart and started looking around in a confused manner. His oily core
flickering to his twin, and Harry followed the connection to only a few feet to
his left.
 
“Dior,” Draco called out into the wall of foam, “do you see Pansy?” He asked,
running a hand though his wet hair in exasperation.
 
The girl in question burst from the water between them with a grin on her face.
“Nope, I think she hit the water somewhere near Goyle and Gregory though.” She
said, pointing a slender arm back towards the deeper water.
 
Draco lunged into the suds in a breaststroke, swimming off into deeper water.
Harry brushed his hair off of his face and took a deep breath of the lavender-
scented air, raising an eyebrow while Dior gave him a silly grin. “You look a
little out of place Potter. You ever been in a bath this nice before?”
 
Harry shrugged, too relaxed to really feel out of place. “No, I can’t say that
I have.”
 
“You should visit our father’s castle some time.” She said with a casual wave
towards where Draco had rushed off. “The baths there are actually nicer than
this one.”
 
That peaked Harry’s interest a little. “Really?”
 
She nodded, swiping her long wet hair behind her head. “Our father takes
hygiene quite seriously.”
 
Harry nodded. He had garnered that fact just from the very first look he had
gotten at the two of them. The two seemed like the kind of people who took a
great amount of pride in their appearance, the kind of people Vernon had told
him were normally diplomats. And he remembered it being mentioned at one point
that Mr. Malfoy had quite an important job, though the exact details escaped
him at the moment.
 
Then he noticed Dior giving the foam around them suspicious looks. Harry felt
her core pulse, not enough that anyone who wasn’t paying close attention would
notice, but enough to give her a decent idea of who was around.
 
She took another step closer to him and grasped his arm, pulling him into
slightly deeper water, until just their heads were above the steaming surface.
The Dior gave him a devious grin and stepped closer, intertwining their legs so
that they were nearly flush together and she could whisper in his ear. “Did you
get a good look at the esquires… member?” She drew the last word out in a
manner that made it impossible for her to be talking about anything else.
 
It was a remarkably dumb question, he had literally had his nose in it, but of
course he wasn’t going to say that. “Of course I saw it Dior. What do you think
I was doing down there? Planting roses?” He whispered back half-jokingly, as he
wrapped his arms around her slender waist.
 
He couldn’t see her face but she gave a quiet chuckle. “Most boys would have
closed their eyes?” She said in an obviously questioning manner.
 
Now it was Harry’s turn to chuckle. “I see no reason to be intimidated by a
female shape-shifter’s penis.” He put emphasis where he figured it needed to be
and was rewarded with another chuckle and a more lusty pulse from Dior’s core.
 
“I won’t lie, it made me hot.” Her legs intertwined closer with his and Harry
could feel himself starting to stand to attention as her sex started grinding
at his. “Hot and needy…”
 
Harry had gotten the feeling that she liked a little roughhousing from earlier,
and that made him curious. “Tonks, or Penny?” He asked, in only a slightly
teasing manner, distinctly aware that Draco could return with Pansy any moment
but not wanting to give up the new physical contact just yet.
 
“Both!” The aristocratic blond moaned quietly into his ear and Harry moved to
cup her butt and pull her closer, but a splash nearby caused her to untangle
from him in a smooth motion, and she slid beneath the steamy water with a
secretive grin.
 
Out from one of the piles of suds emerged Hermione, her younger sister/servant
wrapped around her neck to stay afloat.
 
“Oh, it’s you!” The girl said, giving him a frustrated look. “You wouldn’t
happen to know where Tonks or Penny are would you?” She asked as she went
slashing at the mounds of fragrant bubbles, which seemed to just pile up higher
as if to mock her efforts.
 
Harry shrugged and gestured in the general direction he had heard them
conversing earlier. “That way I think, why?”
 
Hermione harrumphed, clearly annoyed. “She forgot that my sister was drunk when
she decided to throw us all in the bath, and I am going to give her a piece of
my mind!”
 
The way she had growled out the sentence would have made him nervous, if it
wasn’t for Penny’s casual defeat of both his own sister and Hermione already.
“You might want to reconsider that, she didn’t sound in the mood for an
argument.” Hermione was powerful, but not much stronger than Violet. She was
also at least three full years younger than Penny, which meant that she had at
least three years of education less.
 
The girl seemed to pause at that, maybe remembering how easy the teen had been
able to toss her into the water in the first place. Her brow furrowed as she
shifted her stance and readjusted Melody, who groaned as she was shifted and
gave Harry a drunken, almost conspiratorial grin.
 
“Maybe get her out of the water before the alcohol catches up to her.” He
advised as they slowly walked towards the shallower water, where he had heard
Tonks and Penny earlier.
 
The Byzantine girl snorted. “You mean to a bucket right?” She asked
sarcastically, stopping to turn to face them now that they were in shallower
water.
 
Harry just shrugged, while her little sister giggled. Melody reached out to
adjust her grip around her sister’s shoulders, but ending up groping at her
older sisters chest instead.
 
Hermione’s brain seemed to stop working for a moment. Her core sending out
helpless little flickers as Melody used her, barely developing breasts as
handholds.
 
For Harry’s part, much the same was true. There was a split second when his
thoughts went back to the grin the younger girl had given him earlier, but the
thoughts were quickly banished as the preteen continued groping under the
pretext of readjusting her grip.
 
Embarrassment, anger, helplessness, shame and a tiny hit of something she
wouldn’t have been able to identify but Harry knew was arousal, rippled through
Hermione’s magic.
 
She worked her jaw, as Melody went back to relaxing around her neck. Grinning
at him smugly and Harry realized a moment too late that he should have looked
away.
 
“Did you get a good look?” The frizzy-haired brunette hissed as him, coming as
close as she dared and making both their cores crackle like some magical form
of lodestone attraction. “Do my breasts amuse you?”
 
Harry thought fast… looking for a way out of the situation that wouldn’t get
him in trouble. He noticed Melody suddenly turning a little less red, and a
little greener, and it hit him. “They were both quite lovely Hermione, but your
sister looks a little nauseous at the moment, why don’t we ask Tonks where the
bathroom is before she pukes in your hair?”
 
Hermione blinked owlishly, confused at the boldness of his reply for an instant
before shooting him a suspicious glance. “Then lead the way…” She growled out,
gesturing to the foam with a free arm. “But don’t be trying any funny
business.”
 
Finding Penny, at the very least, turned out to be easier than expected. The
brown haired teen was lolling in the shallow end, watching Padma and Parvati
mess around in the little artificial waterfall.
 
“This better be good.” The younger Esquire said irritably as they approached.
 
It was actually interesting to watch the way Hermione reacted to the Esquire.
The girl seemed suddenly empty of all the embarrassment and anger from before,
her face the very picture of respect for authority.
 
Her core had changed as well, instead of the barely restrained lashing; it
flickered and curled back on itself submissively.
 
That was certainly interesting, and he mentally filed that tidbit in the back
of his mind for later, while Penny explained how to get to the toilets.
 
Getting to where the bathroom was proved to be easy as well, as they were
located merely halfway back to the main room. Getting them open however, was
proving to be more difficult.
 
The main issue was that, like the entrance to their dorm or the mysterious
doorway on the outer-wall, the bathroom wasn’t simply a door.
 
“Why doesn’t this stupid thing work!” The brunette growled in frustration,
trying to hold up her sibling, dry herself with her towel, and work her new
short-staff at once.
 
As soon as they had left Penny’s presence, the girl’s annoyance had returned in
full force, though thankfully without the accompanying anger.
 
Harry was glad of that, as he warily glanced up and down the hallway, he could
talk his way around her frustration easily enough. That didn’t mean he was
going to ignore the opportunity to take the occasional peek, but he tried to
make it as unobvious as possible.
 
She was certainly well developed for her age, not as willowy as Dior or as
lithe and muscular as Violet, but with the barest hint of pleasing curves that
drew his wandering eyes. Something Melody seemed to notice, and found as
amusing as a girl looking like she was seconds away from puking could. If the
sickly grin she shot him was anything to go by.
 
If he didn’t know better, Harry would have thought the little minx was trying
to bait him with some silent form of permission.
 
Hermione however, had finally calmed down from earlier. And he told himself
that he felt no desire to make her angry again. It was a decision he made
despite the familiar flickering at the edge of his mind that he knew came from
his core.
 
It was the desire to challenge her if she wouldn’t submit.
 
Of course Harry had a very good general idea where the sensation came from.
There were only a couple people in their group that could honestly say that
they had cores as large as the one he and Violet sported. Hermione was
definitely one of them.
 
That didn’t mean that now was the time for that though, Uncle Vernon didn’t
consider him the responsible one for no reason after all. “You have to flick
it.” Melody garbled, breaking her grin with him to lean her naked frame heavily
against the wall. “Like the lady said.”
 
Hermione didn’t seem to appreciate the advice. “Just please be quiet Melody!”
She hissed, finally tossing her towel onto the floor in frustration and simply
slamming her fist into the wall.
 
There was a burst of crackling magic. A flash that was invisible to the eye,
but easily felt across the skin and Harry felt the fine hairs rise across his
flesh.
 
It wasn’t the only thing that rose at the display of untrained power, and he
was suddenly immensely thankful that he was standing behind Hermione as the
slot in the wall seemed to shimmer into view.
 
The doorway was thin, and not set in at a straight angle, but cocked in a
manner that was slightly annoying to try and look at directly. It seemed to
make the wall appear to be angled impossibly.
 
It seemed to put Hermione off by that for a moment, and she stood glaring at
the threshold. “You go in first.” She turned to him and commanded, her magical
core crackling with a powerful, though probably subconscious, form of
compulsion.
 
Harry hadn’t been doing what Uncle Vernon had often called “Acting Out”
recently, but it had more to do with his desire to be cautious in an unfamiliar
place than anything else at the moment. On the other hand, that was pretty
clearly a challenge in his mind, and from someone strong enough for his magic
to see as a sort of equal.
 
He grinned and opened his mouth to reply, sliding his feet into a better stance
and feeling his magic begin to respond to his mixed excitement and ire
automatically. Before he could say anything however, the hallway back to the
dorms seemed to open up, a second group of students arriving led by a teen who
looked fourteen, and Harry figured that she was about Penny’s age maybe even
from the same former group.
 
She certainly didn’t look like Penny though. The teen was taller, thinner, and
completely shaven to reveal the full extent of her dark caramelized skin. The
older girl took one look at the three of them, standing naked outside the
bathroom, as her group stopped behind her and she grimaced. Her eyes closing in
frustration and revealing a pair of painted eyes on the lids. The teen’s core
rolled as she gave an irritated sigh, sliding a hand over her shaven head and
gritting her teeth in frustration.
 
Hermione’s core suddenly roared beside him, enough that Harry almost startled,
but he merely switched his stance so he was facing the newcomer.
 
His… acquaintance was less restrained. Growling at the apparent Esquire angrily
in a language he presumed was Greek or maybe Latin.
 
Harry had no idea who or what Hannibal was, or why the word seemed to be coming
up in her rant so much, but watching the girl work herself into a complete fury
over it was certainly interesting.
 
‘Maybe a little dangerous,’ he thought to himself, as her core seemed to expand
and Harry would have sworn the outline of her naked body briefly flickered,
‘but certainly interesting.’
 
They stood there for a moment, and he wondered of Hermione was going to attack
the girl with only her staff. But suddenly she seemed to deflate. Grabbing
Melody, who giggled drunkenly at the sensation of her sisters magically charged
touch, and dragged her through the threshold and into the toilets.
 
Harry waited a moment, watching the dark skinned teen roll her eyes at the
display. “So, any idea was that about?” He asked, not really expecting an
answer.
 
His question seemed to startle the bald teen out of her annoyance, and she
quickly snapped back to reality and fixed him with a haughty look. “Some people
just don’t know proper respect for their elders.” She said in a voice that was
as smooth as silk, grinning down at him with an challenging sort of look Harry
didn’t like in the least, before waving for her charges to keep walking.
 
He wasn’t really sure how to respond to that though, so after a moment he
nodded enough to acknowledge the teen’s status as presumable Esquire, and slid
in after Hermione. The other girl had seemed extremely agitated by the teen for
some inexplicable reason, and he was actually slightly worried about why.
 
She also had a fairly nice body for their age, but he reminded himself that he
was merely concerned for her emotional state as he went in after her.
 
The bathroom as it turned out, was much nicer than the toilets on the island
had been. A series of little rooms with unclosed doors, Hogwarts had plumbing
apparently.
 
Which he realized should have already been obvious, considering the baths and
the lavishness and sheer size of the castle in general. Dumbledore certainly
didn’t seem like the kind of person who would restrain himself in generosity
when he didn’t have to.
 
At least not at his own holding…
 
He found Hermione in the very last stall, holding Melody’s hair back while the
younger girl retched into the toilet.
 
She wasn’t vomiting naturally, he realized as soon as he slid up to the little
stall. Hermione’s core was periodically lashing through their bond and the
younger girl would retch again.
 
“If you had listened to me at dinner this wouldn’t be necessary,” Hermione
growled, in the same tone a caring but frustrated teacher might use. He
wondered if she even realized that she was the one causing the girl to vomit.
 
Harry was about to interject, though he wasn’t exactly sure what he was going
to say, when a needy pulse at his core commanded that he turn around and slide
away to give them some privacy.
 
‘Besides,’ he figured internally, ‘Hermione seems to have that in hand
anyways…’
 
He slid quietly back down the row of stalls, not really wanting to interrupt
the pair, and with the hope that he could get the drop on his sibling. However,
as he passed the first stall at the room’s end, a hand shot out and dragged him
inside.
 
He knew the instant the hand connected with his, that Violet had finally found
him alone. After a full day of their attentions elsewhere there was a physical
effect on contact, a kind of tingling numbness as her core sucked at his
ravenously.
 
Violet, however seemed to be making an effort to appear less desperate than her
magic implied, shooting him a heated stare as she quietly closed and latched
the door shut. “Not again!” She hissed throatily.
 
“Tonight you belong to me.”
 
“Vi-” She cut him off.
 
There was a heat in her voice, the kind that only came when she was feeling
selfish and possessive. “You slept with her.” She growled, there was no
question in his mind which her she was referencing.
 
Harry felt the magic rolling through him crackle angrily; reacting to an
accusation that they both knew was untrue, and would have been unwarranted even
if it had been. It made his reply colder and more forceful than he would have
wanted if he was thinking clearly.
 
“No I didn’t, and you know it!” He growled back at her, frustrated by her
reaction. This was what she had been mad about he realized internally, it was a
conclusion he probably should have come to sooner considering her reaction that
morning.
 
But it was too late now. Violet slid into a tackle and launched herself at him,
and they tumbled as she pressed him back against the wall. Both of them
grappled at each other’s naked bodies, sliding down the smooth stone until he
overpowered her again and she was pinned beside the wall.
 
“Maybe you shouldn’t have spent so much energy with Tonks …” He huffed
mockingly, slightly out of breath.
 
That was the wrong thing to say to deescalate the situation, and he knew it
before the words had passed his lips, but that didn’t change the fact that it
felt amazing to say.
 
His twin snapped at his throat, her teeth clicking hard against air as his head
jerked back. Their magic flared, spreading a tingling sensation across his
skin. Her legs bucked against the wall and Harry went flying, his grip on her
arms pulling her with him.
 
And suddenly he was the one pinned, and his twin was free to unleash the full
brunt of her core against his. Suddenly her grip, her very presence was like
touching the flame of a candle. It was the kind of sensation that was too
intense, but Harry pressed on anyway, driven forward by his sense of
competition and the melody his first bond with her. He hooked his legs around
her back, grinding their naked pelvises together as he swung his upper body at
her in a head-butt.
 
Violet dodged it with practiced ease, but the momentum still flung her back,
flat on her back and he swiftly switched to claim the spot on her stomach so he
was sitting on her pelvis.
 
From this position, he was back in familiar territory. He could use his weight
and slight advantage in upper body strength to keep her body pinned. “Damn it
Vi!” He gasped out breathlessly, blasting his magic into her hard, much harder
than he had done that morning in the tent. Watching as her thin body seize and
flush brilliantly at the sensation forced upon it, her breath catching in her
throat and her green eyes going crossed for a moment, before his twin finally
went limp with a confused whine.
 
A quick feel of their bond told them that he had essentially blasted the
thoughts from her mind, which meant that he had a moment. Then suddenly her
lower stomach seemed to deflate beneath him, and there was a hissing sound from
behind him. Harry didn’t risk the turn to look, and was just thankful that
there was a drain set into the floor of the stall and that he hadn’t hit her
harder.
 
He sat there, listing to both of their labored breathing and the hissing of his
twin urinating from magical overstimulation and his weight, as he gasped for
air. The empty seconds made him suddenly aware of his erection, burning hot as
it lay lazily across her taut stomach, its purple head having emerged from the
foreskin to drool a pool of precum into the indent of her bellybutton.
 
The sensation was almost like their first time all over again. His magic
crackled angrily in the background of his mind, demanding that he break her,
giving him an urge to pound her until she couldn’t walk far enough to exit the
bathroom without his aid.
 
It was the deep instinctual desire that wanted to remind her just who she had
submitted to, and upon who she was dependent.
 
While Harry wasn’t going to go that far, not while he was still mostly in
control of his higher mental faculties, at least at the moment. But he was
still going to make sure she remembered who their bond proved was the more
powerful.
 
Violet, for her part seemed to have deflated. Harry had been in situations
similar to this enough times with her to know that was never a guarantee of
anything. But he internally figured that after her tussle with Tonks earlier,
that she might actually be exhausted. It was that, or trying to resist the
blast of magic he had just hit her with had actually taken that much out of
her.
 
Whatever the case, it would just make this easier for him.
 
She offered him no resistance as he slowly loosened his grip on her wrists,
slowly reaching down under her armpits. Violet simply continued to stare at the
ceiling through her sweat-matted hair with a glazed and half-lidded look on her
face, taking in rapid little open-mouthed gasps that would hitch as her body
periodically trembled in shock.
 
It was an extremely arousing sight to watch, but he knew better than to take
too much time sightseeing. Even as frazzled as she was Harry knew from
experience that Violet would recover her stamina eventually, and that when she
did, she would be extremely agitated and would almost certainly try to gain the
dominant position again.
 
He flipped her on her back so that she was lying on her stomach with her thin
legs tightly together as he knelt over her upper thighs, sliding his penis
between her cheeks, grimacing only slightly as his feet settled in the warm,
draining pool of urine behind them.
 
After what he had done with Dior, he figured he really couldn’t be embarrassed
by a little pee on his feet.
 
So he settled in to one of his favorite positions, one that allowed him almost
total control over the situation. As long as he kept her legs squeezed together
between his own and one hand on the back of her neck, she would have almost no
chance to escape or switch positions on him.
 
As he relaxed himself Violet seemed to slowly become aware of her new position,
and as her breathing became a little more normal, she turned her head to growl
up at him. “Harry!” His name came out in a breathy gasp and she squirmed under
him.
 
He paid her no mind, now having secured the superior position for himself. He
clenched his penis in his free hand, sliding the head between her muscular
butt-cheeks. Reveling quietly in the sensation of them despite her squeezing
against him, and the way she would growl and pound her fists whenever he teased
some pressure onto the tightly closed star that sat between them.
 
He snickered quietly as she scowled back up at him, hunching her pelvis up
unconsciously whenever he dipped down into the crevice that lay between her
legs. It was probably as good a permission as he was going to get.
 
So Harry decided to give her what she wanted, and he lined up and hilted
against her deepest part in a single swift motion. Violet moaned loudly and
tried to arched her back up towards him, clearly not expecting the speed or
force of the sudden penetration. “Shit, shit, shit!” She swore up at him as he
started into a harsh rhythm, while she bucked her body in an attempt to gain
the leverage necessary to pull him out, as her core traitorously curled down in
on itself in submission.
 
Their magic intertwined, his passing cleanly down the pathway their bond
created, allowing him to hit her again with another burst of blinding sensation
with even less effort than before.
 
His twin jerked back against him, moaning in defeat as the walls of her
drooling sex started rippling rapidly and she arched hard enough to lift her
shoulders off the tile. Far enough that he could see her eyes rolling back as
she tried her best to glare at him despite his weight on her neck.
 
So he fell back on her gasping body, pinning her fully with his weight while
his hands reached out to press her wrists into the tile. He ignored the intense
sensation of her walls fluttering rapidly and the burning of her magic as she
struggled against him. He bucked down into her until she was flush on the floor
and his upper-body was flush on top of hers. Her core was finally lashing back
at him again and his body burned where her own pressed into it.
 
Harry knew the best way to end her struggling though, and while he kept his
hips pumping so quickly and so hard he might have been afraid he was going to
bruise her, he bit into the scruff on the back of her neck.
 
This time Violet did scream, loud enough that he was thankful that the stalls
went to the floor and ceiling for fear that the people in the baths hear her.
The pleasure went shooting back at him across their bond while his twin came
like a bolt of lightning; it was enough for stars to burst across his vision.
 
His release exploded, and he was pressing his hips down as tightly as he could
in to the seizing length of her slick tunnel before he even realized it.
Instinctually pleased at the depth that this position provided, he switched
from releasing directly into her cervix to splattering the rest of his seed and
grinding the helmet of his penis into the little spot above that inner entrance
that always made her eyes roll when he touched it.
 
After several minutes of breathless gasping from the both of them, he leaned
over to nuzzle at her neck through her frizzy red hair. “All better?” He asked
playfully.
 
Violet bucked back again, trembling for a moment. “Fu-fuck you…” She replied
with a hitching breath, before her aftershocks cut her off.
 
“You want it again, already?” He replied as their bond started settling itself,
punctuating his point with a hard thrust.
 
She gasped as his helmet tapped against her drooling cervix. “Shit…” She
exclaimed, and his twin seemed to almost melt into the tile. “Fine…” She huffed
quietly in submission. “I’ll forgive you this time.”
 
“That’s good, cause we’ve already been gone at least twenty minutes….” Harry
said, rolling his eyes at her mocking obedience as he sat back on her thighs,
his penis sliding free and slapping up against his stomach with a wet smack as
he stood up gingerly. “And the way I see it… if we aren’t already in trouble,
we certainly would be after another session.”
 
Violet chuckled, pulling herself up and wiping tears and hair away from eyes.
“Fuck those guys then!” She proclaimed proudly, probably a little too proudly
for a person that was kneeling in a sticky puddle of sex fluid and urine.
 
And with that in mind, Harry realized as his brain finally came fully out of
the mental fog that sex created, it was quickly apparent that they both reeked.
 
Sweat, urine and male and female sexual fluids caked various parts of both of
their bodies, and while the scents had been arousing while they were actually
in the process of intercourse, he now recognized that it would be impossible to
even try and hide what they had been going.
 
And with several thick strings of cum slowly making their way down his sister’s
legs, combined with the immensely satisfied look she was giving to them, Harry
decided to just give up on even caring if anyone saw anything.
 
The bathroom was empty by the time they finally cracked the door, Hermione and
her sister probably already back in the common room.
 
Violet seemed to feel like that was some sort of new victory, and as they
walked slowly down the hallway, Harry did his best to ignore her self-satisfied
humming.
 
A fully dressed Penny was waiting for them at the entrance to the dimmed common
room, Tonks standing behind her. The older teen gave them both a discrete
thumbs-up while Harry’s mind flew to try and excuse their absence.
 
“And just where do you two think you’re going?” The younger teen asked, the
look on her face making it clear that this was likely the kind of question
Trude or Aunt Petunia might have asked… the kind with no right answer.
 
He was ready to apologize, he was ready to deflect. What Harry wasn’t ready for
was for Violet to answer before he could.
 
“What kind of question is that? We took our bath already Esquire.” His twin
answered, idly bringing a semen-coated finger from between her legs up to her
lips.
 
While Tonks slapped her hands up and made a visible effort to not burst out
laughing, Penny’s face flashed through several emotions in quick succession,
finally settling on some mixture of incredulity and annoyance before she
crossed her arms at them and huffed. “Fine, you can sleep like that for all I
care. Tonks you deal with the rest of this shit, I’m going to get our report
set up.” Then the prim brunette spun on her heel and made her way towards the
dorm’s exiting staircase.
 
They stayed quiet until Penny had left, then Tonks snorted. “Nice response
Squirt, but maybe go with something a little less confrontational next time, or
she might just take the bait.”
 
Harry’s brain was still stuck where Penny had left off. “Report…? Wait, we have
to sleep like this?”
 
The question made the older teen’s grin grow. “I believe the phrase would be
something like ‘You’ve made your bed, now you have to sleep in it.’ or
something similar…”
 
Violet’s grin didn’t even falter slightly at that news. “Suddenly, I love
school.”
 
Tonks rolled her eyes as she led them away from the wall and towards the piles
of pillows and blankets that littered the base of the “tree” and Harry noted
that several black fabric teepees had been erected amongst the pile. “Let’s see
if you still say that to me again after tomorrow.” She said to Violet before
turning to look back at him. “And yes Harry, we have to file weekly reports on
you guys. Mostly just the basic stuff, like if you’re getting along, and
developing properly, it’s all pretty boring really.”
 
There were lots of stares, now that they were closer to the pillows. He could
see girls that had been in his group, plus girls that he assumed were part of
that other girls group peeking at them from under blankets or piles of pillows.
He even spotted that odd girl, Hanna if he remembered correctly; she stuck an
arm out of her blanket and waved at them through the blush on her cheeks.
 
His twin seemed to revel in all the wide-eyed looks she was receiving, shaking
her hips and walking in a way that accented the cum-trails that were running
down her legs… Even Tonks looked impressed at the amount of attention they were
receiving. Yeah he was going to hear about this tomorrow, no doubt about that.
 
Might as well stall that conversation as long as possible, Harry internally
figured, the last thing he needed was the Esquire giving him pointers. “Hey
Tonks?” He preempted the conversation, as they started ascending the spiral
staircase. “Who was that bald girl from earlier?”
 
“Oh,” Tonks just shrugged. “That’s just Tai, she’s kind of a bitch.” The teen
shrugged helplessly.
 
That explained nothing, at least nothing of any use. “Any reason Hermione might
not like her?” He asked, genuinely curious.
 
This time his Tonks snorted loudly. “Why Hermione wouldn’t like her? You’re
kidding right?” She asked, scratching her suddenly white hair. Harry continued
to stare at her, and she broke almost instantly. “She’s Egyptian, and they
helped the Carthaginians beat the Romans out of the majority of North Libya.”
 
Violet butted in, crossing her arms and almost falling over the railing. “Her
little sister said, rather loudly, that they were Greeks and not Romans.”
 
Tonks nodded. “They’re Byzantine, previously the eastern half of the Roman
Empire, and while they have made strides to distance themselves from the old
empire and return to their roots… some disputes just die hard.” She finished.
 
His twin nodded, still looking confused, and Harry heard George’s musical
honking from somewhere nearby. “I always thought that when people said Romans,
that they meant the Holy Romans.” Violet said.
 
Tonks nodded again. “The western half became the Holy Roman Empire, and the
eastern half the Byzantines.” She sighed as they got to the top of the
stairway, and flipped her cape in a dramatic gesture, that was ruined as she
almost toppled over. “But enough history tonight, we have teachers for that,
and I ain’t one of them.” She recovered, jabbing a finger at both of them.
 
“Anyways, you guys get some sleep.” She swung her hand to indicate the large
platform that, like the area at the trees base, was covered in pillows and
blankets and several little teepees.
 
Harry nodded back; spying what he figured might be Draco’s blonde mop peaking
around one of the nearby teepees. “You’re not staying to monitor?”
 
That got a chuckle from the older teen. “Harry… giving you guys having private
time to go messing around with each other is kinda the entire point.” Tonks
waggled her eyebrows pointedly at him as she turned back to the staircase. “And
since you weren’t here before, I figured I ought to let you know you’re stuff
is in the locker with Potter on it on the far wall, and the hallway next to the
one that leads to the washrooms leads to a study area.”
 
And with that she vanished, not walked down the stairway, just disappeared
without a trace.
 
“Now, that I don’t like.” Violet grumbled at the spot where Tonks had just
stood, hands on her hips in displeasure. “Explain to me exactly how would we
ever know that she isn’t about to ambush us?” She asked, waiving an arm where
the Esquire had just been standing.
 
He raised an eye to his twin and started walking, and she followed him quietly.
“That’s probably the entire point.”
 
At this point he was more worried about whether he would be able to get some
sleep tonight… baring no nocturnal visits of course.
 
§
 
Dumbledore opened his tabled for what felt like the hundredth time that night.
It was actually the forty-fifth, but who other than him was counting?
 
Actually, he thought to himself with a slight grin. Tonight there was probably
at least a few other people that actually cared about the initial reports, and
he was hardly alone in his office.
 
Minerva was still glaring at him from her seat in one of his most overstuffed
chairs, seemingly still upset that he hadn’t thought to inform her about the
twin’s arrival. Thankfully for his health, the rest of the Heads were less
annoyed.
 
Lucius and Snape had even arrived from the feast early, maybe hoping to get it
over with early. Flitwick had strode in only a few moments later than them,
seemingly still energetic despite the late hour.
 
Then there was Remus and Sirius, who sat next to Hagrid and Arthur and had
spent most of the past few hours cracking jokes, while Pomfrey and Sprout had
given little looks of disapproval.
 
The others had trickled in as the hours past. After all, there was rarely
anything noteworthy that was learned the first night.
 
Of course, to say hours in this case, was a little bit misleading. As they were
currently using one of the inventions Albus had found most useful.
 
It was a time dilation field that, thanks to the eldritch geometries in time
and space that had been exploited when the castle had been updated, could be
used to create a bubble that allowed them to see and interact with all of the
reports from the Esquires one after another, despite the fact that from the
other prospective they were giving all of the reports simultaneously. It had
saved him so much time and headache it was a miracle.
 
But when he cracked open the newest little wooden tablet and gazed into the
wax, the last name he had wanted to see came up.
 
≤Tonks here≥
 
“Mrs. Potter… I believe you will find some interest in this particular report.”
He had said it quietly, and immediately all conversation had died like a candle
going out in a monsoon.
 
All eyes turned to the chair that, for this exercise at least, sat closest to
his own throne. “We’ll, I suppose we get to see if our little plan worked…” The
woman answered quietly.
 
He tapped the tablet and new words scrawled across the wax. ≤Initial report,
everything seems fine… Who’s all there?≥
 
≤Everyone of relevance Esquire≥He wrote back.
 
There was a pause, and you could cut the tension in his little office with a
butter knife. ≤Draco’s fine… bit of a pansy… no pun intended. His physical
state could use some work. I think you might have spoiled him Lord Malfoy.≥
 
Lucius blinked, ignoring Sirius’s grin, and waived his hand for it to be
continued.
 
Tonks didn’t waste a second. ≤Pansy and Dior are similar… and have small cores
of the leaching type… interestingly, Dior had a large amount of Harry’s magic
in her when I met them on the island, but she had no bonds to him… Kinky≥
 
That got a chuckle out of half the people present, while Lucius simply rubbed
the bridge of his nose in response.
≤Speaking of the Potters… they have a Mating Bond in addition to their twin
bond… and it’s at level 2≥
This time people turned to stare at Hagrid, who blushed. “Oy, don’t look at me!
I told Dumbledore about that!” The giant man gave him a look that a man who was
surrounded my wolves might.
 
Minerva grit her teeth audibly, but it was Pomfrey who spoke. “Let me guess?
You completely forgot even the most basic of Sex Ed while you took them
moseying through the woods looking for dragons to wrestle?” She accused,
crossing her arms and giving Hagrid a stare.
 
Dumbledore took that as his sign to intervene. “Now, now Pomfrey. It is still
well within the boundaries of the scenario,” and he lowered his half-moon
glasses, “and such relationships are hardly unheard of in twins and close
siblings.” He said pointedly.
 
The old woman blustered for a moment, glared at Arthur who shrank under the
look, and continued blushing and sputtering at him for a second before finally
sitting down, saving the argument for later.
 
Dumbledore was thankful, and tapped the board for Tonks to continue. ≤Yeah, and
it gets better… both of them have the Tyrant core type, and they aren’t small
cores either… I’m talking late second year average size≥
 
Snape gave Lilly a look. “They must fight constantly,” he turned to look back
at Hagrid with an incredulously eyebrow raised, “I assume you and Vernon
figured out how to funnel that into something constructive?”
 
Now it was the half-giant’s turn to smile. “I tell you what! Those two are
going to be the best fighters you ever seen at their age.” He said proudly,
slapping his hips onto his waist and making the knickknacks on his belt jingle.
 
“Let’s hope so…” Sirius answered with one of his typical rugged grins. “I’ve
got a whole new curriculum lined up this year, and I think it’ll be my best
yet.”
 
A silence passed over the room. “And what are your thoughts Lily?” Snape asked
the woman who had once been the love of his life in deference.
 
The shapely redhead rolled her eyed at them, leaning back in her chair. “I
suppose it’s every mother’s dream to have children that get along… though I
suppose I’ll need some pointers on how exactly to guide this particular type of
getting along… Arthur, you ought to know a lot about that subject?”
 
The man in question had his jaw click so fast it was audible across the room.
“My wife would be the one to ask about that…” He trailed off.
 
That got another round of chuckles.
 
≤Anyone else of note Ms. Nymphadora≥He asked, confidant that the teen couldn’t
try and pull a Caesar on him through the wax.
 
There was several seconds that passed before the writing continued, this time
in a more precise pen. ≤Tonks threw the tablet at the wall, so this is Penny
filling in until she learns to grow up… The only other thing that needs to be
stated now is that there are two other students in our group with similar power
levels≥
 
That caught attentions across the room, and Dumbledore found himself nearly
pushing a curious Flitwick out of the way so that he could tap for her to
continue. ≤The first and least noteworthy is Longbottom, his core is only a
little smaller than the twins… but it’s a Relaxed sub-type and his ability to
use his magic is hampered by a small control limit… so he’ll have great
endurance but not a lot of hitting power≥
 
≤The other person Esquire Clearwater≥
 
≤Ask Minerva≥Was all that wrote itself.
 
And now everyone was staring at McGonagall, who harrumphed in response.
 
≤As she currently is not speaking with me… I’ll have to ask that you continue≥
 
There was another, almost minute long pause, and suddenly Tonks’s handwriting
returned. ≤I would ask what you did… but I know better≥
 
Snape growled at the tablet. “Can we get on with this already?” The potions
master asked.
 
≤There’s this Byzantine girl named Hermione Granger…≥
 
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
--------------------------------------
 
And that is chapter 7 folks.
 
As I said, I want to do more original twists on things that come up a lot in
the fics of varying qualities, which means doing the whole magic thing a little
differently.
 
For one thing I refuse to believe that magic in general, and accidental magic
in particular, wouldn’t be deeply connected to or guided by instinctual
behavior. I find the very idea, that the only difference that comes by being
what is essentially a different species that can interbreed with humans, should
have no greater reaching repercussions than gaining superpowers and being
allowed into a secret school to be frankly absurd.
 
This is compounded when people add in things like “bonds” and similar sorts of
stuff to the mix, the kind of thing that a species and especially a society
derived from that species, would have all kinds of guidelines and rules, as
well as and handicaps and allowances for.
 
Just like all cultures made by humans all share a set of similar foundations,
the things that absolutely everyone does because we as a species behaving at
our most basic have a need to do those things that way to survive.
I also wanted to give a little detail into magical cores and their complexity.
Usually when they show up in a story it's just to create another way for the
auther to show how unbelieveably powerful a protagonist is. Which ignores one
of the rules of fanfiction: That if you give Frodo a lightsaber, you must give
Sauron his Deathstar. The point is to scale gadgets, powers, and abilities to
the story to keep it interesting, which I hope I've been doing properly.
Anyway… I’ll probably complain about things like this a little more in the next
chapter.
 
***** Hermione's First Night *****
I’m going to start by thanking all of the people who have read and reviewed
this story so far, knowing other people are interested in my ideas is just
awesome.
I mean I have seven chapters and a shit-ton of views and reviews already, all
when I honestly thought no one was going to be interested in this and that I
would just be here talking to myself.
It's just awesome.
But to be honest with you folks, this wasn’t supposed to be chapter eight. The
entirety of the chapter that follows was supposed to be summed up in three
pages, mostly of Hermione yelling at Dior at the breakfast table at the very
beginning of chapter eight about the events portrayed here as follows.
Suffice to say, the lemon and its aftermath sort of came out of left field for
me, but it was just flowing and I found I just couldn't stop writing.
And so about eighty pages in to what was supposed to be chapter eight, and with
only about two-thirds of the content I wanted to have, and most of the last
half still rough as shit, I decided to break the chapter into two parts and
give you what is essentially a very large lemon… with a good bit of fluff and
exposition at the end.
Anyways, I hope what follows is enough to tide you guys over for now, Chapter 9
should be along relatively shortly… I hope.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
--------------------------------------
Violet awoke from a light nap feeling fantastic.
Well, that might have been a bit of an exaggeration; she smirked to herself as
she stretched back against her spooning twin’s sleeping form. She was still
sore pretty much everywhere from their earlier rough coupling, and her legs
were coated in a flaking layer of sex fluids, but the dozens of eyes that had
been staring at her in intimidation and awe had made it all worth it.
She reveled in the power she had asserted over the other girls, and the
pleasure that had preceded it had been just as sweet. Their animalistic sides,
the beast inside them her brother didn’t show very often was always worth the
effort of drawing to the surface, even if it was only for the fierce sex that
always resulted. But when she added the fact that she had been able to finally
draw his attention back away from the other girls… well that simply made her
later swaggering all the more rewarding.
Hermione on the other hand was feeling significantly less self-satisfied. She
was exhausted, mentally and physically, but there was simply so much to learn
that she patently refused to allow herself the sweet mercy of sleep.
Of course, that meant that she hadn’t even bothered to try and get any rest,
instead she had stormed into the study room with eyes scanning for books the
second she had felt that the Esquires had left them alone for the night.
And she had found them; she contemplated idly, already halfway through a wrist-
thick text on magical botany. An entire wall of the lushly furnished den had
been thoughtfully layered with books of various sizes and shapes.
To her mounting frustration though, there seemed to be no books written in
Greek, just a couple dozen textbooks on seemingly randomly chosen subjects
which were instead written in Latin.
Almost everything else was a wall of cuneiform, hieroglyphics, runes or a
variety of other forms of incomprehensible gibberish or chaotic squiggles
splashed across stiff pages. Which was really too bad, in Hermione’s opinion,
as a good number of the books she had been thumbing through earlier had been
filled with beautifully illustrated diagrams and pictures of various things she
knew absolutely nothing about.
And to be so obviously surrounded by so much obvious knowledge and being
totally unable to access it left her in a state that resembled an almost
physical discomfort, the need to fulfill her id driving her ever further from
any thoughts of sleep, and only adding  to her ever mounting sense of
frustration.
Fortunately for her, one of the books that she had been able to find was a
Greek to Latin dictionary that had been proving itself to be amazingly useful
for cross referencing with her less than brilliant understanding of the old
imperial script.
It was so useful in fact, that she already had sixteen pages of various notes.
Scribbled precisely onto several loose leaves of parchment she had found
stacked, along with a large number of inkwells and several handfuls of dip
pens, laying in a row of bins on the far wall.
As her hand attempted to rise from her current page on some kind of predatory
strangler vine, to the inkwell on the desk for another note, she sighed to
herself quietly as her arm simply refused to respond to her demand. Making a
point to tune out the light breathing coming from her younger sibling, who was
wrapped snuggly in a woolen blanket on one of the overstuffed couches against
the wall, she let her body relax back into her wooden chair for a moment.
Hermione sighed and rubbed her face, she was so tired she physically ached, her
eyes struggled to open after every blink and she felt like she could feel the
bags forming beneath them.
The candles behind her dimmed again as she fought to rub the sleep out of her
eyes. She brushed her frizzy hair out of the way and turned up to glare at the
flickering lights, only for them to be as bright as they had been when she came
in the room.
That had been happening for at least the past half-hour, as though there was
some malevolent power controlling the brightness of the candle’s flames in an
attempt to sabotage her study.
Though, considering where she was, she wouldn’t put it beyond the realm of
possibility.
Hermione huffed up at the traitorous lights, and turned her attention back to
the diagram on the page in defiance, trying to figure out where exactly the
author had pulled the Latin terminology that he was using to describe the
plants various vascular systems from, as she certainly had never heard of it
before.
“How exactly do you expect to survive in class tomorrow if you’re up all
night?” A silky smooth whispered from nearby, startling Hermione out of her
exhausted attempt at concentration, the nearly forgotten Tully hung on her ear
whispering its quiet translation to her.
That the two other girls had entered the room and managed to cross it almost to
her desk without her noticing was a testament to her current exhaustion more
than her focus. The one closest to her was a tall and aristocratic blonde…
“Dor”, or something similar if she was correctly remembering the flurry of
greetings that had been passed around table during the earlier feast.
Trailing behind her was a frowning girl with a short bob of black hair.
Hermione didn’t remember her introducing herself, but she did remember that the
girl had spent an inordinate amount of time fawning at Draco earlier, which
likely meant…
“Your Draco’s sister, aren’t you?” She whispered back at the blonde quietly,
mindful of Melody still sleeping on the couch, and making a pointed effort at
ignoring the taller girl’s question.
That response however, seemed to please the other girl, whose lips quirked up
in amusement at the connection. The focused gaze and manipulative expression
the aristocratic blonde landed on her made Hermione decide that she didn’t
quite like it when the pretty girl was amused. “Indeed, you have a minute?” The
tall blonde probed with a calculating smirk, a little more breathily than
Hermione thought was decent.
Not that anyone other than her seemed to be making any effort at all towards
decency in this madhouse, but that wasn’t the point.
The black-haired girl huffed in impatience at her companion’s behavior, taking
several steps closer until she was flanking close to the right side of
Hermione’s desk. Suddenly Hermione was lashed, by that same type of disembodied
sensation that she had begun to associate with whatever phenomena people
actually meant when they went and used the term “Magical Core”.
The closest thing she could compare this new sensation to was being struck by
pieces of shattered glass, something that was smooth as silk, but would cut you
to ribbons if you weren’t careful with it.
It was such an unexpected feeling that her exhausted mind simply reacted on
instinct, pressing back with that wet crackling, sensation that seemed to be
her immaterial “self”with a gust of power.
There was a moment when that power pressed out normally, or at least as
normally as she had experienced so far, like it had done before in the hold and
after the feast. But then she was struck with a powerful cooling sensation and
Hermione instantly knew somehow that she couldn’t even try and pull that power
back.
The impatient girl reacted to the cooling instantly, her thin frame suddenly
snapping tight, her breath chirping with a cutoff yelp and all of her muscles
seemed to lock tight simultaneously as her skin flushed a brilliant crimson in
reaction to whatever the girl was doing.
“Fuck!” She moaned the curse as her body went slack, taking deep gasping
breaths through a shaky, giggling smirk as the previously scowling girl made a
visible effort to calm her trembling thighs and remain standing. “Dior you
bitch, why didn’t you warn she was gonna bloody zap me!” The smaller of the duo
groaned happily, finally dropping to her knees and the cooling sensation slowed
to a stop, leaving Hermione with her body almost melting into the chair.
Suddenly she was even more exhausted than she had only a moment before.
“You should refine your attention to detail Pansy.” Dior said, rolling her cold
blue eyes at her trembling companion in amusement. There was massive grin on
the haughty girl’s face that Hermione did not like at all, that bloomed further
as her shivering friend tumbled further forward onto her hands and knees. Then
Dior, grinning greedily, moved swiftly closer to Hermione’s desk and unlatched
her own cloak so that it fell off her body and pooled at her feet, revealing
the blonde’s slender body for all to see. The indecent display was enough that
Hermione stood instantly in shock and discomfort.
That proved to be the wrong thing to do in her position, both because she
stumbled out of exhaustion, and because Dior took that opportunity to slide her
nude form right up flush against her cloak covered body. Grinding that place at
the junction of her thin hips firmly against Hermione’s thighs, forcing her to
back up until her butt was pinned back against the chair she had just stood
from. “What in God’s name do you two think you’re going to get away with?” She
hissed at the blonde quietly in reaction, her total astonishment at the sheer
brazenness of the display, leaving her indignant and in disbelieving shock.
The other girl merely leered down at her outrage, sliding her hands along her
arms to pin Hermione’s wrists against her thighs “Heh, well Pansy was just a
little hungry… but I’ll tell you what I want tonight Hermione.” Dior drew her
face close enough that their noses touched and she could smell the other girl’s
hot breath. “I’ll tell you that boys can be fun.” She gave that none-answer,
drawing back slightly with a sultry smile on her lips, which grew wider and
more self-satisfied as the damnable lights dimmed themselves again. “But I’ve
found that if you want consistent satisfaction, you need a woman’s touch.” The
reedy girl wiggled her eyebrows meaningfully, a slender hand slipping between
the opening of Hermione’s robe to banish any doubts she might have had. “So
what do you think I want?” She teased, licking her lips at the sight of
Hermione’s struggling.
Then the blonde kissed her… really hard.
Hermione’s brain slammed to a halt as the dainty girl’s tongue burst into her
mouth mid-gasp, and she swirled it around for a moment, letting the
implications and obvious outcomes go flashing across Hermione’s mind as the
blonde girl locked her up with a messy kiss. Then Dior’s sucking mouth pulled
free from her shocked lips with an audible pop, leaving her gasping for air in
stunned disbelief, and then the tall blonde leaned down and started nuzzling
her clavicle, licking and kissing up past her trembling shoulder to whisper
into her ear. “And you know what? I think if you’re cooperative, we can both
get what we want tonight.” The aristocratic girl whispered in a tone that left
absolutely no illusions as to what exactly she wanted to get out of this
tonight.
This was simply unacceptable. “You let me go this instant!” Hermione hissed her
outraged demand at the other girl loudly as she dared, trying to ignore how she
herself was already so drained that she was trembling in the other girls grip
instead of even struggling properly. “You put your clothes on and let me go!”
She growled out in outrage and growing dread, flushing with mortification as
her brain finally caught up to reality around her. She spared a panicked glance
back to the couch where her younger sister Melody was still sleeping quietly
with her thumb in her mouth, sparing her that humiliation at least. “Please, be
reasonable.” She begged a grinning Dior in frustration as it hit her that she
couldn’t force the girl to free her, she was left so struggle weakly against
the slender girls aggressive touches, now suddenly wishing desperately that she
had gotten some sleep.
Dior just chuckled down to her haughtily at the sudden change of her tone.
“Why?” The well-bred blonde asked, as she used her knee to force apart
Hermione’s legs. “You can’t stop me… so why shouldn’t I do whatever I want to
you?” She finished, pressing her knee further past the junction between
Hermione’s legs until its cap touched the wood of the chair behind her.
Dior released her left wrist, which went straight down to try and protect her
sanctity, and the taller girl pinched Hermione’s nose tight and held it closed.
Waiting patiently until she was forced to open her mouth for air, then the thin
faced girl was forcing another unwanted kiss onto her. The girl’s slender
tongue pillaging her captive mouth as Hermione’s sleep-deprived muscles simply
failed to free her, or even force the blonde to cease her unwanted
ministrations. She was simply no match, even for the more slender girl’s
strength, as exhausted as she was.
Dior broke the kiss again, glancing past her head, and she was again left
panting for the lack of air. “Please stop this, let me go!” Hermione moaned as
her skin tingled with goose-bumps, shaking her body desperately trying to free
herself from the braided blonde’s grip in sudden fear, her stomach clenching
tightly in dread as she noticed that Pansy had finally stumbled from up her
knees and was slowly making her way behind her. Suddenly it hit her that she
was already helplessly pinned and getting desperate, and that she was about to
be outflanked.
Not that this unhappy turn of events should have seemed to be anything really
unusual, given how things had been going for her as of late.
In fact, if anyone had asked her if there had been any defining factor that had
stood out over her past few days, Hermione would have said it was the simple
fact that she had been constantly shuffled from humiliating experience to
humiliating experience. Almost all of which were things she had been explicitly
told never to do by either her parents or the priests.
This would most definitely be one of the things in that broad category…
Dior seemed to realize that as well, pressing her thin frame even closer
against her brunette captive, headless of her desperate struggles and the
whispered begs for release. Chuckling as her thin face again drew close to
Hermione’s neck, nuzzling along the nape her saliva had earlier coated
affectionately. Ignoring Hermione’s whispered pleading for mercy into the
braids near the blonde’s ear. “You should have gotten some sleep Hermione.” The
elfin girl teased her haughtily as Hermione’s abdomen clenched again, but to
her own shame it was not just in fear this time, as the attractive blonde went
wetly sucking in a trail down her neck that left Hermione trembling at the
feelings it caused to surge through her body. “But it’s too late for that now
isn’t it?”  The blonde crooned smugly as her captive resisted the urge to break
down in tears, emphasizing her point by slapping the free hand Hermione had
protecting her sacred place from the other girls wandering fingers, sliding a
greedy digit over the creased little mound she found there as the frizzy
brunette started sobbing in quietly into her own neck.
“She didn’t need any sleep to fry me.” The Pansy grumbled happily, sounding
much more relaxed than she had before as she came slinking up, sandwiching
Hermione’s body between the two of them, and forcing Hermione to resist the
growing urge choke in fear. “I’m actually a little impressed.”
The dark haired girl’s smug voice crawled across the back of Hermione’s
shivering neck, and she felt herself instantly pinned in place on a different
level, the earlier sensation of shards now behind her and with an oily slick
sort of feeling in front.
Then the pair pressed in for real, Pansy’s hot breaths and little kisses,
rapidly transforming into long languid licks trailing across the back of her
neck and shoulders. Dior’s mouth attacked her own again with another sloppy
kiss as their combined power lashed down against their captive. The greedy
blonde moving on to kissing the rest of her face when Hermione pressed her lips
tightly shut and shook her head in outright refusal. Both girls wrestled her
free from where she was pinned bodily against the chair, and as Pansy snapped
the clasp of her cloak open with a lazy flick, their naked pelvises suddenly
not just pinning her hips, but both grinding at her body between them.
She simply couldn’t handle it anymore. “No, no, no, no…” She repeated quietly
as three sets of sweat-slicked naked skin ground together, Hermione sobbed the
mantra quietly to herself while her nerves flashed with a new kind of fire. Her
own body readily betraying her to the new and unfamiliar sensations, even as
unwanted as they were. The pair seemed to be reveling in her misery, and their
groping hands roamed across the flesh that was now exposed to the air,
pinching, squeezing and caressing in time to her pleading. Pansy purred
mockingly against her shoulder as her body shook particularly hard, and the
black haired girl forcefully bent her arms until they were pinned up against
her back, allowing Dior to slide her frame onto Hermione’s struggling body in
an embrace until they were almost flush together. The sweat in her hair
dripping into her eyes as the skin of their front sides went sliding against
one another, leaving her with a tingling sensation.
The oily feeling intensified instantly as their bodies went flush, and she was
forced to allow herself to be pressed against the thinner girl fully. And with
a hint of that same sort of coolness that had come from Pansy earlier, Hermione
cried out as she found her magic responding to Dior’s pull. Her own power being
drawn out from her center and into another foreign vessel against her will.
Dior shuddered at the same time, gasping loudly and closing her mouth firmly
onto Hermione’s neck like some kind of parasite to quiet her own voice, and
into her neck the other girl moaned whorishly as she trembled in satisfaction.
Then, in an instant the sensation of chilling vanished again as both girls grew
back their powers, and Hermione was left with the sort of deep throbbing heat
across her body that she knew from her studies must have come from sexual
arousal. To her shame and fear, the other girls obviously noticed that too.
Dior, who was now looking much more awake in the same manner as Pansy, shot her
a gloating smirk that told her that she knew exactly the state Hermione was in.
The blonde leered lecherously and Pansy twisted her arms behind her so she
could hold them with one hand, the black haired girl reaching a hand down and
sliding a finger between the squeezed tight cheeks of her butt as Dior started
pinching the erect nubs of her nipples.
“Well, isn’t this cute?” Another voice interrupted them, nearly stopping
Hermione’s heart in sheer terror at being found in this position, but she still
noted a sort of ire mixing with smugness clear in the speakers tone.
Pansy and Dior jumped at the voice, releasing Hermione to slide boneless to her
knees in exhaustion. Unable to even raise her head, which simply ended up laid
back against Dior’s thigh, as she tried desperately not to curl up into a ball
or look as out of sorts as she really was. She could see the redhead from
earlier out of the corner of her vision; Violet was standing unashamedly nude
in the doorway. The lean little redhead’s face held an unusual mixture of smug
self-satisfaction and irritation, and her arrival carried with it the smell of
stale sex, the scent-cue reinforced by the flaky white trails along the other
girl’s tanned thighs.
It seemed she had guessed the origin of the muffled sounds earlier in the
bathroom correctly, not that such knowledge made Hermione feel any better about
anything, instead it just made her stomach clench harder as even more ideas
about what might happen now started flashing past her mind’s eye.
But it was the sharp, fearful intake of breath behind her told her more about
the situation than any explanation would have. She didn’t even have to ask to
know that Dior had previously done something to anger the other girl, something
that was worth a fight if the fuming, rolling heat pulsing off the angry
redhead’s core was any indication.
Violet chuckled condescendingly at them as she swept a frizzy lock of red hair
out of her eyes, a sly victorious look crossing her face as she paced calmly
forward, catlike and haughty. “Oh, isn’t this scene just rich.” The short girl
sneered cruelly, first at Dior and Pansy, then down at Hermione herself. “I’ve
been waiting all day for this.” She growled back up at the girls behind
Hermione with a smirk, her fiery aura flashing even more violently at the
words, and Hermione imagined that she could smell smoke as it expanded to press
in against her.
Unexpectedly, she was hit by a sudden flash of irrational anger as she finally
managed to catch her breath, and in a sudden instant, every single facet of the
newcomer simply rubbed her the exact wrong way.
Her fingernails dug into her palms as she was suddenly absolutely furious with
everyone in the room. The hot embarrassment, humiliation, violation, all came
crashing together and they filled her soul with a sort of numb fury that made
her grind her teeth as she stared down into the carpet and tried to find the
strength to stand.
The worst part was that she couldn’t even place where this new feeling came
from, except maybe as some massive subconscious overreaction to the humiliation
of both being molested against her will by a pair of other girls and then being
caught naked and in mid act. It was even more confusing in her frazzled,
exhausted mind because most of the new feelings of spite and anger seemed to be
directed at Violet, and not at her would be rapists. But as she sat there in
the plush carpet she realized that she simply didn’t have the willpower or
place of mind left to fight it. The heat the other girl was throwing off was
simply infuriating her too much for her exhausted psyche to bear.
She slid her arm up to grab Dior’s wrist hard, letting her fingernails dig
venomously into the other girls flawlessly pale skin, the act of marring it as
she pulled herself unsteadily to her feet left her mind flushed with sick
pleasure. It was a silent warning that no matter what happened next, she was
not finished with the pair. She ignored the blonde’s pained hiss and shot what
she hoped was an unimpressed, and not overly embarrassed or exhausted glare at
the redheaded newcomer.
Violet grinned wolfishly at her as Dior hissed in pain and pulled her arm away
in in pain, and at Pansy moving subtly behind her and out of Hermione’s line of
sight in reaction. “Look Hermione, I know you’re probably mad but you need to
calm down!” The dark-haired little serpent hissed quietly in an attempt to calm
her, and edge of panic creeping into her voice. “We’ll get in a lot of trouble
if we-”
Whatever warning the other girl was about to give was lost as Violet took
several long aggressive strides towards them, closing the dozen feet between
them rapidly to give them all another cruel smirk. “If we what you little slut?
You two pixies ain’t gonna beat me in a fistfight,” the athletic redhead spat
at Pansy, “and curly here looks like she needs a nap more than a scrap.” The
nude girl rhymed in English mockingly, with a smug sneer on her lips. “I
suppose I could provide both though.” She finished by flexing her muscled arms
and hands, letting her knuckles crack audibly.
Dior slid close behind Hermione as she clenched her fists in anger at the
newcomer’s jabs. “Do you even understand why she makes you so angry Hermione?”
The blonde attempted to whisper soothingly into her ear, making the fuzzy
little Tully hidden behind her hair wiggle, but she barley registered it past
the bubbling anger and humiliation that was rapidly reaching towards its
boiling point. “Or why your heart is suddenly set against someone who has
nothing to do with this, rather than me or Pansy?”
Hermione didn’t really know the answer to either question, and in that moment
she only knew that she didn’t care. Violet was registering in some deep seated
part of her, the part that she couldn’t really see that well but which had been
dredged to the surface by the blonde’s earlier actions. She was a competitor of
equal strength, that type of urgent threat that needed to be dealt with before
she could move on to less important things… like paying back her would-be
molesters. It must have been some instinct; there was simply no rationalization
to be had.
Hermione ignored the blonde’s attempt to calm her, and drew up that part of her
that she was beginning to learn to hate, the part that could compel both Melody
and herself and reacted like a wild storm to the slightest provocation. As she
did a tiny voice in her head cried out in terror and humiliation, begging with
the savage, angry pressure that this was all a terrible idea and pleading that
they flee and find an authority figure to beg for sanctuary. But it was snuffed
out by that rising power as she allowed it to flash, subjugated by the
primitive demands it brought with it.
She idly noted, that she could feel Dior and Pansy slinking back away from her
as the power rose, there cores echoing with something that felt slippery to the
touch and smelled like fear and sudden panic. The smell made her smile at that
little victory, and it only reinforced the current direction of action that had
been decided on deep in her mind.
The redhead had seen her vulnerable, and so the smaller girl had to be put in
her place if she was to ever be able to recover from this, it was as simple as
that.
She allowed that power to call to her, allowed the anger and giddiness it
brought with it to flow through her. Hermione was no longer even trying to
fight it, and instead she reveled in the intense sensations that ran down her
degraded and still aroused body. She wasn’t humiliated by that arousal anymore
though, and she was giggling happily as the little lines of flashing light went
skittering across her bare skin and left it tingling in pleasure, flashing in
stronger pulses in rebellion against the waves of heat that came blasting off
the redhead as Violet’s brow furrowed.
She let her magic take the reins, and it flared outward in defiance with a
power that Hermione almost felt she could hear as it thundered against
Violet’s. Out of the corner of her eye she saw her little sister leap awake on
the couch with a sudden, panicked jerk, her expressive eyes widening in fright
as she saw the state that the room and its occupants had fallen into during her
slumber.
She cracked her neck at Violet, listing to the bones pop. “I think you
barbarians need a lesson in etiquette.” Hermione spat in Greek, ignoring the
little embers that had begun dancing around her redheaded challenger and
readying the crackling in her fists for a fight she really only knew that she
desperately needed to win.
Violet herself closed a second later, she felt Pansy and Dior both throw
themselves to the ground behind her, as sparks of flame and bolts of lightning
burst into being and went leaping between them like iron fillings drawn to a
lodestone.
Then suddenly, and without warning, their two opposing strengths were snuffed
out like candle flames, as an oppressive weight crashed down on them and nearly
brought Hermione to her knees with its power. A massive watery pressure that
ground down onto them with a heart-stopping intensity, and came with the smells
of seaweed and ancient ocean slime, and it was a deep power that they all
instantly recognized.
“Just go to bed on your first night,” Tonks’s voice echoed tiredly from
somewhere out of sight, as all of the magically induced hate and bravado
drained out of Hermione’s body, “was that really so much to ask?” The pretty
teen grumbled irritably; from somewhere out of sight nearby.
The wet, gusty, sort of cracking in her body was completely gone now, as was
the enraging heat that had been emanating from Violet. Without those pressures
Hermione’s thoughts were left bare again, and suddenly she realized that there
had to have been a bevy of mistakes made at some point between ignoring that
order and nearly getting into some sort of savage, mindlessly driven conflict
with another girl in the middle of their dorm’s study hall.
“”Oh, shit!” Pansy and Dior both gasped in quiet unison behind her, as they too
seemed to have felt the crashing dampness that told Esquire had returned,
almost certainly summoned by the impending conflict, and they had clearly
noticed that the teen’s tone of voice implied she was far less than pleased
with the behavior on display.
Dior whimpered like a struck puppy, as Hermione heard the meaty smack of a
punch behind her, followed by Pansy whispering angrily to the blonde. “I damn
well told you that this was a terrible idea Dior,” the black-haired girl
hissed, her voice filled with fear. “but nooo, we just had to go haze the Greek
cause you were feeling peckish!” The angry girl spat in a shouted whispered
behind her. “If we had just stayed in the bloody tent we wouldn’t be in this
mess!” Pansy finished angrily, realizing that the time when they could bow out
of this gracefully had probably passed, and audibly intimidated by their
Esquires powerful display of magic.
The light’s dimmed further, throwing shadows and darkness over most of the
room. Tonks stalked impossibly out of the murky gloom of a corner that had been
empty and illuminated only seconds before, and any hope of escaping this mess
that Hermione might have had died with a whimper. There was a mostly empty
glass jug, which she presumed had been once filled with alcohol of some sort,
was pretty much empty but held loosely in the teen’s hand. A tired, annoyed
look and the significantly drunk flush across the shapely teen’s visibly
exasperated features and that spoke clearly enough.
“Three in the bloody morning… I was drinking and getting head at the same
time.” The pretty shape-shifter chided them irritably. “Then I have to rush
down here to keep you dingbats from burning your own dorm down.” Tonks
grumbled, her hands sliding to rest on the flare of her bare hips. An action
that forced her loose night robe wide open, revealing to Hermione and the
others that she hadn’t been lying about getting head either, if the obvious
wetness that shined off her half-hard penis in the dim candlelight was any
indication.
“That’s alright though,” the irresponsible teen said, grumbling sternly down at
them, causing the oceanic pressure to suddenly intensify. An action which
brought the entire room, except Tonks herself and Melody who was on the couch,
hard onto their hands and knees, “just means I get to punish yah!” She said,
her face flashing with an amused looking smile, the tall, curvy teen swaying
slightly as she gave a drunken hiccup.
“I just want it known that me and Dior weren’t fighting or getting ready to
fight…” Pansy whispered quietly in cowardice, as she and Dior slinked up to
kneel next to Hermione, the girl seemingly trying to plead to save herself
whatever new humiliation Hermione was sure was about to land in her lap next.
The statement seemed to cause Tonks some pause for a moment though. The teen
studying each of them in turn, with an intensity to her gaze that belayed her
obviously drunken state, before she finally broke out in a smirk that left
Hermione suddenly trembling again. And feeling like she needed an adult… a more
responsible adult than the clumsy teen fate had allocated her.
“Alright then,” Tonks shot back with a lazy wave, her short hair flashing
through several colors and finally settling on a deep brown, “you two can
leave.” The shapely teen said, pointing over Hermione to where Dior and Pansy
were kneeling, “You two on the other hand…” She made a tisk tisk sound at them,
and chuckled as Hermione flushed with abject shame and Violet growl up at her
in defiance. “Fighting in the study room, and on the very first night too,
that’s very naughty of you two.” Tonks waggled a finger at them, her face
relaxing into a look of mild disapproval, and the teen flopped herself down on
the couch next to Melody hard enough that Hermione’s wide-eyed little sister
was launched a few inches into the air, coming back down with an unhappy
squeak. “Luckily for you two, I’ve got a right proper punishment in mind.”
That statement got her stomach clenching again and as Tonks’s slid a hand to
grasp the base of her shaft, which started inflating again, Hermione was
instantly sure she knew what the older teen had in mind by punishment.
“I think I’ll stick around actually.” Dior said suddenly as she crawled closer
to their Esquire. Hermione doing a shocked double-take as she took in the
blonde’s sultry grin, the braided girl waiving Pansy away, and trailing up
close behind as Hermione and Violet were compelled to crawl closer to the couch
by the teen’s powerful pressure, “I think I know where this is going, and I was
getting hungry again anyways…” She giggled to herself, as Pansy hastily
stumbled to her feet and rushed out of the room.
Dior’s reaction made Tonks snort in amusement. “You’re a greedy little slut,
aren’t you?” The older girl teased haughtily, tossing a free arm across
Melody’s blanked covered shoulders and spreading her long legs as all three of
them drew closer. It was a rather rhetorical statement Hermione thought to
herself spitefully, especially in light of how the other girl had behaved
already tonight.
Thinking about that behavior brought the shivering back into her frame. “Can I-
can I opt out of this?”  Hermione pleaded quietly as Dior crawled up beside
her, rubbing their naked flanks together affectionately, and nuzzling her
forward. The sudden severity of what she was about to be coerced into hit her
all at once, but the lanky blonde kept pushing her gently into crawling up
between the teen’s spread legs before she could freeze up.
Hermione whimpered unhappily, confused by the sudden change in the blonde’s
behavior, but didn’t resist the other girls pull.
Tonks leaned back into the cushions, shooting Dior a warning glance and and
gave her an almost pitying look, one that was ruined only slightly by the flush
of intoxication and arousal that was spread across her bared flesh. “Well I
suppose could just do my job the way I’m actually supposed to, and let you guys
take your lashes tomorrow instead.” The attractive teen answered quietly,
shooting Hermione a curious look.
That seemed rather…severe. She swallowed unhappily, as they knelt between the
teen’s legs; spit going down hard enough that there was a moment where she was
certain that the others must have heard it. Then Hermione sighed explosively
leaning her head lightly onto Tonk’s thigh nervously, keenly aware of where the
other two girls were settling in beside her.
It was actually a little interesting to her though, because as repulsed as she
was by the action she was about to commit, Hermione still felt that ever-
present flicker of curiosity that had guided her all her life tingle somewhere
in the back of her mind. It was there, tugging her along even if she felt
exhausted, defiled and desperately didn’t want to follow its command.
“So tired aren’t you.” Tonks cooed at her, the beautiful teen murmuring in
pity, her free hand petting at Hermione’s frizzy locks like she was a puppy.
“Dior’s such a meany isn’t she? Taking everything she can get and giving
nothing in return.” Tonks teased Hermione softly, flicking Dior on the nose as
Hermione sleepily allowed her face to nuzzle up into the hot curvy flesh that
sat past the teen’s knee.
Once there, she had to resist the urge to simply fall asleep against the warmth
of Tonks’s thigh. There was something about the older teen’s pressure that
suddenly felt good to her, not necessarily on a physical level; more like the
teen had made her core somehow in tune. It made her wish she understood the
subject better, and she wished she had the strength left in her to ask, but at
the moment all she could do was simply gave in to the feelings of hot water and
mud that seemed to have overcome her entire body. Allowing herself to be
suspended in it, finally feeling safe enough to relax as the warmth engulfed
her.
Violet broke the peace, yelping in annoyance as Tonks used a burst of magic to
drag the unenthusiastic redhead the rest of the way over, plopping the small
girl down on her knees on the other side of Dior. Hermione gave the girl a
tired glare as Dior leaned in past her view and Tonks let out a pleased groan
of approval. This was all the athletic girls fault Hermione decided. If Violet
hadn’t arrived, she wouldn’t be about to debase herself, and so she decided
internally that it was completely reasonable to place the blame for everything
that was about to follow on the other girl.
The fact that if Violet hadn’t arrived, she would have been molested by Dior
and Pansy at the very best was something her sleepy mind barely remembered, and
Hermione groggily decided that she would deal with her punishment now. Then she
could defeat the other girl later, and then she would never be forced into this
situation again, she could sort her feelings out on the punishment itself
afterwards.
That drew her back to the task at hand, and as she broke her sideling glare at
Violet, she turned back to see Dior shamelessly nuzzling the older teens
oversized member, one hand on the ground to prop herself up, the other buried
somewhere between her legs. That alone was nearly enough shock to return
Hermione to her previously state of alertness, as she realized the blonde must
have been furiously masturbating herself with her free hand. The thin wrist
disappearing between the moaning girls own legs could simply be doing nothing
else, especially if the slick sounds emanating from the junction of those
slender thighs were telling her truthfully what her gaze at its current angle
simply couldn’t.
Tonks moaned loudly as the masturbating blonde slid her tongue up and did her
best to take the purple helmet at the top of the throbbing shaft between her
lips. Dior managed the helmet and nothing else for a moment, and then the crazy
blonde slammed her head down hard using her own body weight as leverage. It was
a sight that widened Hermione’s eyes, as the girls braided head slid another
inch and a half down, and the Esquire’s penis must have filled the entire
length of the other girl’s mouth. Dior reacted to successfully getting a full
mouthful by gagging hard, her chest immediately heaving and her back and legs
arched and trembled wildly as the choking blonde tried to force herself down
even deeper. 
That sight alone made Hermione realize that there was simply no way she would
be able to do anything like that with Tonks’s member. Dior might be able to
wrap her lips over the helmet and take it down, but the other girl was almost a
head taller than Hermione was, and she knew from recent experience that the
girl’s lips and mouth were bigger that her own was.
Dior slid herself down again a little deeper the second time, heedless of her
own trembling body’s reaction as her entire frame jerked and seized. If
anything, the blonde seemed to be enjoying it, and when her bony hips flared
open as she shook from lack of air, Hermione could finally see the slender
girl’s fingers were still frantically massaging against the dripping mound
between her legs.
As Hermione watched in stunned shock, long fingers intertwined in her hair and
Hermione found her head pulled gently towards the angrily pulsing shaft that
Dior was busy choking herself on.  “T-Tonks…” She hiccupped up to the teen,
eyes wide with the intimidation flashing through her body, and she started
shivering again very slightly in fear as she realized what the teen wanted from
her.
Unfortunately, Tonks seemed to read her reaction in exactly the opposite way
Hermione had intended. “Dior, for fuck’s sake, this isn’t even supposed to be
your punishment.” The teen joked, raising her eyebrow at the blonde between
throaty groans, pleasure flashing across her features as Dior slammed herself
down hard again, and for a second the buxom teen’s free hand twitched like she
was fighting simply the urge to grab the blonde by the hair and seeing how far
down she could force the eager young girl to go. “You need learn how to share
you greedy little harlot.”
The fingers in Hermione’s hair were transferred to Dior’s, and in a sharp
motion Tonks pulled her cock out of the girl’s throat with a loud pop. The
blonde seemed to convulse for a moment, face falling hidden back into the
sizable sack beneath Tonks’s shaft. What wasn’t hidden was Dior’s quivering
legs slapping together around her furiously jerking hand and Hermione heard the
girl choke on a moan as her freshly cleared throat gagged on thin air, and the
blonde seemed to find some sort of frame-shaking pleasure in the actions.  
After her trembling slowed, the blonde pulled her face away and the taller
girl’s crotch and slowly turned to Hermione… and the brunette didn’t even need
to ask to know the other girl was completely gone. The look on Dior’s elfin
face was one of complete, mindless, lust.  Empty blue eyes stared back at
Hermione wildly, and her own gaze was drawn to the thick trails of spit that
were dripping down the girls chin and neck, drool sliding down her heaving
chest as the thin girl took her breaths in deep greedy gasps. Her own hands
came up instinctively as the blonde suddenly giggled at her drunkenly and
closed in. Her mind flushed with sudden fear, probably irrational now that
Tonks was present, but still the fear that her treatment from earlier that
night might be repeated shot through as the other girl’s panting mouth closed
in.
Then Dior’s arms were wrapped around Hermione’s shoulders and she was kissing
her face, and Hermione knew what the aristocratic blonde’s sudden frenzy was
about instantly.
There was something about the musty sort of scent that clung to the other girls
face, the taste of it on her tongue… it simply drew her mind and body in a
manner that her inner voice of sanity found terrifying, an instinctual pull
that was simply unyielding and irresistible. She had enough time to realize
that other girl was kissing her, and that she was kissing back for some reason
she couldn’t explain, and then the haze of lust that seemed to have consumed
the blonde’s mind slammed into her own head and she knew only that she needed
more.
Hermione was instantly addicted to it, to the sheer strength of that power that
had captured her and blasted the thoughts from her mind. It blinded her so
fully that the next time she opened her eyes; she found that she was somehow
nose deep in the hot flesh that joined Tonks’s oversized member with her
weighty sack, cheek to jowl with an angrily scowling, but also frantically
licking Violet. And that she was taking deep, quick, desperate breaths that
made her lungs feel heavy and her head foggy, like she was drowning in the
older teen’s powerful essence.
She watched blankly as the shape-changer sternly grabbed a growling Violet with
a fist in her orange tangles, noticing idly out of the corner of her eyes how
Melody was red-faced and nearly hyperventilating into her hands in the crook of
Tonks’s arm, while the teen pulled her sudden rival up and presented her with
the head of the shaft that had been recently freed from Dior’s throat.
She stopped thinking about her little sister as Violet’s eyes clouded. The
smaller girl seemed to be overcome by the sight before her, moving swiftly to
try her turn at the top, blocking both the younger image of herself and the
visibly panting Tonks from her view, and as they faded her brain refocused on
collecting as much of the power, with its musty smell and taste, as she
possibly could.
While the shape-changer gasped and moaned, Violet lapping up and down her
throbbing shaft, Hermione noticed a grinning Dior pressing herself into the
redhead’s former place to slobber her way drunkenly lower and lower down the
young woman’s plump thigh.
Tonks seemed to understand the affect she had caused on them, Hermione’s inner
voice observed quietly, but the teen was hardly apologetic if her moaned,
“Whoops, guess I laid it on a little thick…” was any indication. Hermione
didn’t know it, but Tonks was actually getting exactly what she had drunkenly
intended to, and she grinned down at them like a wolf as she gave the cutie
situated in the crook of her arm a fat kiss on the cheek, chuckling in
amusement as the wide-eyed little girl squeaked and hid her blushing face in
the armpit of her robe.
And so far, and probably against the odds, her hastily put together plan was
working perfectly. Hermione seemed to have forgotten about her earlier trauma,
Dior had been literally punishing herself, and Violet was even tolerating the
presence of other girl’s long enough for all three of them to combine their
efforts. And to top the night off, she was even getting halfway decent head as
a reward for her drunken “genius”.
“You girls are gonna have to do better than that if you want to get me over the
edge.” She teased throatily down at the three of them as she held back a muscle
spasm that would have forced herself deeper into Violet’s mouth than would have
been safe for the diminutive redhead. Still she reveled in the feelings of the
three enthralled young girls desperately licking, and sucking all over her cock
and groin, dragging her swiftly to the edge, and she had to fight against the
urge to simply let go, no matter how hard she wanted to lay into them and enjoy
the sensations.
She chuckled to herself as the three kneeling between her legs didn’t even
react to her teasing. She had known that she had laid the compulsion on pretty
thick, but her words didn’t even seem register with any of the trio between her
legs, and Tonks found herself grinning down at them nostalgically as they
continued their semi-focused worship of the powerful magical signature that had
snared them in its web. Working in unison and building towards that moment of
release that would grant them the fulfillment they were so desperate to gain.
Tonks grinned to herself as she made a realization. The entire situation
reminded her an awful lot of her own first year as a student. She had come in
as a right little hellion, determined to make trouble and cause chaos. She had
been good bit like Violet was actually…
It had taken only until her third day before her own Esquire had finally had
enough. The fifth year had dragged her by the ear into an alcove in the
Astrology Spire, then proceeded to give her a hands on lesson on how to
properly please a woman right then and there. Determined to show her how she
was going to make up for being such a tremendous pain in the ass, and working
her over until Tonks’s tongue had gone numb from the effort.
The fact that the three of them had managed to beat her best effort by two
whole days wasn’t lost on the shape-shifter, and neither were their concerted
efforts to bring her to climax.
They were even pretty good, all things considered. Even Hermione, who Tonks had
expected to have little to no experience whatsoever, was only a little below
average in her frantic attempt at technique. The frizzy brunette was laying
into her shaft with lots of desperate sucking and long fast licks, the
magically intoxicated Greek seemed to be trying to be as sloppy as possible to
make up for her total lack of experience.
Tonks could have made her penis smaller of course, easier for the trio of cock-
drunk little Firsties to handle, but there was a certain dark thrill that went
through the seventeen-year old at seeing Dior and Hermione’s little heads
bobbing up and down as they went kissing and slobbering all over her
proportionally huge thighs, balls and the sides of her oversized shaft.  She
leaned back slightly into the couch as she drank it in. From there she could
better enjoy the sight of Violet, the angry tiny hellion that she was, trying
her best to wedge more than the first inch past her obscenely stretched little
lips.
Suffice to say that the young woman was quite enjoying herself as she let them
bathe her in pleasure. Then, before she could even react, Dior decided to take
a risky gamble, and Tonks found herself in a sudden desperate battle to keep
from exploding down Violet’s throat. The braided blonde mop had bobbed out of
sight for a moment, and Tonks thought nothing of it as the girl continued
licking at her inner thighs, but then she felt the sexually aggressive tween’s
nose press in hard to part her plump cheeks, and a long slender tongue forced
it’s way past her unprepared rosebud and it shot as deep inside as the blonde
could get it.
“HOLY FUCK!” Tonks groaned in shock and pleasure, caught completely unprepared
as her entire body seized up as that final irresistible wave of hot pleasure
burst from her groin, she yanked a suddenly gagging Violet swiftly off her
cockhead before the bucking of her hips could force it even deeper than it had
already gone, and with a swift hand she was mindlessly aiming her helmet head
straight at Hermione’s wide-eyed face.
The teens shout shocked Hermione back from her worship, she had noticed Dior
going lower but had barely registered it as the blonde’s head nestled below her
chin, but Tonks’s sudden violent jerking popped her mouth free from where she
had been suckling at the side of the shaft. Before she could react the first
blast caught her in mid-pant, the thick streak of glimmering silver shooting
straight down into the back of her throat. Her brain misfired as she choked on
the string of thick cum suddenly covering her airway, dark instincts dragged up
by the older teen’s enthrallment forcing her blindly down onto the exploding
cock just fast enough to catch the third blast in her mouth, the second having
burst itself across her face, leaving her blinded as she shot forward and
started swallowing desperately in reflex.
It was instantly more of everything she had needed during the entire session,
even the first stream that she had almost inhaled had been like a splash of
water to her intoxicated and overwhelmed senses, but unlike the cold slap of
water this felt hot and tasted like salt and ocean. Her face burned and tingled
with embers of pleasure where the spurt of semen had splashed a thick layer
across it, and simply the feeling of it resting there made her senses feel fuzz
and caused her groin to throb with need. Her mind shot back into reality and
her weariness blew past her. Tonks’s heady musk that had ensnared her mind
before tore like a veil. Leaving her awake with a throat choked with cum, a
mouth stuffed half with cockhead and half absolutely stuffed with growing
contents the of the third and fourth salty streams, despite her suddenly
panicked swallowing.
But before she could do anything to react with her newfound clarity of mind,
all the space that had been left in her mouth was finally gone. And most of the
fifth blast went shooting back out her nose. She yanked herself back, snapping
her mouth closed instinctively, only to be sprayed in the face again, and then
again. Finally the bucking, moaning teen above her seemed to find it in herself
to change her aim, and she could hear the spurts splashing against Violet’s
face, if the shocked growling was anything to go by.
She sat back on her haunches and shivered hard in sheer pleasure, the sticky
stuff coating her face and chest was thick, not runny like she had read it
would be in the anatomy books back home. It felt hot, burning the skin it clung
to with pleasure. It was the magic in it that caused the carnal heat Hermione
realized, as she resisted the urge to cough out her mouthful as she gagged
again, trying to swallow it all dutifully, mindful that this was still a
punishment from an authority figure. She could taste the teens power in it, a
flavor that she could only described as “Tonks” as it slid thickly over her
tongue.
As the hot slime slid down her throat and pooled into her stomach, it suddenly
came to her to connect the feeling of magical heat spreading through her
abdomen with that draining, chilling feeling that had been forced onto her
earlier that night.
There was a sort of slurping noise, which made her center clench hard as she
realized what the sound must have come from. Someone pressed her back gently…
Dior, obviously done with her dirty work had come and embraced her, the soft
hands had to belong to the blonde, and she allowed herself to be laid down onto
here side without a struggle.
“Sorry about this…” The other girl whispered cheekily into her ear, and she
felt the other girl laying herself down alongside her. Hermione was about to
ask what for, when she felt something that was absolutely not a finger slide
across her tightly closed eyelid.
“Oh, for the love of God!” She groaned out loud, realizing that the other girl
was licking the cum off her eyes, and then shivering hard as she remembered
exactly where that tongue had been buried only a short time ago.
The blonde just chuckled in amusement at her obvious disgust, quickly moving on
to the rest of her face and allowing Hermione to open her eyes and glare over
at her. “Did you REALLY have to use your mouth for that?” She ground out in
fresh annoyance after the taller girl had finished, no longer tired anymore,
but not willing to actually do anything that might encourage Tonks to have her
give a repeat performance.
Dior just swallowed the collected slime and chuckled nervously at her glare,
embracing her again. She slid a finger though the thick strands of cum that had
landed in her freshly messy braids, offering a bit of the pale gunk  to
Hermione as she flipped them both over so that she lay on top of the blonde.
That wasn’t going to cut it now. Not now that Hermione was back in her right
state of mind. She remembered how the blonde had treated her when she had been
alone and exhausted, and by the extremely nervous look the other girl was
giving her, so did she…
And now the sandal was on the other foot, wasn’t it?
Hermione snarled angrily down at the blonde, enjoying the way the other girl’s
throat worked as she swallowed hard in response, Dior’s body going limp in
submission beneath her glare. “Come on, don’t be mad, I said I’d do you too-”
Her pleads for mercy, and any possible retribution was cut off by Tonks.
“Alright, come on now you two, enough fighting in the bloody study hall, or
didn’t you lot learn your lesson?” The teen asked teasingly, observing them
coolly.
She slid herself off of the blonde and looked over at the rest of the room.
Tonks was still sitting lazily on the couch; Melody sitting bunched up in the
crook of the teens arm, her younger sibling was shooting everyone in the room a
look that was absolutely scandalized. Violet was quietly kneeling nearby,
slowly and methodically running a finger through the semen that was splattered
all over her upper body and hair, suckling the digit clean and trembling every
so often.
Their Esquire lorded over her handiwork for a minute, motioning for Hermione
and Dior to slide back over into kneeling positions next to Violet. “Alright,
you and you,” she pointed the hand over Melody’s shoulders at Dior and Violet,
after they had waited for the latter to mostly cleaned herself off, “are both
are going to go back to wherever it was that you were set up to sleep tonight
and, you are both going to bed!” The teen huffed out warningly, standing slowly
and letting her robe slide closed again, hiding her nudity.
Violet and Dior sat and stared uncertainly for a moment. “Now!” The teen
snapped, flashing that deep, heavy magic again, and making both girls scramble
up for the door in shock.
When they had rushed out the door, Tonks fixed her with a tired look. The buxom
teen pinching the bridge of her nose at Hermione either in irritation or
thought, before she seemed to reach some conclusion and swung her jug up to
drain the last cup or so of alcohol in a single gulp.
“You just can’t keep yourself out of trouble can you?” The young woman asked
Hermione rhetorically. “Alright, fuck it… follow me squirts.”
The pet name would normally have been humiliating, but after Dior and Violet
scrambled out, she found it reassuring to be labeled something so innocent. She
had been humiliated for real tonight, Pansy and Dior had seen to that already.
Even just the memory of what had happened earlier made her feel so vulnerable
caused the trembles to start up again, and her nails dug hard into her palms in
shame, frustrated at her bodies own weakness. Tonks noticed her start to shake
and raised an eyebrow, but said nothing as Hermione followed her dutifully out
of the study and down the winding hallway towards the dorm.
Melody, having not been awakened before Violet had entered, blinked in
confusion at her sister’s unusual behavior, before chalking it up as some-side
effect of the madness that had just concluded. The nine-year old stopped and
wondered about it for a moment, before taking the time to pick up her older
sisters robe at some unnoticed compulsion before she rushed down the hall to
catch up with them.
As she was lead down the hall, Hermione abruptly felt a swell of bile rise in
her throat. It hit her that no matter how strong she felt compared to most of
her peers, that even if it was just the level of power the teen had already
displayed, Tonks could hurt her easily if the older girl wanted to… even with
physical might alone. She was alone again, totally at the older and stringer
girl’s mercy, and there was nothing she could do to stop her if the lusty teen
decided that she wanted to take something more from her.
As she was realizing this, they stopped about halfway to the dorms and the teen
ran a finger in a simple pattern down the stone wall.  It bent, as the bathroom
doorway had bent in the hallway to the baths, but revealed a small winding
staircase instead of a series of stalls.
Her heart stopped as she realized they were clearly not going back to the
dorms, and every terrible scenario she had thought of so far tonight came
crashing back. She stood there paralyzed as Melody came around the corner with
her forgotten robe; the smaller girl stopped a good ways back, peering at the
scene uncertainly.
“T…” She stopped and took a deep breath, trying to stop the hitches in her
breathing and calm the fear insides as the question hit her, she didn’t even
want to ask for fear of the answer. “Tonks, what are you going to…” Hermione
flushed with fear and shame and together they made her body tremble harder, she
couldn’t even bring herself to finish the sentence.
She didn’t have to, long slender arms wrapped down around her shoulders and she
felt the teen nuzzle her hair gently, the warm sticky wetness from earlier
returning and causing her body to relax into the embrace. “Listen to me
Hermione; I’m not taking you here to rape you, or your little sister.” The teen
let her own core open and she pulled Hermione’s smaller one inside, trying to
express her honesty as she pleaded with the obviously panicking girl.
“I’ll even promise you both that.” The teen reassured her frankly, with the
answer to question she hadn’t even the courage to actually ask, and Hermione
could feel both the promise’s affect as it took hold of them both, and its
sincerity caressed her somewhere deep inside her chest.
Her legs gave out as the sudden relief shattered her as readily as any
cannonball would, and Tonks grabbed hold of her before she could even start to
collapse, catching her trembling body easily with only a single arm. Then the
normally bubbly Esquire picked her up effortlessly, like Hermione was a pillow
in her arms and not a young girl, and she motioned silently for Melody to
follow her as the climbed up the short winding staircase.
“First of all, I would definitely get in a shit-ton of trouble…” the teen told
her, a in an almost disbelieving tone, “even if it wasn’t school sanctioned
trouble; I very much doubt the rest of the upperclassmen would look on that
level of misbehavior very kindly.” The teen griped down into her sweaty frizzes
soothingly as they reached the top of the staircase.
Tonks chuckled lightly and kissed at the corner of her eye as she looked up at
the teen. “I asked my Esquire something similar when I was your age, and I
think what she told me went something like, “you don’t snatch the younger years
when you’re in your senior years, because your seniors didn’t do it to you, and
that way everyone gets a fair shot at putting together fair, socially
functional covens.” It would be too unfair otherwise. ”She finished softly, but
with a happy lilt to her voice, clearly casting herself back to the pleasant
memory.
They reached the top of the stairs and Hermione peered out into a little
octagonal room with a low ceiling, dimly moonlit by a single large multi-paned
window of clear glass on the far wall. The rest of the chamber’s walls were
draped in dark red and purple blankets, and there seemed to be some sort of
huge cushion instead of any kind of proper flooring. Her head swiveled and she
saw that the dim little rooms only real contents were a little wooden cabinet
built into the junction of two of the walls, and a huge pile of blankets and
pillows that took up nearly the whole floor. “So why did you have me…” Again
she swallowed but couldn’t finish, looking away in humiliation even as the
curvy teen laid her down into a thick cashmere blanket that smelled like
heaven. The feel and smell left her body relaxing so hard it felt like it was
melting, as she sunk down into the blankets and padding below her at least a
full foot under nothing but her own body weight, and Hermione had to resist the
urge to simply burrow down and never come back up.
The teen rolled her eyes as she saw the way the bookish firstie go limp in the
blankets, and she leaned down and rubbed Hermione’s nose playfully with her
thumb to keep the girl awake. Melody squeaking behind her as the door to the
room disappeared now that it was no longer needed. “There’s a big difference
between having to blow an older student, who is authorized to give out
punishments to underclassmen who are breaking rules, and between an
upperclassmen or staff member doing something that isguaranteed to result in
some level of sexual bond for you against your will.” The teen her lecture
continued in relaxed exasperation. Sitting down herself and sinking deeply into
a large pile of pillows next to where she had laid Hermione, Tonks slid her
robe free and pulled the curly haired eleven-year old into her lap very gently
and slowly, cautiously observing the reaction of her charge.
Immediately the Hermione stiffened at Tonks’s actions, but then she noticed a
big difference in the older teen as her naked butt slid down into the junction
between the older girl’s legs.
Tonks raised an eyebrow in exasperation, wrapping her arms around the bookish
girls waist as Hermione twisted back to give her a questioning look. “Relax a
little kid, I’m trying not to make you panic again, so of course I’m not going
to have that out.” She grumbled, smirking as at the girls gasp as Melody
plopped herself into Hermione’s lap totally uninvited.
Hermione let herself relax against the teen’s larger frame for what felt like
hours, but she knew to be only a few minutes. She still felt safe as she let
her head rest back between Tonks’s naked breasts, squeezing her little sister
close in her arms. So even when the older girl withdrew the warm pressure from
inside her body, Hermione felt secure in her cautious embrace. But that
peaceful feeling was shattered seconds later, as they sunk deeply into the
furrow made into the pile of pillows and Tonks tossed a thick blanket over all
three of them. “Now Hermione,” she whispered into the frizzy brown mane
cautiously, “I want you to tell me exactly what happened from the moment when I
left the dorm, to when I was summoned back, and then I’m going to tell you what
you did wrong tonight.” Her small frame stiffened in the teen’s arms as the
older girl reached forwards to cup her chin, forcing her to turn and glance up
into her deep brown eyes.
Hermione shook her head, hiding her eyes behind her frizzy brown hair.  “I-
I don’t want to talk…” She whimpered in protest, squeezing her little sister
like she might a stuffed rabbit. “Please don’t.” The begging words tumbled out
again before she could stop them, and they made her feel absolutely pathetic
the moment she had finished saying them.
Tonks didn’t mock her, but also didn’t budge an inch. The stronger teen simply
grabbed her, and twisted her body around further to lay spooned against her
with her head in the crook of her arm, and then she forced her to look her in
the eyes again. “Listen to me.” The older girl said, pulling her tight and
rolling her eyes at Melody whining at being dislodged. “That’s not an option,
because if you don’t let me help you with this, then you’ll never be rid of it,
and you’ll have to live with this and it will gnaw at you inside. And trust me
when I say that the other girls will be able to smell that, and what they did
to you tonight is going to keep happen again and again because of it. And
provided they don’t get sloppy and fuck it up like Dior and Pansy did, then I’m
not allowed to stop what’s going to be happening to you…” The teen finished
ominously, and Hermione’s hands clenched hard as she understood the teen
already knew what had been done to her.
That shame made her stomach clench and she had to resist the urge to break down
and start sobbing hysterically into the well-proportioned chest beneath her.
“What is that even supposed to mean?” She begged into the girl’s breast, not
even noticing that she was making her younger sister anxious with her constant
stress. “Why can’t you help me? I thought that was your job.”
The warm pressure came back and this time she suddenly felt almost smothered
between it and the older girl’s real body heat. “You’re a smart girl; didn’t
you even wonder why the dorms bedding area is so small for forty-eight girls
Hermione, why there are only fifteen little tents for all of you?” The teen
spoke a little bitterly into her hair.
“It’s called the pecking order Hermione. That kind of shit is supposed to
happen, and you’re supposed to fight each other for the top spot… for
dominance. It’s just one of the consequences of having magic kid.” She ruffled
Hermione’s fluffy hair soothingly. “Your core… your magic sticks you with a
whole different set of rules and instincts, and those are there because we’ve
always lived differently from the way the mundane live.”
The young woman sighed tiredly and leaned further back in thought. “Most of
those this shit goes way deep Hermione, back further than Leng or even
Atlantis, back far enough that it’s imbedded into the very Ley lines
themselves, into the fabric of what gives Human’s magic.”
“Think about it. The non-magical people, they’ve always to struggle together to
survive. But even a moderately powerful wizard can do that easily all on his
own, and so on that base sort of level we don’t need each other or anyone else…
for anything really, except making babies, and wizards don’t normally don’t
form real societies.” The girl continued as something small and ray-like flew
by outside the window, flapping slowly. “You hear about the wizard in his
tower, or the hermit in his swamp, and sure they might get together at a summit
every once and awhile, but the point is that they would never stay together
because they have no reason to. Us witches have it a little easier in that
regard, the covens keep us close so we can raise our kids and lure in powerful
wizards to bind and make more kids with, but it’s still like putting cats in a
bag Hermione.” The teen gave her a pitying look, rubbing her back calmingly.
“Everyone has to fight to figure out where everyone stands.”
“The pecking order…” Hermione echoed the teen, taking in what Tonks had told
her so far with a thick swallow.
The shape-shifter nodded. “That’s why Atlantis, and the other civilizations of
the First Age of Men are held in such high esteem, they were led by wizards,
and that’s why they’ve always been considered so historically groundbreaking.
It’s why Dumbledore is so famous too, he helped figure out a system that would
let us live together in the modern times… better than we’ve ever been able to
before. And not just with each other but with the mundane too.” The teen
finished, tilting her head meaningfully at Melody, before allowing Hermione and
and her sister a moment to snuggle deeper into her embrace.
“Then why aren’t you like that? How is it that any of this works at all?”
Hermione questioned softly, inhaling the scent of older girls sweat as Melody
snuggled up to her, drowsiness taking over again as she gave in to the natural
warmth of their shared body heat.
“It’s called your “Compulsion” Hermione, that savage voice in your head that
echoes out from your magic, and its power over you gets weaker as you get older
and your body and brain are less flooded with hormones. You learn to control it
better too, as you fight, form bonds, make love, and practice your magic.
You’ll learn to feel out what it wants and how to master it in class too.” The
teen yawned, and Hermione felt the vibration in her head it as much as she
heard it. “Cores… their actually pretty complex things, and there are a bunch
of different types and little variations, and each one wants something
different.” She trailed off quietly as both of the girls in her arms seemed to
enter a deep state of relaxation.
“Point is, at your age, you need to take peoples actions with a grain of salt…
not let yourself get to bothered by things.” Tonks advised idly. “I mean, you
were going to get in a fight with Violet before I broke it up. Your compulsion
had you ready to go at a girl you didn’t even know before today, but it’s not
like you were angry with her or anything like that.”
Hermione shook her head in reply, and Tonks continued. “Remember that, how it
felt to be under that sway, and remember that a lot of people’s actions at your
age aren’t necessarily what they would do normally.” She finished sagely.
“So, I think I’ve answered you’re questions… so can you answer mine now?” She
whispered down to Hermione, her free hand rubbing a slow trail down Hermione’s
back to the swell of her little butt and up again to try and keep the girl
calm.
The question still made her shiver, but now after her curiosity had been
answered; her body would let her speak. “I went to study because I didn’t want
to be behind the others tomorrow, and I sort of… lost track of time.” She spoke
into the tuft of fluff in the teen’s armpit, not wanting the compassionate
older girl to see her face. “Dior and Pansy came in, and at first I didn’t
realize they wanted anything untoward. But then Pansy… it was like cold glass
pressing against me, and the cold feeling made me even more tired.” She looked
up, past her own frizzy bangs, to see Tonks looking back down at her. She
swallowed in nervousness. “She was shaking, and fell over panting and moaning…
I didn’t understand what had happened.”
Tonks’s rubbing on her back became firmer, the hand suddenly feeling hot
against her skin. “She was draining your core.” The teen answered. “Leeching
out your magic to feed her own. Normally girls don’t do that to other girls
unless they’re fighting, because boys naturally have more magic anyway… so that
they can keep their coven fed.”
Hermione sighed at the explanation, breaking eye contact to nuzzle her head
back onto the teen’s naked breast tiredly. “But I’m not like that am I?”
The plump mound her head was laying on hitched as Tonks snorted. “Considering
your core is the third biggest out of a group of sixty students, behind only
Harry’s and Neville’s, you’ve easily got most of the boys beat.” She chuckled
again as Melody started snoring lightly into her breast. “But ok, then what?”
Hermione nodded at Tonks’s assessment, having pretty much felt that much out
earlier and she steeled herself to continue. “Then Dior rushed up really close
and she was mocking me, then she unhooked her robe. She was naked, and I didn’t
understand why she would want to be naked with me, but then she pushed me back
against the chair and then was pressing against me and grabbing at my body and
she wouldn’t stop kissing me. I kept begging for her to stop but she wouldn’t
let me go, and she kept going further and furt-.”
The heat from her hand on her back intensified, radiating though her chest and
abdomen as her breath started hitching, in response to the tears that were
starting to drip freely into the crook of Tonk’s shoulder. “Then Pansy got up,
and they pulled my cloak off and she twisted my arms back and they started
touching me down there, and I was so tired I couldn’t get away from them, and
Dior then drained me too… and when she was done…” She had to stop for a second,
and swallow before she could choke out the admission. “My body was still hot
from it and I didn’t want it to be, I hated it. I still hate it.” She finally
spat it out unhappily.
Tonks kissed the top of her head compassionately. “You understand the reason
Dior and Pansy were doing that stuff to you right?” It was a question, but the
attractive Esquire’s tone made it clear that she thought Hermione could piece
together the answer by herself.
“Because I’m powerful?” She asked, though her quiet sobbing, not quite able to
force herself to stop and state it clearly.
She could feel the teen’s nod of affirmation against her hair. “Exactly, even
as a foreigner from a mundane family, you would make an excellent asset to
anyone looking to add to a coven. And Dior and Pansy are both from old
wizarding families, so you can believe me when I tell you that they were
thinking of it from that perspective.”  The teen paused. “I don’t actually know
if they meant to hurt you in the manner that they did, I would tend to think
they just thought you were being a baby about getting caught in the lurch, and
they were meaner than they normally would have been.” She finished her
explanation cautiously.
Hermione nodded, understanding starting to dawn on her despite the tears she
couldn’t stop from continuing. “They just thought I was being a baby?” She
hiccupped out, the incredulity almost enough to make her laugh in spite of
herself as she suddenly remembered the forceful blonde’s repeated assurance of
paying her back in pleasure later.
“I thinks so squirt.” The shapely teen, who had had easily become Hermione’s
favorite person so far in this hell she was being dragged through, responded to
her changing emotions by her prodding warmly. “But go on, I don’t think you’ve
got much left.”
She nodded in submission to the verbal nudge. “Violet showed up… and when she
did she scared Pansy and Dior. They dropped me, and I was on my knees and it
just all hit me at once, you know? I was feeling so dirty and humiliated, then
the compulsion…” she felt out the term for the unfamiliar sensation in her
mouth, “it started… talking, and I was listing to it.” She looked back up at
Tonks. “It told me to hurt them, and that I needed to put them in their places
for humiliating me, and for even seeing me humiliated.”
Tonks nodded in understanding. “That it does, and will continue to do until
there is a proper hierarchy established among all the girls in the dorm.” She
said warningly before moving on to advice. “Look Hermione, Dior and Pansy have
far weaker cores than you do, and to be honest the only girl even close to
yours is Violet.” Tonks seemed to think to herself for a moment. “Dior and
Pansy will be easy, just pick a fight with them in the dorm don’t hold back and
you’ll have them desperately eating your kitten where everyone can see it in in
no time.” The shapely teen chuckled at her bad metaphor. “Violet on the other
hand, she’s likely to be trickier. She’s aggressive, in very good shape
physically, and trained in various forms of combat… I would build your position
up first, take advantage of the fact that already being bonded leaves her out
of the normal hierarchy forming, and get a few girls under your belt before you
tried to top her.” The teen finished, pulling her and her sister closer as she
laid further back into the pillows.
Hermione mulled over the advice, then relaxed happily as Tonks started
playfully cooing into her ear before the teen went leaning down and kissed her
forehead. Then Tonks grinned at her and reached her free arm out, and Hermione
could hear the cabinet opening across the room.
The teen gently prodded her chin up and planted a sweet kiss across Hermione’s
lips, she imagined she could taste the alluring older teens pride in her for
allowing the teen to see her so vulnerable in it. “How about a little drink
before bed?” The shape-shifter asked her as Hermione lay back down across the
teen’s body, her taller form shifting into something distinctly less muscular
and a bit plusher and even better-rounded beneath her, and her eyes fluttered
in shock as the teens breasts expanded right beneath her head.
She gulped hard, knowing for certain that the older girl could hear it this
time, and gave the smirking teen a modernly shocked look, not initially making
the obvious connection and assuming Tonks was going to breastfeed her. 
Tonks seemed to see the misjudgment in her eyes, and she shot Hermione a tired
but amused grin and waggled the little glass bottle in her free hand. “A drink
of mead Hermione…” She trailed off smugly, popping the cork with a hand motion
and taking a big gulp. “Unless of course, you wanted to try the tap?” She
probed teasingly, the arm wrapped around Hermione’s side moving up to run a
finger over the erect nipple next to her head.
That made her swallow hard again, and she shook her head in refusal of the
offer, though not with nearly as much certainty as she would have liked. “What
kind of stuff’s that?” Hermione asked the teen, pointedly looking at Tonks’s
grinning face and not her currently massive chest.
“It’s honey wine,” the teen replied, “trust me you’ll like it.”
Her arm reached up for the bottle from where she had cast it around Melody’s
slumbering waist, but Tonks gave her a mischievous smile in response, she
squeezed Hermione tighter and wiggled her eyebrows. Then bottle came up to the
supportive teens plump lips again, and she took a deep draught, then she pulled
Hermione’s upper body up and slightly forward so she could kiss her properly on
the lips again.
“Open” Came the compulsion echoing across their apprentice bond, and she let
her lips fall agape, The beautiful teen’s tongue following slowly as she passed
Hermione several mouthful of sweet fluid and the other girl kissed her
cautiously, nothing at all like the Dior’s desperate, aggressive ministrations
from earlier.
‘She’s a better kisser too.’ Hermione found herself idly thinking as her body
quickly melted atop Tonks’s, the alcohol in the wine and the slow sensual kiss
doing the work of leaving her slumped limply across the young woman’s plush
warm figure as the teen separated their mouths as gently as she had kissed
her. 
If she had the strength left in her to laugh she would have, having never
thought she would ever be comparing the kissing talents of two girls. In that
moment, she found it was a comical thought for some reason, as Tonks broke the
kiss and muttered in amusement something about her being a lightweight. Then
readjusted her boneless form so she was tucked back in, wrapped around the teen
and her younger sister… Hermione smiled.
It was seconds later that she was plunging into the dreamlands, and for her,
the night had finally ended.
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Ok, this part of the story clearly escaped its holding pen… what was supposed
to be three or four pages of flashback turned into almost fifty, the longest
chapter yet.
And despite the fact that the plot chapter is going to have to wait for a while
longer while I hack it apart and re-write major parts of it, I’m not actually
displeased by the way this turned out.
The chapter actually fits a lot of information on various things that I wanted
to cover; in a manner I think even feels pretty natural. And I do like the sort
of tone and feeling I managed to get with this one, so I’m not actually that
annoyed by it in that sense.
As for the wait on this one, it the stuff I have already covered, plus me
trying to fully flesh out the backstory of the world and the way magic fits
into everything else fully. A good bit the results of that are even on display
in this chapter.
Side note: I also just figured out what the "Rich Text" Button does in the Post
New Chapter page... and boy do I feel stupid. So I'll probably go back and do
some minor editing of previous chapters later, when I fix the formatting on the
ones that need it.
And as always, any reviews, comments or flames are welcome.
***** Mornings can be a pain in the Ass... *****
Alright! Finally we get to the first morning… and it only took 8 chapters.
The next chapter will be the first day's classes, as I keep writing bloody
massive chapters that take forever to go through and proofread and I wanted to
get this out for you guys sooner than later... this is exactly what happened
last chapter.
Part of which was me being uncertain on how I wanted to handle some things, I
had a few funny ideas given to me by a friend and I thought they fit well
enough to be included in some measure. Trying to figure out how to handle that
properly was one of the reasons this has been taking so long.
On a related note, I’ve been blown away by the amount of people who seem to be
interested in the details of my little alternate history scenario… Oh who am I
kidding, right? We're all here for the smut. ;)
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Arael swept across the smoke choked skies of the holy city, dodging through the
towering marble buildings and gigantic temples. Her white wings beating lazily
from exhaustion as she alighted on a conveniently placed granite statue that
jutted out from one of Rome’s more massive cathedrals.
Perched kneeling and breathing heavily on the massive carven head of some
saint, whose name she wasn’t in the mood to bother remembering. She flexed her
wings idly for a moment trying to relax her burning flesh as she caught her
breath, purposefully ignoring the stiffness pulsing up from their muscles and
the little popping sounds that came from the delicate wing bones. Then she
stood and quickly rushed into the candlelit depths of the cathedral.
There were a host of other stretches that she was supposed to be doing after
such a long flight, and she knew she was ignoring them even though they were
meant to keep her body in the religiously held shape of perfection that it was,
despite all that that she understood that now was not the time for such
luxuries.
After all, there was a message to be delivered…
The waifish, immortal, teenager had been fulfilling the task she had been
assigned for most of the past hundred years. Having long ago lost count of the
number of days she had spent floating high above various groups of heathens and
blasphemers listing to them gossiping to one another about various inanities.
However, never in all that time had she heard of a matter as urgent as this
one, so serious that had just sent her fleeing back to the capitol like the
Beast himself  was nipping at her wingtips.
In fact, she probably would have admitted that her job was usually quite boring
if asked, it was certainly not as illustrious when compared to leading a
battalion of knights or one of the centuries of a legion into a glorious
battle. The thought of that incongruity usually brought a smile across her
ethereal features; there were a lot of tasks the members of the Host preformed
that the common citizen of Rome probably wouldn’t have considered to be worthy
of their station. Despite all that though, Arael had always done her job
loyally and she believed that she did it well.
Most recently she had been trailing across the darkened skies of the most
famous and ancient trade route, the Silk Road. The cold desert steppes of the
region had been empty for nearly a whole week, and as she had begun to run low
on her supplies and she had been preparing to return to her Choir and report
the failure of her latest mission.
But then as she had been readying herself to leave she had struck gold. The
virtuous angel had spotted in the faraway distance, the plume of dust kicked up
by a massive caravan. At least a thousand camels strong, and with hundreds of
donkeys and oxen pulling huge wagons laden with finery and spices from the
lands in the east. Led along their way by their swarthy, bearded, Arab keepers,
who urged the huge procession urgently back across the parched Mongolian
landscape.
The Muslim men and their beasts were even being escorted by the horsemen of the
Great Kahn himself, the almond -eyed archers ready to protect the convoy from
bandit attacks on their way back to the Arabian Peninsula.
That in itself was hardly unusual or alarming. Instead it had been the
specifics of the conversation that had been going on between the two groups of
men, which had echoed up to her while she floated silently across the cloudy
Mongolian sky above them, that had filled her wings with the terrible urgency
that had compelled her to fly back to Rome so quickly.
The Arabs, who stroked at their bushy beards in thought as they recounted their
tales, had spoken to their guards about a great panic that was breaking out in
the Far East. Saying that it had been told to them that the Emperor of the Ming
had sent his own envoy to the Buddhist monks, living in their lofty palaces
high in the Himalayas on the request of his councilors, and that the news that
had come down the mountains had stunned them all into such a state of alarm
that the Forbidden City itself had been shut down entirely while the monks
portents were hotly debated by the scholars and all of the learned men of Sinae
alike.
Arael had immediately recognized that this news was to be of great importance
to the Roman Empire. For while the Ming were not formally allied with any of
the Abrahamic nations, they were all together in a sort of unofficial agreement
in that they all frowned on the chaos bringing rule of wizards in unison, that
was one of the principle things that had made them worthy trading partners for
the peoples of Latium in the first place.
So to hear that the ruler of the land of the lands of Sinae had been rattled
was newsworthy enough, but then the bearded men of the caravan had continued.
Debating with their guards in great length about what the implications of the
decision that the mighty ruler had finally decided on might be. His plan was
apparently to send his huge treasure fleets to support the barbarous Aztecs and
the Templar traitors, bypassing the various Polynesian Leagues which would
doubtlessly abstain from the conflict until they could decide on a unified
course of action, with his intent to make war with the Mayans and their other
allies in the lands of the Far Continent.
And the stories had gotten even better, though only in a manner that chilled
her heart. Speaking conspiratorially in hushed tones to their Mongol guards,
they recounted at great length the whispered accounts that they had heard for a
price in certain eastern markets. Specifically of the omens that had been seen
in the skies, and that the monks had interpreted them as telling of a plague
that would blot out the sun and devour all the nations it fell upon.
That had been more than enough news for her, and as soon as the conversations
of the caravan had turned back to more mundane matters, Areal had slipped
seamlessly from hovering overhead of the massive procession and beat a hasty
retreat across the skies straight to Rome.
Now, nearly a full fortnight later, Arael burst into the entrance to their
“roost” with visible urgency on her face. The lowly nickname given to the
cathedrals themselves was something that normally brought a smile to her face,
as there had certainly been a proper title for the immense towers of caravan
marble and granite where the Angels dwelled. But at some point over the
centuries the idle but apt moniker, probably spread originally in jest, had
been adopted by all that called the towering monasteries home, including young
Arael herself.
But she wasn’t smiling now, too distracted by the weight of her message to pay
such idle thoughts any attention.
A choir of young Hopefuls practicing at a healing hymnal scattered before her
flustered entrance, the normal children were mostly orphans that the priesthood
had sent to serve the Choir in preparation for their own initiation into
various clerical or knightly orders, and their crowd of tiny cloaked frames
broke apart into respectful bowing as she burst through the glass-less alcove
window that the Angels used as an entryway.
Her head swiveled, loose white-hair finding its way into her eyes as she
scanned for people more than half her height in the small and currently dimly-
lit tower atrium, three white-winged forms stuck out to her immediately. Turel
was standing near the back of the atrium, leaning casually with his golden
spear set against the marble wall, speaking quietly to a grey-haired knight
from the order of the Hospitallers. Colopatiron and Kutiel, on the other hand,
were sitting and whispering quietly to each other over an unraveled scroll in a
nearby corner.
Aside from them, there were no other members of the either the Host in general
or the rest of her own Choir in the large tower’s entrance chamber. More
worrying was that the specific person she was looking for was missing.
She pursed her lips in indecision before finally rushing over towards where
Colopatiron and Kutiel were seated. “Do either of you know where Camael could
be found?” She blurted out, before being embarrassed by both her own abruptness
and obvious state of exhaustion.
Her two siblings blinked at her interruption of their studies. “Well good
morning to you as well Arael…” Kutiel grumbled coolly, turning away from their
younger sister to regard Arael’s disheveled appearance in a kind of palpable
amusement that didn’t quite reach his face, save for the briefest hints of a
smile at the edge of his lips.
Colopatiron frowned over at their brother’s reaction. Internally understanding
that, despite Arael’s reputation as a clueless airhead, she wouldn’t have
interrupted them in the manner she had unless she had finally overheard
something urgent. “We haven’t seen him all week, although I heard from Sariel
earlier that he was sent to lead a patrol somewhere north in the Black Forest…
apparently some of the villages there reported being harassed by a large and
aggressive pack of Wargs, and he went with a full flight of Powers to flush the
beasts out.”
That wasn’t good, he at the very least needed to know about the news
immediately, but there were other people she would need to tell anyways. “Do
you know where the Cornelius or Quintus would be then?” She half-begged them in
hurried aggravation, wiping the sweaty white locks that had come loose from the
long braid at the crown of her head.
The two sets of snow-haired heads nodded at her question. “They should be
together; last I heard Papa Cornelius was helping Caesar Quintus deal with some
more exceptional judicial cases with the rest of the Senate.” Her younger
sister answered, frowning at Arael’s lack of proper honorifics but after a few
moments of thought she continued. “So I’d assume they’re either at the Senate
Curia or the Imperial Palace...” The white-haired girl trailed off as Areal
abruptly turned to leave.
“Why all the stress though, what news has come to our attention Arael?” Kutiel
probed her, suddenly inquisitive as he realized the potential weight of her
mission if it was important enough to need to inform both the Chief of the
Powers and the leadership of the Western half of the Empire together.
The question stunned her, as she hadn’t really taken the time to think out the
implications, being so caught up in her own urgency to deliver her message. She
swallowed and resisted the urge to grin as it hit her. “I think the balance is
finally tipping brother… I think we’re going to war.”
 
                                       S
Morning broke in the cozy little chamber, the light from the window streaking
through the panes of clear glass and illuminating the room in an unusually
crisp detail.
Hermione stirred in her sleep. The sense of sudden awareness drawing her up
from her dreams, where formless wisps had slid sinuously through an ever-
changing maze of shimmering, crystalized, colors, and her soul slid up into the
waking world at its unquestionable command.
The curly-haired brunette was initially a little putout, as her sleepy mind was
suddenly thrust back into her body. The dream she had been having was one she
only remembered as being exceptionally informative and pleasant, and as with
any dream of such sort, she found herself suddenly missing that which she could
no longer even remember.
But the waking world was filled with pleasantry all of its own. Her smaller
frame was wrapped warmly against a large plush figure, ‘Tonks,’ she remembered
happily as she lay nuzzling into the crook of one of her Esquire’s currently
massive breasts, her smaller body wrapped loosely across the side of the tall
teenagers softly breathing form.
It was quiet, the blankets were soft, and the person beneath her was supple and
warm. She didn’t want to ever get up, but Tonks seemed to come to awareness
only moments after she did, and the shape-changing teen had other ideas. “Ready
for school yet sleepyhead?” The bubbly older girl whispered softly down into
the chaotic puff of chestnut bed-hair at the crown of her young charges head,
and Hermione felt the teen’s plush form shifting back into the more ‘reserved’
curves that the she normally displayed.  
“You’ve two all got a long day ahead of you after all, and after last night
you’ll probably be wanting a bath.” She teased the brunette in her arm softly,
catching a familiar whiff of her own salty musk still lingering in the younger
girl’s chestnut hair.
Hermione snuggled deeper against her in response, still wanting to recapture
her dreams, and preferring the pleasantness of her current place in the world.
“I don’t want to go.” She whined quietly, sliding herself across so she was
lying over Tonks’s stomach wand hiding her head in the dip between Tonks’s
breasts, wrapping her limbs tightly around the tall teen’s nude body. “I wanna
stay with you forever.” She grumbled, already knowing how childish it sounded
the moment it came out of her own mouth but still found herself wishing it
could be true nonetheless.
Tonks stiffened slightly underneath her at that declaration, and she could feel
the uncertain wetness rolling off the teen’s comparatively vast core, then
Tonks’s arms wrapped comfortingly around her back. “You shouldn’t say things
like that kid.” The bright-eyed shape-shifter chided her lightly, kissing the
top of her head. “You know I’ve already said I can’t bond you like that
Hermione, and besides…” Tonks ran a hand back up through Hermione’s curls,
twirling one playfully. “You’d be wasted with me; a lass like you ought to be
out there helping a lad to build a powerful coven, putting Dior back in her
place, that sort of stuff…” She teased her again, rubbing the fingers of her
free hand down the bumps of Hermione spine, as she snuggled the First-Year
closer.
Hermione frowned at that, her stomach rolling uncertainly at the potential
prospect of getting beaten again. “I’m not really much of a fighter you know…”
Tonks snorted in amusement, and Hermione felt the vibration in her own chest.
“And you think the Malfoys are? Trust me, it’s still mostly about raw power and
presentation with the girls your age, and I’m sure you’ll do fine in both
accounts.” She was forced to slide down into her Esquire’s heart-shaped lap as
the tall teen slid them into a seated position. “Besides that kid, aren’t you
even a little curious at what your little sister is doing?” She prodded
Hermione, her voice carrying a heaping helping of knowing smugness.
She released the teen’s waspish waist from her embrace, pulling her head away
from the pair of unarguably prefect breasts she had been distractedly nuzzling,
so that she could stare up incredulously into Tonks’s grinning face.
Melody was behind her at the window, she could feel that much easily. The
eight-year old felt distracted, her mind was completely engrossed in something.
Hermione huffed quietly in response, turning towards the window slowly, taking
the time to brush the wild stands of chestnut bedhead from her face and another
moment to squint into the brightness of the light… but when her eyes finally
adjusted she saw a wonder.
There was simply no other word she could have used that would have accurately
described what lay beyond the crystal panes; it could be revealing to her no
scene on Earth, for that she was instantly and completely certain.
For beyond the glass barrier was an almost dream-like landscape. Lit by a
shining pinprick that must have been a brilliantly violet star, hung high and
glimmering in the vault of an impossibly vivid blue sky, and which illuminated
the strangest scene that she could have imagined.
The first things that her eyes were drawn to below the immensity of the sky
were the trees… if the apparitions could even be called that.
Their fleshy, white, trunks looked to be about a foot thick, each standing
maybe ten or fifteen feet tall, and each perfectly pillar-like in that they did
not taper even slightly as they rose to their zenith.  One thing that stood out
obviously was that the trunks of the “trees” closest to their vantage point
were swaying oddly back and forth in a serpentine manner, and certain
regularly-spaced swellings in the flawless white flesh would slowly inflate
after each twist was complete, like they were taking deep gasps of the
shimmering air.
They were breathing!
And instead of leaves, each “plant” was capped with a large orchid-like crown
of fleshly blue growths. Each one was shaped like an odd combination of a
flower and a sea-anemone, with huge azure petals and long thin cilia, each
cilium dancing slowly in worship of the brilliance of the heavens under its own
power.
Then she noticed that pale trunks were ringed by a whirl of holes, and suddenly
a set of colorful appendages that resembled Christmas tree worms, of all
things, burst forth to playfully taste at the radiant light of the violet star.
Her hands came up and they rubbed at her eyes of their own accord, in total
disbelief as she slid from her Esquires lap. Tonks chuckling at her slack-jawed
reaction, and she crawled to the window in rapt attention to kneel where little
sister sat glued to the scene laid out before them.
It was absolutely impossible sight, of a loose sort of savanna-forest of things
which simply could not be trees, sitting beneath a vividly cerulean-colored
sky.
And now that Hermione had drawn herself closer she could see that there was no
obvious mid-sized undergrowth beneath the lip of the window, which might have
been hidden by her pervious vantage point, but instead that the ground between
the “trees” was heavily blanketed by a thick layer of dazzlingly scarlet “fern-
moss”.
Then several colorful flying animals went flitting their way between the trunks
of the “trees” and Hermione’s gaze snapped to them immediately. Finding them to
be a group of flamboyant little manta’s, each only as big as her hand, which
flapped butterfly-like closer and closer to their little window into the
unfamiliar world.
There was simply nothing like it that she had ever seen. “What in God’s name…?”
She found herself choking out in absolute astonishment, the sight of the alien
beauty laid before her simply stunning her beyond thought.
The older teen chuckled down at their wide-eyed awe, and she prowled her way
over to where they were kneeling by the glass portal. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?”
She asked them, her smooth voice oozing with obvious pleasure at their
wonderment.  
After a moment of staring, watching the little mantas chase each other between
the trees, Hermione finally found it in her to speak again. “What is this?
Where is this?” She begged the teenager for answers in absolute amazement.
Trying to understand what was before her, but knowing only that the sight
couldn’t possibly be real, that it simply had to be an illusion.
Tonks crawled up closer across the pillows and stopped between them, giving her
a wide grin. “I’ve got absolutely no idea,” she laughed in response, “I was
trying to make a window that showed the outside of the castle… and I obviously
failed at that, but I’ve always figured that it was just too awesome to fix
it.” The shape-shifter clarified, her puffed up hair turning the same
impossibly brilliant blue as the “anemone/flowers” that crowned the “trees”
outside. “I’ve got a journal in the cabinet with everything I’ve seen in it.
Professor Trelawney put me up to doing that, thinks this might have to do with
my “aural presence” or something like that.” She finished, quoting the words
aural presence with her fingers in amused sarcasm.
“It’s so beautiful…” Melody whispered slowly, completely dumbstruck at the
sheer beauty of the landscape laid out before them.
Tonks chuckled again, ruffling the younger girl’s hair in response. As a
strange animal that Hermione thought looked a bit like a very odd little
theropod dragon, but with a ducks beak and without arms or scales, stalked its
way nervously across their view .
“So… Hermione,” the teen probed her in that incredibly smug voice, “are you
ready to go to school now?”
                                       S
Harry awoke abruptly in the little teepee he and his twin had split with Draco
the night before.
He had actually been a little shocked to realize that Dior had been the
effeminate blonde’s half-sister and not the other boy’s twin like he had
initially assumed.
That had of course meant that while the willowy blonde had been resigned to
sleeping with Pansy somewhere down below, Harry and his twin had ended up
deciding to bunk with Draco. Who as it turned out, though Harry quickly
realized it should have been obvious with the other boy’s wizarding background,
was an extremely unobtrusive bed partner. The blonde was quick to take a place
on the other side of the tiny space inside the little black tent, across from
where Violet had flopped down, and after a few catlike stretches the blonde boy
had been out cold.
The night had been peaceful though, and even when Violet had snuck from the
tent claiming that she needed to use the restroom and returned glowering almost
an hour later, he had decided to just let it go.
It seemed now however, that the things he had ignored were yet again coming to
a head.
Case in point was Draco’s current predicament. “Pansy!” The blonde squawked,
instantly waking the other two of the tent’s sleeping occupants up at the same
moment. “What on earth has gotten in to you?” Harry and Violet heard the boy
plead with his black-haired betrothed, rising sleepily from the nested blankets
to see what the sudden commotion was about.
As he sat up, Harry could see that a naked Pansy had flipped the sleeping
blonde’s slender frame over her own gangly little body. Her slim hands gripped
his waist fiercely as she fought to pull his hips down against her pelvis. Her
face was visibly anxious and coated in a shiny layer of perspiration, the same
perspiration that visibly matted her short locks of her dark hair together. The
normally snide girl stunk thickly of fear and nervous sweat, the kind of way
that Harry imagined someone who had been having a quiet breakdown for an hour
of two might smell.
It was a guess that was easily confirmed, because the girl was taking rapid
panicked breaths and staring up at Draco with wide blood-shot eyes, her gaze
snapping back to the tent’s flap in anxiety every few seconds. Like she was
afraid someone was going to burst through the flap and stab her. Harry, still
barely awake, noted that her flaring magic was soaking the entire tent in the
reek of distilled fear. “She fucked it up Draco, and I can’t afford to wait any
longer.” The dark-haired girl growled up to him, answering the blonde’s
question while also explaining nothing, distress and anxiety thick in her voice
as she began tugging his cloak open.
“Pansy who-” Draco begged her in discomfort before cutting himself off as the
visibly rattled girl lying nude beneath him glared across the tent.
“Ask Violet who.” The black-haired girl snarled in response, flicking her head
to indicate the other side of the tent, and to where Harry and Violet had sat
up from their blankets. “She’s the one that screwed our plan up!”
His twin stretched her arms above her head lazily, grinning at the twiggy girl
in unveiled amusement. “Her and your sis bit off a lot more than they could
chew.” Violet responded, arrogance dripping from her lips like honey from a
beehive. “They decided that it would be a smart decision to wait until that
brunette… the one with the curly hair that Harry was talking to at dinner last
night, was all exhausted so that they could have a little…private fun with
her.” The redhead snickered at Pansy’s misery as she finished, having wiggled
her eyebrows at her them knowingly when she said “private”.
Pansy whimpered unhappily at Violet’s account of the events, but still used
Draco’s momentary distraction at the redhead’s explanation as an opportunity to
peel off his cloak completely. Stripping him and revealing the other boy’s
slender frame for all three sets of eyes to see.
Harry noted idly, as he ignored his twin’s much more obvious leering, that
Draco’s rather effeminate look didn’t just extend to his face but also his
build. He hadn’t really had the opportunity to notice last night in the baths,
having had other more pressing things to distract him at the time, but now he
could clearly see that the blonde’s shoulders were far from broad and his waist
and limbs were thin and slender in a way that added an almost waspish look to
his figure upon examination.
‘Waspish…’
He blinked; slightly stunned as his eyes dropped to the only part of Draco that
wasn’t almost as slender as the boy’s sisters… the blonde’s very obviously
well-rounded rear end.
“Jeez, you’re such a girly boy Draco,” His twin mocked the other lad, her
amusement now so thick one could almost taste it in the air, having obviously
noticed the blonde’s rear as well. “Really, I think your ass might even be
fuller than mine…more cushion too.” She continued haughtily, teasing the now
fantastically blushing blonde by miming a squeezing motion, while Draco
honestly looked like he would rather be anywhere else at the moment. His
arrogant sibling clearly too amused to even be annoyed by her own little
admission.
“Let the God’s damn you Violet, could you not take bloody annotations while my
betrothed bonds me!” Pansy whimpered at his twin, the sweaty girl flushing
brilliantly red as she shared her boyfriend’s humiliation via proxy, but the
redhead merely burst into more self-satisfied giggles in response.
“But it’s true!” She continued to add unhelpfully, twirling a finger through a
stray crimson frizzle as Harry resisted the urge to palm his face at their
antics. “I couldn’t ignore it even if I wanted to!” She finished, miming a
round shape with her hands.
Finally, after enduring several more jokes Draco was finally able to meet
Harry’s gaze, giving him a look of abject humiliation, and Harry sighed in
irritation and rolled his eyes. Then he grabbed Violet by the shoulder with his
left arm, and he swiftly pinning his twin down into the blankets, pressing her
into the mattress with his weight. “Vi…” He leaned down close over-top of her
to growl into her ear warningly. “When you go and see a play, you keep your
mouth shut for the performance.” Harry snapped at her irritably, annoyed by her
constant heckling.
His twin just turned her head and grinned up to him, still far too pleased at
her discovery to care about being manhandled in front of other people, and just
gestured back to the burgeoning display with her eyes in reply.
Draco yelped, as his visibly unhappy betrothed flipped herself over between his
legs, raising her skinny butt up and pressing it back into his freshly nude
pelvis, presenting herself to him. “For over a year I’ve been trying to get
this Draco, and that’s bloody-well long enough!” The black-haired little witch
demanded with a frustrated huff, ignoring Violet’s whistle. “And your older
sisters aren’t going to get in our way this time.” She growled, spitting the
term “older sisters” in anger and disgust. “You’re bonding me, right here,
right now.” Pansy asserted forcefully.
Draco for his part blushed even more fantastically at her declarations, looking
just as embarrassed as he did aroused. The blonde boy quickly becoming even
more so, when after several seconds of fumbling with each other, the smell of
his partner’s distinct mixture of panic and submission began to play its way
through their tent. At that, the other boy finally seemed to finally understand
that he was kneeling over a pretty girl who reeked of fear and desperation, and
that he had unconsciously slid his knees apart so his four-inch hard-on was
cushioned in the crease of her butt cheeks.
The blonde’s face flashed with a brief mixture of pleasure and aversion as the
skin of his penis slid up and down the little valley formed by his partner’s
cheeks, and it didn’t exactly take a genius to figure out why. Harry knew that
the Malfoy’s were a family that as far as he knew, with the exception of Dior
in certain situations, all seemed to take extreme care to remain as clean and
well groomed as possible.
Pansy was currently soaked in sweat, both old from stewing in her fear of
retribution, and new from her own sexually submissive heat. The secretion’s
very sensation left the slender blonde trembling uncomfortably for several more
seconds as he prepared to do his duty. “Where-” effeminate lad swallowed
thickly, and he braced for action despite his obvious misgivings, as it really
seemed to hit him exactly what he was about to do, “should I stick it?” He
questioned his presenting mate in a hushed, hesitant little whisper, eyeing
Harry and Violet self-consciously.
Pansy was less restrained than her partner. “Any hole below the waist!” She
whined back loudly, sparing another fearful glance to the tent’s entrance
before she started whimpering into the velvet pillow between her arms in some
imagined threat. “I don’t even care anymore, just pick one and stick it in
already!” The eleven-year old glanced back up at Draco in freshly burgeoning
panic. “I’m not getting my brain fried by a bloody Helen because your stupid
sister picked a fight we couldn’t win!”
Luckily for the both of them, Harry’s twin was there to interrupt before any
sort of falling-out could occur.
“Fucking amateurs!” Violet finally spat, and Harry felt her core flash in
annoyance and disgust, unable to keep waiting for the show or put up with their
friend’s awkward fumbling for any longer. She snapped her arms from bent to
straight fast enough that Harry was thrown off her, as she slammed her back up
into his chest with the entire weight of her compact form, and then she was
across the tiny space of the tent in an instant.
By the time Harry had recovered his wits enough to even pull himself back up
onto his arms a seconds later, Violet was already across the little space with
a fist of Pansy’s sweat-matted hair, and with her core raging like an irritated
inferno. “First of all, you’re thighs need to be spread, you dumbass.” The
frizzy redhead growled out in an annoyed huff, slapping Pansy once lightly
across the face to assert her control over the situation, then again much
harder on the butt to remind the girl of her submissive role as a stunned Pansy
opened her mouth and made to backtalk her.
Ignoring the black-haired girl’s pained yelp, she grabbed a wide-eyed Draco
deftly by his pointed chin and forced his shocked blue eyes to stare into her
visibly irritated green ones. “Now lower your girly ass or I’ll lower it for
you.” His twin demanded in a light voice, command present despite the mildly
amused sneer on her face, still taking the time to get a jab in despite her
obvious frustration at the lack of entertainment going on.
She didn’t slap him when he opened his mouth to object, but she cut him off
before Draco could even get a word in. “Or, are you going to tell me you woke
me up early to watch you both fumble around like a couple of idiots?” She
demanded of the prissy blonde, raising an irate eyebrow at him threateningly.
Draco’s hips dropped in sync with Pansy’s thighs finally sliding open. It was
perfectly timed, but the way the two were both positioned was still angled off
for anything but anal. Harry blinked at the thought, as he rapidly understood
that his twin had absolutely no intention of correcting that. “Pansy relax… are
you dense? I said relax!” The muscular redhead snarled down at the trembling
girl below her, as Pansy’s thin frame tensed at the request instead of
relaxing, and visible sparks shot into the air as his twin’s core crushed down
onto the poor dark-haired girls like a ton of bricks in response.
Pansy gave a wide-eyed, scream into the pillow as his twin’s raging flame
engulfed the little shards of crystal glass that made up the gangly girl’s
core, burning at them with a seething firestorm that left her pale, skinny,
body scrabbling hard beneath the scorching magical pressure. The black-haired
girl immediately pressed her entire face hard into the pillow she was
clutching, desperate to try and muffle her own cries and spare whatever was
left of the ego Violet was currently beating the stuffing out of, but the at
least the sweaty girl seemed to know better than to even try and resist.
Harry rolled his eyes at the three-way display, but interjected none the less.
“Violet, you’re about to become a fire hazard!” He chastised his twin sternly,
both because the embers of her magic fire had started dropping from her body
and onto the blankets, and because Harry really could sympathize with the
weaker girl under her mercy.
He had wrestled magically with Violet often enough to know how painful his
sisters magic could be, even when the scraggly little redhead wasn’t angry.
Understanding instinctively that it must have felt even more intense to Pansy,
who had a significantly less powerful core than either he or Violet did, and so
he tried to warn her off before she could do the weaker girl any permanent
damage… magically or otherwise, while he resisted the growing pull as his own
power reacted to the display before him and tried to draw him in.
But if Violet wasn’t pissed off now, either at Pansy’s disobedience or his
interruption, she was doing a damn good job of pretending. “I told you to
RELAX!” She barked out her order with a snarl but then did finally let up on
the pressure, with one final blast that left Pansy lightly sobbing into her
pillow but completely limp beneath Draco. Who for his part was simply sitting
wide-eyed, but still ready on the freshly defeated girl’s skinny thighs, with
his penis still erect and his skin visibly flushed with arousal. Still
obedient, but also in open-mouthed shock at Violet’s little display of
dominance.
The blonde swallowed hard for at least the third time in as many minutes,
visibly intimidated as Violet turned her emerald gaze back on him. “Now,” She
growled at him, an amused look on her lips. First taking his hands and placing
them on Pansy’s trembling hips, and then quickly grasping his slender member in
her own hand and lining it up with the wrinkled star hidden between the lanky
girls little butt cheeks, “you’re going to stab your hips as hard forward as
you can, all of this in one thrust.” Violet commanded him, her voice suddenly
turning sensual as she slid her slender fingers down his swollen length for
indication. Leaning in until they were almost nose to nose and smiling, in a
manner Harry intimately knew to mean nothing but cruelty, at the effeminate
blonde. “Then you’re going to keep driving it back into her, again and again,
until I tell you that you can stop… got it?”
Draco said nothing, but nodded sharply in submission, and Violet backed off
slightly to lounge against a large pile of pillows she had stolen from the
other girls outside earlier, waving for him to ready himself. The redhead
spared an unimpressed glance down to Pansy’s limp form, giving a haughty snort
at the sight of the still whimpering girl, before slipping a hand between her
own thighs to massage their apex. Rubbing lazily at the reddened lips of her
sex, Harry immediately noticed the distinct smell of his sister’s arousal
wafting up from the tight little hole that nestled there as Pansy gave a
particularly pitiful whimper. “Now fuck er till she can’t walk.” She commanded,
after taking a moment to just enjoy what she already knew was about to happen.
It was at this moment Harry realized, only far too late, exactly how broken-
down the barriers of Pansy’s mind and body had been by his sister’s magical
thrashing. He had been expecting Draco’s penis to glance off a tight ring of
clenched muscle. That he would have a movement to ward Violet off, physically
if need be, and point out to his more effeminate friend that he ought to
readjust his aim a bit for Pansy’s first sexual experience.
He really should have known better than to expect that sort of opportunity from
his twin… because when the blonde’s slender hips slammed hard forward, when the
other boy’s slender length hilted itself all the way into Pansy’s forcibly
relaxed bowls in a single violent thrust, Harry was left as open-mouthed in
shock as Draco had been only moments before.
Pansy was open-mouthed too… but that was because she was screaming into her
little black pillow like her life depended on it at the dry penetration of her
little rosebud, with her arms scrabbling desperately at the blankets for some
sort of purchase that she could use to pull herself away, despite the fact that
her lower body was already locking itself into position for the painful
battering that her instincts already knew would be coming next.
Harry could feel the light connections between their two cores begin hardening
at the moment of penetration, spinning thin filaments of loose magic together
into something more concrete. He could see it the change that came over their
bodies too. Pansy suddenly stopped sobbing and flailing her arms across the
blankets, and instead buried her sniveling face into the pillow as she glared
at Violet and bit down miserably, bracing her upper body with her arms in
defeat. Draco’s reaction was even easier for him to understand, though it also
would have been easier to miss if he hadn’t been looking for it.
The blonde’s breath had caught in his throat the moment he forced himself all
the way into Pansy for the first time. The slender boy gasping in unfamiliar
pleasure as his partner’s entire body tensed at the sudden penetration,
whimpering even louder than even Pansy as she bit her pillow to muffle her
cries of pain and shock. Then his flushed face seemed to be covered by a sort
of furtive, shy, lust as his oily core expanded out and filled his mind with
its instinctive demands.
‘Timid.’ Harry decided with a small smile, was a world that described the newly
joined pair quite well. Their shared body language was both nervous and
uncomfortable with the other pair of presences in the tent, and Pansy in
particular was shooting him fearful glances through teary brown eyes. They both
were visibly flushed as much with embarrassment as lust. It seemed to suddenly
hit them both at the same moment that they were currently freshly bonded in
front of a pair they had known only a few days, a pair that they knew were more
powerful than either of them.
Harry smiled as his body relaxed, and he pulled himself back up onto his hands
and knees, feeling the sight before him stirring his core unquestionably and it
washed over his mind with a familiar heady sort of feeling.
“What are you waitin-” He cut Violet off, swiping her shoulder with a hand that
yanked her back onto her piled pillows with a shocked yelp.
Draco and Pansy tensed at that, stock still like a pair of deer in shock, both
frozen as his power washed across the inside of the tent without his control,
subtly waiting to see what his next action would be.
                                       S
After allowing them a few more minutes to gawk at the landscape outside the
window, Tonks had finally pulled Hermione and her sister away from the
wonderful glass portal to another world, and then back out of her little hidden
room. The bubbly teen citing that it was her duty to see to it that they both
got a good bath in before the school day actually started.
The moment they reached the bottom of the little winding staircase though,
Hermione was immediately stunned. “Tonks… why is it still so dark in here?” She
asked, noticing that the hallway was still as dim as it had been when they had
entered the Esquires hidden sanctuary.
The teen grinned down at her as she placed a guiding hand on the back of
Melody’s fluffy head and directed them both to follow her. “It’s really
complicated, and I don’t understand like half of it, but I can tell you that it
involves the land you might know as Terra Australis and the discipline of time
dilation.”
“Land of the south wind?” Suddenly stopped Hermione short, and the teen had to
prod her with her core to get her walking in pace with them. “Time… dilation?”
The brunette exhaled breathily, blinking rapidly and feeling like she had been
slapped by the sheer absurdity of the shape-shifters answer.
Tonks grinned like a cat with a caged canary. “Before I went to sleep I slowed
the speed of the room’s passage through local time, so we got a full night’s
sleep in only a couple of Hogwarts hours.” She explained, still smiling down at
Hermione and her sibling cheerfully. “It’s actually only around six in the
morning, so you’ll still have a couple of hours before classes start to get
ready.”
This time it was Melody who felt the need to pipe in. “And people are just
allowed to do that here?” The eight-year old demanded her answer, waving her
arms with wide-eyed confusion, disbelief spread clearly across her adorable
features.
“Heh, well not exactly…” Tonks admitted with a blush. “It’s actually really
dangerous, and can sort of drive people insane, so you have to qualify to even
get into the classes that involve that sort of stuff…” She trailed off as they
exited the hallway.
Reaching the end of the hall as Tonks half-finished her answer, they quickly
passed the side wall of the darkened common room that was still full of mostly
sleeping eleven-year olds. Hermione spotted Pansy, who was one of the few girls
that seemed to have woken early, and she shot the thin girl a disapproving
glare as they made their way swiftly to the second hallway that led to the
baths.
She pressed on after they had gone a short distance. “And I’m sure you’re
qualified to… wait, you mentioned something about going insane?” Hermione
choked out as she finally took the time to digest the teen’s entire statement.
If anything, Tonks’s grin grew even wider at that. “Yep, I told you that
messing with magic can do all sorts of stuff to your mind and body…” She tapped
at her temple meaningfully, her hair color flashing back to that too bright
blue from the “trees” earlier. “It’s why the Purebloods get so uptight about
that stuff.” She explained, waving her hand frivolously at the word Purebloods.
They passed the still open doorway to the bathrooms, and Hermione decided to
redirect the conversation to what she hoped would be more easily palatable
matters. “Who are the Purebloods?” She questioned the older girl, looking up
into the beautiful teen’s still-smiling face. “I think I heard someone using
that term yesterday.’
Tonks nodded, in a manner that was far to chipper for Hermione’s still slightly
sleepy mood. “The simplest way to describe them would be as a large political
movement that is opposed to the sorts of magical experimentation and twisting’s
of baser behaviors that could lead us to becoming too deeply corrupted by
magic. The sort of stuff that if mishandled on too wide of a scale, could
easily end up with Avalon imploding back into warring Fey courts and isolated
conclaves, or worse… becoming another Dark civilization like the one on that
used to exist on plateau of Leng.”
The teenager shrugged, her brilliant yellow cloak flapping behind her, as she
continued.  “They’re mostly a reactionary movement, hoping to buy brownie
points with the non-magical peoples in the lands we govern by limiting the
chaos that comes out of places like Hogwarts.” Tonks explained helpfully,
thumbing towards the wall, where a pack of a dozen colorful little Tully’s
scrambled their way up towards the ceiling chasing a hand-sized vaguely
Opilione-like creature that looked to be somehow made out of a dimly glowing
gel. 
Melody’s eyes widened the instant Tonks had named Leng. “I member that! Daddy
used to tell me about a warrior from Cimmeria, and how he destroyed the evil
men in the mountains.” The eight-year old interjected happily, hopping on the
balls of her feet in excitement at a conversation about something she could
actually understand.
Tonks nodded down to the comparatively tiny girl. “That actually happened… or
at least something similar to it was supposed to have happened.” She shrugged
again as they entered the darkened bathing area, with its massive pool of
foamy, fragrant, water glimmering beneath the dimmed lights. “I know that Binns
says that old historical records do recount that war. That towards the end of
the Second Age of Men the mortal king of Hyperboria… I think his name was Conan
or something like that… Point is that he led all the armies of the free world
into the plateau to make war with the deeply corrupted traitor wizards of Leng
after people learned about what had been taking place there in the mountains.”
The teenager finished a little ominously.
“Other than that though, I don’t know much about it… fell asleep about halfway
through that lesson actually.” The curvy shape-shifter admitted sheepishly as
they stopped at the room’s far wall.
Tonks couldn’t help but chuckle as Hermione’s face flashed with indignation.
“You fell asleep in class!” The eleven-year old cried loudly, stomping a foot
and running her hands though her bed-tangled mane, looking scandalized by the
mere notion.
The younger girl’s reaction filled the teenager with nothing but expectant
glee. “Hah! You give me that now, but wait until after you’re finished with
your first defense lesson, and then come talk to me about falling asleep in
class.” She shot back, grinning knowingly as she wiped a hand across a section
of the far wall, which melted away like wax to reveal another queerly shaped
doorway.
The curvy shape-shifter gestured to the newly formed entrance. “This is where
the showers are, they’re for when you’re too dirty or don’t have time for a
soak in the baths.” Tonks announced grandly. Guiding them both around a few
strange bends in the passageway, which finally opened up and revealed a long
tiled room with lots of thin little doorways cut into the walls, gleaming metal
hooks for clothes embedded in the walls next to each one.
They followed the Esquire to a little wooden door at the back of the hallway.
Tonk’s pulled it open and it slid ajar on well-oiled hinges. Inside was an
absolutely tiny space, maybe five by four feet large, covered in interlocking
black insets and lit by a single glass cube that glowed quite dimly on the
ceiling.
“Alright you two, everything off.” Their Esquire ordered, snapping her fingers
in command before slipping her yellow robe off and hanging it on a nearby hook.
Tonks turned back to the girls, raising an eyebrow as she realized that they
were both staring unashamedly at the contours of her nude body, drinking in her
sharply form with wide brown eyes and red faces. “Come on you overeager little
poppets, we can play in the shower.” She ribbed them lightly as an amused grin
broke across her face, she was certainly not failing to notice how both sets of
brown eyes had been drawn to her freshly restored member the moment she turned
to face them.
Melody practically tossed her little red tabard off, with Hermione removing her
cloak at a more sedate pace while Tonk’s turned the knob for the water. Smiling
as both of them immediately startled adorably as the black tiles burst into
wild pastel colors on contact with the steamy water, which was now pouring
freely from a grid of little holes in the stalls tiled ceiling. “How do they do
that?” Melody squealed in happy surprise, the naked eight-year old immediately
darting into the water to get a closer look at the shifting colors.
Tonks reached inside and reeled the excited girl back before she could get too
wet. “Hold on one minute squirt, you should put your Tully on the hook, you
wouldn’t want your humble little translator to melt in the water would you?”
She ribbed the cute little thing in her arms.
“But we had them in the bath yesterday?” Melody’s wide brown eyes blinked in
question the moment she finished. “And we can barely understand you without
them, how’ll we know what you’re saying?” The eight-year old asked in
confusion, her brows furrowing as the obvious realization hit her.
“The showers are different…” Tonks explained, with a wave of her hand. “The
walls in these aren’t enchanted to protect stuff from the water, or to clean to
themselves like the tiles of the baths are.” She pointed to the drain at the
bottom of the stall. “The enchantments on the castles baths will take any
impurities to the sewage tunnels below the castle proper, but the showers just
have a drain instead, mostly because it’s easier and cheaper to just get a
servant or two to clean them instead.” She finished, gesturing a little
helplessly.
Hermione gave the older girl an uncertain look as well, but sighed and brushed
her hair aside in submission. “Well if we can’t have them in the shower, then
how can we sleep with them on our ears?” She questioned the teen more than a
little disbelievingly, but being able to guess at about how much work it must
take to clean out a pool of that size by the fact that the bathhouses would be
closed for days at a time back in Constantinople.
“They have legs remember? And they can walk on their own…” Tonks shot back at
her question with a wiggle of her eyebrows. “Who’s to say that they stayed on
you head while you slept?” The teen finished with a frustratingly mysterious
smirk, plucking the strangely colored little creature from behind Hermione’s
ear, and allowing it to scurry gingerly onto her hooked up cloak before doing
the same for her own Tully and Melody’s.
Then she grinned at them hugely, and said something Hermione couldn’t
understand in the least, before placing a hand on both of their backs and
guiding them forward towards the pouring water.
Hermione allowed the teenager to lead her into the little stall at a sedate
pace, inhaling sharply at the touch of the hot water, before allowing herself
to relax under the warm flowing liquid.
The three of them in the little stall was a cramped fit, with Tonks alone
taking up almost an entire half of the space by herself, and forcing Hermione
to hug Melody close or lean against the colorfully water-warmed tiles behind
her.
This close to her… little sister, the very thought suddenly forcing her swallow
thickly as she denied to herself what she had been about to designate the
adorable little girl. She felt a return of that same sort of possessiveness she
had felt dimly earlier the day before. It was kind of feeling that made her
want to do things to Melody she was distinctly uncomfortable with doing to her
sweet eight-year old sibling. Now she knew the word for those urges though,
Tonks had seen to tell them that much. So Hermione understood that the
Compulsion was back, and that it had come back hard.
Without even thinking she pulled her sisters smaller frame tight against her
own, struck  by a sense of irrational jealousy at the way that the younger
girls eyes were giving Tonks’s well-rounded body all of her attention in the
tight, steamy, space.
She had begun breathing heavily without even realizing it, nuzzling the shorter
girl’s wet brown hair with her nose as she squeezed Melody tightly. “Mione?”
The little Helen chirped to her sibling in embarrassment, responding to her
jealous embrace by flushing a brilliant red and staring at the down at the nape
of Hermione’s neck.
Hermione spared Tonks a glance out of the corner of her eye that lasted less
than a second, and in that briefest instant the smirking teen nodded to her in
support.
That was all Hermione needed at that moment, as the sparks surged through her
head and burst out from her chest, she gently pushed the smaller brunette back
against the stalls opposite wall by her thin shoulders and she let her magic
free into the steamy air.
It didn’t flash visibly this time, unlike that brief instant night before, the
little stall stayed dimly lit only by the glowing chunk of glass on the
ceiling. The effect on the eight-year old in her arms was immediate and easily
visible, even if the magic itself was not.
Melody jumped in her grip, tensing instantly, and then broke into a sort of
mewling sob as her skinny frame trembled beneath her older sister’s power. The
smaller girl’s face snapped up to look at her with wide-eyes brown, wet hair
falling over her wide eyes as she voicelessly begged her for mercy, her
flawless skin flushing a brilliant red for reasons other than the hot water.
There was no compassion for her in Hermione’s heart in that moment though; no
time to even contemplate the idea of regret as thoroughly under the command of
her own freed Compulsion as the older girl was. Her magic demanded that she
break in her servant…and Hermione could do nothing but obey its command.
The next gust of power that burst down her arms and into her sister’s body left
Melody groaning openly from where she was pressed back against the wall,
gripping at her stronger arms desperately, her little nails digging into her
flesh in pleasure or pain. Hermione couldn’t even feel the difference in that
moment, but her grip swiftly changed from pinning the smaller girl against the
wall by the shoulders to wrapping around her in a tight hug in response.
She pulled her trembling little sister closer with an arm hooked around her
back, sliding a free hand up slowly over her washboard chest and around her
slender neck, thumbing that little black triangle possessively as she pushed
Melody’s upper body back and pulled their waists tight together.
“Mine, mine, mine...” Melody trembled as her entranced sister whispered that
mantra to her, even over the shocks of pleasure and numbness that were
torturing her totally unprepared nervous system, her older sibling’s possessive
chant still echoed round in her fried mind as clearly as the ringing of a
cathedrals bell.
Before she had realized what was happening she caught herself silently mouthing
the opposite of Hermione’s mantra back to her. ‘Yours, yours, yours…’ She cut
it off, fighting just to try and start an old hymnal going inside her head
instead, but the next surge of magic coming off of her sister’s touch raged
against her like a hurricane’s wind and blew the song from her head while
flashing her tender nerves alight.
It really hurt to be under this much power, the eight-year old dimly realized
as her muscles twitched uncontrollably against her sisters skin, it was simply
too intense for her even though the massive pleasure it provided. So even
though her older sibling was being physically gentle with her, if very
insistent in that there was absolutely no give in her grip, there was still no
mercy to the electrum sensation that rippled into her everywhere that
Hermione’s flesh touched hers. With her older sister’s wet body wrapped around
her, gripping her smaller and slighter form like an octopus, it was all she
could do to just avoid wetting herself and having to face that humiliation.
As she trembled in aftershocks from the last pulse of power, Hermione’s right
hand wandered on a pathway slowly up and down the length of her back. Slender
fingers touched lightly to the knobs of her spine, the other still massaging
her throat. Both sent sparks into her head, making fireworks burst behind her
tightly closed eyes with each pitiless surge of power.
Then Hermione hugged her so her taller body was pressed completely flush, with
their flat chest rubbing together and their legs intertwined, and then she
lifted her up from her feet and pushed her roughly down so that her slick thigh
was pressed firmly between Melody’s slender legs.
She writhed in her sister’s grip as the wet skin of her center was forcibly
ground down onto Hermione’s leg, and unfamiliar heat washed from there to pool
somewhere deep inside her pelvis despite her misgivings.
The worst part of the whole ordeal was that she couldn’t even begin to push
herself away from whatever madness that had taken over her older sister. There
was an impression inside her flesh that was like there were bronze cables
leading from that accursed mark on her neck out across her body, and every time
she would even begin to move with anything resembling escape or disobedience,
they would tense in her mind and lock her limbs in place. Or worse, force her
entire body to twist itself into an even more open and vulnerable position.
Finally she could take no more, the agony of pleasure was simply too intense,
the pulses of heat coming from her sudden molestation too much for her mind to
bear. She lifted her nose from the crook of her sisters neck, open mouthed to
beg her for mercy. Her thin chest hitching hard, as her tears were washed away
by the warm water raining from the ceiling.
But she froze, unable to speak because the face she found herself looking into
was almost foreign in its visage. Hermione’s pupils had dilated until they
covered her entire eyes, peering into her soul with a gaze as wide and dark as
the night sky, and like the heavenly vault they glimmered dimly with some
strange internal lights as her sister panted heavily into her opened mouth.
Then the intelligence that hid behind those massive pupils seemed to reach a
decision, and she could see the little lights getting brighter as Hermione
swiftly joined their open mouths, kissing her firmly on the lips. Finally…
mercifully, the magical attack stopped, but when it was gone it seemed to have
left the wires in her flesh more real, and they forced her to keep her mouth
open wide despite her sudden urge to close it. Demanding Melody allow her
taller sibling to dominate her tongue as long as Hermione’s heart desired.
That was easy though, because now that the pulling and the shocks were gone,
Hermione’s mouth tasted so sweet and her strange eyes were so inviting that she
was helpless to do anything else but kiss back clumsily anyway. Then she was
suddenly struck by the unfamiliar thought that she had been born to be here, to
have her hips ground down in the shower while her older sister cleaned her
tonsils for her. Like there was another voice in her head telling her that this
was her place and that it was going to be her master, and that she was to serve
it and that in exchange it would snuggle her and keep her warm and safe and….
Only a moment later she realized dimly that she must have somehow been hearing
her sister’s thoughts... she simply knew that the frantic, almost raving
whisperings that were echoing across her mind so demandingly could belong to no
one else other than her Hermione.
‘My master…’
A chuckle came off to her side it and snapped her from her private realization.
It jerked Hermione half-way from out of her strange trance as well as, as she
watched her sibling’s eyes suddenly snapped halfway closer to normal, and
Hermione released her with a start. Both brunettes having forgotten that
perverted shape-shifter was even still with them as locked in their own little
world as they had been!
She nearly fell onto her butt as the arms holding her up released her, her
knees were knocking so hard that she could barely stand and the place between
her legs was still pulsing with an angry heat, but the warm polished tiles of
the wall were right behind her and she fell back on them heavily. Leaning
against the colorful insets and gasping out a quick prayer to whoever was
willing to listen. “Ἅγιος ὁ Θεός, Ἅγιος ἰσχυρός, Ἅγιος ἀθάνατος, ἐλέησον ἡμᾶς.”
She understood more now, as she trembled and tried not to fall while praying
quietly, she realized that she was going to need all the help she could get.
Then Melody gulped hard on her saliva, hit by another pulse of that same alien
warmth she had felt in the baths and on the couch, as her eyes drawn to the
massive organ that sat at the junction of the shapely hips of the young woman
sharing the tiny space with them. It had swollen to hardness again at their
unashamed display, and thanks to her own shortness and the teenager’s excessive
height and long legs it was staring her almost in the face, close enough that
she imagined she could smell something like the salt of the ocean even through
the falling water.
Tonks, for her part had watched the familiar dance of dominance and submission
in silence so far, trying to not even move in any manner that would be obvious
to the pair. Waiting patiently with bated breath until their bond had
successfully been reinforced, and just observing the girls in silence before
deciding on her final judgment.
And again, she had to resist the urge to grin as everything had gone how she
had hoped it would.
Hermione had confirmed her suspicions, the girl had fallen so deep into her own
frothing magic that she had actually undergone the very beginning stages of a
Fey metamorphosis. Which all by itself meant that she would have to deal with
the brunette much more carefully from now on…
Adorable little Melody on the other hand, having been forced to absorb until
she was glutted on her sisters magic, was beginning to show the early signs of
a developing proto-core. It was a tiny little thing, shimmering glossily like a
messy ball of glass twine that sat glimmering in the center of her washboard
chest, but it was undeniably there.
The eight-year old had reacted to the deepening of the bond better than
expected as well, considering the strength of the power Hermione had been
giving off would have normally been enough to collapse another first-year for
at least a few minutes. But the tiny brunette was still standing determinedly,
even if she was leaning heavily against the wall and taking deep shuddering
breaths of the steamy air.
She chuckled and grinned as they both turned to observe her in kind, kneeling
down beside the pair and watching intently as the waves of power Hermione had
pumped into her younger sibling started congealing around the little tangle of
iridescent light below her sternum. Some magic falling to form a stormy little
atmosphere around the chaotic knot, while the rest froze into a thin ring of
tiny crystal flecks in orbit.
The side of her lips quirked up as she gazed at the incandescent little speck
in the shape of Saturn, as viewed through a spyglass. It was a pity that
wouldn’t stay like that for too long, it would only a few days before the
little girls own burgeoning core refined and absorbed it, but it was certainly
pretty to look at while it was around.
Speaking of magical cores, she could now see that Hermione’s had developed a
crisper aspect. It was still raging like an angry thunderstorm though, with
flashes of lightning illuminating roaring wind and lashing rain, and it felt
oddly intense at the moment…
The older of the two brunettes blinked slowly as the shapely teen slowly
squatted down close to observe her slave, nearly having to fold her legs around
them to even crouch in the tight space. Hermione’s normal state of being was
still subsumed by her magic, but she could think well enough to remember that
the young woman beside her now was not just very attractive, but had both been
kind to her in the past and had proven herself more than powerful enough for
her core to urge her to submit willingly or to force or trick the teen into a
bond.
There was a tiny voice in the back of her head that echoed out faintly,
demanding that it be released. Commanding the power whose control it had
intentionally allowed to swell even greater than it had the night before to
subside, as Hermione’s magic felt its way around the little showers space with
intentionally fine tendrils of power.
There was a massive core extremely close nearby, and an extremely compatible
core at that, one that would allow them to grow in power immensely in a short
amount of time. With waves rolling slowly over deep water, concealing nameless
things in the weeds and among the sunken stones, it waxed and waned calmly and
deliberately at the behest of its master.
‘But that can be changed easily enough.’ Hermione thought to herself hazily,
her magic still clouding her finer reason powerfully. ‘After all,’ the thoughts
rumbled logically from the thunderhead in her mind, ‘even a tiny storm can
easily rage the calmest of seas, whipping them both up further in a self-
feeding cycle.’
Hermione’s magic weighted the costs and benefits of several prospective actions
for her, ignoring the repeated demands of her normal cognizance to relinquish
the control it currently had over their mind and body, before finally making a
few quick judgments in their head and coming to a decision.
It had been a mistake to allow herself to become as caught up in gloating over
her success as she had done, as Tonks had been busy internally patting herself
on the back at her little victory, invested so totally in the sensations of the
immaterial that she had forgotten the still present danger of the physical
world.
She had forgotten that Hermione was still quite deep beneath the control of her
raging core and still half in the beginning throes of a metamorphosis…
There was barely any time to react as the eleven-year old lunged at her,
closing across the tiny the space between them in well less than a second, and
before she even knew what was going on the brunette had latched onto her waist
with a full body death grip. The girls very touch instantly infecting every
inch of skin that it contacted with a spreading numbness that made her body
sluggish and resistant to her own commands as she fell back against the wall
from the impact.
“Herm-” There wasn’t even enough time to finish her charges name, to cry out
and try and wake the brunette from her Compulsion, at least not before the
eleven-year olds teeth sank deep into her shoulder.
Pain exploded as the teen resisted the dominating little flood of magic that
was being funneled into her torso, the bite allowing the much younger girl an
almost unhindered access to her own watery core. ‘Hermione! You need to stop!”
She groaned out, internally approaching panic despite the sudden
unresponsiveness of her flesh, but the brunette simply snarled at her
resistance and ground her teeth down harder into the half-yielding flesh it had
found at the base of her neck.
The younger girl’s magic lashed her way into her core with bolts of lightning,
bursting over her seas with a wild wind that quickly thrashed Tonks’s magic out
of control as the bookish little Helen attempted to form a temporary bond
instinctively.
Tonks hissed in pain, as the girl grappling her sunk her teeth down hard enough
that she was absolutely sure her shoulder was bleeding, and she found herself
digging her nails into the other girls back and pulling her smaller form closer
despite the fact that her body was no longer responsive to the commands of her
mind.
It was temptation, pure and simple, magic presenting her again with what the
mind had the night before, as their flesh rippled in unison with the temptation
of metamorphosis.
However, it was when the younger girl hunched her drooling little honeypot over
Tonks’s engorged shaft, and forcibly nestled its helmet between her own tightly
resisting lips, that the teen understood that this had just become the absolute
worst case scenario for both of them.
In the space of less than a second, everything Tonks knew about magic came back
to her. The single piece of knowledge that hit her the hardest was a lesson
from her own first-year, which had been about how cores almost always bonded in
the states they were most compatible in, and it would be in that most harmonic
state that they would feed into each other.
Hermione’s core was like a storm and hers was an ocean, there was only one
state that they even could synchronize in properly, and together they would
form a hurricane that would drag them both deeper into the metamorphosis.
Drag them both kicking and screaming into becoming Fey, unavoidably into the
manner of the Unseelie, and then to the familiar forms that lay beyond even
that chaotic and wild state…
Twelve whole years of corruption came back in that instant, the first twelve
years of the teenager’s life, followed by the last six years of her schooling
and her own fear at being dragged uncontrollably down that dark road again.
They slammed together in her mind, synergizing with the Compulsion sealed onto
her core by her Esquire’s oath, in the moment that her charge tensed her
swollen little hips for that final, catastrophic, drop and it was only that
tensing saved them.
As her body’s flesh shimmered out of her control, Tonks’s magic reacted
accidentally for the first time in years at the command of her Esquire
Compulsion. Hitting them both with a full blast, using the path of least
resistance to get around the howling of their combining magic, and bring the
situation back under control. An icy slap of stormy water materialized out of
the aether, and promptly exploded between their pressed together flesh,
knocking the smaller girl off of her and across the shower into the door and
her smaller sibling who sat slumped already sleepily unconscious beside it.
Both of them were still physically still stuck in the midst of a
transformation. Tonks grinned ironically to herself as the fog on her senses
cleared, as it seemed like they had been mentally and magically snapped out of
it completely, she had resisted the darkness yet again.
But she needed a minute… actually the trembling shape-shifter felt like she
needed a few hours to calm herself and gather her thoughts, but she understood
that she didn’t have that. Hermione was spitting blood and alternating between
giving horrified glances at her own fingers, which had been transformed into a
set of clear claws that were viciously hooked, and back to Tonks who already
knew exactly how bad she would look to the girl in her present form.
There was a metallic taste in her mouth… Hermione realized as she flew back to
bounce off of something solid, ice exploding across her body and knocking the
breath from her lungs at the shock of the temperature difference.
Everything was hazy despite the cold. She had been standing with Melody in her
arms and now somehow she was on the tiled floor, suddenly shivering so hard she
couldn’t open her eyes, as the warm water drained the cold from the parts of
her flesh it touched.
She decided that something must have gone terribly wrong, that was the only
explanation that made sense to her as she recognized the coppery taste on her
tongue as blood.
But opening her eyes accomplished nothing more than to fill her heart with more
fear. The figure across the shower her was Tonks; she could tell that much with
magic alone, but the form before her was nearly alien and terrifying.
A dark-haired teen with goat legs sat breathing heavily against the back of the
shower, with four furry arms laying limply at her side, and ibex-like horns
sprouting from the top of her head.
‘Horns!’ She realized in horror, slapping her hands up to her head and yelping
in fear as she felt a set of hooks digging into the skin around a quartet of
small bumps spaced evenly across her forehead.
Bumps that reacted to a change in the light inside her head when her hands had
covered them…
She was turning onto a monster! It was the only conclusion she could come to as
she gaped at the crystalline hooks that sprouted from her fingers, then back up
to Tonks who was standing back up on unsteady legs, still not sure who she was
even directing the thought even as she spat out blood into the running water.
Her entire chest was still sort of numb, including all four of her arms, which
made standing rather hard. Somehow she managed though, trying to will the half-
finished metamorphosis to undue itself faster as she watched Hermione enter the
beginnings of another breakdown.
The shaggy hair on her arms and legs disappeared first, though the horns were
inclined to stay even after her arms fused back. Then finally a second later,
her magic righted itself and she undid the rest of the effects in a second,
returning to the form she had occupied previously.
“Hermione listen to me!” She said, and then suddenly felt stupid as her brain
caught up to current events and she realized that she had spoken to the little
Helen in plain English.
Not that Hermione seemed to have heard her, babbling to herself in a mixture of
sobbing and Greek while still spitting blood into the showers drain, as the
eleven-year old slammed full sprint into another panic attack.
She berated herself internally as she slapped the knob and turned the water
off, cursing the fact that she had allowed herself to become so distracted that
she had missed what had to have been obvious signs growing in her young charge.
Everything had been going so well up until this point too, and now she would
have to put the broken pieces together again.
She didn’t hesitate when the older brunette curled into a ball, and started
rocking next to her limp and lightly snoring sister, knowing that allowing her
to dive into her own conclusions would cause her more harm than good.
“Hermione!” Tonks shouted at her, trying to channel as much of ‘Stern Penelope’
into her voice as she could.
The young girl across the shower leapt into the air, a look of absolute fear
exploding across her features, and then the soaked little Greek turned to try
and bolt.
But Tonks was faster now that the girl’s magic had been purged from her system,
and she had a much longer reach too. So when Hermione moved, she moved faster.
Snatching the brunette around the waist and pulling her back so she could pin
the girls slender wrists against the tiles above her head, holding her tightly
against the wall with a knee pressed between her legs to pin her completely in
place while the eleven-year old hyperventilated into her breasts.
“Her-Hermione calm down.” She pleaded quickly to the crying girl, only to have
the young brunette reply in a babble of panicked, sobbing; Greek that went by
too fast for her to understand.
Tonks was good at many things, but planning ahead wasn’t one of them. So she
hadn’t thought through what she would do if things turned as far south as they
had. Luckily, she was good at acting on her feet.
So it was without any warning at all that she swept the bawling brunette up
into her arms and kissed her as hard as she could, looking deep into Hermione’s
tear-filled eyes while she utterly dominated the girls smaller mouth with years
of practice.
No hesitation, no regret, she kept her eyes full of nothing but stern
determination as she topped the squirming girl easily, wrapping her up even
more tightly in her arms as the girl tried to slide free from her grasp. Giving
the trembling Helen a commanding look that declared nothing but, ‘You will obey
me!’ while she ignored the taste of her own blood on the younger girl’s lips.
After nearly a full minute she pulled back, letting their mouths pop apart as
they both gasped for breath. “N-Not your fault.” She whispered intently to the
girl in her arms in her poorly practiced Greek, trying to calm her breathing
enough to say each word slowly and carefully enough that it wouldn’t confuse
the young Hermione further.
She needed that bossy but inquisitive girl that had bantered with her before
the shower back, not the whimpering shell wrapped in her arms at the moment.
“Not your fault, but mine. I wasn’t paying attention when I should have, and I
should never have let that happen to you like that.” She whispered to the girl
soothingly, noting how her charges’ breathing was finally beginning to
returning normal as they started to air-dry in the damp stall.
“I-” She cut the girl off before she could continue, using a small burst of
magic to awaken the younger girls exhausted sibling and compel her to take up
the other side of the hug as she sat down with Hermione on her lap. “No!” She
snapped intently as Melody sleepily wrapped Hermione in a hug from behind,
pinning the trembling girl between the two of them. “It. Was. Not. Your.
fault!” Tonks repeated each word sternly, before Hermione finally dropped her
eyes in unhappy submission.
Over Hermione’s shoulder she smiled down at Melody, who was again wide-eyed in
uncomprehending shock, nodding reassuringly to the little brunette as she
slowly stood up with Hermione in her arms, cupping the first-year’s butt so she
could get the door open with her free arm.
The first thing she did when she stepped out of the shower was to set the
brunette down in the corner just past where their cloaks were hanging, not
necessarily trusting the girl not to do something rash yet, and then she
beckoned the Tully’s down from where they were nested in a crevice on the wall.
Melody made an unhappy mewling sound as the colorful magical constructs made
their rapid way into her palm, and she swiftly dropped the appropriate tube of
fuzz onto the youngest girl’s moist shoulder.
Then she swiftly picked the shocked Hermione up again, allowing the Tully’s to
take their places perched on their shoulders, as she carried her back to the
bathing room with Melody hopping up and down anxiously beside them. Noting in
relief that someone had left a stool sitting before the big mirror on the
waterfall-side wall, instead of under the cubbies lining the side of that wall
where they were supposed to be put back when not in use.
Tonks sighed to herself explosively after she set Hermione down on the wooden
seat, taking a moment to wonder exactly how she was going to explain her way
out of this, noting that Hermione had started staring blankly off onto space.
The glass-like claws had faded from the girls fingers though, so that was
probably positive, and she peeked subtly to see if there was anything left of
the budding mounds under her eyes but if there was it was obscured by the
girl’s damp hair. “Hermione look at me.” She kept her voice low and calm as she
commanded the First-Year. “You’re not a monster, and I’m not even remotely
angry at you, do you understand me?” She asked the Greek, who refused to either
meet her gaze or answer her.
The pitter patter of tiny feet echoed to her as Melody returned from the nearby
cubbies, helpfully with an armful of towels in her hands and a brush stuck in
her own half-dried hair. Tonks took a towel from her and swiftly dried herself
off with it, then turned back to the oldest Granger and stood her up, drying
the stiff first-year off with a cautious hand. 
“Why?” Hermione begged her in English as she placed the Tully back behind her
hair, almost too quietly to hear. “I bit you; you’re even bleeding, so why
aren’t you mad at me?”
Even if she had been mad at the girl, the desperate look the brunette gave her
would have melted her heart, as it was Tonks nearly swooned at how adorable the
look the little Firstie was giving her was.  “Oh, kid, I wasn’t kidding when I
said it wasn’t your fault.” She responded kindly, pulling the shivering girl
into her arms. “Trust me; I know from personal experience exactly what you were
going through.” She said, nuzzling down onto the top of her charge’s head.
She paused, holding Hermione close while she mulled possible explanations and
their outcomes over in her mind, finally deciding on one which no one else
would have approved of if she had bothered to ask them due to the possible
outcomes.
But Tonks, though bad at planning that far ahead, was really was good at
dealing with first-years.
“Maybe I can explain easier if I do this…” The nude teenager muttered to
herself mysteriously, slowly moving behind her charge and wrapping her in
another hug. Hermione felt Tonks’s form shrink behind her, Melody’s eyes
widened and she yelped in shock at what she saw, as the teen behind her receded
rapidly in size until the she must have stood only as tall as Hermione did
herself!
Hermione allowed herself to be turned around slowly, and the visage of the girl
behind her was somehow more frightening than even the apparition that had been
shown to her in the shower had been.
Tonks… that beautiful, bubbly, perverted, older girl that Hermione had found
herself becoming so attached to so quickly, had been twisted into a tortured
and sickly looking child that was currently giving her a mildly amused smirk.
Scarification, a hundred pale, twisted, little sigils covered the other girl’s
emaciated flesh, emanating in loose spiraling patterns that Hermione understood
must have had some sinister purpose. There were brand marks too, the biggest of
which were on the back of her hands, raised red marks with a reddish coloration
depicting an infinity symbol whose lines sprung past the nexus and formed a
strange sort of shape that seemed to move across the flesh when she wasn’t
looking directly at them.
She just looked tortured, like she had been starved and beaten. A feeling that
was reinforced by a number of bruises on the expanses of flesh that hadn’t
already been marked, with dark bags under watery black eyes and ratty unwashed
hair that was trimmed unevenly to fall just above her shoulders.
At least the bite mark on her shoulder was gone though…
“Jesus Christ Tonks!” She shouted in shock, her own actions completely
forgotten, as her stomach turned as she took in the teenager’s glaringly
contradictory new appearance. “What in God’s name happened to you?!”
The teenager, now a twisted facsimile of a normal child, just chuckled darkly.
“This is exactly how I looked when I first arrived at Hogwarts…I suppose I
should explain.” She trailed off, clearly amused by Hermione’s reaction.
“The Purebloods like to make themselves out as a force of balance and of high
civilization and in many ways they are, but there are many other aspects and
facets to both politics and general life in Avalon, the ones that are important
in this instance are the group who are known as the Shade” The teen said
flippantly, scratching her hairline and revealing a pair of budding little
horns. “The Purebloods and the Shade are each the other’s polar opposites in
every manner, what with the end goal of the Shade being the total collapse of
Avalon, into warring Unseelie courts at best...” She smiled happily and pulled
Hermione into a loose hug, wrapping her bony arms around her waist. “My
mother’s family was the Blacks, a House that has been part of the Purebloods
for literally centuries.” She explained.
“My mother resented them for it. Despised everything they stood for, whether it
was the restrictions and control or something else, I never did figure out
why.” The girl shrugged her bony shoulders causally. “Point is, when I got here
I was about as magically corrupt as a mage can get without becoming a literal
monster, and I was more than a little feral in the head due to being raised by
a crazy cultist who was living in a bog.” The teen tapped her temple
meaningfully, wiggling her eyebrows in amusement at how stunned her charge
looked by her explanation. “I was already pretty messed up, more twisted than
most wicked Unseelie. So you could say that my expectations about proper
behavior and all of that stuff were a little… let’s say, misinformed.”
“Your mother sounds like an absolute monster!” Hermione spat in shock,
disgusted both by the teenager’s description and the apparent results.
To her surprise, however, Tonks burst out into light giggles at her
declaration. “No, that would have been my Pa.” She grinned even wider at the
confusion on Hermione’s face. “I mean don’t get me wrong my mum treated me like
shit, but it wasn’t because she hated or even disliked me, it was because she
wanted me to grow up to be as powerful and dangerous as possible. Give me all
the advantages so when I went to Hogwarts I would have an edge even the other
Second-Years couldn’t compete with…” The teen, now a sickly looking little
girl, grinned lecherously, giving Hermione a pretty good idea of what “Edge”
might have meant.
“An advantage?” Melody piped in, looking as shocked and scandalized by Tonks’s
new appearance as Hermione figured she did herself.
“I think I’ve mentioned a couple of times now that certain spells and potions
can change your appearance and behavior.” Tonks explained with a nod, gesturing
for Melody to come closer. “But how you act will also do the same thing. This
is especially true in relation to other mages both in the pecking order and
later in your coven.”
“For instance,” Tonks stated, “you might have noticed in the baths last night
that Draco isn’t just effeminate in the face.” She wiggled her eyebrows again,
chuckling as Hermione flushed fantastically in her loose embrace.
“Ye-yeah, I did notice that, thank you very much.” She stammered out, feeling
embarrassed that the teen had even forced her to admit her observation.
“Do you think you can figure out why?” The shape-shifter asked her, releasing
her from her embrace and turned to pluck the brush from Melody’s hair.
Hermione hadn’t the slightest idea. “He abused a potion or something… but you
did just say that how you act can also change you, so maybe he just likes
acting like a girl?” She took a shot in the dark as Tonks released her and sat
her younger sister down on the nearby tiles to brush her moist curls.
Tonks grinned back lecherously at that answer. “Nope it wasn’t a potions
addiction or anything like that, besides Uncle Lucy would never let any real
harm come to his only heir if he could help it, and I can assure you that Draco
is quite self-conscious about how he looks.”
“Uncle Loosy?” Melody said in a confused tone, wincing as Tonks’ took a
particularly firm tug with the brush.
The black-haired girl nodded to Hermione sagely, wiping her unevenly cut
tangles from her eyes. “My mum’s sister is part of his coven… which does in
fact mean that Dior and Draco are actually my cousins.” The teen chuckled. “So
I know from experience exactly why he looks the way he does.” She continued,
licking her lips in obvious hunger.
Tonks had to resist the urge to reminisce. “It’s partly because he had so many
older sisters… whenever I would go over to their castle, they’d always be
playing with him.”
Hermione raised an eyebrow at the girl’s randy look. “If I am to fancy a guess,
this involved something typically barbarous and hedonistic?” She raised the
obvious answer to the teen sans girl.
Tonks blushed, suddenly realizing she must have been being quite transparent.
“Aside from doing things like forcing him wear dresses and put on makeup,
that’s putting it lightly.”
That only served to make Hermione more confused. “But shouldn’t he be bonded to
them then?” she questioned the scraggly girl as she finished brushing Melody’s
shoulder-length hair, having successfully turned to from a tangled mess into a
splay of much more restrained curls.
She slowly sat relaxed on the stool, as the shape-shifter moved behind her with
the brush. “No, as long as Draco didn’t perform any vaginal or anal sex
himself, a sex bond wouldn’t form,” Hermione heard the girl chuckle darkly,
“anything else you can imagine though, that was all still on the table.”
“So…” Hermione trailed off, not even being able to get the questions out past
the sudden flare of embarrassment at the teen’s implications.
“Let’s just say that his butt is bubbly for good a reason.” The Esquire teased
into her ear, with another firm brush at her mane of frizzy hair. “Both it and
his lips are pretty sensitive to both pain and pleasure, so I’d keep that in
mind if you ever find yourself at odds with him that way.”
“But why would Loosy let them do that?” Melody interrupted them, mispronouncing
the name yet again.
Tonks just snorted. “Same reason my mum did what she did to me… It gives him a
set of distinct advantages compared to some of the other boys.”
“I fail to see how that might be an advantage for a boy.” Hermione shot back,
eyebrows raised in question despite the fact that Tonks couldn’t see them. “I
mean really, shouldn’t looking like a girl get him beat up?”
“He doesn’t look like a girl Hermione, he looks like what he is… an Incubus.”
Tonks replied, and Hermione could feel the grin at her confusion even though
the other girl was behind her.
That was an interesting bit of news to her, but again Melody seemed clueless.
“You keep using these weird words!” The eight-year old whined at them, not
bothering or not able to try and probe her Tully for an explanation, her
confusion clear on her pouting features.
Hermione rolled her eyes. “The word ‘Incubus’ means a type of male demon
Melody.” She ground out in fresh exasperation at her eight-year old sibling’s
cluelessness.
“Not a demon… well not really to anyone outside of the Abrahamic  world.” Tonks
cut in. “You should understand that a lot of things have been; mythologized
over the centuries, I guess would be the right way to put it. An Incubus, in
real life at least, is just a term for a young male wizard that has been
brought up to fit a certain role in wizarding society. The modern and more
technically accurate term would be Subversive Male.”
Tonks resisted the urge to sigh in relief as she felt Hermione finally get
fully caught up in learning yet again. She was still going to have to deal with
the fallout of this later, she was certain of that, but for now the little
Helen was fully engrossed in their conversation. “Traditionally, their role
would be to help powerful wizards regulate their large covens with Tantric
magic.”
She could feel the frustrated confusion rolling off the girl’s core. “And that
means what exactly?”
“It’s a bastardized term for weaving which now is used to describe Sex magic.”
She answered the first-years question, grinning at the poleaxed look that
plastered itself across Melody’s face. “In nature, it’s believed that they
wouldn’t have even have kept their own covens, and instead they would have
simply hidden their true gender to bypass the suspicions of the coven’s wizard,
allowing them to mate-and-bolt with females that normally would have been out
of their league.” Tonks clarified.
“More historically, they attach themselves to covens who accepted them. In
exchange for helping the powerful mage control his powerful and valuable
witches with their magic, and for a bit of bottoming themselves, they would be
allowed to mate with the females of that coven on occasion.” The teen sighed
thoughtfully. “In modern times it usually doesn’t work that way anymore.”
“So they don’t attach themselves to covens?” Hermione questioned, ignoring
Melody’s helplessly confused look.
“Yes and no.” Tonk replied quickly. “Nowadays the laws require that all males
either have their own covens or they turn themselves permanently into girls,
legally you have to be a productive member of society either way, but finding
covens that are willing to share nowadays usually requires a good bit of
diplomacy on their part as only a certain number of wizards are able to snatch
up powerful girls anyways. Which means that for most males, having an Incubus
in their coven isn't worth it to them.”
“And Draco’s father is a diplomat of some sort.” Hermione responded, her mind
instantly reaching the proper conclusion. “So he is probably an Incubus as
well…”
“His father had him to become an Incubus, just like Draco is, for the skills in
diplomacy it forces one to learn.” She clarified, nodding at Hermione correct
guess. “But he isn’t one anymore, as the physical and magic differences usually
don’t last past fourth-year. At least unless they are diving deep into Tantric
magic, or are actively trying to stay that way, in which case they usually use
rituals or potions to keep themselves as young and as girly as they can be
while still able to produce semen.” The teen turned child explained while
continuing to brush Hermione’s frazzled hair. “Draco, for instance probably
will start to lose his looks by the end of his second year, midway into his
third at the latest.”
“If you want an example of a lad likely to stay that way though… if you were
paying real close attention you might have also noticed Blaise,” Tonks
continued, “he’s extremely good at being subversive so I wouldn’t judge you for
not noticing him though…”
“To be honest, I’m not actually sure if I even remembered to put him up with
the rest of the boys…” Tonks admitted, trailing off in slight embarrassment.
“Aren’t you much better at magic than me?” Hermione questioned instantly.
“Shouldn’t you have been able to tell the difference?” Her brow furrowed as
soon as the words had left her lips.
This time Tonks couldn’t help but chuckle. “The fact that powerful magic
welders struggle to tell the difference is the entire point Hermione.” Tonks
giggled behind her at her question. “If telling them apart was easy they
wouldn’t have been able to exist.”
“So what does this have to do with you?” Hermione probed, wanting to get the
conversation back on track no matter how disturbing and fascinating their
current topic was.
Tonks put the brush down and focused her magic for a moment, conjuring a hair
tie from the dust in the air. “It’s simple; sort of… what you need to
understand now is that there are three different levels of base magic that are
accepted in classical definitions. Each level is divided into several different
parts based on how many aspects have been found in each, what those aspects do,
and what can be done in turn with those aspects.” She explained, as she tied
the lion’s share of Hermione’s hair back into a high ponytail, leaving only bit
free on the sides to frame the girls face. 
Hermione frowned at the complicated explanation, feeling distinctly like the
teenager was leaving a massive amount of important information out of her
explanation. “The point is that you never have access to just one level or
aspect, it’s literally impossible to do magic with only one aspect of one
level, as the Purebloods were forced to admit long ago.”
“Incubi, for example can be explained as the result of mixing aspects of the
“Green” and “Red” magic’s of the highest tier with what is termed “Fairest”
aspect of magic from the middle tier.”
It seemed to be a none-explanation hidden in an explanation, and Tonks seemed
to realize that. “Don’t worry Hermione; it will all make a lot more sense after
you’ve had a few classes on the subject.”
“The point is, what my mother did to me was to give me power over as many
aspects as possible before first year.” The teen grinned. “As well as warp my
preferences a little…”
That seemed to carry a bit of deeper meaning to Hermione. “Preferences?” She
asked the bubbly girl curiously.
Tonks just chuckled. “Let’s just say that I was already the Sovereign over a
coven of ten witches by the end of my first year, and that not all of them
joined entirely willingly.” The teen explained, taking the time to give
Hermione’s ear a mischievously meaningful lick.
“I was having such an impact that Dumbledore himself ended up sealing my
markings, and binding me from taking any more witches on purpose, because it
was so unfair to everyone else.”
She spun Hermione around before the girl could connect the dots any further,
enjoying the wide-eyed look that came over her charge as she saw herself in the
mirror.
She had done nothing but give the girl’s hair a firm brushing, but that plus
the way she had arranged it seemed to give the bookish brunette pause. If
anything, Tonks thought she looked even cuter this way, with her bushy mane
combed into a shoulder length burst of curly chestnut hair pulled up behind her
head by the new ponytail.
“So don’t feel bad about going a little Fey on me.” The teen chuckled, ruffling
her hair playfully. “Cos I’m the best at that.”
                                       S
Harry could feel the rivers of magic pouring across his body, spreading and
smothering and drawing his senses into its grasp.
He took a deep breath instinctively, the mixed scents of sweat and arousal
adding fuel to the fires of his swelling magic, filling his lungs with the
distinct odors of sex, submission, and fear.
He didn’t need to look in a mirror to know his pupils would already be filled
with fog and indistinct green shapes, as they often were whenever he ended up
having to really deal with his twin sister. He understood his own magic and how
it affected him well enough though, experienced simply from the frequent
necessity of keeping his chaos loving twin from going on her rampages. So he
knew a decent bit about how his magic normally affected him.
Speaking of his sister, she was growling defiantly from beneath his arm, and
she snarled loudly as he pressed down on her again with his magic.
He wasn’t sure what he was going to do though, as he had never been in this
state with anyone other than Violet present. It was the sort of thing that
normally led to an hour or two of frantic, and sometimes violent, sexual play.
But with Draco and Pansy in the room he was sort of hesitant to do anything on
an internal level, not that his magic cared about that, but he didn’t think
that wasn’t the point.
However, after a second of thinking about it the raven-haired boy finally just
decided that he would have to wing it.
“That was mean of you Vi…” He growled down into the puff of red-frizzles that
topped his twins head, letting his throat catch as he spoke to make his voice
as guttural as he could get it at his age.
Violet just huffed from her place beneath him. “Did I tell you to stop?” She
snarled at Pansy and Draco, defiant of his sudden interference, and annoyed by
their disobedience of her earlier command.
The joined pair started at her snap, both jerking so hard that they nearly
separated, and Pansy gave a groaning moan as Draco’s penis half-withdrew from
her butt sharply in shock.
Violet rolled her eyes at that. “Nobody ever fucking liste-” She exhaled
sharply as he cut her off in annoyance, smashing his magic down onto her like a
millstone, feeling pleased with the way it seemed to knock the breath from her
lungs.
“I know right?” Harry ground down at her in teasing agreement, finally
beginning to become annoyed at her constant insubordination. “I mean you tell
someone to be on their best behavior and they just don’t listen…” He taunted
his sister, flipping her athletic little form over onto her back, noting how
she was completely pinned and taking quick shallow breaths under the weight of
his power.
Violet’s eyes were unaffected by the pressure though, and as the redhead gazed
up into her brothers face with lust despite the strength pinning her into the
blankets, she couldn’t help but to grin weakly. Noticing easily how strong the
hold his own magic now had on her black-haired twin, the redhead now believed
solidly that she was in for a fun time regardless of how this all panned out.
Harry on the other hand was feeling a set of entirely new reactions, having
never been this deep into this state in front of anyone but Violet, and it left
him a little unprepared for when his magic compelled him quite strongly to
leave her pinned to the blankets where she was laying.
He apparently had other business to attend to.
Pansy had felt the others in the little tent give deeply into their
Compulsions. Despite the pain that had flared from Draco’s sudden and rather
dry penetration, and the reflections emanating back at her from her shattered
cores, she was still barely able to hold on to her full higher reasoning
abilities.
She understood that this was a situation that could go a lot of different ways
very easily, many of them poor for her and the tightness of her various
orifices. So when the black-haired Tyrant left his twin pinned down against the
pillows absentmindedly, and started stalking cautiously in their direction, she
couldn’t help her sharp inhalation as she probed his magic. Harry was using a
large fraction of his strength to keep the fuzz-headed little slut pinned, but
not as much as he probably would have if the other girl was fighting against
his power at all.
That told Pansy something very important… and that was that Violet expected to
get what she wanted out of the situation regardless of her twin’s actions…
So considering that the redhead was almost solely responsible for the current
and quite literal pain in her ass, Pansy internally figured that the other
girl’s cooperation was as bad a sign for her as any she had seen so far.
But all said and done there wasn’t much she could do at the moment. She was
still pinned beneath Draco, who was still grinding painfully into her bowels
with sharp little thrusts, and the athletic boy stalking across the blankets
towards them still had about as much free magical power as she and her mate did
combined.
Harry noted dimly through the mental fog, that Draco had fallen on top of Pansy
after she had met his own eyes and gasped quietly, lying himself flush across
the top of her slightly bonier body protectively and meeting his gaze with his
own blue eyes that were almost consumed by the strange patterns dancing in his
pupils. It was as close to a gesture of defiance as the aristocratic boy was
probably comfortable with, but deep inside beneath his thundering magic, Harry
still respected him for it.
He chuckled quietly to himself in his mind, as he pawed his way until he was
next to them, coming face to face with the nearly motionless pair, taking a
deep breath through his nose that started at the side of Pansy’s chin and ended
in Draco’s short white locks. They reeked of submission, and Draco couldn’t
even meet his eyes after the action, though Pansy managed to give him something
like a glare through her own embarrassment. He grinned at her, with the magic
clouding the little tent leaving his flesh feeling hot and sensitive, at how
the air stifled them all in a distinctly sexual manner.
Draco really was pretty girly looking when he was lying atop Pansy like this,
and if Harry hadn’t known better he could have almost pretended that it was a
pair of girls waiting for him one on top of the other, and that thought
confused the higher parts of his mind even further. He still didn’t understand
what was to be expected from him at Hogwarts in far too many circumstances for
him to be completely comfortable yet, and though some details had been filled
in over the past couple of days, he was still mostly left with his own
intuition.
And right now, to his own half-annoyance, his intuition was being deeply
clouded by his magic.
But before anything could be said or done, the sound of the tent flap being
brushed aside broke the trance that had fallen over its young occupants.
Harry snapped abruptly back into normal awareness as his magic’s sway over his
mind was withdrawn by the noise of sliding silk, as did the other occupants of
the tent, agitated instantly by the notion of someone new entering their shared
space during such an intimate moment.
The tan-skinned girl that had brushed aside their tent flap, however just shot
them all with a positively lusty grin. “I figured I’d find you with him Draco…”
She cooed in a pleased tone as a delicate hand emerged from her robe to brush
her long wavy black hair away from her heart-shaped face as she crawled inside
the dim and steamy space. “Just like I’ve always said, we’re not that different
after all.”
Harry leaned back slowly into a kneeling position, seeing the looks of the pair
in front of him turn almost murderous. “Wuotan help me …” Pansy whimpered,
flopping her face into her pillow. “This is bad enough as it is, can I not just
have this in peace!” She growled into the fabric from her place beneath Draco’s
lithe body.
Draco for his part flushed an even deep red that he had already been at the
attractive girl’s sudden appearance. “Blaise, I swear to the Gods!” The blonde
hissed out, looking somewhere between angry and embarrassed by her sudden
appearance. “My father will hear about this!” He growled as the girl looked
between him and Harry and grinned at some unshared victory.
The newly christened “Blaise” ignored Draco’s whining threats. Instead she
sauntered her way up to Harry on all fours, waving her delightfully round butt
slowly in the air as she did so, obviously trying her hardest to tempt him with
it. “I suppose that it’s just a total coincidence that I find your buttering up
to the most powerful male in our entire party then?” She shot back at Draco
thoughtlessly, crawling up to where Harry was kneeling and shamelessly nuzzling
his half-hard member with her flushed cheek. “Even letting him sit in on your
first bonding?” She prodded the joined pair with a chuckle, dusky half-lidded
eyes full of bemusement as she gazed up at Harry from behind his re-hardening
penis.
His twin snarled at the new girl’s bold intrusion, lunging up from where he had
pinned her to the floor previously and launching herself across the little tent
at Blaise, her magic flaring with territorial rage.
There was no real time for Harry to really react, but he watched as the robed
girl’s expression bust into self-satisfied delight, and she snapped back
upright from his crotch just in time to catch Violet’s snarling tackle.
But instead of being pushed back into vicious wrestling with his twin, the tan
girl somehow stopped the redhead’s attack flat, scooping a roaring Violet flush
against her robed form and into a kiss. His twin’s green eyes widened in
dumbstruck shock, and as Blaise’s hands slid sensuously up and down her
muscular back, she immediately began struggling.
But then something completely unexpected happened.
Blaise’s robed form seemed to almost glow for an instant, flashing with a smoky
purple aura, and her thick, steamy core seemed to engulf Violet’s fire with a
blanketing smother. His twin melted slack against her in limp submission
immediately, falling loosely backwards from the kiss breathing hard and with a
confused and dazed look on her freckled face, which transformed into a sort of
feverish lust only a moment later.
“Ooooh!” She moaned breathily as she sunk into the blankets, her hands
immediately sliding up and down the front of her nude body sensually, stopping
only to toy with her own hardened nipples. “Can… can I do that again Harry?”
She asked him a little deliriously, not even glancing in Blaise’s direction
now, the other girl’s presence and misdeeds seemingly forgotten.
Harry, for his part, had to resist the urge to let his mouth fall flat open in
astonishment. He had never in his life seen Violet, his lusty, violent, easily
jealous twin sister be subdued in such a swift and easy manner.
Blaise seemed to sense his shock, and she gave a disapproving giggle. “Shame on
you Draco,” she rebuked the gaping blonde with a contemptuous flip of her wavy
black hair, “you’ve were monopolizing him all of yesterday, and yet you
obviously never informed him you were an incubus. What else have you been
hiding from him?”
Draco suddenly seemed more annoyed by her question than anything else. “It’s
not like I asked for this!” The fuming blonde shot back, swiftly shifting his
knees to as he kneeled up and leveling an accusing finger at the sultry girl,
before having his temper reined in by Pansy yelping unhappily in pain beneath
him.
“Be careful you dolt!” The dark-haired girl growled unhappily. “You can’t just
jump up like that your bloody prick up my ass!” She half-whimpered half-snarled
up at her partner in pain and displeasure.
Blaise giggled again at the amateur pair, a fresh coat of amusement mixing with
the look of lust on her pretty face. “You should know better Draco; you’ve
always had trouble handling more than one partner at a time.” She teased back
at them, wiggling her eyebrows at Harry meaningfully. Then leaning down and
giving Violet’s toned thigh a long languid lick, asking Harry for permission
with her dark eyes the entire time.
It was a timid, hesitant sort of look, one that immediately told Harry
something was up.
His power flared again as he pressed forward, pinning Blaise to the cushions
with a smooth motion. The dark-haired first-year didn’t put a single ounce of
resistance as she allowed herself to be slid back into a submissive position
beneath his body.
Instead her eyes filled with a glimmer of hopeful expectation as she licked her
lips in obvious arousal.
Though as Harry slowly brushed the silky black cloak away, the designation of
‘her” swiftly became anachronistic…
Blaise was a boy?… or an incubus?… whatever that word was supposed to mean,
Harry wasn’t sure yet, but as he gazed incredulously on the thin little sex
organ laying half-erect against the Incubus’s thigh he internally figured there
must have been some difference.
There was one thing he could tell for absolutely certain though, and that was
that Blaise was a girl in every other respect that he could see or sense.
Long tanned legs widening up into a heart shaped pelvis, and that was followed
by a thin and waspish waist, flaring slightly again up to a chest that was
somehow even topped by a pair of freshly budding breasts.
The Incubus was certainly very pretty… with his tan-skinned face drawn up into
a heavy-eyed pout, which brightened as Blaise seemed to have an idea, and he
swiftly unraveled a long tongue out between his lips and hooked a slender
finger to pull his cheek wide. Drooling onto his own chin and throat as the
dusky-skinned boy moaned girlishly at the very good view he was giving Harry
into the pink wetness of his mouth.
That set Harry’s magic off, and it roared to him at such an indecent
invitation. Not even his lusty sister Violet had ever preformed such a lewd
gesture for him, an unmistakable invitation to drive his cock as far down into
that pretty pink passage as he could force it.
Harry held off, but barely, trying to feel out the boy with his magic. Blaise’s
core was just as mysterious as his form, and it seemed to leak outward from his
feminine form with all the subtly of a screaming kettle, a burning hot blast of
steam that actively tried to blanket Harry’s own probing tendrils of magic in a
sort of infectious sexual heat and refused to tell him anything about the
person beneath him.
Other than that the person lying so lewdly beneath him was a girl…?
And Harry did think that Blaise looked like a girl, and not just a bit in
certain ways or from certain directions like Draco did, but as an extremely
attractive and convincing apparition of the feminine form which lay in abject
and excited submission beneath him. Staring up with wide lusty eyes filled with
hope and promises that he could not discern. “So now you have me here…” Blaise
cooed huskily up at him as she unhooked her manicured finger from her cheek and
ran the moist digit up Harry’s chest. “Now what do you plan on doing to me?”
There was a thousand things that Harry could have done, a thousand things his
magic was demanding that he should do to, but in the end he settled for sliding
a calloused hand slowly up Blaise’s chest. He marveled for a moment at the fact
that the boy had actual breasts, tiny things to be sure but enough for him to
give a little squeeze, before sliding his palm up around her slender throat.
“Ooooh, yes…” Blaise hissed as his had closed around her windpipe, his steamy
magic flaring into the tent and leaving Harry’s skin tingling. “Choke me like a
cheap fucking whor-” The lusty look in her eyes and the pleased little moan
that Blaise made as he slowly closed his grip around her neck making Harry have
to resist a chuckle.
Somewhere in the background, Pansy and Draco were slyly grinding back and forth
into each other again, whispering and whimpering quietly to one another back in
their own little world, while Violet frantically mashed the little button
hidden at the top of her slit. Jerking her bony hips in pleasure while taking
deep gasps of the sex filled air and moaning happily.
It was a wonderfully accurate picture of the effect of sexual arousal could
have on magic, and Harry had absolutely no idea how far all five of them would
have ended up going… of not for the deafening toll of what must have been a
huge bell echoing from somewhere above them.
Violet yelped, Draco yelped too and almost literally leapt from his position
atop Pansy in a startled motion that left the bony girl snarling into her
pillow in pained rage, Harry for his part tensed hard. Hard enough that he knew
that his hand mark was going to leave a good mark on Blaise’s neck.
“MOTHERFUCKER!” Pansy roared in anger an instant later, her arms going tight
hard enough to lift her front half from the floor as the black-haired girl
screamed loudly in pain and indignation.
Violet, fitting her normal temper, was the next to start shouting. “What in
Hel’s name was that?!” His sister demanded, even angrier for having her fun
interrupted for the third time.
Draco groaned after picking himself back up, laid a comforting hand on Pansy’s
abused butt and ignored her irate glare. “I think,” he answered cautiously, “at
least if what Amarante told me is true. Then that should be the wakeup bell,
and it means we need to start getting ready for our classes.” He paused and
after a disappointed sigh, sniffed himself. “After a good bath I think.
Pansy… did not take the news well. “Can. I. Never. Have. Anything. Go. My.
Way.?” The dark-haired girl snarled, before flipping herself over gingerly
taking obvious care to try and keep her legs spread. “Just once was all I
asked.” The witch implored the sky for whichever gods or goddesses might have
been listing.
Blaise took the moment to look disappointed at the interruption as Harry freed
her neck, swallowing thickly and grinning up at him, as their magic tangled
into what he immediately recognized from his first few sexual experiences with
Violet as a temporary bond. “A fine mark, from a fine partner.” She grinned
lustily and sat up close to him, leaning so her little budding breasts were
flush with the wiry muscles of his chest as Harry leaned back into a kneeling
position above her, fingering the rapidly reddening hand mark lovingly even as
Violet growled at her.
“If you think for one fucking second that I’ll let some Helen imitating boy-
slut have any stake in my mate I’ll rip your dick off and feed it to your cock-
loving mouth!” She snarled territorially, Draco and Pansy rolling their eyes in
the background as the blonde tried to help his former partner into a kneeling
position.
Before Harry could interject to try and stop another agreement, a fresh flash
of dusky heat came across the newly formed temporary bond with the tan-skinned
Incubus, and Blaise chuckled merrily at her. “Like you tore me a new one last
time?” She teased an angrily hesitant Violet, with a confidant swish of her
wavy black hair. “Don’t you get it Red? I’m a full Incubus and you’re a female.
There is literally no power you hold over me, you literally don’t even have the
ability to touch me if I don’t let you.”
“That’s the point of being an Incubus; I can steal the thoughts from your head
and the strength from your body, replace them and leave you a frantically
masturbating harlot with nothing more than my close proximity.” She finished,
giggling a little tauntingly.
Violet snarled viciously, blistering waves of white-hot rage boiling off of her
core and setting little sparks dropping from her hair and beading down her
body, but she stayed crouched on the pillows. Choosing instead to glare
hatefully, but impotently through her sweaty red frizzles at Blaise from
several feet away, still visibly reluctant to allow the Incubus anywhere near
her body despite her bottled wrath.
Blaise turned from his fuming sister to give Draco a look that was halfway
between disappointed and pitying. “An opportunity my longtime playmate
squandered until his gift finally vanished.”
“Gift?” Harry questioned them, finally managing to get a word in.
Draco snorted at that, seemingly not having heard Harry, he shot back at
Blaise. “Getting used as my older sisters plaything is hardly what I would call
a gift…” He trailed off, slightly spitefully.
Blaise rolled her eyes at the blonde’s response. “Like almost unlimited power
over the fairer sex, and sex in general, isn’t worth having girls put you in
dresses and letting them sex the absolute shit out of you from a ripe young
age.” She chuckled, smiling and revealing row of perfect white teeth. “Most
boys would give their right hand for an opportunity like that…”
Draco shot back a frown as he lifted his new mate to stand gingerly. “Believe
it or not, I don’t actually like having things stuck up my butt.” He answered
her sarcastically. “And I definitely don’t plan to let anyone’s “spear”
anywhere near it.”
Blaise giggled, as Pansy gave Draco a glare for his irony, and the black-haired
Incubus leaned back against Harry’s chest, looking over her shoulder at him as
she twirled a stray black lock. “He might not, but I sure do!” She finished
with a wink and a pulse of her steamy core that washed across the tent and left
both Draco and Harry almost painfully erect again.
“I’m already going to have blue-balls Blaise, can you please not make things
worse than they already are?” Draco groaned in irritation, pitching at his
sharp nose with his free hand.
Violet blinked owlishly, seemingly having made an observation as the three of
them stood up to fallow Draco and Pansy. “Wait a second? You guys know each
other?”
“Your just realizing that now?” Pansy answered, giving Violet an unimpressed
look, as they all fumbled around for their cloaks.
Blaise giggled as they slid them around their shoulders, leaning back close to
Violet and allowing her own cloak to slide closed again. “Oh yes, are families
have been allies for a long time. The Zabini’s were the first family to take
the Malfoy’s into an alliance when they came over from Gallia.”
That perked Harry’s interest. “You’re family has been here longer?”
“Oh yes, we came over with Aulus Plautius during the first Roman invasion.” She
sighed nostalgically. “The Romans never liked Magi much, even back then, but
they still studied them and even accepted limited numbers of witches and
wizards into the auxiliaries. So… a very long story short one of my ancestors,
a witch by the name of Titia Zabini came over to help the legions combat the
Celtic Magi, and when the rest of the Romans left we decided to stay behind.”
“And the whole “Incubus” thing?” He asked her as they left the tent just behind
Draco and a still limping Pansy.
She gave him a lusty look. “My families been doing it for centuries, we’re as
close as you can get to a matriarchal family of Magi as you can get, as all of
our boys are made into Incubi. But the basic idea behind it is that I help you
keep your girls in line with sex magic, and in exchange you would occasionally
allow me to have sex with a girl in your coven who I wouldn’t normally be able
to attract with my small core… not that I’m actually all that interested in
girls, to be honest.” She admitted to the obvious, smiling in amusement as a
number of boys emerged from their tents with varying levels of bellyaching and
complaining.
Harry thought back to Blaise licking Violet’s thigh and raised an eyebrow in
question. “Only boys?”
Blaise groaned in frustration, and leaned in to whisper. “Ok, some girls but
not often, I done even like being top, so your sis being aggressive does get me
riled up… and to be honest, if it was up to me I would live entirely like my
ancestors and just rely on your graces.” She leaned back a little unhappily.
“But unfortunately I have to form a coven with at least one girl.” She added, a
little unhappily, as she pulled back from his ear. “I’d much rather just be
your plaything though…” She declared more loudly, leaning against him and
ignoring Violet’s snarl.
His twin, finally having enough, quickly shoved the Incubus from his side.
Attaching herself to his arm possessively as Gregory and Goyle emerged from
around a tent and saluted Draco tiredly, both of the muscular boys grinning
proudly at the slender blonde as they noticed Pansy’s obvious limp.
Blaise seemed to take his twin’s territorial behavior in easy stride. Merely
grinning at Harry, sliding a slender finger up her own throat onto the bruise
there and pulsing their core’s temporary connection hotly, as she sauntered
backwards towards the “tree-tower’s” staircase with a pronounced waggling of
her cloaked hips. “I suppose I should give you two some space…” She giggled.
“After all, I wouldn’t want to invade on someone else’s mark.” She said while
looking directly at Violet, with sarcasm so thick it seemed to drip from her
lips.
His sister hissed like an angry adder, gripping his arm so tight that her nails
probably came close to drawing blood. “I get the feeling that you’re a little
jealous Vi…” He commented dryly to her, raising an eyebrow cautiously.
His twin gave him a look, pulsing how blindingly obvious she thought his
comment was through their bond, and snarling again as she felt the temporary
connection he still had to Blaise. “I want to kill her.” She hissed beneath her
breath as he freed his arm from her death grip and slid it around her shoulder
reassuringly. “I want to cut her throat and eat her heart and….”
They made their way quickly down the flying staircase to the base of the “tree-
tower” as Violet continued muttering darkly to herself, and Harry allowed
himself a second to marvel at the large number of scantily clad girls in
various states of undress awaiting them at the bottom while she was distracted,
all sleepily making their way to the baths.
Violet hissed again as she took in all of the half-naked girls turning back to
throw him shy or flirty smiles, immediately pushing him towards the front of
the loose band stumbling towards the bathing room.
It was with some surprise then, that as he was about to enter the bath room,
that Tonks emerged sharply from around the corner. Wearing a loose yellow robe
draped over her shoulders and giving their group a mildly impressed look as a
similarly robed Hermione and her tabard wearing little sister came stumbling
around the corner after the tall teen, all three of them obviously freshly
bathed.
Hermione looked even more tempting than she had been the night before, with her
hair now up in a loose ponytail that unveiled the sides of her face and neck
that her fluffy mane had hidden, and there was a halfway sort of vulnerability
about her mannerisms that had definitely not been present the night before.
That changed the instant she saw the crowd, and her entire form instantly wound
up into something half-resembling indignation. “We’ll…” her eyes narrowed
slightly as they fell upon his twin, “It’s about time you got a bath in
Violet.” He sensed it easily as the aurora around the brunette Greek’s core
flashed, expanding rapidly as she stared his sister down.
Violet gave a pleased snarl and pulled away from him, allowing her magic to
expand and match Hermione’s as she closed. Then she seemed to remember
something, and the both spared a glance up to Tonks, who had pulled Melody back
out of range and was leaning casually against the wall with a bemused grin on
her attractive face.
“You’re only allowed to fight in the Dorm room at the moment girls…” She
answered the unasked question more than a little smugly. “That means reel it
back or I’ll have to get involved… again.”
The teenager did sound slightly apologetic about that last bit, as cryptic as
it was. Giving the pair a shrug as a wiry little blonde emerged from behind
them and slipped past the glaring pair nervously while they were focused on
Tonks.
Harry rolled his eyes at both of them. “Violet… we will eventually have to go
to classes; we might as well get a bath in beforehand.” He commented, throwing
a comforting hand casually around her shoulder again, trying to massage her
core with tendrils of his magic.
His twin exhaled slowly as her magic caved to his ministrations, closing her
eyes and calming slightly. “Fine.” She gave in as the rest of the students
began trickling past them, and he shot something like an amused glare at
Hermione as she dragged him towards into the bath room.
Hermione watched the redhead drag her brother into the baths, the larger part
of the crowd of other First-Years shambling in after them.
She spared a grateful look up at Tonks for saving her from her own big mouth,
as the tall teen gave her a friendly grin. “I’m gonna go and get Penny, and
then we’ll take you all to get some breakfast… try not to start a riot before I
get back.” The shape-shifter pleaded with her jokingly as she gently guided
Melody back into Hermione’s embrace. “No doubt she’ll be gnawing my ear off the
entire time it takes me to get back here anyway, though.” The teen admitted to
her in a theatrically exhausted tone as she simply vanished into thin air
without a sound.
                                       S
It was almost thirty minutes later that the Esquire returned, in which time
Hermione had explored her wooden locker nestled on the end of the dorm’s far
wall.
Impossibly, they were larger on the inside than on the outside. Her locker
hiding an entire little room inside, containing an empty shelf for books, a
chest with a lock presumably for valuables, a dresser with six drawers, as well
as an armoire.
Everything but the dresser and the armoire were completely empty. The wardrobe
contained several pairs of black tunics silk with familiar red trim, three red
leather belts for her tunics, an extra cloak identical to the one she was
already wearing, and a heavy cotton winter-cloak with a fur-lined hood.
There was also a spare red tabard for Melody with another black belt.
And blessedly, there was also a pair of sandals for each of them at the bottom
of the wardrobe, and they even fit them well enough.
The dresser contained only two things in the top left drawer, a leather waist-
holster for her staff, with her own misplaced staff from yesterday somehow
already inside its sheath… and a black silk collar with her initials engraved
in the silver golden buckle sitting next to it.
It seemed that the perverted shape-shifter hadn’t forgotten about the idea
after all…
Melody had taken one look at the thing, and then given her the most adorable
pout she had seen from her sister in a long while, complete with shiny little
tears beading at the corners of her wide brown eyes and a quivering lip.
She had rolled her eyes at that… as though the eight-year old even needed to
pout about it. She certainly wasn’t going to dress her eight-year old sister up
even more like a slave, regardless of how much of a pain in the ass she could
be some times.
After dressing herself, internally bemoaning the fact that the heights of
Byzantine fashion had not reached this far into Europa, she had wandered back
out into the common room.
Dressed now in a black and red tunic, and cloaked by the replacement cape left
in her wardrobe. Hermione finally felt a small bit of the sensation of
vulnerability leave her. Not that the cloak gifted to her earlier hadn’t been
nice or well made… but being essentially nude did tend to leave one feeling
open.
It was not five minutes later, that Tonks returned with Penny in tow. Penelope
announcing to the gathering crowd of First-Years, that they needed to be
dressed and ready for breakfast in five minutes or less.
That had sent the rest of her peers scrambling, which made her happy she had
decided to get dressed already, so Hermione along stood watch with her sister
and listened in amused silence as Penny sniped at Tonks sarcastically for not
coming back the night before while everyone else rushed to toss their clothes
on.
When they were all dressed, Tai arrived in a flourish of white cotton robes,
the Egyptian teen revealing her presence by seemingly stepping out from behind
thin air as though she had stepped into the room from behind an invisible wall.
That was something she had seen a lot, and it posed some disturbing
implications for Hermione… it was more or less identical to how Tonks had
disappeared earlier, but in reverse. Despite her own nerves, the bushy-haired
Helen couldn’t help herself from feeling the little twinge in her stomach,
admitting to herself inside that she was genuinely excited by the prospect of
their classes.
And, though she would never admit it to Melody, the prospect of learning
something, which for the longest time in her life had been forbidden knowledge,
was frankly a mouthwatering temptation.
It was a powerful craving, one that she already knew she would be unable to
resist, and wouldn’t want to even if she could.
She pulled Melody close to herself as the passageway to the staircase opened
back up, and after that far too short ascent, they arrived back at the sliding
fountain that covered the portal to their dorm.
The foyer was unchanged, except for a couple of large wooden crate that sat in
the center. Tai marched up and slid the lid off one of them, reaching in and
pulling out a small satchel. “These are for carrying your things, do not lose
them…” The tan-skinned teenager ground out.
Sliding the top off of then next crate, she pulled out a ball of yarn. “Alright
you brats.” The bald girl sniped at them, plainly angry about something.  “You
all are going to take one, put them in your satchels, and keep them with you at
all times, got it?
Tonks swooped up next to the shorter Esquire. “I am going to emphasis that it
is extremely easy to get lost in Hogwarts, for reasons that will be explained
in one of your classes later today.” The shape-shifter added, motioning with
her hands for emphasis. “Later in the year, when we’re not guiding you all to
classes every day, you’ll be able to use these to find your way around.” She
explained, holding up a ball of colorful string. “You pump a little magic in
them, and the twine will automatically unwind in the direction of our dorm.”
“Also, the balls are tuned to our magic and our specific dorm, that means don’t
trade with people who aren’t in our parties or you will get yourself hopelessly
lost.” Penny cut in, throwing a stern look at Tonks who grinned in response.
“And I hope that it goes without saying that you’ll be punished if I have to
tract you down.”
“Anyways!” Tonks cut back in, bursting with a pleased energy that made Tai
scowl up at her. “Let’s get you all to breakfast!”
When they didn’t turn to go down the hallway back to the Great Hall, but
instead slipped down another passageway, Hermione made a point to walk a little
faster than most of her peers. Swiftly catching up to a flirty Tonks, who was
trying to grope Penny in a vaguely subtle manner, and was receiving half-irate
glares in return. “”Excuse me?” She cut in as Tonks gave Penny’s butt a pinch
and the brown-haired teen flushed fantastically. “Aren’t we going to the Great
Hall for breakfast?”
Penny gave her a thankful glance as she interrupted Tonks’s well-meaning but
overly flirtatious attempts at getting back into the younger teen’s good
graces. “Nope,” The shape-shifter replied, distracted from her earlier
flirting, “the Great Hall is only used for feasts, because it requires so much
more work and coordination by the various kitchens to use. There are minor
dining rooms in the First Wall, which is the wall we’re in currently by the
way… We will still have feasts on the weekends and holidays though, so we’ll be
back in only a couple of days.” The shapely teen explained, noting in amusement
the flashes of both relief and disappointment that slid across the faces of the
various First-Years who were listening.
“Our dining room isn’t too far from the dorms, thankfully. Just down these
stairs here.” Penny continued, gesturing as the hallway widened into a chamber
illuminated by a number of tall, stained-glass windows, and as they got closer
the room revealed itself to be the top of a large spiraling staircase carved
out of marble. “This staircase leads to our dorm’s dining room, our laundry
room, and our library.” She continued to explain, pointing to the various
landings as they reached the stairs.
“How on Earth can you people afford all of this!” Melody interjected, flailing
her arms wildly as they came to the top of the stairs, hopping up and making
her tabard flap lightly to reveal her butt to Hermione and everyone else behind
her.
Tai snorted, rubbing her hairless head. “Dumbledore is a genius kid, it’s
pretty much literally that simple.” She answered, throwing Melody a dismissive
glance. “Through his machinations, Hogwarts is the single most important
holding in the entirety of Avalon and the lands that bow to its will.” She
continued haughtily, ignoring the sound of faraway trumpets that seemed to echo
from somewhere beyond the stairs.
As they started down the marble steps, Tonks made a point to clarify the
younger Esquire’s explanation. “Think about it,” she added as Padma and a few
other interested students began crowding the front of their descending group,
“a lot of the students here come from rich families, some very rich families,
and they come from all over the world, so it’s not usually too hard to persuade
many parents to donate to the school. Hogwarts itself is also a powerhouse,
economically speaking, because we produce a large number of magical and mundane
goods here… and we put our students to work in various fields after their first
few years to help them gain experience doing things like leading troops and
medicine and stuff.” She finished as they arrived on the staircases first
landing, where a largish room with a pair of long twin tables sat. Much more
modest, and looking to be the perfect size to seat their two parties.
Each table was long enough for about thirty people each, and they were already
set ahead of time with plates, cups and silverware. There was no food though,
which Hermione thought was a little odd, but since the food had seemingly
teleported in the Great Hall; she figured something similar would be done here.
She had not figured on the wooden door at the end of the little hall swinging
open, to reveal half-a-dozen other children dressed in nothing other than white
loincloths to march in carrying trays coated in food and pitchers of drink, the
very moment they had all seated themselves.
Tonks had to resist the urge to laugh, at the looks that came across the faces
their gaggle of Firsties, she could even see Mirriam’s blush even through the
Muslim girl’s darkened skin. “How’s it going guys?” She teased the servants
with an amused giggle.
Tomas, the oldest of them at nine, gave her a pleased grin and a lazy salute.
“Swell, hot as the pit in the kitchens though, Nia’s trying to bake some
blasted mixture of bread and flesh…” He trailed off with a light giggle,
setting down a platter coated in various fruits and berries near a gaping Padma
and running a hand through his long blonde hair while his compatriots nodded in
agreement. “I like cleaning better.” The boy admitted to her with a confidant
smirk, sauntering up closer to her and giving her body a long cocky look he
didn’t even try to hide.
She nodded, allowing her hair to flow through a variety of colors, taking in
the questioning looks from the various kids in her group. “These guys are
called lautus,” she explained to those that weren’t from Avalon, “they’re
potion castrated servants bound to the castle, tasked with the serving of food
and more menial tasks like cleaning things…”
“We also can’t be bound to any one person.”  Another Lautus admitted with a
friendly waggle of her eyebrows. “So feel free to take advantage of that, if it
pricks your fancy.” And she giggled at the reaction of some of the students as
she followed her companions back through the door they had emerged from.
Melody gave the room a relieved look, pleased that the Lautus had given her no
more attention than anyone else, while fingering her red tabard in a much more
pleased manner than she had previously. “At least I don’t have to wear one of
those.” She muttered quietly to herself as she scarfed down a plate of cheesy
eggs, washing it down with honeyed milk, her Tully translating the complaints
of the French girl down the table into her ears for her without prompting. 
Apparently the food in England was “heavy”, whatever that was supposed to mean.
The eight-year old tuned out most of the rest of the meal, instead trying to
decipher the meanings of the scenes in the stain-glass windows while
occasionally popping grapes into her mouth, listening only periodically when
her sister said something that sounded important.
She even managed to swipe a little wedge of cheese as the same group of Lautus
from earlier returned to take the leftover food back, hiding it in her armpit
as they all stood up to leave.
As they began filing up the stairway again, Tonks and Penny pulled her aside,
gesturing for Hermione. “Yes?” her sister asked for both of them, raising an
eyebrow questioningly as Melody followed her closely.
Penny pulled a leaf of parchment from a pocket in her white and blue robe, and
handed it to her older sister. “You’ll have to decide what you want your serv-”
Tonks kicked her in the shin, though only Melody could see it from her angle
beside Hermione. “Sister is to do while you’re in classes.” The teenager
explained in a slightly flustered no-nonsense tone. “She can stay in the dorms
and guard your stuff if you want, or you can take her to class and have her
help you carry things and the like… I would recommend you have her take some of
the classes we have for non-magi at some point though, there are a bunch of
options in the list. But you can always decide to have her take classes later
if you want to keep her around for now.” The brunette finished, looking down at
Hermione expectantly.
Hermione for her part, was sort of dumbstruck, and frowned and folded the
partchment. “I think that I’ll bring her with me today.” She replied
cautiously, wrapping her free arm around her little sister’s shoulders. This
was not something she had wanted to think about now, and so she decided to put
it off until later. “Could I keep this and decide later, after I’ve had time to
read it through and contemplate things a little more thoroughly?” She asked,
receiving an approving look from both Penny and Tonks.
“Of course,” the oldest Esquire replied. “I certainly wouldn’t shame you for
wanting to think things through.” She replied, making just a little dash of
shame flash through Hermione at her half-deception.
“Ye-yeah…” She trailed off, as the two Esquires led her and her younger sister
quickly up the stairs to catch up with their group.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
--------------------------------------
Well that took way too long...
I do hope the wait was worth it. I was unsure how exactly I wanted to mesh
magic with biology, as to my knowledge no one else has ever really done a more
in depth look at how magic might effect something like evolution.
Which started me thinking about how sex magic might effect a person, and well
it's pretty common knowledge that the fandom has no real consensus on Blaise's
gender and I decided to go with something i thought was both cool and funny.
Speaking of which, "Subversive Males" are a real thing that occurs in nature,
the Incubus idea in specific came to me after I watched a video on cuttlefish,
as it is a real strategy those critters use in real life.
I suppose I will leave you all now with the question, do you want Harry to top
Blaise or not, it's not a poll and I have plans for either option, but I'm
curious about you guy's opinion on it.
Until next time, cheers mates!
***** Classes and and Drugs and Hints of More *****
And now we finally arrive at the classes themselves. As usual, I decided to do
something completely different with the classes, instead of just redoing the
same days we have all read a thousand times before in a thousand different
fics. I hope your all excited to read about sexual dimorphism!
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
--------------------------------------
After breakfast was finished, their first class as it turned out to Harry’s
surprise, was called “Magical Society, Sex-Ed, Society and Etiquette” and the
black-haired boy almost had to sigh in relief at the practicality. Instead he
internally thanked whoever had had the foresight to make that subject their
first class as they were shepherded into the rather smallish round room.
It was in a modestly sized stone chamber lit by high set stain-glass windows,
with five rows of benches that wrapped in a half-circle around the room, each
row being about two feet up higher than the row before it so that everyone got
a clear view of the raised dais with its squat little podium on the room’s far
side.
Aside from the podium and the blackboards behind it though, the room was
relatively sparsely decorated, though the oak benches they were herded into had
decent enough cushions even if they were rather thinly padded.
He also noted quietly to himself that Ron and Rachel both shared a glance and
flushed fantastically to each other when the teacher walked up to the podium.
Moments later he understood why, as their Esquires asked a “Mrs. Weasley” for
dismissal.
That meant that their first class was most likely being taught by a woman who
was probably either their mother or a very close relation… which had to be
embarrassing for them.
Mrs. Weasley herself was a plumpish, jolly looking woman of about forty years
if he Harry to guess, who carried with her all of the trappings of the
motherly-matron sort of stereotype and seemed to radiate a kind of doting but
henpecking kindness. With a big, broad-brimmed witch hat and some of the
reddest robes he had seen on anyone yet, she stood boldly before the two large
chalkboards set against the back wall and grinned widely at them as the
Esquires saw themselves out.
“Well, I suppose it is my honor to welcome you all to your very first class at
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!” The rounded matron addressed them
enthusiastically. “I’ll just have to ask you all a few questions, and then we
can get right to your first lesson.” She stated with brimming excitement as she
bustled around the wooden podium, plucking a curled up chart from inside and
spreading it out before her.
Mrs.Weasley paused for a moment, her bright eyes scanning as she smoothed what
looked to be a curled up leaf of parchment resting at the top of the podium
from where Harry was sitting. “Alright, the chart looks to have all of your
names…” She trailed off to herself a little quietly.
His core tingled, and he turned his head to where Violet was sitting on the
bench next to him. She gestured with her eyes to where Draco and his half of
their group were sitting on another bench nearby; the blonde in question was
still getting looks from his former betrothed, which alternated between pained
annoyances and bubbly happiness every few minutes.
Pansy it seemed, was finding their new bond to be too enjoyable to stay
consistently mad about the way that morning had turned out.
He grinned at the snub-nosed girl’s cute behavior; it was unbelievably similar
to the manner his twin had behaved in after he first bonded her, a mix of
irritation and pain from the initial sex, and pleasure and ingrained
satisfaction from the magical bond itself.
“Ah, there we go!” Mrs. Weasley announced from the front, startling him back
into focus. “Everyone is here so… Alright, I just want you all to raise your
hands honestly if you answer to one of these question is no. Remember, there is
no need to be embarrassed, this is information that will be necessary for your
further education.” She assured them with another kind smile. “Ok, who here
cannot read more than a hundred words or less in any language?” She asked them,
and Harry chuckled quietly at the scowling face his twin made when she raised
her hand… along with about fifteen other students from their group of sixty.
Mrs. Weasley nodded, swiftly making a tic by the names on her chart of the
students who raised their hands. “Good, now who here would say they know very
little about how Avalon functions as a high society?” This time he had to raise
his hand along with his sister, and around half of the other children in the
room who were not native to the main island region or who were probably from
peasant or lower-class families.
“Oh dear, I suppose I’ll have my work cut out for me.” The redheaded matron
responded at all the raised hands, looking mildly pleased with the notion
despite the extra work it must have meant for her. 
There were a couple more questions, along the lines of the first two, and Harry
ended up raising his hand twice again before they stopped. Once when asked if
they had any in depth understanding of physical or magical combat, and again
when asked if they had any leadership skills.
Combat was something he was quite proficient at, and he figured leading Violet
counted as skill in leadership. After all, leading troops would probably be
easy compared to keeping his sister under heel all the time.
“Alright, I think I have a general idea of what I’m working with here.” The
woman finally announced after twenty minutes or so of questioning, clicking her
tongue and tapping the parchment with her slender wooden wand and causing the
treated skin to vanish into thin air.
“Now then, today’s first lesson…some introductory sexual biology and some basic
etiquette. We’ll start with things from the boy’s perspective today, as they
are the simplest and the most relevant to you all right now, and we’ll work our
way across the girl’s table over the next few days.” The redheaded matron
announced with an idle flourishing spin of her wand.
“The first concept you need to grasp is that your magic will inevitably alter
you to suit your role in the hierarchy, and the girls will change more subtly
for your role in your coven.” The woman continued. “Boys have three natural
varieties of dimorphism that are determined by their general behavior, during
the next few years the differences will become even more obvious as you fight,
your magic strengthens and you acquire girls for your own covens. It is
important to note however, that if the differences are not maintained by your
behaviors they will eventually fade as you exit the Ignition phase of your core
growth and enter the Ember phase.” Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips. “Both the
terms Ingition and Ember, in this instance, refer directly to the speed of core
growth, and don’t worry if you don’t understand it right now. We’ll get to your
lesson on the mechanics of magical core’s in due time.”
Then she continued. “Now all three of the dimorphic types behave and interact
differently, both with girls and their counterparts.” She paused and grinned at
them, waiting for a moment for the looks of understanding in her students
before starting off again. “The first type is referred to in modern Avalonian
entomology as “Iacebatin”. The meaning of the term itself is roughly drawn from
the Latin phrase, “lay with”, as they are what most would consider classically
masculine in both appearance and to a greater extent behavior.” The witch
continued off, allowing several pieces of chalk to begin writing bullet points
on the board behind her in several different languages for the benefit of the
student’s that could not read simplified Latin script.
Harry was distracted from the explanation for a moment by Draco throwing a
dirty look at a grinning Ron, who had whispered something to his sister loudly
enough for the blonde to hear it from behind them, but he brought his attention
back as Mrs. Weasley continued. “The second type of male is the “Poneiuxta”
whose Latin name means roughly to “lay near”.” Mrs. Weasley went on to clarify,
as another piece of chalk beginning to draw diagrams comparing various facial
and physical features on her second blackboard. “They tend to be less overly
masculine in behavior, and are more physically androgynous to varying degrees.”
As she finished Violet elbowed Harry’s ribs, shooting him an overly cheerful
grin with the implication being obvious, and he glowered at her in annoyance.
Not needing yet another distraction, especially if he was going to be the only
one of the two of them to actually pay any attention.
“The last and least common type of male Magi is the Incubus, a much older term
for an older form of dimorphism which comes from before the physical and
magical distinction existed between the former two types I previously
mentioned, meaning quite loosely “to lay or to weight upon”. The terms are a
bit bastardized from their root meanings, but more or less indicate how close
their physical appearance, and to some degree their magical signature and their
typical instinct level behavior is to what would be expected out of a basic
magical female in both behavior and appearance.” The Red-headed matron
continued unabated, noting internally that a modest number of the students were
now paying her closer attention as she got into the meat and potatoes of the
lesson. Even just the twenty or so who were visibly engrossed in the lesson…
for the first day that was quite a large number all things considered.
Though a large of the children raised in Wizarding families were visibly tuning
her lecture out, that was to be expected, and she had no doubt that most of
them already understood this subject quite intimately.
“These differences are predicated by your behavior, which itself is based in
your personality.” She gave the class a wink as she continued on. “It is your
personality, your desires and motivations that determine your core type as
well, but as I said earlier we will cover that and go into more detail about
specific core types at another time.”
She moved her focus to the Tithe students, the reaction of three children in
particular was what she was putting the most focus on. “Iacebatin,” she
continued evenly, making a point to not maker her observations of them obvious,
“are the most confrontational with other boys. This has the interesting side
effect of making them tend to be the most pleasant in their relations to girls
as a result, as they have less of a need to coerce girls into their laps,
especially if they can combine physical fighting strength with an impressive
magical core.” She gestured to the youngest Longbottom who was sat in the
middle row directly in the middle of the half-ring of benches, and he blinked
widely at being pointed out. “Neville, if you don’t mind me putting you on the
spot here lad, is a fine example of a Iacebatin with a particularly large
core.” The boy flushed deep red as a number of predatory gazes fell on him from
his flanks, and female eyebrows rose all around the chamber. “Notice girls, if
your magic is developed enough that you can reach him from where you’re
sitting, that Neville’s core is a Relaxed sub-type, and his small control limit
makes it what we would call a Support-Core.”
She continued swiftly as the boy blushed further, and she didn’t need the
second sight to know that he was being probed all around. “His core is typical
of Iacebatin, as they generally do not bother to overpower females and
typically they attract a coven with acts of physical strength against each
other. Gregory, Goyle and Ronald, though not quite as powerful magically, are
still also fine examples of this variety of male for any of you girls who might
be interested.” She jibed them lightly, a grin on her lips as her wand alighted
in the direction of each boy in turn, and she allowed herself a chuckle as half
the girls in attendance blushed at the implication in sync with the boys
mentioned.
She switched her wand so it was pointed at Harry. “Mr. Potter on the other hand
is more-or-less a classic example of a Poneiuxta.” Harry held her gaze, and
then the boy seemed to make a point to meet the eyes of the girls that had
turned their attention to him with a relaxed glance that lasted until they
blushed and looked away, and she smiled at young Magi’s predictable antics.
“They are the most aggressive type of male in relation to their behavior
towards our fairer sex, and they are the ones who are most often to make
involuntary temporary bonds with females they decide are worthy to pursue for
their own.” She grinned again as a number of girls blushed fantastically, and
sat lower in their seats, as the boy gave the room another calm look, his core
grinding with minor annoyance at being put on the spot, but his control of his
emotions willing him to simply relax at the attention even as his twin’s core
started to boil. “The reason for this aggression is for reasons that are not
well understood, Poneiuxta are the most likely variety of the three types of
male to have Tyrant cores or other dominating core types, especially if they
are powerful.” She emphasized the power aspect with a wave of her hand.
Noting quietly, his rather controlled reaction so far, and remembering the
adjustments that had been made to the plan for this group the night before,
Molly decided that she would test the boy a bit more and so she pressed on
further. “For instance by the fact that your sister also happens to have a
Tyrant core type, I would guess that I would be correct at assuming the first
sexual experience you two shared was involuntary on her part?”
He didn’t even blink, despite the alarmed look that crossed the faces of
several of his female classmates, reflected by the excited squirming of an
equal number of other girls. “In all fairness, she deserved it…” Harry
explained to her calmly, crossing his arms and lobbing her with a very mild
look of annoyance as a couple of girls gave scandalized gasps, their cores
pulsing either in shock or surprised arousal.
He scowled lightly at the over-dramatic gasps from a few of the girls, Dior’s
being the most obviously fake, and at his twin’s haughty grin. Violet throwing
out her arms onto the backrest of the bench behind her and stretching out like
a cat beside him. “She was pissy because Trude washed her mouth out with soap
for assaulting one of the peasant girls….” He clarified, as the athletic little
redhead wiggled happily in her seat as he recounted the tale.
His twin crossed her arms. “He was being a baby, cause I kicked him in the
jewels.” Violet grinned widely as she interrupted her brother, a number of boys
not-so-subtly shifted away from her at her declaration. “So he decks me in the
stomach and things get fuzzy but the next thing I know I’m lying with my face
in the dirt, barely conscious, with cream leaking from my kitty like there’s a
bloody broken dam inside me.” She finished with a feral grin. “And I couldn’t
just let it go after all of that…”
Harry rolled his eyes at his sister. “And it got you absolutely nowhere, didn’t
it?” The boy mocked lightly.
A number of hands went up to cover their owner’s mouths for a variety of
reasons, as half the room flushed, Dior even subtly waving to Harry and licking
her lips at him when he turned to her direction for a moment. “Yes, thank you
Ms. Potter, for your rather graphic retelling of the event in question.” Molly
cut in on the pair’s recounting as Violet started to visibly notice the
reaction some of the other girls were having to their tale, so she interrupted
the now scowling girl before the redhead could start threatening the other
students in the middle of class, having already having been well briefed on
Violet’s behavior ahead of time. “As I am sure Esquire Tonks has already
explained, starting a fight with a boy and loosing can easily initiate a
Conquest Bond.” The sudden excited looks on a couple of the girls faces making
her chuckle again. “If you don’t think that would be for you, don’t go picking
fights with lads outside of Defense, especially if you don’t think you have a
very good chance of winning.”
She returned her focus to Violet’s freckled face, the young girl shooting
metaphorical lightning bolts at both Dior and Blaise. “That you challenged and
lost to your brother again as you have stated, and at least a few more times
after your initial sexual encounter. Which I can assume because your core tells
me that you lost at least most of those later incidents Ms. Potter, is how you
ended up with a second level conquest bond.”
The girl in question blinked out at her at the statement, visibly confused at
terminology she knew nothing about. “In the instance of this bond type, it
means that your core submits to his magic entirely, and it partially prevents
you from being compatible with other males. Naturally this makes it less likely
that another boy will even want to challenge your brother for you, as you would
never be able to accept them unless they were able to be even more dominating
as him.”
She continued with a gesture at the chalk continuing to scrawl more bullet
points in half a dozen different languages, fixing scraggly redhead with a
pointed look. “It’s also one of the primary reasons why you find yourself being
so aggressive towards other girls, as the depth of the bond subconsciously
makes you behave in an irrationally territorial manner to perceived threats, so
as to better monopolize your worthy partner.” She clarified, to the now gaping,
wide-eyed redhead.
Violet blinked repeatedly, looking almost visibly annoyed now that Molly had
explained the girl’s own condition to her. The girl gaping in a sort of
disbelieving resentment, as though she had awoken the girl suddenly from a very
deep sleep with a bucket of ice water, and not simply explained her reality to
her. “Again Ms. Potter, the basis of the Magi family unit is naturally the
coven. So being as territorial, as I have been informed you are by your
Esquires, goes strongly against what would be your normal set of instincts.”
They were both blushing now, Harry lightly, but Violet was flushed, frowning
and shooting suspicious and uncertain glances around the room with only her
eyes. The explanation seemed to be bothering the girl, probably having shaken
her sense of self a bit.
Considering what she had been told was the girl’s normal behavior though… that
was an unfortunate evil that someone had to perform. The school would see how
she developed from having this part of her personality agitated, and if was
deemed necessary, someone would have to continue to intervene.
Violet couldn’t be allowed to monopolize her brother; it would be an
unacceptable waste of potential that couldn’t be allowed.
Molly sighed quietly, noting the reaction of the room as a number of brows
furrowed or rose depending on the nature of the students they were attached to.
“But moving on, the third type of male is the Incubus, which comes in two
varieties, the non-functional and functional varieties, exemplified by Mr.
Malfoy and Ms. Zabini respectively. Incubus tend to be less consistently
interested in the fairer sex and are typically very effeminate themselves,
often to the point that functional Incubi can be easily mistaken for girls even
under relatively close scrutiny. It is because of that that functional Incubi
are usually referred to by females prefixes for the sake of simplicity,
especially as many of them have little interest in behaving as boy’s do
anyway…” Molly pursed her lips, raising an eyebrow annoyed question as a pair
of two foot tall fairies slid into the room through a pattern that painted
itself high up on the wall near the vaulted ceiling, alighted on iridescent
butterfly wings with a shared musical giggle for an instant as they set about
sprinkling the room with sparkling scales before popping out of sight with a
small flash of violet light.
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes as half the class raised their heads to
look for the source of the sound or the glittering dust that rained from the
ceiling, only to wrinkle their brows when they saw that the vaulted ceiling was
already empty. Hagrid and Xenophilius would have to be told about that, having
the creatures harass the students out of class was a necessary evil, but having
them disrupt lessons was simply unacceptable.
Tonks would be scorned as well… the ward set on new students at the signing was
meant to last them most of the first week at least, the fact that theirs seemed
to be failing before even noon of their very first real day at Hogwarts was an
issue worth raising to the clumsy teen.
In the meantime, she would have to get Bill to update her classroom’s wards, as
the pests had clearly found a way through them yet again.
But for now the matron had more pressing issues, such as the number of faces
turning fantastically red which told her immediately that it hadn’t just been
scales the mischievous little creatures had been sprinkling off of their wings…
which wasn’t good news.
“Everyone focus back up her please…” She pleaded to her students, all of whom
were now flushing fantastically, and most of them were showing obvious signs of
unnatural arousal. Several edging themselves closer to the students closest to
them, Padma and Parvati even kissing each other unashamedly in front of their
peers, with a skill and passion that implied that it was not the first time the
pair had done so.
This seemed to start a sort of chain reaction, and not a moment later half of
the class was groping or kissing at their nearest neighbor, and a number of the
girls were masturbating and staring past their surroundings with blank, empty
gazes.
Fortunately for her lesson, there was one thing that the Weasley’s were very
well known for, and that was their mastery of Fertility magic’s, and intimate
knowledge of sex magic was just part of that package.
It certainly was no mistake that Molly had had as many children as she did.
The scene did give her a bit of information on which of her students were
sexually active though, as a number of them were mostly unaffected by the
fairies’ attempt at drugging. Her daughter Rachel even gave her peers a
disdainful snort, before smacking Ron over the head for sneaking in a grope on
a pair of little blondes who were sitting next to them and were quite
distracted trying to see who could kiss the other harder.
She raised her wand, silently casting a spell. There was a loud popping noise,
and all of the dust in the air vanished, switched with the air in another part
of the castle.
Her arm waved and her wand flashed a spell across the room, immaterial webbing
shot from its tip and wrapped through her students, bringing the ones who
hadn’t already realized that their lusts were unnatural gently back to reality
as she wound them back down.
“Your attention please!” She demanded calmly before any of them had time to
really process what had just happened “Attention, everyone calm down, eyes up
here.” She spoke more loudly, in a voice that she knew was both motherly and
commanding. It worked on Fred and George; it would work on eleven-year olds.
“Now, that class was the effect of fairy magic.” She addressed them slowly;
careful in her explanation as they gave her confused looks and many of them
pointedly ignored their partners of only a few seconds ago. “Hagrid and
Xenophilius will be teaching you more about them tomorrow.” Molly continued,
with a wave of her hand to bring their focus fully back onto herself.
She already knew that that hadn’t been part of their lesson from tomorrow, but
she knew the two men would be easy enough to convince. And really, there were
more dangerous things in the castle for them to teach the children about than
Tullies and Tirids.
There was still a lot of blushing faces, though most were now in embarrassment
instead of arousal, and a number of them slid subtly away from their peers as
they eyed each other more warily.
“Everyone please focus, so we can get back into the lesson.” She added,
speaking loudly again to further focus their attention back to the podium,
making a silent flash of light with her wand to add emphasis.
“Now back to the subject at hand…” She continued as though she had never been
interrupted. “Incubi have powerful magic at their disposal, specifically when
used against females, but they tend to have the weakest cores of the three
varieties. This means that the focus of their power is usually siphoning magic,
drawing up sexual arousal, clouding their own presence from scrutiny or some
combination of the three.”
Padma raised her hand from where she was sitting. “Yes Ms. Patil?” She asked
the caramel-skinned girl warmly, always pleased at children showing initiative.
“There are two other’s that fall into that category, aren’t their?” The girl
responded a little smugly, the Hindu’s obvious foreknowledge of the subject
coming in clear even through her accent.
She nodded to the bright little Indian. “Here in Avalon, we do not consider
them part of the category of “Male”.” She explained to Padma, who nodded in
understanding. “But yes, as some of you might have already realized, there is
another group, usually just referred to in England as “Mixed” instead of male
or female. Your Esquire Tonks falls into the first one of the two varieties,
hers being called “Metamorphmagus”, which are noted for their ability to change
their appearance. Around, fifteen to twenty percent of Magi are able to learn
some level of the metamorphmagus ability usually just minor things like
changing their skin color, or the length or color of their hair at will, minor
things like that. Ms. Nymphadora is on the other end of this spectrum, and she
can change her form to almost any shape or appearance she could imagine.”
“As you can imagine, this allows her to take any sex, or any combination of
sexes, that she desires for any length of time.” She waved her wand and cleared
the blackboard, allowing the chalk to begin drawing rapid diagrams related to
Metamorhpagus shape-shifting abilities.
“The second type is related to the ability of your magic to adapt your physical
and metal landscape to your environment and your behavior.” She gave a quick
once over of the girls in class. “This category is referred to as
“Hermaphroditus”, and it is the rarest of all of the categories as getting into
it is mostly luck based. It specifically requires girls to intentionally
displaying more masculine behaviors before you first bond to a male. Then if
you are lucky, after a period of a few weeks or months your genitals may
undergo a partial transformation that will create a set of testicles and a
penis out of the clitoris and part of the inner skin of the vaginal lips.” The
new information scrawled itself across the blackboard quickly. “If any of you
girls are interested in this, it is important to note that if you bond to a
male or metamorphagus you would completely lose any chance you might have to be
able to do this. It should also be noted however, that you can still bond with
boys and even reproduce with them after the fact, as your vagina will still be
present behind your new testicles, though it will be partially atrophied.” She
finished, having intentionally used the medical terminology to reduce the
number of giggles from the children.
“The wide varieties of dimorphism are believed to be the long-term effect of
centuries of fertility potions and rituals of various types used to offset
various purges and genocides against Wizarding kind by various historical
empires, as well as the naturally lower birth rates that tended to be quite
typical in ancestral mages according to our historical records.” She continued
primly, setting them up for their future lesson with Binns.
“It may also have more than a little bit to do with various religious rituals
practiced in days of yore, but we’ll not be speaking of such things here…” She
trailed off as she planted the seed of inquiry in at least a few students, if
they wanted to learn more about that they would have to look into it
themselves.
She smiled at the thought as her eyes slid for an instant to the clock; she
still had twenty minutes left to give them a few pointers on basic etiquette.
“I think it’s about time to switch tracks here a bit, as we’re getting a little
late on time.” Molly added, smiling ironically as a number of children from
Wizarding families turned their attention back to her for a moment. “Let’s get
into some of the more general, non sex related subjects; we can continue with
coven and female dimorphism next time…”
                                        
                                       S
Hermione was hoping there was a little more meat in the next class.
Because while learning about the sexual dimorphism possible in Magi had been
embarrassing though certainly fascinating, it had been followed by almost
twenty minutes of little more than the more basic kind of Etiquette lessons
that she had been pretty much expecting from the get go…
Don’t be unkind to the castle servants regardless of what kind of servant they
were, don’t hassle slaves and servants that are not your own, respect older
students and other authority figures, don’t intentionally destroy things, no
fighting outside of areas reinforced to withstand potential damages, etc. etc.
etc…
As far as she was concerned, the only thing of any real substance after the
explanation on the various types of wizard had been when Professor Weasley had
described the point system at the very end. And while points were something she
was certainly interested in earning as many of as possible, there seemed to be
little much more to it than that they were used to determine which house a
First-Year would end up in, and who got the house cup at the end of the year.
At least she had been spared the humiliation doing any more than squeezing her
sister tight when the fairies had attacked them. Not that the rest of the class
had any decency, and she was fairly certain that Padma and Parvati had been
merely pretending to be under the magic’s effects…
Fortunately, the next class seemed like it would have a bit more… grit to it,
at least if the almost total change of scenery that had taken place between
their first class and this one.
After Professor Weasley had finished her lecture Tonks and the other Esquires
had returned. The professor had immediately pulled Tonks off to the side to
have a whispered conversation, which left Penny and Tai to lead them away to
their next class.
It had taken almost twenty minutes of walking through a labyrinth of decorated
hallways crowded with students and servants before they had come to the final
staircase, which itself had taken at least five minutes of tightly winding
descent before it had opened up to what was obviously their next classroom.
It was the polar opposite of Mrs. Weasley’s classroom, a dark and dimly lit
stone chamber, lorded over by the presence of the glowering elderly man seated
on a stool. He was sat just behind a circular indentation in the floor, which
appeared to be filled with something like multi-colored sand, ringed by a half-
circle of pillows set on the bare stone floor.
The man himself was definitely old and of a wild appearance, with withered grey
skin and a huge wild burst of white hair atop his head, only matched by an
untamed white beard sprouting from his face that curled madly in every
direction. Perched cross-legged as he was on his wooden stool, what looked to
be a bear-fur wrapped around his brilliantly colored and patterned tunic, he
gave off the feeling of someone halfway between madness and brilliance.
Both Penny and Tai brushed past them straight to the front of the group and
bowed at the waist, that their manner didn’t seem to contain even a hint of
disingenuousness certainly seemed to speak volumes about the importance of the
person before them.
“Go out Esquires, my lesson is about to begin.” He commanded in an unexpectedly
strong and deep voice as the pair rose from their bows, beckoning them both
with a sweep of a gnarled arm.
Hermione, positioned near the front of the group as she was, thought for an
instant that she might have seen a smirk flash across Tai’s Egyptian face as
the bald teen spun in place and vanished from view with Penny.
But before she had time to think about it the professor turned his attention to
them. “Well… are you going to all just stand there like a bunch of grotesques,
or are you going to take your seats so I can begin?” He demanded of them
sternly, raising a thickly bushy eyebrow high and revealing pure whiteness in
his gaze, showing his eyes to be without pupils of any sort.
Dior was actually the first to move out of their group, the willowy blonde
strutting out with a confidence that cloaked any intimidation or uncertainty
the taller girl might have been experiencing, taking a cross-legged seat on one
of the middle pillows directly in front of one of the tall candelabra’s
scattered about the stone chamber.
Well she certainly wasn’t going to let the blonde show her up, and she grabbed
Melody’s hand with a small frown, marching forward to the front row as everyone
else trickled to the pillows slightly behind her.
Hermione spared Melody a quick glance as her sister sat down on the stone next
to her pillow idly, wondering for a brief instant where her younger sister
might have gotten a cheese wedge from before Padma sat down onto the cushion
next to her with an excited grin and the thought was banished from her mind.
“Hmmmm…” The professor grumbled down at them. Glaring down with eyes that had
no right to be able to see anything, none the less the crowed of students
before him, and yet he stopped and looked at each student in their turn taking
what had to be almost a full minute before he finally spoke. “I am Lord Kexy
Roomthily, and I will be your instructor for Magical Studies this year.” He
explained more quietly than he had addressed them earlier, his face and voice
softening as he spoke. “The subject of my class is the minutiae of magic, how
it works, why it works, where it comes from, and why it does as it does.”  He
explained coolly. “We will not be learning any spells or curses in this class,
nothing as crude as simple wand waving, but that does not mean that you will
not learn magic in my class. Indeed we will be opening up your whole to a wide
variety of new experiences; experiences that will be more useful to you as any
spell or potion should you master them.”
He paused for a moment, studying them calmly. “Now tell me children; have any
of you any great depth of understanding in higher mathematics?”
Hermione swiftly raised her hand, noting immediately that she and Padma seemed
to be the only ones easily visible from their places front and center who were
doing so.
Lord Roomthily sighed loudly. “Well there go my hopes for an easy year.” He
muttered quietly to himself, then more loudly addressed them all again. “We’ll
I hope you are all ready for a quick lesson, because if you want to understand
today’s topic, you’ll need to understand a bit of geometry.”
His bony arm waved at the large sand filled indent in the stone floor, making
patterns swirl as though moved by an unfelt wind. “Tell me Hellen, what you
know of the work of Euclid…” he asked suddenly, prompting Hermione with a
pointed look.
Hermione swallowed thickly at the question, but answered with confidence. “He
is renowned as the Father of Elements and as the inventor of the logically
coherent mathematical framework that allowed mathematics to be easy to use and
easy to reference, including the system of rigorous mathematical proofs that
remains the basis of mathematics in the present day, despite the fact that over
twenty-two centuries have passed since his original works were penned.” She
finished nervously in one breath, drawing a deep breath in what she hoped was a
subtle manner.
“Good, very good, now Euclid has been renowned as the inventor of practical
mathematics, and today we are going to dabble into a little bit of his work so
that I might begin to explain to you all at a later date how cores function in
relation to magic and the world as whole, which in turn relates to how Hogwarts
can do the things it can do architecturally, and where you’re Esquires keep
going when they disappear.” He spoke quickly, a small grin blooming below his
white mustache. “Allow me to demonstrate.”
Hermione blinked, not quite understanding how those subjects could possibly be
related, but as Lord Roomthily waved his hand again things began to take shape
in her mind.
The colorful sand swirled, until only a red line was left in a pale white bowl.
“Behold the line, the first dimension of space in which all existence is only
left and right motions, nothing but forward and backwards along its length.”
The sand shifted again, shortening and bending the red line until it snapped
into a red arrow, which spawned a blue arrow at a ninety degree angle from the
red one. “Now if we want to move in another direction we must insert back and
forth, by adjoining a dimension that is at a ninety degree angle from left and
right.”
Lord Roomthily reached into a fold in his clothing, withdrawing a pipe and a
small sack. He swiftly withdrew a pinch of something grey and fleshy and
stuffed it into the pipe, snapping his fingers after replacing the sack to
create a lit flame above his index finger that he used to light whatever he had
packed the bowl with. “Now,” he said as he took a deep draw, exhaling a large
cloud of impossibly geometric purple smoke through his nose, “this is the world
closest to the basic mathematics of Euclid. A flat-land of two dimensional
shapes, squares circles, hexagons, whatever else have you, all existing on a
flat two dimensional plain.” Alongside the arrows, there now appeared a bevy of
two-dimensional colored shapes of various types as he spoke, scurrying back and
forth across the white sands frantically as he took another draw from the pipe.
“We however, cannot exist in only two dimensions…” He paused for a moment,
visibly gauging the class with his sightless eyes. “Ms. Li, how shall we
rectify this most vexing conundrum and explain our own apparent existence?” He
probed, snapping Hermione out of her information absorbing trance to crane her
neck looking for the person called upon.
A tiny pale little girl, obviously from Sinae or somewhere of close kindred,
answered him after sweeping her coal-black hair from her ever-squinted eyes.
“Add another D-” she frowned and cut her thickly accented answer off,
whispering heatedly to what Hermione assumed must have been the girl’s own
Tully before resuming. “Add a dimension at ninety degrees to the first two…?”
She replied again, with a hint of uncertainty in her voice.
Their bearded instructor hummed in approval. “Indeed.” He grumbled deeply,
motioning again to the sands, as the colored arrows squirmed and writhed in
defiance, before a third green arrow snapped up out of the sand. Not as a flat
two dimensional shape, but a thin cylinder of dust with a sharp geometrical
arrowhead atop it, pointing towards the low stone ceiling.
Then in an instant half of the shapes in the ‘pool’ of sand seemed to ripple
before suddenly popping up out of the dust as fully formed three-dimensional
versions of their previous shapes.
“This is the third dimension, the dimension of the physical, and what is
referred to as regular space. Note that by simply utilizing another already
present dimension, we have at each step added another layer of complexity, now
we can create what we could not before as limited as we were by the constraints
of two dimensional space.” Lord Roomthily added with a deep draw from his pipe,
blowing another huge cloud of purple smoke across the entire chamber as he
exhaled through his mouth. “As well as observe and experience a whole greater
level of detail that was previously denied to us wholly in the second
dimension.”
“Now children, take a deep breath and allow me show to you something greater…”
He added cryptically, reaching out an arm, and summoning an organically smooth
crystalline staff from the dark recesses of the room.
He simply tapped the edge of the sandpit with the butt of the staff and a razor
thin plane of white sand rose into the air, a loose half-transparent circle of
glimmering motes inhabited by the still flat half of the shapes that had
appeared earlier. Colorful shapes which were still carrying about their
scurrying heedless of the fact that they were now floating above the ground on
a plain tilted at about thirty degrees.
“Now to the humble denizens of the two dimensional world, nothing from their
perspective has changed despite my action of lifting their plane of existence,
as they can only sense back and forth and left and right and only see their
entire world as a single flat line in any direction they turn to infinity. Only
the colors of the other shapes allow them to distinguish each other from the
flat expanse of the plane itself.”
He reached out another gnarled hand, puffing the pipe clenched between his
teeth, and a blue ball of sand rose from the pit and into the air. “Now imagine
what the modest little square near the edge here must see as I pass the sphere
I have here through the plane.” His hand moved slowly, edging the sphere
through the sand at a sedate pace until it had passed through entirely to the
other side. “From the square’s perspective he has just seen a blue point appear
in unoccupied space from nowhere, expand into a large circle and then contract
back into a point then vanish from his view entirely, this applies to any
three-dimensional shape that we might pass through the plane.” He said with a
grin, and something snapped together inside Hermione’s brain.
“That’s it!” She found herself shouting indignantly to herself in Greek before
she even knew what she was doing. Lord Roomthily raised an inquisitive eyebrow
at her, a look of cool questioning on his wrinkled face, most likely with much
less worrying about her sanity than the looks most of the rest of the rooms
occupants were most certainly throwing her way.
She didn’t care about them right now. Hermione finally had the answer to what
in God’s name was wrong with everything around her, and that was all the succor
she needed at the moment.
“There is an extra spatial dimension parallel to the third!” She said,
distracted entirely from the room around her now, still speaking to herself in
swift Greek. “That’s why there’s all this abominable shape-changing
architecture!” It showed how distracted the revelation had gotten her that she
didn’t realize she was being so loud until after Lord Roomthily’s magic pulled
her back down into reality with a crisp but amused feeling grasp.
She had been literally sparking, she realized as she saw the glow reflected in
the sand before she slammed it down, caught uncertain as to whether that or her
interruption filled her with more mortification.
Her gaze snapped past the sand-pit, expecting to see the old man glowering down
at her with the intensity he had displayed earlier.
Instead he was grinning slightly, a sort of ironic look on his wrinkled visage.
“Well, aren’t you the excitable one, hmm?” He chuckled, taking another deep
draw from his pipe and blowing yet another cloud of purple smoke. “At attention
lads, now you know one of the things that makes this lass tick.” He joked
lightheartedly, bringing a few light chuckles and a spring of blushes from half
the boys in the room. Which was embarrassing, but at least it wasn’t the
shocked and disbelieving looks of only a second ago.
She would have kept thinking about how she had probably just humiliated herself
in front of the entire class, with her thoughts swirling wildly. Fortunately
for her standing, the purple smoke clouds their teacher had been blowing out
had finally slid sinuously into their space and she was breathing quite quickly
already from her little rant, which only meant that the half-panic she had been
experiencing helped draw the vapor into her lungs even more swiftly.
Sparks immediately blinked into existence in the edges of her vision, little
glimmering motes of unlight that flickered and popped in and out of view as
though emerging and then hiding themselves behind an invisible veil.
It was the smoke, she realized as her vision began to tunnel, the edges
darkening and expanding into something new at once. Whatever he had put into
the pipe was more than just common tobacco, it was something deeper. The
connection came swiftly after that thought, his lesson clicking solidly with
the unnatural twisting of reality around her.
“So I see children, the fungus is finally having its effect. “ He spoke in a
pleased whisper, which seemed to distort strangely as her mind registered the
words. “Breathe deeply, so we can continue out lesson.”
Hermione’s lungs worked in the smoke with deep breaths without her prompting,
and she was suddenly aware of shimmering things, shapes and things that were
more than shapes seemingly becoming barely visible just beyond the edge of her
vision, like she was seeing all around herself. “Left and right, back and
forth, up and down… tell me children, what comes next?”  Roomthily’s voice
echoed playfully from the void.
The whole room was fuzzy, indistinct, and glimmering with strange half-hidden
things, but Hermione noticed that her magic felt firm, unbothered by the
changes in her other senses. No… that wasn’t right, it was simply becoming more
clear to her what was out there… what existed on the other side of… in and out…
Ana and Kata.
Then, she felt a tremendous wave of insight hit her and the urge to shout
“Eureka!” became almost overwhelming as the veil passed her by with the force
of a gale wind, and she understood what the Lord had meant when he had told Tai
and Penny to go out.
It was like a dam had burst in her mind with a variety of hidden colors,
suddenly she could see it all. Tai and Penny were ‘out’, but they hadn’t even
left the room, merely gone to a part of it she had been unable to sense
properly before. Now they stood tall, safely protected by shimmering bubbles of
protective magic which distorted the hyperspace around them, both flanking the
dense and smoky geometric thunderhead of flat blinking eyes that she quickly
realized could be none other than Lord Roomthily’s magic core visible to her
new senses thanks to whatever sorcery was to be found in the mushroom smoke.
She could see other things now too, like the insides of the castles walls and
the organs of people near her, but they were dim and half-real compared to the
new sight she had found.
Magic was the substance of this place, the new dimension she had poked her
vision into through the effect of whatever Roomthily had been smoking, and in
this place she could see it, and see it clearly.
There were the cores of her varying classmates, the glowing little presences of
the Tully’s flickering by a few of them from foreign lands, each and all of
them appearing distinctly different from one another, but there were other
things too… the sorts of things that had doubtlessly been the subject of some
fiery sermon she had heard in her life back in Constantinople, even if she
didn’t remember the details now.
Undulating wisps of half-clouds of magic rippled through the aether, hurriedly
chasing congeries of bubbles through no longer solid walls, or past the event
horizons of swirling whirlpools of crackling colors she had never seen before.
Cubes, which exploded into impossible shapes on vertices the would have never
dreamed of shape-shifted past her as their many faces rippled like light cast
on the surface of a soap bubble. Crowding around stranger things which seemed
only half-real that she could never hope to identify.
Then in an instant her greedy eye opened itself too wide, and the strain on her
untested mind was simply too much, and her vision slipped into shadow and the
darkness flung her into its gentle embrace.
                                       S
Tonks had sent Penny and Tai to take the First-Years to lunch, while again she
had more pressing issues to attend to.
So as she stared slightly down into the cataract eyes of Lord Roomthily, the
bearded archmage smiling a slightly cheekily smile beneath his wild white beard
as he puffed his mind-opening mushrooms. “Fifteen mostly unaffected, thirty
experiencing mild symptoms of pineal awakening, with-”
“Twenty passed out entirely from sensorial overload.” She finished for him,
more than a little put out that he would choose this as his first lesson. The
First-Years were proving to be enough trouble without being drugged up on
hallucinogens this early in the day.
“Indeed, they show a great deal of promise.” He opined calmly, if not a little
smugly. “But I feel it is of greater importance to note that the signing ward
around your half of the party seems to have almost entirely fallen Nymphadora,
and that is degrading the ward of the second party’s at an alarming rate.”
That got a sigh out of her, and she resisted the urge to correct him on her
name. “Yeah I’ve been informed; Mrs. Weasley already had an incident with a
couple of fairies during their first class.” She gave the old Lord a
scrutinizing eye, recalling easily the second sight the man was so famous for.
“Do you have any idea what might be causing it?”
He nodded sharply. “It seems that the little Helen is infected with a mana
parasite.” He informed her. “Nothing that would be too dangerous, but its
leeching affect seems to have drained the ward down, it isn’t that important as
the signing ward is only supposed to last for a week or so anyways but it is
still an issue that will need to be resolved at some point.”
Her brow crinkled at his wording. “It’s on Melody?” She asked quickly, more
perplexed than anything else. “She doesn’t even have a proper core; she’s just
her sisters bonded serva-” Tonks cut herself off. “It’s been feeding on
Hermione’s magic since before she even left Byzantium, hasn’t it.”
Kexy blew a geometric burst of smoke from his nostrils. “Indeed I would not
doubt it, I was surprised you hadn’t noticed it earlier though, but I suppose
your own proclivities had you sufficiently distracted… Three on the first
night, I think that must be a new record for you, isn’t it Nymphadora?” He
revealed smugly, wiggling his bushy eyebrows at her.
“I- that’s-” But he cut her off before she could continue stuttering.
“Three girls who were obviously bloated with your magic, for reasons I trust
were at least tangentially related to your actual job?” He chuckled at her,
raising a thick and bushy white eyebrow up and gazing above the stairway up’s
threshold. “One of whom is currently waiting on you for what I would assume to
be a second helping.”
She blinked, blushing very lightly at the conversations sudden change in
direction. “Dior?” She probed him, unable to see through that much warding and
stone without delving far deeper into her own magic, but already strongly
suspecting that she had the right guess.
And she was spot on. “I should think the latest Malfoy girl might be a tad
spoiled if you ask me.” The old lord lectured to no one in particular as the
candles across the room went out with a gust of unfelt wind, leaving only the
lanterns by the stairway behind her lit.
Lord Kexy Roomthily grinned and spun on his heels, wandering confidently into
the darkness, needing nothing as quaint as mortal light to see his path.
“Monitor the infected child Tonks,” he commanded her from the shadows, “a
parasite such as that should have had no place to exist in Byzantium… I believe
that there is more to this story than we yet know.”
Tonks blinked at the wall of darkness as he faded from view entirely. He hadn’t
dismissed her, at least not properly, but she supposed that she had orders… and
a blonde energy leech waiting for her at the top of the stairs.
She could have taken the stairs slowly, going over the various possible reasons
the still half-drugged little blonde might have been waiting for her.
That would have been the responsible thing to do, and unfortunately Tonks had
used all her responsibility up dealing with Hermione earlier.
Launching herself up the winding staircase with a burst of magic and a gust of
displaced air, stopping just in time to narrowly avoid tripping over the last
stair which raised itself to prevent students from just bursting into the
hallway at full speed, she was alerted to Dior’s location the instant she
exited the threshold by the coltish waif’s startled yelp as the rush of air
followed her up the stairs and out into the hallway.
“Look what we have here…” She teased down to her fallen cousin as she stepped
out of the staircase, the blonde having obviously been standing too close to
the passageway for her own good. 
The First-Year was less amused, shooting her a half-glassy glare as she pulled
herself up from the ground. “Co- could have stopped earlier.” Dior admonished
her drunkenly still swaying a little unsteadily as she stood to her, slightly
above average for her age, height, still presumably a good bit doped up from
Kexy’s mushrooms.
Tonk’s let a catty grin cross her lips as she looked down at the shorter girl.
“But if I had stopped earlier it wouldn’t have been a surprise.” She teased the
little Malfoy playfully.
The glare coming her way doubled and she just grinned wider in response.
“Anyways, I presume that you had a reason to skip your meal waiting for me?”
She probed the scowling girl bluntly. “Or did you just miss hanging out with
your big sissy Tonks?” She asked, giving Dior’s cheeks a squeeze.
Dior pulled back in annoyance and swayed a little, and then abruptly her face
softened heavily as she fell into Tonks’s surprised arms. “Hungry…” Was her
young cousins muffled response, which emanated up from between the teenagers
breasts as the girl nuzzled at them in a sudden but obvious daze.
“I would have suggested actually going to lunch then.” She shot down a little
smugly, amused by the normally arrogant younger girl’s abnormally subdued
behavior and already understanding that she wanted something other than
material food.
“No-I…” The blonde responded obliviously to her own obliviousness, Tonks
feeling her quiet voice in her breasts as much as she heard it with her ears.
“I need a secret.” She finally whispered, wrapping her arms around Tonks’s
waist affectionately as she limped against her taller body.
That connected the dots immediately for the teen. “You nervous that Hermione
might give you a shock down the road, a little payback maybe?” She responded
shrewdly to the blonde, idly fingering one of the girl’s braids. “If you’re
looking for something to tide her over, it’ll have to be pretty juicy, she was
not pleased after the embarrassment you two put her through.”
She felt the change in the girl’s demeanor though her magic before anything had
changed visibly. “Aaaarrrgg!” Dior snarled into her chest, pulling slightly
back in abrupt frustration. “It was fucking perfect Tonks!” She bemoaned
dazedly. “We HAD her!”  The blonde explained, stomping a slender leg petulantly
as she ran a free hand over her crinkled brow. “She was drained, her defenses
were down, and if I had gotten one more bloody minute I could have gotten a
temporary bond on her. Just one nip and I would have had my position secured…
we would have had her melting in our hands in seconds.”
It was then, exactly as Tonks had suspected of her. The aristocratic girl had
been looking to fill the holes in her weaker parasitic core type by snatching
up a powerful rival early on. “I suppose that’s was true until Violet let
herself in to the equation… speaking of which I would think you would be more
worried about sating her than Hermione, she has a much harsher temper for
things like this from what I’ve seen so far.”
And alarm bells started ringing in the teen’s head as soon as she finished that
sentence, a sly grin crossing Dior’s punch-drunk features. “Firecrotch was
almost too easy to deal with,” the eleven-year old admitted in a quietly
pleased tone of voice, “too obsessed with her brother for her own good.” She
whispered up the front of Tonks’s yellow robe conspiratorially. “You left
Blaise down with us girls and I just happened to let slip which tent my brother
was sleeping in…” the blonde elaborated with a wicked little grin.
“I figure that’ll keep her distracted long enough to forget I was ever
involved.” She finished, pressing her face back into Tonks’s stomach a little
tiredly.
It was quite a devious strategy, though Tonks wasn’t about to just out and
admit that to the preteen. On the other hand though, there were quite a few
ways that it could backfire spectacularly if things didn’t go just so.
But before she could voice any possible advice, Dior escalated the situation by
sliding her slender little hand between the folds of Tonks’s robe to clasp at
her half-hard member.
Clearly she wanted to earn herself something worthy of satisfying her Helen
rival, and she wanted it now.
“Shit, impatient much?” She hissed down to Dior, grabbing the girl by the
shoulders and drawing them both back into a fold that opened up in the wall
behind her with a pulse of her magic, folding it as far over them as she could
before casting a small glamour with a flick of her free hand to further obscure
them. It wouldn’t fool a determined observer, but they would be hidden well
enough from passing glances. Not that there was likely to be too many people
out and about this far into the citadel during lunch time, but it never hurt to
hedge your bets.
With that accomplished, she moved to grip Dior’s braids as the girl fell into a
kneeling position at her feet. “Oh my little speck of gold, you must be
famished…” She ribbed her cousin with a tone that was only slightly mocking,
enjoying the way the girl groaned lustily into her robe despite any former
pretenses the blonde might have had in more public settings.
Whoever bonded Dior was in for a treat as far as Tonks was concerned, provided
they could keep up with the her libido behind closed doors…
As she pulled the blonde’s head back, the look in the younger girl’s eyes
betrayed her mental state easily. Dior had fallen into a compulsion all on her
own, and the second Tonks pulled her face away from the warm crotch of her robe
the girl’s magic flashed forward, drawing against her own with an icy chill as
she greedily drew power off her larger core.
“You know if you wanted to trade for information, I’m supposed to get something
out of this too, right?” Tonks asked the younger girl rhetorically, already
knowing that in the state she was in at the moment, drugged up on mushrooms and
magic, that the eleven-year old wouldn’t hear her.
Instead Dior’s slender face shot beneath the gap her hand had opened in her now
disordered robe, making her gasp as the girl took the front of her hardening
shaft into her mouth of her own volition.  Her breath hissed between her
clenched teeth as her cousin slathered her slender little tongue along the
underside of her hardening length, licking and sucking lightly as magic flowed
quickly between them.
It was much the same treatment that she had demanded last night, but deep
inside the teen knew she could get more.
Her hands reached down and gripped at both of the girl’s twin braids on
impulse, a positively wicked idea forming in her head as she struggled slightly
to keep her own thoughts ordered enough to do what she was about to do
properly.
It was with a whimper of confusion that found Dior with a much slimmer length
of “manhood” grasped between her lips, the underside of the hard shaft between
her lips literally shrinking until her parted lips were easily able to fit
halfway around it. A voice deep inside her head instantly jumped to alert,
maybe realizing just what was about to happen before her magic or subconscious
did. However, it was far too late to do anything about it, and only her
conscious mind was even slightly worried about what might have been about to
transpire.
The slender fingers clenched themselves around her twin braids and pulled her
back for what felt like the umpteenth time, the voice of her compulsion only
reflecting waves on unsatisfied and frustrated greed back into her mind. Barely
aware of Tonks’s throaty voice above her giving her the order to “open wide”,
except to obey the wellspring of magic currently in a position of power and
control above her.
Her lips parted numbly, and her brain paused as Tonks’s robe slid fully open
and she found herself starring down the full length of the teen’s spear as the
fat head was rested on the tip of her limply outstretched tongue.
It was at this point that even her ever greedy magic seemed to understand just
what was about to happen to them, as the helmeted head of the much thinned
battering ram slipped just barely between her lips.
There was a whisper above her, echoing from someplace that in that instant felt
very far away as sparks from before danced anew in the corners of her vision.
The words “I hope she doesn’t puke…” whispered in an under the breath mutter,
sliding quiet and sinuous across her mind’s eye.
Then the well rounded hips that seemed miles away from where the helmet rested
just past her stretched lips rammed forward with a harsh jerk, and in the space
of a time she couldn’t even measure as drugged up as she was, the head slammed
hard into the opening of her throat and came crashing hard against her tonsils
in a single smooth motion.
She gagged immediately of course, despite the burst of sick pleasure that had
one of her hands sliding instinctively under her own robe to grind against her
legging coated sex, instantly choking on the tip of the head as it was suddenly
forced into her unprepared throat.
Her mind seemed to click as sick pleasure mixed with the urge to gag, her
vision flashing as her magic hissed and cracked icily beneath the oceanic
weight of the core enveloping her in its power. Like the night before, it came
with the urge to service and to feed, but now she was the sole recipient of the
entirety of the power and it simply overwhelmed her like a wisp of smoke in a
hurricane.
Her magic soared as the musky scents of iron and salt enveloped her sense of
smell and heightened the pleasure bursting in rolling waves up from between her
slender thighs, elated with each fresh wave of foreign power that splashed down
from on high, and grappling out with frenzied tendrils to absorb at everything
it could. Her body on the other hand, other than her actual free hand, was
still mid retch when the tip of the helmet freed itself from the entrance to
her throat with a pop that echoed audibly through the inside of her skull.
Tonks moaned loudly somewhere high above her, and the shaft which had slid back
to her lips in the space of less than a second slammed back into her mouth even
harder than before, and a subtly smaller helmet managed to lodge itself fully
halfway into the entrance of her throat with the second thrust.
This time her entire body shook with the force of her gagging, as orgasmic
stars burst up from her crotch to cloud her vision a hazy red, her arms lashed
out to instinctively to push against the knees in front of her, and she had to
physically will her body back under control with the moment of clarity bought
by the magic her core had stolen so voraciously to prevent herself from pushing
the teens knees away a second time.
All at once she was suddenly close to herself again, still held powerfully
under the powerful compulsion that had her hand rubbing furiously between her
legs, but at long last the influence of the drug was completely banished from
her mind.
Now she was wholly back in the physical, her magic’s obsession with glutting
itself notwithstanding, and now she was able to fully reciprocate the
teenager’s intentions as she masturbated her own swollen sex. The corners of
her stretched lips quirked as far upwards as they could get as she increased
her suction, slathering her tongue along the head of the Tonks’s shaft, making
the teenager moan whorishly and curse a variety of deities. 
“That’s it; I ain’t going easy on you from her on out cuz!” The shape-shifter
warned her sternly, glaring down into her upturned eyes with an absolutely
wicked grin that Dior didn’t quite comprehend. “You’re gonna earn a secret
today alright.”
And with that warning Tonks gripped her braids tighter, pulling at her golden
hair and straightening her head out level as she violently rammed her shaft
forward for the third time, and this time the now perfectly adjusted helmet
slid entirely past the opening of her throat with the rest of the eight-inch
shaft following quickly behind.
Dior didn’t’ gag this time when the shaft stopped a good bit over halfway into
the vice of her throat, with its flared helmet lodged in the very base of her
neck, drooling precum that sent bursts of hot warmth emanating from just above
the bones of her clavicle and fresh wetness dripping down her legs. She did
choke though, and had to resist the urge to add her piss to the slickness that
drooled freely from the wedge of flesh nestled  between her slender legs,
trembling uncontrollably at the stretched sensation of the inside of her neck.
Her body jerking hard enough that she felt her knees scrape themselves harshly
against the stone floor.
“Alright slut, here it comes!” Was the harshly whispered warning from Tonks as
the teenager withdrew the shaft from her slender neck, a wave of saliva
following it out and exploding out from around where the helmet had stopped at
the back of her lips, wetting the front of her silk tunic as her spit dripped
rapidly down her chin.
This was followed immediately with another powerful thrust, and she felt her
throat distend even further as Tonks’s helmet came to rest somewhere that felt
like it was below her clavicle but just above her sternum, but this time there
was not time to process what was happening as the teenager’s grip on her hair
tightened and she began slamming herself into Dior’s throat with all of her
strength as fast as she could go.
Tonks could have lasted longer if she had tried, she could have easily drawn
this little session out, but seeing how good she was at popping throats wasn’t
the point of this little transaction. So it was with little hesitance that she
decided to simply rut into the First-Years face, she had gone through the
trouble to adjust herself to safely fit for just that purpose anyways, and she
figured she would just enjoy herself for the moment.
Besides, was going to get chewed out for this by Penny later regardless of how
long she lasted.
So it was with a throaty moan only about a minute later that she gave in to the
rising tide of her orgasm, feeling her sack draw up close to the junction of
her thighs as she slammed home completely in her little cousin’s deliciously
tight throat for the first time in the entire session.
Dior’s suction on her shaft stopped abruptly as the end of her cock slid
somewhere deep inside the girl she had not touched before. Her slender frame
shaking again as she gagged hard enough that Tonks would have normally been
worried, but instead it only prompted her to grab the back of the blonde’s head
fully and pull her lips flush with her pubic mound, nuzzling the girls nose
into the wild patch of tangled purple hairs that lay just above the base of her
shaft.
The she came.
It was like a volt of lightning bursting from her groin, spreading a sort of
painful pleasure steadily until her entire frame was shivering wildly and she
was biting her lip bloody to keep from moaning like a cheap whore. Semen surged
down her shaft, exploding somewhere in Dior’s chest and prompting another round
of desperate gagging from the girl as the blonde drooled out helplessly from
where her lips were sealed against Tonks’s groin, and the waves of cum kept
coming and coming because she kept coming and coming…
By the time she had finally recovered her wits she was leaning hard against the
wall behind her, Dior’s limp form flopped helplessly in front of her only held
on to her groin by the intense grip she had in the back of the blonde’s head,
the girl obviously having been dragged along several feet by her head during
her orgasm. There was no suction on her penis now that her orgasm was finished,
just the languid working of the eleven-year olds throat; the waifish blonde’s
blue eyes rolled more than half up into their sockets in oxygen depleted
delirium.
Having finished cumming after what had to have been nearly thirty or forty
seconds, the pleasure burned against her sensitive flesh so deliciously that
she was loath to lose it, already feeling another peak building as she ground
Dior’s face against her pelvis.
However, the effect of the lack of oxygen was undeniable on her younger cousin,
and as Tonks watched her eyes rolled back completely into her head. The blonde
was red-faced, and drooling uncontrollably as her slender little body twitched
every few seconds.
She gently released her grip on the smaller girls head but she got no reaction
besides a particularly hard twitch in the girl’s slender legs as the girl
started peeing herself, so with a bit of hesitation she gripped Dior by the
sides of her head and withdrew herself in a slow smooth motion.
The instant the head of her cock popped free from the back of the girls throat,
a literal explosion of silvery semen followed it, the first of it bursting in
twin streams from her aristocratically upturned nose before she was halfway out
of the girls mouth, which prompted enough life back into the blonde for her to
pull back off of Tonks’s member all on her own to vomit at least a cup’s worth
of the stuff into the puddle of saliva, girl cum, and pee on the stone
flagstones.
Tonks ran a hand over her sweaty purple bangs, resisting the dark urge to take
the girl’s throat again as her shivering younger cousin tried to figure out how
to stop pissing all over herself, stop vomiting up her cum and breathe all at
the same time. Then Dior trembled so hard that she fell backwards and succeeded
in splattering the entire front of her black tunic with the second great splash
of milky vomited semen.
Fortunately the rest of her gift stayed in the girl’s stomach, though she was
still bent over cramping with a hand gripping her belly, allowing the blonde to
take a series of great heaving breaths desperate for air after nearly two full
minutes of having her mouth and throat abused like she was a sex slave.
By the time Dior was done gasping for breath Tonks was almost painfully hard
again, but she had already taken what she had been promised, so she simply
righted her own clothes with a quick flick of her hand, cocooning away her
erection behind her robe and cloak.
She could always find Penny or one of her other girl’s later anyways.
Dior righted herself slightly upright as Tonks’s cloak slid shut, drawing
herself up on scuffed knees to gaze up at her a little heatedly, though it was
visibly obvious the look on her face that the girl had cum herself, probably
more than once. Her cute cousin was still red-faced and breathing heavily, but
not as desperately as before.
Before the blonde could say anything she leaned down to the girl, nuzzling her
nose against the blonde’s wet cheek so she could whisper into her ear. “You
wanted a secret, I‘ll give you a secret worthy of Granger’s attention…” She
murmured slyly, taking a second to allow tension to build.
“The Chamber of Secrets is real.” She hissed quietly, noting how Dior’s breath
hitched at the revelation, before she spun swiftly and banished magic she had
placed down earlier.
“And I believe you are very late for lunch…” She finished as though nothing at
all had happened, cleaning the floor and the girl with a single cleaning spell,
and noting with another grin how Dior blushed fantastically and gripped at her
stomach again at the mere mention of putting anything else inside it.
                                       S
Considering how alternately boring or annoying today had been so far, Violet
was considering their next class a major improvement over the first two.
It had taken them a long walk from the main citadel where their first two
classes had been, deep in the center of the castle, out past the innermost wall
where their dorms were located and onto the second wall.
Now she sat next to her brother, her freckled legs dangling freely over the
edge of the climbing wall they were currently at the summit of. A sheer hundred
feet of wooden boards angled various ways, with fittings of caoutchouc
handholds arranged at every few feet to make climbing the thing possible at
all.
She and her twin by the gift of their slight but muscular frames, had managed
to climb to the top in under a minute, which had prompted her to ask the rather
roguish looking man who stood grinning at the very top what would happen to
anyone who fell off.
That a cushioning charm was in place to break any falls had prompted her to
jump over the edge, intentionally missing where Blaise and Draco were
struggling up by only about a foot.
Draco, having not noticed her jump, had let go of his handholds in shock when
the wind-shear of her fall had passed so close behind him. By the time he had
hit the invisible cushion at the bottom and rearranged himself to yell at her
she had already been nearly halfway back up, cackling to herself the entire
climb.
Reaching the top for the second time, to Harry rolling his eyes at her, she had
again asked the now rakishly grinning man who introduced himself as Sirius, if
she was allowed to knock the other students off the wall.
He had informed her with the same shit-eating grin that was plastered across
her lips, that she while she was not allowed to hit them herself, that close
misses didn’t count as they would have to be the ones to let go themselves.
The twenty minutes of harassing her classmates that had followed had left her
coated in a sheen of sweat thick enough to plaster her normally puffy mane of
hair to her head and beaming from ear to ear, though she never did manage to
knock Blaise off the wall. By the time she had gotten bored with the activity
she found herself mostly over her annoyance of that morning and even her
boredom at their first classes anyways.
She still wasn’t sure what they had been trying to accomplish in the bearded
man’s class, but she only knew that it had left her confused and obnoxiously
dizzy.
This was how she had come to her present situation, watching most of her peers
fail.
“You can do it Suzan!” The weird ember toting blonde from two days earlier
cheered on a slightly pudgy girl with long but straight red hair.
The tan skinned boy just slightly above them was less enthusiastic of Suzan’s
chances. “Maybe if you didn’t eat so many pastries at breakfast you could climb
easier!” He shouted slightly down to the pair in annoyance, sweat visible on
his brow even from as far above them as she was.
Personally, with the violent way his gangly arms were shaking, Violet didn’t
think he had a lot of room to talk about physical fitness. Suzan however, took
another interpretation to the comment. “They were worth it!” She shouted
shrilly, lunging upwards and barely catching onto the handhold above her.
“Maybe,” a calm male voice spoke behind her, “starting them on the wall was
just a bit much for their first day.”
Violet turned, along with the dozen other students who had managed to make it
to the top of the wall despite her best efforts.
Another more mousy looking man had arrived from the hallway behind them, he was
thin and much more clean-shaven unlike Sirius who sported a goatee, and was
wearing very plain and simple grey robes unlike Sirius’s black and gold.
“Come on Moony…” Sirius answered with a carefree grin. “If we don’t start their
physical training somewhere I’ll be left with nothing to do later.” He shot
back.
The aforementioned Moony gave the other man a withering look. “As much fun as I
am sure you’re having here, we did have a lesson planned for today, one that
can only happen if they actually reach the classroom before the period ends.”
Sirius, who at this time Violet was decently sure was a professor, merely gave
a laugh. “I suppose you’re right about that one. Harold will skin us both if he
doesn’t get to show off his axe, the bloody maniac.” He finished good
naturedly, walking up to the edge of the wall and drawing a thin wooden wand
from his robe.
“Accio!” He shouted to the tune of several dozen shouts from below him. The
students on the wall suddenly found themselves hurtling up into the top of the
hallway, wide eyed and still screaming as Moony muttered something behind her.
The remainder of the group hit just above the surface of the floor, bouncing up
slightly on the cushioning charm cast by the second man.
Once all the panicked squawking and blustering had been finished they were
formally introduced to the pair. Sirius Black, with his shaggy black hair and
roguish goatee, was to be their athletics and practical magical combat
instructor for the semester. While “Moony” who was actually named Remus Lupin,
had been assigned their instructor in defense theory.
It was only after they were led down the hallway that they met their third
teacher, a rather stout, though obviously Nordic man, by the name of Harold of
Den.
The fact that Harold was polishing a very visible Norman axe as they were
introduced to him spoke volumes about what he would be teaching them even
before they were told that he was to be their arms instructor.
A thrill ran through her as she took in the new classroom, the entire far wall
was absolutely crusted with hundreds and hundreds of weapons. Swords in every
style, maces and axes of a variety of designs and spears and glaives in
varieties she didn’t even recognize, and seemingly everything in between.
“This is it?” Harold asked Sirius a little derisively, raising an eyebrow at
the black-haired man questioningly as he took in the flushed, gasping, and
sweat soaked forms of their group. “All exhausted after that little climb?”
Lupin cut in before Sirius could reply. “In fairness, Violet spent most of the
past twenty minutes making it harder for the rest of them.”
Harold frowned, shooting the roguish Black a glare, which he switched to her
for a second before setting down the axe on a nearby table. “Sounds like
someone wants to run laps?”
Violet gave the man nothing, snapping into a sharp roman salute with a grin
while her brother groaned behind her.
Harold rolled his eyes at her as Sirius snickered.
“Right, first thing on the agenda today is to get you all practicing the three
basic spells for magical combat.” Professor Lupin cut in, waving them to follow
him as their three teachers made towards a large wooden door on the far side of
the room.
The room beyond the door had no weapons… but it did have a Colosseum styled
amphitheatre.
Passing through the threshold revealed six rows of currently empty wooden
benches wrapped around a large room lit by a large domed skylight made of many
large geometric glass panels, overlooking an area of sand about three hundred
square feet across
It was… like almost everything at Hogwarts, absurdly large by a variety of
standards, though this was certainly easier for her to handle than the great
hall had been. In the center of the sandy arena area stood four older students,
about Penny’s age, looking expectedly up at their teachers.
Sirius spun back around and instructed them to take a seat on the bleachers for
a moment. Violet sat next to her brother, unable to keep the eagerness from her
face, as it looked like they were finally going to learn something useful.
“These four eager volunteers,” Lupin addressed them all calmly with only a wisp
of a grin, “are here to demonstrate the three magical skills you will be
expected to have memorized by the week’s end.”
Sirius continued for him, waving to the students down in the sand. “The first
of these is smoke spell. “The roguish man explained. “You can cast it
wandlessly, and it is too simple to need any incantation, you simply focus
magic into your hand and concentrate on the concept of smoke as either a large
globule or as several smaller spheres. Observe.”
At his prompting, the older students each cupped a hand for a moment before
flinging them out. The first girl throwing a large pink ball at her own feet
which completely obscured her in a noiseless explosion of pink vapor the
instant it hit the ground with the other three casting a number of much smaller
projectiles of various colors at varying further distances with the boy
farthest from the first girl managing to toss his many marble sized smoke bombs
in a ring around himself.
“Note that the smoke is not dangerous in any manner, and though it is scentless
it may be flavored like something that shares its color.” Their roguish
instructor grinned at them playfully. “Tactically, the use of this spell is
obviously to conceal yourself or blind your enemies for a few moments. And note
I said a few, as you can see, the spell is already fading out and in a few more
seconds it will be gone totally.”
Indeed, the smoke had only lasted about ten seconds, only being dense for the
first five, and after about another second it had vanished entirely. “This is
because the smoke itself is not actually real, just a half-illusion created by
a small amount of magic.”
Black continued to explain. “There are as in many cases, a few different
versions of this spell that are more effective, either creating real smoke or a
much longer lasting illusion, but honestly there are maybe six of you who have
enough spare stuffing to try and learn them yet.”
“The second skill is more of an actual spell, and requires a wand or some other
focus to perform. The incantation is scintillam, and it works as follows.”
Again he gestured to the student instructors, who spoke the spell clearly and
with an odd inflection. Instantly Violet was in love, as from the tips of their
wands launched several streamers of sparkling light which flew varying
distances across the arena’s length to burst with a loud bang and a flurry of
glittering motes on the other side of the arena.
“Scintillam is not terribly dangerous except maybe to your hearing, the worst
injury this spell is likely to give you is very minor burns or possibly
temporary blindness if it strikes the eyes. The important part about this spell
is that in the off chance you end up in combat, most of the people you are
likely to be fighting against may not know that. Angels will, Knights might,
and experienced soldiery may recognize it for the nearly harmless distraction
that it is, but much of what you are likely to face will not. After all, no
yearling hastati or page is likely to be recognizing spells of any type.” The
man finished with a wry grin.
He nodded to the students for the third time, and they cast a new spell, unda
repellens. Creating from the tips of their wands a shimmering half-oval just
large enough to cover their frames from the front, which glimmered like a half
of an iridescent soap bubble about three feet in front of their wands.
This time it was Lupin who addressed them. “This is a shield spell, and to be
more specific, it is the single weakest shield spell it is possible to cast.
Arrows, javelins, sling bullets, crossbow bolts, arquebus shot, and all but the
most minor of spells will go right through it like it isn’t even there.” He
turned back to Sirius. “But if you angle it right and you have the luck of this
bastard here you can sometimes deflect rockets. I would certainly not be
counting on that though.” He finished quietly, hooking his arm at his
companion, who grinned widely and laughed.
“Yeah, take it from experience, that’s not a situation you want to put yourself
in to start with.” Black shot back at Lupin casually, but with a sort of manic
gleam in his eyes.
“Bloody impossible the both of you!” Harold cut in with an irritated groan, the
irritated Dane putting a hand on his hips and using the other to point at his
two colleagues. “Every time you tell that story, you always conveniently forget
to mention that it bounced right at my raiding party.” The man griped in what
was clearly year’s old exasperation while their students watched the byplay
with interest, crossing his arms and pretending their volunteers were not
smirking at the familiar story behind his back. 
Lupin shot Sirius a cool but friendly grin, which had the other man glaring at
him. “Some friends I have. And it isn’t like I sent it at you intentionally,
besides it was a dud anyways…” Sirius griped in his own defense.
“Not that you knew that at the time, unless you pulled some skill as a seer
firmly out of your-”
“Sir, we should start their practical lesson, should we not?” One of volunteers
spoke up from pit behind the three men.
Their three spun and nodded in tune with each other at the girl, which prompted
Harold to palm his face as the four older students snickered.
“Alright knuckleheads, it’s time to get to work!” Sirius demanded, his earlier
half-serious defensiveness rolling away from him to be replaced by a good
natured smirk as he waved their group down from the seats and to the small
wooden scaffold staircase then into the pit itself.
Violet allowed herself to be coerced into the sandpit, where somehow she found
herself standing next to the coffee-skinned pair who had been following Granger
around yesterday. Their lighter skinned companion was halfway across the pit
near her brother, but the Greek herself was standing far too close to her twin
for Violet’s liking.
Before she could do anything about it though, the nearest student instructor
snapped at the group she had somehow found herself a part of. “Alright you lot,
I can guarantee one thing about today, and that is that you are going to be far
from mastering at least one of these spells by the end of practice.” The teen
ground out at them, an expectant smirk on her face. “Start with the smoke
spell. “She ordered them with a pulse of her feeling verdant magic at their
group to help draw them in line.
“Remember to focus on smoke in your hand, don’t bother trying to create
multiple balls yet, just see if you can get one.” The teen instructed as they
each closed their fingers over their palms.
This was their first ever actual lesson as far as Violet was concerned, and so
it was with a good amount of frustration that despite feeling something emerge
from the skin at her palm, only a smallish burst of red smoke popped at her
feet when she flung the magic into the dust. Barely enough smoke to cover up to
her knobby little knees, and it faded into nothing in less than two seconds.
Her sense of frustration was exacerbated by the fact that Draco, Dior, Blaise,
and worst of all in this case the frizzy-haired Greek girl by her brother had
all been able to produce a decent cloud of magical vapor, they weren’t the only
ones but she didn’t care about the others at the moment.
It was slightly comforting that neither of the dark-skinned girls around her
did any better than she had done though. Both twins producing nothing more than
a smallish burst of colored smoke which lasted even less time than hers had
done, gone so quickly that it might have never been.
Violet’s second try was a little better, but it still paled in comparison to a
number of her other classmates.
The lesson on casting smoke lasted almost a full five minutes, but by the end
she was still preforming far less than adequately by both her own opinion and
the opinion of the student instructor.
“Jesus Red!” The Fourth Year grouched at her in annoyance, the explicative
making it immediately obvious that she was a foreigner. “More smoke less heat!
It should not be this hard for you to get this one!” The older girl growled,
looking as frustrated as she felt.
Violet glared back up at the taller girl, but before she could say anything
Sirius interrupted everyone. “Alright, let’s move in to Scintillam, don’t worry
if you haven’t got the smoke spell mastered, we’ll be going over all of these
again tomorrow.” The man instructed with a carefree grin. Waving his wand and
casting the spell wordlessly to demonstrate the intended effect and creating a
much larger trail of sparks than the student instructors had done, which burst
with a loud bang and a large flash of sparks.
Violet was frustrated, Violet was mad, Violet was angry about being shown up by
Blaise and Hermione. Violet drew her staff pressed her fiery core to launch a
ball of sparks with her first swing.
It worked, the emotions surged out of her staff and a ball of sparks darted
across the room, bouncing widely into the air after crossing the room and
striking the far wall to exploding well above their heads in the room’s center.
“We’ll no surprises there…” The teen grumbled with a barely raised eyebrow,
ignoring the shocked looks of both of the Hindu girls nearby.
They both slid closer to her at her display. “Color me impressed.” One of the
two identical girls commented, her own spell having flown a much shorter
distance and popped with a much smaller bang.
The second twin giggled queerly. “Maybe there is more to be interested in
around here than we thought Padma.” She opined with an eager grin, edging
closer to where Violet stood.
She blinked at the pair’s odd behavior, taken aback for a moment before their
instructor refocused their group again. “Settle that shit in the common room
girls, right now I want you practicing!”
And practice they did, for the next five minute period of repetition before it
was time to switch again
Unda repellens, frustratingly enough, did not work for Violet no matter how
clearly she spoke the incantation or how hard she pressed her magic out though
her staff. By the end of the spell practicing session the best she had been
able to produce was a small burst of sparkling mist which hung in the air in
front of her shimmering before airflow blew it away.
Failing was not something Violet enjoyed, not like this at least, not in front
of everyone, and the shield spell was something that absolutely refused to work
for her. So she was filled with a mixture of anger and elation when Professor
Black finally called off the spell training for the day… she had mastered one
spell, and was on the road to being proficient with the other.
That was a lot less than she had hoped, and it left her feeling irritated
again, and so when Lupin summoned a large number of brilliant blue rods into
the sand with one before each student, she was confused.
But joy burst into her heart when they were given the go ahead to pick the
short rods up though, as all the rods immediately morphed in their hands.
Flowing like a bright blue wax beneath the flame until she was holding a
comically blue glaive-guisarme in her hand. The polearm was even sized to her
height and reach.
“Alright, split into two groups and make yourselves ready.” Harold’s voice
boomed over the pit of sand, having retired with Black and Lupin, as well as
the student teachers up to the sides of the arena where they could sort the
students into two even sides.
She couldn’t contain her grin, the savage feelings flowing through her as she
finally found her way back to Harry’s side again. His blue rod having become a
rather nasty looking bill-hook, and he grinned at her as she slotted up into
her familiar position at her twin’s side.
Then the sand shifted between the two freshly balanced groups, the other side’s
weapons having turned a deep red the moment the dust began shifting, as thick
wooden poles rose above their heads and sprouted nailed on branches with fake
paper leaves.
The sunlight coming through the skylight dimmed as their arms instructor
clarified what was about to happen for the few students who hadn’t realized
already. “As many of you will doubtlessly have already noticed, the rods you
have been given are in fact specially made practice weapons which can be made
to take the proper shape and weight of any weapon demanded. For today they will
be a variety of glaives and bill-hooks, and they are imbued with both
cushioning and dulling charms to make injury with them nearly impossible.” He
glared down between the leaves at them as the sand continued to shift until the
ground was uneven and there were enough trees to make seeing the other side
difficult, and Violet imagined that his deep blue eyes stopped on her for a
moment longer than her peers.
“That being said, that was not a challenge, and I do not want to see any of you
abusing the fact that they are charmed in such a way to beat on each other
unnecessarily, as the purpose of this exercise is simply to gauge you’re
general aptitude at combat with arms not gauge your pain tolerance.”
Now she was sure had looked at her for an extra moment after that little extra
tidbit he had put on at the end.
As the leaves finally began blocking her view he continued. “We are simulating
a meeting between two groups of skirmisher-scouts in woodland environment,
lethal weapons strikes will release a sleeping spell into the combatant
receiving them, the side that loses all of its fighters or routes first will
run ten laps before we leave today.”
She could barely see his outline through the paper leaves now, but she still
heard the shouted “Begin!” as clearly as the reverb from a bombard shot.
Immediately the other side gave a collective shout from across the sandy space
and she could feel the tension burst in the students around her as they
prepared to follow suit.
It was Harry; however who held them back, clearly recounting the various
raiding and leadership drills their uncle had taught him. Instead of rushing
forward he shouted at their group to close ranks.
Technically, there was no one in charge of the thirty or so odd students that
made up their side, but with no one else giving any attempt at leadership it
was only a second later that she found herself shoulder to shoulder with her
brother and a visibly agitated Hermione Granger.
It was obvious to her immediately that her twin’s order to close ranks was one
of the most important factors in their side’s decisive victory. There were
still a few “trees” breaking their half-circle line up, but for the most part
the other side streamed into their position in a rush, reaching their compacted
line in several separated clumps instead of anything cohesive.
They paid dearly for their disunity, and were pulled apart in seconds as groups
of two’s and three’s arrived to meet half-a-dozen false polearms at once before
the next group could push their way into combat.
She grinned ferally as she locked arms with the tan boy from the wall earlier;
catching his halberd for long enough that Hermione could take a swipe at his
neck with her glaive that would have had his head if the fight had been real.
She laughed as the boy crumpled to the ground and easily ducked a clumsy jab by
Pansy that had been aimed at her face, giving another barking laugh as the girl
overextended herself and allowed Harry to stab her in the stomach.
They had no idea what hit them, even the handful of students on the other side
who understood what all of the spikes and hooks on their weapons were there for
could only catch one other persons arm at a time, and without the help of their
fellows fighting with anything resembling cohesion it was hopeless. By the end
even Violet herself, who had practiced far less with various pole weapons than
her brother, had still easily managed to garner three “kills”, and even locked
weapons with two additional students for Hermione to finish off.
Total, the battle lasted a minute to a minute and a half at most; including the
time the other side had taken to reach them, with the Red’s having skewered
themselves recklessly against their wall of half-coordinated polearms.
Then the “trees” sunk back into the sand and she was able to see just how badly
the other side had done.
Six of the students on her team lay crumpled unconscious in the dust, for the
cost of the entire enemy side but Hannah and Susan who stood about twenty feet
away with wide fearful eyes.
“Alright, so it wasn’t as balanced as I thought it was.” Harold admitted to the
other two instructors above them, catching her attention in time to see the man
passing Lupin a handful of something shiny with an annoyed look on his face,
before Sirius raised his wand and the sleeping students awoke with a collective
start.
“Abysmal job red team, five half-trained hastati could have undone you as
easily as this lot.” The Dane growled down at the waking side sternly. “But I
suppose this’ll give you all a good example of how leadership, teamwork, and
coordinated effort are essential to winning battles.”
He waved a hand at her brother as the previously sleeping students pulled and
untangled themselves from their weapons and each other with a mixture of groans
and half-hostile glares to the students who had done them in. “A single order
was given and followed in this entire skirmish and it made the difference
between victory and defeat.” Harold continued sternly, his axe now somehow in
his hands again as he waved it towards them all.  
“Alright, how about double or nothing?” Sirius added, wiping his long black
hair back with a savage grin. “What say you red team, you think you can do
bett-”
A cacophonous clanging cut him off, the same bells that had interrupted them
this morning from the sounds of it.
Their arms instructors’ expression soured at the noise. “Never mind, it seems
you are dismissed for dinner.” He finished as Lupin swished his wand at the
side of the arena, and a doorway bent itself into the wall.
“All actors bow and exit stage left.” Sirius added as the doorway opened,
causing their other two teachers to shoot the playful man a look.
She had nothing to prepare her for the light smack to the back of her head.
“Bow and go to dinner shorty.” The same instructor from before said with a grin
as Violet spun to assault whoever had the gall to hit her, stunned slightly as
the teenage girl from earlier let her magic slam down into her core.
When she next knew what was happening, she was in the dining room they had had
breakfast and lunch in, shooting Blaise a glare as she draped herself across
the table towards her twin.
“WhatFuck!” She growled as she snapped back to her senses with an abrupt
feeling.
“Took you long enough, maybe next time don’t try punching people you’re not
even facing.” Dior’s arrogant tone flowed from behind her, and she spun on the
bench to see the girl looking down at her with a raised eyebrow.
A snort she recognized as Pansy came from behind the blonde, and the other
girl’s black-mopped head emerged from behind Dior’s thin frame. “She stupefied
you, you dumbass.” The bony little snake informed her with a grin. “You’ve been
stumbling around like you downed an entire flask of rum for the past twenty
minutes.”
Violet instinctively did the only thing she could think of in that moment.
“I’ll show you stupefied you snub-nosed little shit!” She snarled, leaping
across Dior’s lap to grab at Pansy’s hair.
The other girl jerked back just in time, and she ended up sprawled in Dior’s
lap instead, as Pansy slid into the space of the girl next to her to avoid
Violet’s frustratingly short grasp. “You’re hardly the person to be commenting
on someone’s height…” The black-haired girl shot back snidely from her safe
position.
 “Calm down, both of you.” Her brother responded in an exasperated tone,
hooking an arm around her waist and pulling her up off of Dior’s legs before
she could do anything more than attempt a lunge across the blonde’s lap.
“Honestly, we just were told this this morning.” Her twin griped at them as he
slid her over closer to where he was sitting, looping the arm not holding a cup
of wine around her neck to keep her in place.
She would have objected to being brought to heel, but the flash of his magic
across their bond quelled her complaints for the moment, as she had to focus on
not moaning aloud as her thighs squeezed together instinctively.
It seemed that Pansy would need another lesson about who was in charge, but
that could easily wait until they returned to the dorms for bedtime. As while
she had no great love of patience, she also didn’t fancy having to be punished
again for misbehavior.
Plus, the caressing tentacles of her twin’s magic were simply too pleasant for
her to willingly break the close contact.
Harry obviously knew what he was doing, displaying his power over her as he hit
her with another burst of magic and she felt her slit drooling lubrication,
before a short squirt of wetness burst out from deep within her tight crease in
a little splash out across the insides of her tightly clenched thighs before
sliding down her butt-crack, her eyes closing in pleasure against her own will
as she inhaled sharply.
She wondered idly, as she bit down on her lower lip, if the old lady in their
first class hadn’t been telling the truth after all, if their bond had indeed
broken her a little bit inside… if it had made her dependent and docile towards
him. She certainly couldn’t even raise a finger to resist him as it was at the
moment.
As she slowly relaxed, slumping against his frame as she allowed her senses to
dull in pleasure, and then she felt something that made her tense up even more
than she had been before.
There was a single finger sliding between her freshly relaxed thighs, up from
her rosebud along the length of her slit, pausing at her entrance for a moment
and stopping to circle her tiny hooded clit before pulling back out from
between the folds of her robe.
Her eyes snapped open as she turned her head, and she gave Dior an irate glare
which simply caused the elfin blonde’s catty grin to grow even bigger. “Decided
to go feeding the fairies Red?” The girl asked teasingly. “If you’re not
careful, you’re going to end up stuck to the bench.”
“At least I won’t be sticking because of sweat.” She shot back idly as she
continued to bask in her brother’s magic, knowing by now which buttons to push
to get the uptight girl annoyed. “Maybe if you had been any good at fighting
you wouldn’t have had to run laps, even Pansy lasted longer.” The jab clearly
hit home, as Dior’s smug expression soured instantly.
Being taken out as the third casualty in a fight tended to cause harsh
feelings.
The blonde snorted at her imperiously, wiping the sheen of sweat off of her
brow with an irritated huff before turning back to focusing pointedly at
demolishing her slice of roast, taking a deep swig of wine after each bite.
It was a tiny victory, but a victory none the less, and she took the time to
grin lethargically as she reached for her own cup. It turned to a grimace as
she took a swig and realized it was nothing so sweet as wine.
She turned her head and looked up at her brother; Harry shrugged idly making
his half-tamed shoulder length hair dance. “You wanted whiskey…” He explained
and trailed off for a moment, before fixing her with a small smirk. “And far be
it from me to tell a pretty girl not to go for the hard stuff.” He said,
wiggling his eyebrows.
His magic pulsed with each word as he spoke, and she had to resist the urge to
purr under the attention. “Y-” Her voice hitched. “You keep that up and I might
have to give you a reward.”
He would get that either way, but there was always fun in playing it out.
By the end of their meal, she had put down a little bit more of the Gaelic
“water of life” and a plate of honeyed biscuits as Tonks returned. The eldest
of their Esquires looking a bit frazzled as she led the other two Esquires into
the dining hall, Tai was frowning, and Penny’s bun was half-undone.
Violet didn’t even want to know.
“Alright, your last class is in the Astronomy spire, which means you lucky
bunch get to see the moving staircases on your very first day. The shape-
shifting teenager exclaimed with a sort of weary cheerfulness.
“And we need to go soon if we mean to be on time. That means finish eating
already Ronald.” Penny scolded as the redheaded boy playfully swiped another
cake from a bowl.
Getting to the moving staircase, like a lot of things in the castle as it
turned out, required a lot of walking. And while Penny explained that they
would eventually be able to use the various shortcuts, at the moment there was
a ward preventing them from getting themselves getting even more lost than they
would get just sticking to the main hallways.
“Hey Tonks?” She finally asked after they crossed the drawbridge into the keep
proper after about ten minutes of walking, slotting up next to the shape-
shifter’s side a bit drunkenly but mostly stable on her feet. “Where is my
dragon?”
Tonks blinked tiredly, seeming to take a moment to realize she had been asked a
question before she ran a hand through her own hair brilliantly purple and gave
Violet a grin. “I’d wager he’s out catching pests and stuff around the castle.
He was born here after all.” The teen shrugged. “I’ll teach you to call him
later; we’re just about to the staircase.”
The moving staircase was even more headache inducing than she had been
expecting. It was massively tall but relatively thin chamber lit by hundreds of
stain glass windows and thousands of candles and oil lamps, reaching well more
than half of the citadel’s height and filled with literally moving staircases
that would swing this way and that depending on what part of the building the
stairs decided needed to be accessed.
The part they needed to reach was predictably almost at the rooms ceiling.
Because of course it was…
“Does absolutely everything have to be as far apart as possible in this
castle.” A strange looking girl with coal black hair and squinting eyes, whose
name she hadn’t bothered to remember noted in an annoyed though thickly
accented tone.
It was a statement she agreed with wholeheartedly, and she knew that there
would be blisters’ forming under her uniform’s sandals as it was already.
“As you can obviously tell,” Penny said, her voice cutting though the din of
their group’s exhausted chatter as well as the babble of the hundreds of other
people in the room, “that’s a lot of stairs…” The teen added obviously.
“Fortunately, you don’t have to master them tonight.
“Yeah that’s where-”
“We come in!” Exclaimed a pair of identical voices.
It was interesting, watching Ron and Ratchel visibly stiffen in real time, as a
pair of identical redheads who were obviously their older siblings by
appearance alone, emerged from a by now familiar type of distortion in the air
in front of their group. With Ron and Rachel standing near enough to her that
she could feel the echoes of annoyance pulse off their cores.
She decided that whoever these two teens were that she liked them more than the
other two Weasley’s she had met before, simply for annoying the other pair.
It seemed to perk up Tonks at the sight of the pair. “I was wondering when you
two troublemakers were going to get here. Finished your detention already?” She
teased them with her hair rapidly flashing though different colors.
They laughed in prefect tune. “You wouldn’t believe how easy it is to fool
Binns.” One of the two identical people remarked with a wry grin. “All we had
to do was leave a bit of magic behind and he doesn’t know the difference.” The
other exclaimed with a short laugh.
She could see Penny roll her eyes as she turned from the pair to address the
group. “Normally you would have your first broomstick lesson right now, but
Madam Hooch decided to live up to her name tonight, so we’ll have to make do
with Fred and George’s questionable guidance.” The mousy teen remarked
sarcastically, with the pair taking a bow as she said their names.
“We are the masters of the maze!” Fred exclaimed with his twin nodding
excitedly in agreement.
“If you ever need to get somewhere, we can show you the way.” George added.
“For a certain price.” They finished the last part the same time, flashing
playful grins and wiggling their eyebrows.
“We also run a shop on the second wall.” George continued as the pair led their
group away towards the chamber’s wall. “We sell everything from rock candy and
fairy repellents to love potions and all sorts of stuff in between.”
As he was explaining this to them, his twin was busy arranging flat colored
hexes inset on the fireplace they had approached, tapping them in a sequence to
change the pattern of the colors.
Finally, after a second of shifting patterns with rapid wand taps, the entire
grid glowed lightly purple and there was a clunking sound. The side of the
fireplace swung open, and revealed a truly tiny wooden staircase, one that was
small and low enough that she was immediately sure they would have to move on
their hands and knees to have any hope of climbing up.
 “I’m out.” Tai snapped quickly as the tan teen eyed the tiny doorway. “I leave
Tonks in charge.” She finished sharply, turning and vanishing on the spot in
that strange manner older students seemed to be able to do.
Tonks simply snorted. “Someone’s not wearing any britches under her robes.” The
shape-shifter assumed smugly, while the Weasley twins just snorted as the
Egyptian teen disappeared.
“Now up the lot of you, follow the Weasley!” Their clumsy leader commanded,
swinging her staff at George, who snapped sharply to attention and launched
himself up the bolt-hole of a stairway.
Harry pushed her forward as the Indian trio chased the first half-dozen
students after redhead who had shot straight up the way. She quickly realized
just how low the staircase was as it’s “roof” was less than a foot above her
back as she crawled up, finding herself directly behind one of the two darker
twins from the Indian trio. Getting a good long feeling at the cloth coated bum
of the twin in front of her as they crawled up the unlit staircase. It was a
pitch-black ascent, and she found her face constantly bumping into the fabric
crease in front of her as the students in front of them stumbled and started to
stops at the steep and tight ascent and seemingly random stair height.
 “You know if you were curious, you just could have asked.” Whichever of the
identical Indians she was constantly finding her face shoved into the rear of
whispered down at her with a tone that was somehow both submissive and teasing
as her arms tripped over yet another stair that seemed to have an entirely
randomly chosen height.
Padma, she decided based on the feeling of the girl’s magic from earlier,
finally began pushing herself back onto Violet’s nose each time she tripped
forward again, pressing back hard enough that she could smell the other girl’s
musky fragrance through the thin cloth as the cloth pressed in.
They finally stopped after what had to have been at least two minutes of
climbing and bumping into the Indian in front of her, she knew just by the fact
that she was no longer hearing movement from the students in front of Padma
that they must have stopped as well. “I think George is trying to open up the
next pathway.” The girl whispered back huskily, herself clearly affected by
Violet’s frequent accidental contact, finally spreading her legs open now that
they were stopped and lowering her butt slightly so her belly mist have been
pressed flush against the stairs below them. The dark-skinned girl wordlessly
inviting her to choose to press her nose against the soaked damp crease of her
sex or into the rounded rear crack which Violet’s nose had been frequently
buried in seconds earlier.
Normally she would have been furious to be placed into a sexual position by
another girl, that was for Violet to do and not them, but it was pitch-black in
the cramped stairway, which meant that no one would see this, and besides that
the other girl’s magic was both submissive and simply intoxicating.
Nothing like Blaise’s had been, there was no attempt to control or coerce her,
it was simply an aspect of the girls core echoing innocently in tune with her
own. Padma had an exotic and foreign flame inside her, her magic full of
incense and scented smokes, and her own blazing core roared to fiery life in
approval as it pulled free of her grasp and swelled forward.
She felt a string of wetness slid down her skinny inner thigh, then another and
another. as she nosed down and breathed in the scent of the tan-skinned girls
musky arousal with the dampness of the soiled seat of the other girls robe
moistening her nose and face, and finally Violet gripped the stair hard in her
hands as her twin’s core probed her own curiously causing another pulse of
pleasure. It was an innocent touch, he obviously couldn’t see what was
happening, but she was sure he could smell her freshly dripping heat, as he was
nearly as close to her rear as she was to Padma’s though not in direct contact.
After nearly ten seconds Violet had finally had enough and she lunged forward
with her hands, not actually moving herself forward any as there was literally
no room, but changing her death-grip from the wooden stair to reach under
Padma’s tunic and grip her thighs viciously. Feeling as the Indian’s breath
hitched through the dark flesh in her palms.
Immediately Padma hissed out something she didn’t understand, but it sounded
like a swearword and that made her grin. Shifting her weight, she freed her
arms from the yielding flesh to violently pull the lower half of the other
girl’s robe up over her waist, ignoring what dimly sounded like Pansy’s
bitching from much lower down the stairway, before sinking her fingers blindly
into the globes of the girls butt.
The other girl inhaled sharply in front of her as she spread Padma’s cheeks
wide open as far as she could , and then she felt a hand grip into her curly
mane, and she allowed herself to be gently guided forward into the girl’s
dripping sex.
She felt the other girl swoon as she pressed her head forward in the darkness,
swiping her tongue blindly across the girls slot with a broad lick, and bumping
accidently at the still half-spread rosebud above the other girl’s slit with
her nose which made Padma’s core flare in submissive pleasure.
Violet understood what was happening, on some deep instinctual level, if not in
her actual conscious mind. Padma was letting her know where she would sit in
relation to Violet in the magical hierarchy females created for themselves when
in large numbers. The tan-skinned girl was telling her ‘Use me as you wish, I
am not a threat’ without actually using any words, veiling her meaning in
submissive actions of her body and magic in the darkened stairway.
It was punctuated, reinforced, when Pandma pulled forward slightly and lay
completely flat on the carpeted stairway. Allowing Violet to crawl partially
forward into a dominant position, forward enough that she could reach up and
run a finger down the back of the dark-skinned Indians neck.
It was so obviously a subservient move that even Violet couldn’t miss the
meaning of the gesture, and she snorted as she reached back down with her hand
and slid it back over the compact globes of the other girls butt, groping each
cheek in turn before forcing her middle finger violently through the puckered
star nestled between them. She reveled in the pained yelp that escaped the
other girls lips as the body beneath her trembled, then finally choosing to
initiate her new rank as she pulled the neck of the other girls robe to the
side with her other hand, trying to leak as little magic as possible and keep
this whole deal a secret in the dark, as even though Harry and Padma’s twin
would know instantly, she had no desire to give the other’s a heads up on their
new positions.
Her teeth dug harshly into Padma’s shoulder as she bit down, hard enough that
she was guaranteed to leave a very obvious mark if not a bruise, and the Indian
girl suppressed a pained whimper. Their cores flared briefly in tune, tendrils
of magic reaching out and intertwining subtly. It was a strange feeling, one
that tickled the inside of Violet’s chest like the one time she had tried
smoking Yorik’s pipe, almost like the buildup to a cough or sneeze but at a
more visceral level.
Magic was at work inside them, its crafty hand binding some infinitesimal part
of their cores together temporarily. Violet hoped quietly that she might be
able to do something more permanent to the other girl in the future, but there
was no time at the moment, as the noise of the student in front of Padma
beginning to move forward again reached her ears a second before the girls
pleading voice called her name. “Violet!”
It was a hissed whisper, one that no one else was meant to hear but she knew
they would have to end for now, and so she released the other girl's shoulder
from between her teeth and drew her finger free, forcing Padma to suck it clean
before quietly sliding back towards her brother as the Indian moved forward.
Reveling in the smug feelings that surged into her heart at the way the girl
stumbled on the first few steps. They began slowly advancing again, the Weasley
having apparently opened the pathway forward.
Padma was now a known element, though that the girl had chosen to submit to her
instead of Hermione who she had been hanging around earlier was a little
confusing, but for now Violet went forward past into the new pathway with a new
layer of confidence even as her twin shot her a mildly questioning look which
she ignored with a practiced ease.
The new area was clearly a library of some sort, but it was empty and dark.
Long shafts of moonlight shot in beams down from high thin windows far above
them, catching on motes of dust and providing a meager amount of light as they
emerged from a shifted bookcase.
That in itself was not interesting in the least, row upon row of musty tomes
held no interest to her, but the reaction of their Esquires upon emerging from
the stairway certainly did.
Penny in particular had her eyebrows shoot up almost to her hairline as she
burst forward between the other First-Years towards where Fred and George were
standing. “Fred, George!” The teen hissed. “This is the third floor library!
You know, the one that’s strictly off limits!” The teen ground out as the twin
redheads rolled their eyes.
“Relax Pen, the traps and stuff aren’t even set up yet.” One of the identical
twins responded.
The other piped up casually as soon as his other stopped speaking. “Besides, if
we really weren’t meant to get in here why wouldn’t they just ward the
entrances off and not bother with the announcement anyways?”
Penny blinked at him angrily in response as Tonks slunk up behind her quietly.
“They’ve actually got a pretty good point Penny.” The tall teen whispered.
“Besides, I doubt we’ll need to be here long anyways.” She added to quell her
younger partner’s incoming ire.
Both Weasley’s nodded at that, gesturing to the base of a staircase which
opened with a wand flick to reveal a strange shimmering mirror that hung in the
air and released strange bubble-like distortions of the air from its edges.
“Alright everyone, I give you our destination, the Astronomy Spire.” One of the
two identical teens added with a smirk, before he fell backwards though the
silvery veil and vanished with a flash of eerie light.
                                       S
The journey through the looking glass had been nauseating for Hermione, falling
rapidly though a sort of cylinder that seemed to twirl and blend around her
while lights of all colors blinked in and out of existence on the tunnel’s
metallic surface and giving her the impression that the entire thing was
spinning around her.
The fact that it ended with her being deposited in a tangled heap with her
sister was also slightly infuriating even if they did land on a large pillow.
They were in a smoky room, the air thick with a variety of cloying incenses,
decorated by fragrant Potpourri and lit by large candles of varying colors on
stands in a ring around where they had landed.
Her pillow was large and white, with a huge number of tassels, and as she
blearily resisted the urge to vomit and willed the world to stop spinning she
recognized that they were many other similar pillows arranged in a sort of ring
on the floor with the arrangement obviously patterned on the zodiac.
As her attention turned to the people in the room, she automatically zoned out
the other students who by this point had all arrived, landing on the pillows
around her, as well as the Esquires who arrived moments later with the second
of the pair of redheaded twins. Instead she chose to focus on the pair of women
standing in the center of the arrangement.
One was old, her hair silvered and her face wrinkled with age, but her eyes
behind her huge thick glasses were kind enough, even if her clothing was
garishly decorated. All deep purples, Violets and blues, and coated with
strange symbols that were etched into the fabric or hanging off little tassels
as talismans.
The second was much younger, and couldn’t be older than twenty-five, with dark
skin and a sort of cool amusement in her eyes as she surveyed them. She was
dressed in robes the color of the night sky, and they twinkled merrily with
little stars embossed on them.
“I trust that everyone has arrived Esquires?” The elder of the two asked in a
light and slightly raspy voice.
Tonks nodded, before she and Penny bowed at the waist while the Weasley twins
kneeled and bowed with glowing grins.
Tonks’s gaze swept the room as she rose, mentally taking stock of her charges
before giving the pair of teachers a grin. “All here and accounted for Lady
Trelawney.” The oldest of the teens responded with a flourish. “What shall the
whippersnappers be learning tonight?” The teen pried eagerly.
The newly named Trelawney smiled kindly. “Tonight they shall be preforming a
dream quest, to figure out what their animagus forms are Esquire.”
Tonks snorted loudly at that, a knowing grin spreading across her lips as she
turned and gave the assembled First-Years a wink. “I will tell you lot what!”
She said loudly to them, her tone more than a bit smug as the Weasley twins
snickered from their place beside her. “You lot are in for a Hel of a time
tonight!”
“I assume you’ve arranged their transportation back to the dorm Professor
Sinistra?” Penny asked after rolling her eyes at her companions.
The dark-skinned woman nodded. “It has been dealt with Esquire Penelope.” She
said, making Hermione blink as she realized that Penny had not actually been
the older girl’s name.
Penelope nodded sharply at the woman before spinning halfway around to glare up
at Tonks. “We have classes to get to…” She demanded of the taller girl coolly,
making Hermione’s stomach clench for reasons she didn’t even want to guess at.
“Like Snape is going to miss me.” Tonks shot down smugly.
“That you’re a total menace in Potions doesn’t mean you can just skip the class
Tonks.” She hissed back, ignoring the amused looks passing across the faces of
the two professors.
Fred and George took the opportunity to flank her from both sides, shit-eating
grins on both of their faces. “Come on Penny.” The Twin on the girl’s right cut
in. “It’s not like our honorable Professors-”
“-couldn’t use some help distributing Mushroom Tea.” The one on the left
finished for his brother, wiggling his eyebrows in tune with his twin.
The manner the twin had said “Mushroom Tea” made her stomach clench even
further as she remembered the last mushroom encounter she had had today as she
adjusted herself on the pillow, pulling Melody into her lap as Penny turned
with a scowl to shoot a pleading look at their Professors.
Trelawney shrugged while Sinistra hid a smile behind her hand. “I don’t think
Severus would mind not having a batch of ingredients ruined, and seeing as the
twins have obviously slipped by Binns, that just leaves you dear.” The elder of
the two responded. “I could write you a slip of you wanted to stay and help
instead of attending Study Hall tonight.”
Penelope deflated slightly, casting Tonks a quick glare. “No that’s fine; I was
planning to skip anyways… Castor and Pollux have been acting up again and Melly
and the others are busy in the Forbidden Forest or on duty.” The younger teen
answered with a sigh.
Tonks wrapped the shorter teen up in a tight hug from behind, burying her nose
in Penelope’s half-undone bun. “Oh luv, yer taken such good care of the pups.”
The teen crooned happily before her partner freed herself.
“Alright dearies.” Lady Trelawney cut in, drawing Hermione’s attention away
from the pair as Penny pulled herself into the higher plane. “Suffice to say we
have quite the treat planned for you all tonight.” She said, gesturing to a
series of large bronzed kettles Hermione had not noticed before, which had
begun to whistle quietly. Then down to a series of oddly shaped glass objects
which she immediately recognized. The glassware was the type used to smoke
Scythian Flower, a powerful plant used as medicine and an intoxicant.
Her trio of Indian friends seemed to realize this as well, and she could see
Sue Lee visibly perk up as her dark eyes caught the glassware as well. She had
never partaken in the leaf before, and she could only imagine what the mages
might have done with it to change and strengthen its effects.
The teenagers worked swiftly, placing a large cup of steaming tea before each
pillow with the help of their teachers. She was confused for only a moment when
two cups were placed in front of her by Sinistra herself.
The woman smiled as she blinked in shock and Melody wiggled in her lap. “Might
as well get it out of the way for both of you in one go, eh?”
Hermione didn’t think that, she didn’t think that the twin pairs of glasswork
were needed either, and she didn’t need to look to know Melody’s eyes were
bugged out in shock and nervousness because she kept wiggling her little butt
around in Hermione’s lap in obvious nervousness.
“Start by drinking your tea everyone, while I get the Runic arrangement set
up.” Trelawney instructed their group and Hermione hesitantly picked her cup
up, swallowing a lump of saliva as the witch swiftly wove complex and colorful
circular patterns which hung in the air even after her wand had switched to the
next one.
They did not fade like she had expected them to and instead the runes floated
around the room, weaving in and out with each other and forming an interlocking
sort of dome around the circle of pillows.
The tea was bitter, an earthy flavor of shredded mushrooms mixed with some
other mysterious ingredients that added unpleasantly to the aftertaste, and she
downed the entire cup’s contents in a single go to avoid the flavor. This
caused both Weasley twins who had been glancing in her direction raised their
eyebrows in shock.
“We got a live one Fred!” George shouted as Melody finished downing her tea in
the same manner, turning back in her lap to look up at her with her cute little
face scrunched up at the flavor.
The pair rushed up to her, suddenly seeming to blur in their motion even though
she felt no wind from faster than normal movement. “Way to go you two!” A twin
she thought was George, though she might have been wrong, congratulated them.
“I’ve never seen anyone take an entire cup of psilocybin in one swig.”
“A word of advice…” The other of the pair said in a bit more of a soothing tone
as his skin shifted in color to a magenta hue. “Just relax and go with the
flow, inhale the smoke deep and then don’t even try and move, stay as still as
possible after this. Just let your magic handle it and enjoy the trip.” The now
green/purple teen added, moving the mouthpiece of the glassware close to her
lips, close enough now that she could see the bulge at the bottom was filled
with water as he placed a strangely shaped smaller piece of glass into a hole
at the top of the bulge. Summoning a tiny flame to the tip of his finger as his
twin imitated his every move for her sister. “This’ll help you keep nice and
calm. Now inhale.”
There was a new smell in the air as he pressed the mouthpiece to her lips and
she inhaled deeply as he lit the flower, the scent of something musky and damp,
it mingled in her senses with the similar taste of the smoke filling her lungs.
“Alright now smoothly exhale all of it in one go.” Maybe Fred continued to
guide her. She managed it well enough, but Melody couldn’t, and maybe George
had to fill her cup back up and give her another sip to prevent her coughing
fit.
“She is going to be so lost.” The twin who was helping her spoke to his brother
as she inhaled another lungful, she had forgotten his name, but colors splashed
across her senses as his words impacted her deep inside her body.
Her mind felt scattered as the second identical twin turned to the closer one.
“She’s gone Fred.” The thunderhead of color responded as it indicated Hermione
with a rippling sensation that shook the foundations of her tesseract.
“You think Snape added cactus juice or something to this batch?” The closer
thunderhead responded as it rose away from her and transformed into a swirling
mass of smoky metal flowers. “This whole lot conked out fast…”
She was melting away from the world, her magic was melting with her as they
went to another place, but something about the experience made it impossible to
care. The music had begun to sound ever so faintly as it called to her from
high beyond the vault of the sky, a deep bass of frantically pounding drums
coupled with whining flutes, gently caressing her form and dragging her onward
into the sky by a congeries of iridescent globes.
The old world was melting away, but a new one was taking shape…
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And Jesus Christ it’s finally done!
At EIGTHY TWO PAGES LONG!
Anyways, there was a good number of things I wanted to do in this chapter, the
first of which was to give Violet a bit of spotlight… which conveniently let me
demonstrate a tiny bit more of how the hierarchy forms, as well as allow me to
show a bit more of the story from her perspective.
The second thing I wanted to do was explore the idea of different classes than
the ones we usually see, I am absolutely sure that literally everyone reading
this has read through the scene where Snape gives his little speech and asks
his questions a hundred times or more, I’d say it’s a little tired at this
point in my humble opinion.
This option also let me take a bit of time to come up with some unique classes
and unique lessons, and on a side note, why isn’t there some sort of
introductory class taught at Hogwarts for First-Year muggleborns?
That’s actually one of the few reasons I’ve seen people give for why the
Pureblood ideology exists, in the tiny number of fics that bother to address it
at all that is.
I mean really, how hard would it be to hire some random and moderately unbiased
wizard, like for example let’s say Amos Diggory, to explain to the muggleborns
how they do things in the Wizarding world, and more importantly why?
But I digress, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. It might be a bit until the
next one comes out, which will be all about what happens to our brave
protagonists on their drug induced dreamquests and their aftermath!
Anyways, if you liked it, hated it, or just what to stop by and let me know you
exist, feel free to leave a comment.
Until next time, this has been The Oddest Exclamation
***** Dreams in the Witch House *****
Before we begin I'm just going to start by mentioning that the screen on the
laptop I was using to write this got destroyed recently, and I haven't yet
found a desktop screen to plug into it so I can get everything off, and I am
being forced to use a laptop without my normal word processor.
Which of course means that I am writing this in Google Docs word processor, so
if there is anything majorly weird with this chapters formatting, spelling or
something like that, that's probably why.
At any rate, I'll have no real idea how long this is until long after I post
it, but hopefully it doesn't end up being too short or awful looking.
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After evening had come, she knew that this would finally be the day she would
be free. It was dark, but the shadow held no spell over her eyes as she hung
suspended high in the atmosphere, her fluid-filled prison's transparent outer
wall allowing her six eyes to easily penetrate the shadows on starlight alone.
Her egg was, along with all of those of her siblings, strung cluster-like below
the proportionally gigantic form of their parent.
She was tiny, a speck of dust hung down on one of the two trailing vines of
eggs emerging from slits beneath her mother's eyes, one of a brood of hundreds.
Something that would be provided the base necessity before being abandoned to
live or die on her own merits.
 Life was a dance of death, one she was about to become intimately familiar
with.
Her mother soared through the icy sky, ducking in and out of the cover of a
tremendous arctic storm-head, and as her mind slowly sharpened and her gaze
began to grow inquisitive, she could see that her parent was not alone but one
of a pack of six familiar shapes.
Their forms were long, pale and tubular with a pair of thin fins on the end of
their heads giving the tip of the body a diamond shape and allowing easy
control in maneuvering high in the sky.
The whisps of clouds on the outside of the storm gave them cover, but still
allowed them to see clearly the frozen continent at the bottom of this world,
with it’s terrible mountains which rose higher into the sky than any others.
This was their ideal breeding grounds, though hunting here was normally very
sparse, but this time of year was special, there was a special type of prey
here now.
For a second she glimpsed it out of the corner of one of her eye clusters, a
pale greenish cloud hung loosely around the peak of one of those faraway
mountains, out of the cloud shot a tiny shape which turned back around and dove
back into the cloud.
Her mother and the others sprung to life at the movement, lights along their
pale flanks flashing complex patterns as they surged forward gleefully, fast
enough that she found her clear prison pressed firmly against the underside of
her parent as she surged forward.
Prey, she understood the term without needing context, prey had been spotted
and now they only needed to subdue it.
They closed the distance quickly, tiny pores in their skin shedding a tiny bit
of lifting gas to allow them to move more swiftly through the air. It was a
small sacrifice, one that they could easily afford as desperate as their
mission was.
Their eggs were almost ready to hatch, and it they couldn’t provide soon they
themselves would become sustenance to their own brood, which would turn
parasitic without something else to eat.
She watched inquisitively as they closed on the oddly colored cloud formation.
The creatures ducking in and out of the clouds, she now guessed to number
around ten in strength growing larger and larger as they surged forward against
the frigid howling of the wind.
By the time they were close enough for her to make out clear distinctions, the
largest of the beasts was already more than three times larger than her mother
and the rest of her pack.
Her hearing was not especially good through the fluid that filled her egg but
she could hear the moans of the beasts as they realized the pack was swiftly
drawing closer, a pitiful almost mournful sound as they made to try and close
the great distances between them in the greenish cloud.
Now that they were closer and flying into the cloud itself, her keen eyes could
make out that it was not a simple cloud of water they were flying though, but a
dusting of tiny and strangely thin green things with a little bubble in the
center to hold them suspended and a ring of branching green lines emerging from
them.
There were other things in the cloud as well, strange featureless things that
were little more than gaping mouths protruding from short wings and guided by a
stumpy wing-like tail. Creatures which might have reminded one who dwelt on the
surface to hollow, nearly transparent stalks of ultra-thin bamboo, which basked
upright unafraid of the small false-mantas.
If they had nervous systems though, they were afraid of the prey. Huge
creatures, whose massive mouths opened and whose bottom jaw split greedily as
they propelled themselves forward with their diamond shaped tails, guided to
congregations of aerial-plankton by three sets of fins emerging just beneath
their eye clusters.
The great beasts had by now clumped up, all but the smallest of their number
which had been on the clouds very outskirts when they had initially spotted the
closing hunting pack. Now that individual, still more than twice the six of the
largest of her mother's pack, was cut off by three of the adults including her
mother, it rose for the skies and ejected a small cloud of liquid which
instantly turned to frozen steam as it left the creature's body.
It tried to rise faster, doing in essence the opposite of that the pack had
done before, but it was in vain as the closest adult was already upon it. She
watched curiously as the side closing on the great beast sprung open, a pair of
long thin arm springing forward and anchoring the vicious hooks that tipped
them into the prey’s hide and reeling the adult in, the half-dozen shorter arms
snapping tight around the creatures pale flank as it closed.
The weightless leviathan moaned again, and now that she was so much closer she
could hear the long mournful call distinctly, and she could easily pick out the
clicks and whistles that had blended together before.
The adults skin flashed red suddenly as the outer layer of the prey’s skin
broke free into a cloud of immaterial little needles, she knew instinctively
that they were poisonous but the adults were large enough that they only proved
to be a mild irritant.
This instinctive knowledge proved true as her mother and the third closest
female launched their attacks, their longest tentacles darting forward to give
them an initial anchor point as the prey inhaled a gulp of air through it’s
mouth and exhaling it through slots lower down towards its tail to propel
itself rapidly forward in a futile attempt to escape.
Her cluster jerked hard at the impact, far enough behind her mother’s eyes that
they avoided slamming into the base of her tentacles, and she could see the
shadows of the other three adults moving swiftly into position to grapple with
the prey.
It moaned and flailed, flexing it’s soft and malleable form bonelessly in the
adults grasp but it was pointless, the largest hooks on the twin longest
tentacles had dug into the yielding flesh and the smaller hooks lining the
shorter grasping tentacles had dug in as well.
With its defenses spent, the beast could do nothing but slowly become numb to
the paralyzing toxin on the slimy outer layer of the adults bodies, helplessly
squirming in an attempt to free its doomed self as they bored into it’s flesh
with saw-like mouth-parts and wrestled it slowly and inexorably towards a
nearby outcropping high up on the mountainside.
 The combatants were so light that the touchdown must have taken a quarter of
the night, much longer than the few moments the actual battle itself had taken,
and it seemed to go in slow motion as the great prey slowly became too
exhausted too poisoned and too injured to resist the final crash into the icy
cliff face.
They didn’t hit the base earth with the beast, the adults detaching themselves
in the final seconds before the creature slammed into the ice and stone with a
much softer crash than an outside observer would have expected for such a large
creature. Its impact blew a small amount of snow out from beneath it, and it
bounced back into the air slowly for a moment before coming to a rolling stop
against the side of the mountain.
The prey was silent now, motionlessly bleeding a thick viscous green fluid from
the deep slashes the adults had carved into its yielding flesh during the long
struggling decent.  
It was dead now, or so thoroughly paralyzed by the poison from the mucus
coating the adults skin that its nervous system would never work properly
again, that was easily apparent. So as the adults slowly hovered over the
motionless body, with their tentacles hanging down loosely and their upper
bodies parallel to the ground, she was filled with a sort of nameless feeling,
of joy mixed with ravenous hunger.
The feeling only increased as her mother reached up with two of her six
tentacles and touched the twin clusters of eggs that were strung from behind
her eyes on either side of her flanks, relaxing the strongly muscled skin folds
that had kept them hanging there while they slowly developed over the past few
months, as the organic glue that helped keep them attached suddenly dissolved.
She and her many siblings were lowered gingerly onto one of the deep gashes in
the almost fluffy flesh, touching down with nary a jostle to her inside her
egg.
Immediately she understood what came next, and she frantically twisted her own
form to face the flesh beneath her through the transparent membrane of her
prison, attacking the thin layer of moist tissue in a bid to free herself
directly into the nutritious flesh beneath her.
Finally after what felt like far to long she sliced a tiny hole in the casing
with her radula, and she slithered through the new opening bonelessly, eager to
get a taste of real flesh. As she burrowed into the carcass, she began
tunneling, she wanted to get as close to the center as possible.
Their parents would defend the area for a short while, but it would be
imperative to be as far away from the outside of the body as possible. While it
was not terribly likely that something would stumble upon them here, on a high
frozen mountain peak at the very bottom of the world, it was also far from
impossible.
You didn’t want to be in the outside flesh if something did come along, at
least until you were ready to take off yourself…
                                       S
Mother was close, and she knew it, though she couldn’t see it. She could feel
it in the motions of the icy pitch-black water, feel the unspeakable size of
her proctors body, so large that it had once convinced the bipeds of the
surface world that their was but one of their kind which wrapped itself around
the circumference of the world’s oceans.
Of course mother was not that large and not even close, but it was the
difference between impossibly large and merely soiling one’s self at the very
sight large.
She was tiny compared to mother having just emerged from the silt that her egg
case had been buried in. Then as the row of bio-luminescent patches that lined
her mother’s jaws banished the darkness at the feeling of her child emerging
from the silt of the far deep trench, she understood just how great the size
difference was as the lights stretched off into the darkness as far as the
shadow’s would allow her to see.
She was simply titanic and as the rest of the patches flashed alight on her
mother’s tremendously long body, with the brightest light on the bulbed end of
the lure that sprouted from just behind her parent’s massive black eyes it
further reinforced their size difference.
She swam up toward that massive toothy grin as the senses on the flanks of her
elongated form felt her siblings emerging from the silt behind her, and saw
that she was not even a third the length of one of the smaller teeth between
her mother’s massive thin clear fangs.
The fin that ran the length of both  her upper and lower body slid free from
the slime that had still coated it, as she stared into the massive pools of
darkness that were her parent’s eyes.
Her mother’s gaze promised her things, that she could become another goddess of
the seas if only she was worthy enough, that she would answer to none but two
if she could reach the full majesty of her birthright.
The Father of Serpents who had fashioned them in his favor, and of the Kings
that distant God had designated to rule all of serpent kind while he himself
slumbered beneath the faraway water-less hills.
There were other stories as well, like how the foolish deep creatures, lead by
the two greatest of their number had once attempted to storm their trenches,
and the feast that ensued, of the injury she had left on the father of that
diminutive race and the frantic flight from the deepest places that their kind
had wrought in kind with the other terrible inhabitants of the darkest chasms.
Of the great battles fought with Krakens, and with the terrible shapeless
things of times long past in the inky depths of the great oceans.
She and her siblings watched the stories play out in those lightless eyes,
watching the bio-luminescent patches on their mother’s colossal length
illuminating her red scales and making them shimmer all of the colors she had
never seen but now knew well.
They ruled the seas of the north alongside their equally massive counterparts
the terrible Krake, and though they fought each other bitterly, no leviathans
swam these waters and even the mightiest of those deep ones dared not venture
here
For though Dagon and Hydra might wrestle the Humpback, her mother could swallow
the whale whole!
                                       S
It was dark in the cavern, dark and lonely. That was alright though as a king
needed no one else to survive, after all their favor came from their God
himself and he protected those few were lucky enough to be born as a King of
Serpents.
He did think it was rather a bit damp though, and that the tunnels were of a
distinctly odd shape, the pitch-black passageways had flat bottoms and straight
wall until they arched at the very top.
That was alright as the strangeness seldom entered his thoughts, as there were
plenty of mice here to eat. He didn’t even need his sight to see the scurrying
vermin anyways, as the pits on the sides of his mouth made them stand out as
though they glowed against the dimness of the stone background.
Oddly shaped for stones too when he thought about them… not smooth or flowing
like the stones in the tunnels and caverns he had emerged from his solitary egg
down much deeper beneath where he was now, not that he had any real idea how
far he had gone up as he had no way to judge the passage of time and he was
constantly slithering up and down various rat-tunnels and little passageways
further in either direction.  
His forked tongue darted out, tasting only the musty air as he entered the next
chamber, nothing but fungus and mildew were alive in the rounded new place he
had found. Not as though that was a complete guarantee he would be alone to
molt, as the last time he had done so he had found himself in the presence of
something that had no scent or heat and didn’t seem to be quite real to his
senses though it had clearly been there by the noise it made.
Either way it was too late to be picky now, and he swiftly found a large stone
near the far wall that seemed to have fallen free from the ceiling, and he
quickly began the process of shedding his chafing tight  scales.
It was slow work even though he was now a great deal more experienced than he
had been the first few times, having done this almost a dozen times by now, but
the pale white skin still only sloughed off with a great deal of scraping and
frustration on his part.
In fact it took so long and consumed so much of his attention that he
completely missed the fact that something that had never happened to him before
was occurring.
From beyond his chamber, the tunnel he had come from slowly began to illuminate
for the first time in his entire life, and an unfamiliar muttering noise could
be heard.
He was so focused in fact, that only the loud shout alerted him to the fact
that he was no longer alone in the little room.
Freshly freed from his old scales he reared up at the large warm shape which
stood before him, mindful that he was not tall enough to quite achieve half of
this new figures height, letting out a hiss that had always sent even the
largest rats fleeing before him at the noise and instinctively rolled back the
blackened second eyelid to gaze in terrible emerald upon the being that had
disturbed him.
There was a choking sound just before his eyes opened for the first time, and
he smelled fear on his tongue as he gazed at the cowering thing.
It had four limbs like a rat, but had only moments before been standing
completely erect on only two of them, and though it had fallen and was
scrambling back through the passage with the legs it had been astride moments
earlier. Racing backwards on it’s rear with the upper limb not holding a small
light emitting object curiously shielding its head from him, hiding its eyes
from his gaze.
He hissed again, resisting the urge to even bother wasting to spit venom at the
retreating form as the figure vanished back into the darkness only a moment
later anyways.
At any rate he needed to find a place to hide for a while as his scales
hardened anyways. So he slid across the strange chamber and back into the
stranger tunnels, swiftly slithering down into a tunnel he knew would quickly
lead him deeper into the darkened maze.
                                       S
It waited singing, eternally patent, eternally potent, in the dark under depths
beneath the mouth of the holy river. His siblings were with him and sung the
same tune, as well as their All-Father, dwelling in the darkness on their
mission here.
They would wait past the end of the world it that was what it took to finish
their song, they were blessed beyond such calamities anyways, not as terribly
mighty as the wide-jaws of the far northern oceans, or destined to rule like
their younger favored brother’s who slid through and across the base earth.
No, they had a greater mission, a greater song to sing. It was a task that they
would patiently wait until the stars died if that was how long it took to
prepare for, though only their All-Father knew the tune and words to this new
song that they were to someday sing, only he knew the rhythmic motions that
would set the dance into motion.
While He rested in the silty deep, they sang the old song that had been gifted
to them before any memory could recall.
So it would wait in the silt and the shadows beneath the mouth of the river,
dancing and singing with it’s siblings until such a time as their terrible
progenitor sought fit to awaken and coil forwards again and begin a new song. A
new harmony to set a new dream into motion.
It would wait, patient, and potent…
                                       S
To gaze in every direction would be disorientating for most creatures, there
were few beings to be blessed such a form birth with such perfect hexagonal
symmetry, but he managed it as easily as returning to the water to wet his book
lungs.
Not that their was any shortage of water here, beneath the great red sun, where
Bone Trees reached up many dozens of times his height with their moss encrusted
branches.
He scuttled over a mound of blue fern-moss, gazing cautiously in all directions
for a moment at the apex, before darting back into the sand patches beneath the
branching undergrowth mindful of his still pale coloration possibly standing
out on the brightly colored ground-cover plants.
The sand in various depressions would blend better anyways, and made it easier
to track water as he was quickly led to a small ravine whose course he was
forced to follow for some time before he found a slope gentle enough for him to
descend without risking toppling over. Small of course being relative for a
being only on its third ever molt, but it was far deeper than would have been
needed to cover him five or six times over.
Unfortunately the ravine was completely dry, but that was of no great concern
to him, he could simply follow the down-slope as fast as his six legs could
carry him and he knew he would be upon his objective in due time.
He was proven right, as after only a short period of time he came across a much
wider ravine with a small stream of water trickling down the center of it.
The water was not cool, but it was nice to be able to splay his legs and lower
his underside into the wetness. Letting the mouth-parts at his very center take
small sips of liquid from the stream to wet his lungs.
He also directed a smaller amount to his stomach. He didn't need to drink much
thanks to his tough exoskeleton, but it was nice to have a sip every now and
then.
Then, three of his six eyes caught a glimpse of motion in the canopy of Bone
Trees. Something was moving among the branches, hiding cleverly behind the long
drooping streamers of blue moss.
He froze, slowly and slightly angling his body to see further above than his
normal vision range would allow.
The creature in the tree was easily identified now that it was more than a blur
of motion, simply a trilateral branch swinger... not dangerous but curious
nonetheless.
Those were slightly rare, at least based on the small amount of time he had
been alive, as he had only ever seen five of them. It was of course still
possible that he had simply never been in an area they frequented, but he was
confident in his assessment.
It wasn't to say that he was haughty about that assumption, his ganglion
nervous system wasn't programed for such a complex emotion, but he could easily
review his past experiences and unerringly return to his conclusion.
That it could be based on inconclusive data never occurred to him.
This observation was followed by a great gust of wind, which whistled eerily
through the holes in the branches of the Bone Trees. It carried on it the scent
of unknown predators and made his book lungs shiver where the rest of his form
could not.
Something was coming, something he had never encountered before but which
instinctively sent him scrambling from the warm shallow little stream as fast
as his six legs could carry him. Moving into a "run" which allowed his form to
skitter across the ground in a straight line as opposed to the spinning
movement he would normally use to maneuver more nimbly through the dense
undergrowth.
As he reached the wall of the ravine there was a clamoring in the loose forests
under-story plants, the sort that didn't match the wind and could have only
been caused by something at least many times his size moving through the
branching plant life.
A shadow passed over the fat red sun, blotting out the light as a terrible
predator approached the ravine and he sunk rapidly into the sandy soil in
response, flexing the muscles that controlled his ring of eyes to point them
straight up, hoping quietly that he would be overlooked by the towering
creature as some sort of odd little plant.
Four long and flexible limbs stretched down to pad the loamy soil, each
dividing into four toes just before the end of each limb. The boneless legs
stretched up, and up, and up, many times his height, to the point where he was
forced to wonder if the monster was actually as tall as the trees.
It was a terrible visage with a great bag-like head of mottled flesh that had
four many -lobed eyes evenly spaced around its circumference, and a set of four
brutally barbed tentacles hanging down from just beneath where its legs
connected to its terrible form.
He could see between the lashing tentacles and the chitinous beak snapping
aimlessly in mindless hunger, as it strode over the part of the gully he was
planted into the sand in, towering almost directly above him as its long legs
easily allowed it to stand astride both sides of the embankment at once.
He did not move, did not dare to even breath while the titan stood above him,
as he could see a ring of four minor eyes surrounding the mouth. The were
obviously not nearly as developed as the ones around the head's equator, but it
didn't take much to see movement.
It stood there for a moment and for a terrible second he imagined that it had
spotted him and was about to see fit to devour him, never mind that something
as small as he was wasn't even worth a morsel to a creature so much larger, but
then it sinuously strode into motion again. Rapidly leaving his little canyon
behind as it went away in search of a worthy meal.
His heart's still pounded long after the monster had gone, in his head it had
been his closest call yet as he had sat motionless and partially buried beneath
the sand directly beneath the Lashing Strider.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the shaking of the ground finally
stopped. He waited for a moment, trying to stay as still as he could as he
slowly readjusted his eyes back to their normal horizontal positions, before
finally slowly unburing himself from the sand.
Another breeze blew down the length of the crevasse as he slowly wound his way
back up the side of the ravine, nearly a thousand body lengths from where he
had first descended into the riverbed.
As he reached the lip of the ravine and again scrambled across a thick crusting
of blueish moss he scrambled for the undergrowth, finding real or imagined
safety beneath the branching ground-cover.
He had had enough surprises for one day, and he nearly rolled forward in his
haste to reach the safety of a Bone Trees branching roots.
A meal would have been nice, but seeing as he had nearly been one himself he
decided to let self-preservation have the greater say today.
For now he would dig himself a little cup in the sand and sleep among the
massive roots.
                                       S
They were as one, though they shared numerous forms, they knew only one mind
and only one will.
Besides the desert was a dangerous place at the best of times, and there was
safety in numbers.
Fifty eyes covered more than a single pair ever could alone, watching for owls,
eagles and snakes as they hopped across the shifting sands in search of
sprouts, loose grain, or exposed insects.
They had been searching for most of the morning, nearby a rocky outcropping
which had yielded them nothing but a very close call with a large snake, which
was thankfully avoided if just barely.
Now they were passing through an area coated in small bushels of very dry
grass, nothing which would provided any real food value but the cover was nice.
Then a squeak echoed up from a member on the outskirts of their host, as
something large and worm-like shifted beneath the shifting sands.
The scaleless serpent rose from the sand with a ferocious lunge and they
scattered in response, two-dozen furry forms leaping into the air on long
slender legs as the nearest member of their host nimbly dodged the worm's trap-
like jaws.
The sound of a failed ambush echoed across the desert with a loud snap, the
bladed mouth-parts slashing at air and only connecting with each other.
The worm hissed and slid quickly towards a clump of their host, rising up and
spitting a jet of acid at the little group which caught the tail of one the
slower members. It squeaked in pain as the harsh fluid corroded the puff of fur
from the end of its tail, so distracted that another member was forced to push
it out of harm's way as the predator darted forward with its scythe-like mouth-
parts which came close enough to sheer off a clump of fur.
Then a gust of wind blew across the sands and a burst of loose dust and silt
temporarily hid them from the predator’s sight, and they immediately raced away
at the opportunity, collectively pleased to be able to escape while the
creature's sense of vision was blocked.
Darting rapidly up the side of a nearby rocky ridge knowing that they now
needed to get to higher ground as swiftly as possible, or barring that
possibility to firmer ground at the very least. The predator was a swift
swimmer of the sands but it couldn't slither through solid stone, and if they
could get far enough away from it they could lose its tracking ability.
The host split into three groups at the top of the ridge for extra caution,
ducking and leaping quickly through a patch of dry scrub a the hilltop as they
rushed down the other side of the rocky mound
A flightless owl of some sort darted out of cover and across the sand towards
their third column as they reached the bottom of the hill, its long legs
sending it sprinting rapidly towards them.
The group scattered again while cursing the bad luck, now towards each other as
they broke into loose formations, the columns dashing between hopping rapidly
towards each other's path as the owl slid to a stop in confusion. The target
rich environment giving it pause long enough that they could dart back into the
relative safety of the undergrowth.
There would be food here, once they lost the owl of course, they could start
gathering extra food for the icy desert night.
Even if pickings were thin though, it wouldn't be long now before the giants
passed through this part of the desert again, with their strange unfamiliar
beasts carrying their cargo across the desert, perhaps they would stop and set
up their tents nearby. Now that would be a feast when they were all asleep!
That was not the now though, and now they were still ducking the unusually
persistent owl, as the bird simply refused to give up like it would have
normally. Screeching loudly as it chased them, calling to others of its kind
that might have been nearby to join in the hunt.
The bird had been had though, as they had been darting ever closer to the
network of tunnels their host had dug out earlier. Into the cool darkness of
the burrows, and away from potential death.
A chorus of screeching calls from the direction they had been heading dashed
that hope, as it became apparent that the birds had been setting a trap between
here and home, as three more owls darted from the scrubby grass patch ahead of
them and onto the hot sand.
Sand flew into the air as they darted around desperately, ducking and dodging
when the birds lept into the air on their long legs, using their wings to guide
them down towards singled out members of the host.
A mental shock-wave hit them as the first of their group went down without even
a squeak, claws slicing through its flesh like butter as the bird that had been
following them made a successful pounce.
One of the downsides to a collective mind was the collective pain, the fact
that it would be shared was balm but not much. Several of the host tripped
slightly as the aftershock hit them, with one of that branch nearly being
pounced himself.
Now though there was blood on the sand, and that would attract even more
problems, this needed to end quickly. There were four owls and now twenty four
of them, the group could survive as long as a single member remained to
perpetuate it, but another three losses was not exactly an ideal solution to
their current problem.
They were replaceable at the end of the day though, not that it was anywhere
near nightfall, and so a sacrifice would have to be made and made smartly.
The single member of the group that had been injured by the acid earlier darted
between two of the remaining owls and promptly pretended to trip on the sand as
it landed its hop, both birds noticed and darted towards each other and the
sacrificial lamb between them.
The host raced to escape while the four birds turned to squabbling over their
unfortunate victims, darting into dark holes and into the tunnels beyond.
It was dark and finally safe, today’s gathering had gone fantastically poorly,
with the loss of two members while their number was still small enough that
such things might end in disaster. They could not afford to go extinct, not
now, not after they had finally awoken to the concept of higher thoughts than
just mating, eating, and fleeing from predators, to what they could potentially
be if they could last long enough.
They had looked upon the mighty giants with gleaming eyes when they had first
had the veil torn from before their vision, seen the wealth and splendor the
giants had made for themselves, the loyalty they commanded in the massive
beasts and the swift guard-dogs, and for the first time in an unbroken line
back to the primitive creatures that crawled out from the mud that connected
them to the giants themselves they knew envy… and admiration.
They wanted to be like that, to assemble themselves into a great host and build
something mighty, something to impress the upright walkers who had mastered the
lands as far as they knew them in every direction.
Already they were practicing, scribbling imitations of their symbols onto the
tunnel walls and weaving patterns in the dry grass, it was a small start but it
was something and that was all they needed now.
Soon the host would grow, they would bounce back from today’s defeat and maybe
someday even learn to master the owls and the terrible sand-worms.
“Grow fruitful and multiply, then go forth and subdue the earth.” Had been the
message giving to their freshly awoken minds by whatever being had seen fit to
give such lowly creatures as they such an amazing gift.
They would not let their mysterious benefactor be disappointed.
                                       S
The time had finally come, now she would ascend into the sky and begin her
journey to less desolate skies.
Or at least that is what she would do if she could ever manage to get out of
her own chrysalis!
She was squishy and light, and the outer layer of the chrysalis was tough and
rock-like to help her blend in from predators, or her own murderous siblings if
they had happened to come by when they crawled worm-like from the stripped and
desiccated corpse that had served as their food and shelter for the past
several months.
She scraped and scraped against the shell with her radula, slowly making
headway as the barrier was slowly worn down, until finally there was a tiny
cracking sound and part of the shell broke open.
She used her newly formed tentacles to grip at the edges with the tiny hooks
that lined them, she slowly and laboriously pried her shelter open, and after a
few moments there was another crackling sound as several large sections broke
free or bent out of the way.
Free now as she slid bonelessly to splat wetly on the cold stone, but she
understood that she was still extremely vulnerable as she crawled slowly away
from the chrysalis and out onto the rocky ground. Her six eyes, clumped in sets
of three on either side of her head, extended on their eye-stalks to take in
her surroundings as her tentacles dragged her away from the now empty case.
The area of stone was littered with small clumps of boulders, but thankfully
seemed empty. This was a good thing, as she would be even more vulnerable as
she went through what was coming next.
She would need to wait until the small amount of bacteria in her gut produced
enough lifting gas to take off of the ground. A process she instinctively knew
would take a few hours of time, and which would leave her essentially helpless
for the processes duration.
Fortunately for her the sun was down, which would help her hide her nearly
helpless form a bit better, not that there would have been all that much to see
even if it was up as her body was still nearly entirely clear due to her youth.
However even if something did stumble along, she had a few tricks to play
should anything venture too near.
So she waited, under the moonless sky. Staring up into the heavens and dreaming
of worlds she had never visited. She knew from a sort of species memory that
there were several good hunting grounds relatively close by to this world, the
most dangerous of the two was a hot wet world closer to the star with a thick
atmosphere blanketing dense jungles and steamy seas and all three mediums were
filled all manner of fearsome things.
It had a mirror in orbit as well, a leftover gift from the long vanished race
that had made both it and the other world nearest to this one habitable.
The other world had no glimmering ring, and was frigid and cold, with a thin
air that was so difficult to fly in, that her kind were forced to rely mostly
on the currents of the aether which allowed them to travel the stars in the
first place to reach it and stay aloft there.
It was thin hunting as well seeing as it was mostly just vast desert with a
number of great canals crisscrossing the rusty red sands of the surface, their
banks littered indiscriminately with stumpy unyielding plants and jungles of
trees that were more spine than leafs.
Further out their were the gas titans of the system, and hunting there was far
too dangerous for any but the most elderly and massive of their kind. Those who
could brave the planet sized storms and the intense radiation to clash with the
massive beasts that swam those tumultuous skies.
Then, beyond even the cloud of comets the encircled the entire system there was
the final stop before leaving the solar system, a small indigo titan even
smaller than any other of the gas giants, lay a dark and brooding gas world
that they could inhabit. It was cold, it’s clouds only filled with smaller
creatures and a few silver thread-like “plants” that fed on the relatively
scarce radiation which boiled up from deep beneath the clouds.
This world was not their home planet, but it had been the first outpost their
species had found when the long hibernating ancestors had drifted quietly from
the the vastness of space and...
A sound broke her from her revery, something skittering nearby, and her eyes
swung all around her in search of the culprit.
A smallish crab-like creature emerged from behind a nearby rock, it’s tough
exoskeleton a mottled white and black, and it’s pair of pincers opened and
closed nervously in tune with the workings of its complex mouth-parts.
It didn’t seem to have spotted her as it slowly skittered forward on its pointy
legs, its short eye-stalks slowly scanning the snow and stone. She was still
very glad she had dragged herself away from the chrysalis though as it
approached the empty shell curiously, or at least as curiously as something of
its probable intelligence level could ever achieve, gingerly picking up the
discarded case with a single claw before waving it around pointlessly.
If she had been capable of signing in irritation she would have, but instead
the twin tubes which ran from the tip of her head to their openings between her
tentacles merely rippled tickling the oxygen absorbing cilia lining them.
The sound that emerged was more of a hiss which was not nearly as loud as she
would have liked, but she would have to take what she could get at this point.
If the little crab had noticed the noise, it certainly made a good showing of
hiding it.
It was not a huge threat to her anyways, only being a relatively small crab
maybe a third her bodies new size, but that was hardly the important part. Her
form was soft, and getting softer as she slowly inflated the hundreds of tiny
sacks and false veins which littered her form to make it lighter.
It was however still getting closer to her, having discarded the empty shell it
had been waving and now slowly moving in her direction. She hissed again,
moving to catch its attention by waving the outer eight of her tentacles half-
limply.
The creatures eye-stalks retracted for a moment as it stared at her mostly
transparent form, clicking it’s claws, perhaps in some deep ingrained fear of
things with tentacles.
She gave another hiss, dragging deeply into her instincts and creating a few
skittering lines if illusionary lightning to shoot across the gaps between her
ever lightening tentacles.
The detritivore did not appear impressed by the trick, and actually moved a few
paces closer at her display. This was sort of a problem, as her slime would do
nothing against the armored carapace, leaving her with only two options and she
did not really have the spare energy reserves at the moment to afford to use
the one guaranteed to succeed.
Which left her at a crossroads, not that she knew or understood what a
crossroad was, but she really didn’t want the creature to come any closer.
She waited as it slowly crept forward in curiosity or hunger, spreading her
limbs out and preparing her last real shot at defense, and then as it closed
within four of her body lengths she struck.
A thin stream of glowing mist shot from the little nozzle situated between her
twin breathing tubes, darting between the spread flower of her arms and
striking the crab dead in the center of it’s body.
The creature immediately scrabbled back, falling onto its backside in shock as
the sticky half-liquid, half-mist, half-webbing splattered it in the face. It
was unlikely that it would hurt the creature unless it decided to try and eat
the stuff, despite the fantastic toxicity of the glowing chemicals she had
coated it with, but it was proving to be a perfectly adequate distraction as
she continued to lighten even more.
The timing was perfect as a huge gust of wind hit the cliff-side as she
approached the critical state on neutral buoyancy, and she was immediately
blown clear off of the mountainside.
This was both good and bad, good because she was away from the possible danger,
 and bad because she wasn’t quite light enough to fly adequately yet. When
these factors combined with her complete inexperience in controlling herself,
meant that she was having a few minor difficulties as she tumbled helplessly
through the sky.
She focused on flattening herself instinctively, noting with curiosity the
sensation of the minuscule fibers which crisscrossed every inch of the inside
of her body and contracted at her command and reshaped the tiny tubules filled
with lifting gas, and felt a pleased sensation as her body widened and
flattened accordingly.
The arrow-like fins on her mantle became rounded and flap-like, her tentacles
flattened as did her body. She extended her eyes again in all directions,
trying to gauge whether or not she was about to pancake into a cliff or spire
but nothing materialized as she was sucked between the massive chasm between
two of the the mountains.
Something gigantic revealed itself to her as she passed through the high up
canyon, an alien maze sprawled out beneath her, something left by someone long
gone. The entire scene frozen and silent but the howling of the wind and a
distant sound of unidentified whistling.
At any rate, she was high enough now that the risk of hitting anything before
she was fully buoyant was minimal, safe in the clouds above an abandoned
labyrinth she could not hope to understand. She wasn’t going in the direction
she wanted, but she had all the time in the world to get there.
                                       S
Lily Potter stood beyond the barrier of the runic array perpetuated by
Trelawney, watching with a cool interest as the various children slumbered deep
in the dreamlands while the Tonks and the Weasley twins fretted back and forth
between their many heavily intoxicated students.
In particular she was watching Harry and Violet the most closely, raising a
single red eyebrow as the patterns around her twins spun and locked before
flashing, noting with a not so small amount of amusement what their animagus
forms had turned out to be.
It seemed Albus owed her a stiff drink after all…
Her attention began to drift to the other children, passing over Draco and Dior
still undecided forms and then onto the Indian twins, then to Neville, to
Pansy, and the newest two Weasley’s, and then curiously onto the little Helen
who had captured Minerva's interest.
It seemed the eldest Matriarch’s intuition had been spot on, as Lilly could not
recall off of the top of her head having ever seen that particular rune pattern
before, and neither had Trelawney if the surprised look on the other woman’s
face had meant anything, that the girls bound younger sister had a frankly
alarmingly dense pattern was not lost on anyone in the room either.
If what she was seeing was to be believed, then this batch of students was
going to contain quite a few unexpected twists this year after all…
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Awesome, another chapter out that didn’t take months to write.
As I mentioned earlier this one might have some errors, and maybe the next
couple depending on how long all of that takes to get fixed so please bear with
me if you can, hopefully my endless well of insanity makes up for some of it.
Aside from that stuff, the animagus is another thing in the Harry Potter fandom
I’ve always sort of felt has been badly under-explored. Like most things it is
almost always an excuse to make a character special, instead of doing anything
unique or interesting with it.
For instance, I see no reason why an animagus form should only be limited to,
say, only animals which are on earth at the present moment and are completely
mundane. Why wouldn’t you end up with say, an animagus that’s been extinct for
millions of years, or is from another planet or even dimension.
I say branching out is much more interesting than not doing so.
Anyways I’d love to see if anyone can guess who’s getting what forms based on
what I’ve written here, or barring that some ideas or inspiration for some of
the characters I haven’t written about here and decided upon yet.
As always, if you want to leave a review or like that’s always awesome, but
until next time I’ll see you all then!
***** Of Plants, Potions, and Revelations *****
And we are back again, to Harry Potter and the Energumen of the Elchee, now
with the second day of classes and a new lemon!
Finally we cover the second day of classes (and an unexpected bit of fun stuff)
and again a big thanks to all my readers and reviewers, you guys are awesome!
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She awoke in an instant and panic and confusion set in immediately, everything
was wrong. Her vision was hundreds of times less vivid, missing entire color
spectrums, and everything was far closer to black than she had remembered it
being only a short time before.
Gone were the mountains, those blasted volcanic peaks of the cursed and
monstrous island which rose from the icy seas not far from the antarctic coast.
‘Literally nothing is wrong.’ The thought, more almost like a sensation really,
crawled across the surface of her mind as she tried to move limbs she no longer
possessed. The noises in her head should have been meaningless to her, and yet
their baser ideas were somehow clear as it echoed inside her.
“I-...? I… I am? Who am I?” The conclusion didn’t come, she the question was
one that  forced her to close her eyes. An action which brought fresh confusion
as they immediately snapped back open, she hadn’t been able to do that before…
had she?
She looked back, and slowly the memories of the battle at the bottom of the
world, of months of feasting and hibernating, the weeks spent hunting small
flying things above the volcanic island off the icy coasts were fading and
being replaced.
Replaced by memories of towering temples of marble, of hymnals and incense and
an endless procession of musty tomes passing before her much more limited gaze.
Cities filled with strange upright beings she had never witnessed before, four
of which flickered across her mind’s eye almost as often as the books and
scrolls did.
“Hermione.” One of the taller of the four figures made the strange noise and
pulled her focus from a text on abdominal surgery to return the moderately
impatient gaze.
And for some inexplicable reason the word stuck, repeating inside of her again
and again until the thoughts from earlier returned. “We’re Hermione! God in
Heaven are we normally this dense!” The thoughts impacted her in annoyance.
It didn’t even take a second later before everything came pouring back like
liquid bronze filling a cast, leaving Hermione feeling like she had lived at
least twice her age.
She could feel her magic crackling through her head, working diligently to sort
out which memories were actually her’s and which were from the impossibly long
and detailed dream.
She tried to sit up and immediately fell back flat into the bedding. Her second
attempt fared not a mote better as she tried to support herself with a pair of
arms which she did not possess anymore.
Her body it seemed, was not nearly as well adjusted as she had hoped it would
be after such an affair. Whenever she tried something complex as she lay there
in the dark it would respond, but not properly and never in the manner she had
intended it to.
It was frustrating to say the very least, so she took to observing her
surroundings in place of trying to perform any motions more complex than moving
her eyes.
The first thing she could tell was that she was laying on a padded surface, one
deep enough that she could not feel whatever might have been under it. Above
her was what felt like a weighted blanket, laying heavy but loosely over her
previously sleeping form.
That might have contributed to how difficult she had been finding it to move
and the analytical part of her brain appreciated the foresight, she almost
certainly could have hurt herself if she had just flopped up and tried to stand
right away.
The next thing she observed was the luminous eye of the full moon beaming down
through the large multifaceted skylight of the dorms main room, she had been
placed just past where the shadow of the boy’s platform had fallen with the
moon at its zenith in the vault of the sky.
The moon gave her some measure of comfort, it was something that both of the
twin sets of memories she was currently trying to disentangle had experienced,
something shared that she could count on to level herself if one side was
getting too much focus and reality started to twist again.
As she stared at the moon she could hear breathing, the other girls had
obviously been brought back as well and seemed to be all around her. Hermione
chanced out impulsively, following the threads of magic flowing from her core.
The first connection was the fastest by far and was also the most expected, as
she could clearly recognize the way Melody was breathing from the younger
girl’s position next to her.
It was her other connection that took far longer than it seemed like it should
have, the thread seeming to twist this way and that through the impossible maze
of geometry that made up Hogwarts, finally seeming to stop somewhere in what
was probably one of the towers of the citadel.
A feeling of surprise echoed back to her, followed by a pleased sensation of
dampness which seemed to take much longer than she thought it would to reach
her. With Tonks seemingly having to stop at several points before resuming in
her rapid movement through the castle.
Then, as she felt the teenager close the final gap, she say the shadows in the
room darkened significantly. The darkness below the boy’s platform deepening
until she could no longer see the trunk or anything behind it.
Then the clumsy and perverted shape-shifter emerged from the shadows, nearly
tripped over the body of a slumbering girl, immediately causing the gloom to
recede back to its natural level.
Unlike the last time she had disturbed the teen late at night, Tonks was
grinning in a pleased manner down at her. She took a moment to examine the rest
of the sleeping students with a pulse of magic Hermione felt in her chest
before kneeling down next to her.
“Wotcher Mione!” The teen whispered down to her excitedly, copying the nickname
Melody had used yesterday.
She didn’t trust herself to be able to give anything more than slurs at the
moment, so she settled for trying to express her annoyance at being drugged for
the second! time in a twelve hour period through eye contact alone.
This just made Tonks grin wider. “Did I not tell you that you were in for a
wild ride?” The teen asked her rhetorically, before moving to brush a stray
frizzle from Hermione’s face.
“Think of it this way, you and Draco both have been causing a heck of an uproar
tonight.” She informed Hermione with a smug look. “Took us hours to find the
reference to your runic array, and we still haven’t found anything on his
animagus form. By the way, way to pick a hell of a strange one.” She finished
with a snort. “Your sis too.”
“And yeah, I’d advise you get some rest.” Tonks’s face softened as she said
that. “Your going to be pretty dissociated for an hour or two longer.”
The oldest of her Esquires stood back up to her full height. “Your better off
just going back to sleep rather than trying to studying now.” She poked her in
the ribs with her foot. “And if you insist on being stubborn then just review
the dreamquest you had until you pass back out, but don’t say I didn’t warn
you.” She finished with a mysterious little grin, before fading back into the
swiftly pooling darkness.
S
Tonks returned the raised eyebrow Minerva shot her with a grin, taking in the
sheer volume of power in the room with her normal level of carelessness. “An
early riser Minnie.” She explained to the woman, who scowled slightly at the
nickname before grinning widely.
“I had surmised as much Nymphadora.” The elder witch let her hated first name
ooze from between her lips as she took a sip of her tea.
“I walked right into that one didn’t I?” She muttered as her teachers lips
quirked subtly.
Then Hagrid gave her a friendly pat on the back that nearly sent her sprawling.
“Turnabout is fair play lassy.” He says with a singsong note in his voice as
she followed the half-giant into the main area of the hall where everyone was
gathered.
Technically, she was supposed to be doing other things right now, but as Penny
was looking after the kids and with everyone else busy she knew she had the
time.
It was the little things like this that kept her sane anyways, just the little
get-togethers where she could relax and watch people older than her make poor
financial decisions.  
Case in point was the Lord of hair care, uncle Malfoy betting a hundred gallons
that Harry’s animagus would be something very useful but weak.
It took all of her composure and  shape-shifting abilities not to make it
unbelievably obvious that the man was about to owe Sirius a large sum of money.
She couldn’t entirely keep her core at bay though, and she noted Mrs. Weasley
smile into her tea and quietly bet in the opposite of the silver haired elder
Malfoy before giving her a wink.
Well the betting was fare as it was likely to get at any rate…
The antics of the adults in the room distracted her just enough that she had no
time to dodge the missile bearing down on her, and she turned just in time to
have her head caught in Charlie’s headlock.
As her classmate moved in to knuckle her scalp she deftly foiled him, her head
flowing like liquid from between the other teen’s muscular arms.
The red-headed boy blinked at her, ignoring a groan from one of the bystanders.
“I had honestly can’t understand how I keep forgetting you can do that.” The
second oldest of the Weasley’s sons responded. “I must be spending too much
time with the dragons…”
“Yeah, can you not do that again when I’m here…” One of the girls in the other
teens coven asks quietly. “It’s so weird to watch.”
Tonks snorted back in response, taking the mug of ale the girl offered and
downing a big swig. “Can’t help it, I just have skills.” She deftly lied and
flipped her hair through a cycle of colors.
She deftly avoided colliding with a servant girl carrying a tray of the
accursed lemon pastries their liege was always trying to foist on everyone
around him as she spun to examine the crowd, and her eyes tracked the girl
straight to the man himself.
Dumbledore stood tall, idly conversing with one of the younger teachers. His
rouge robes glittering merrily as they walked slowly through the carousing
gamblers. She turned back as she felt Charlie’s magic swirl and his brother
arrive.
Bill passed out from behind the veil and narrowly dodges a friendly punch from
his brother and giving her his best rakish grin. “Wotcher Tonks!” He grinned as
he addressed her, you just get back from an early waker too?”
She snorted at him and took a deep swig of ale. “Little bastards are definitely
more trouble this year than last.”
Now it was his turn to snort. “I’d heard you got the special bunch this year
too, anything I should know about when they start doing party adjustments?” He
probed her curiously.
As if she needed another headache. “Gods damn you ya bastard!” She groaned at
him and resisted the urge to massage her forehead by taking another long draw
from her mug. “The last thing I want to think about tonight is work that
doesn’t need to be done for weeks.”
“Besides, we all know Tonks is going to be getting all of the good prospects
anyways.” Flint’s rough tone grumbled out from behind her. “What with her
having our Liege’s little pet project and all…”
This was not the conversation she wanted to be having, and she turned and gave
him a glare that told him exactly that.
He grinned back at her, that particular subject had been the topic of
conversation in the upper years nearly the entirety of the previous day. “At
least you won’t be getting the rejects and the castaways.” He grumbled out,
tipping a leather flask of something that was probably whiskey back and taking
a swig.
Then Charlie and Bill swept up behind her, providing the reinforcements. “Tonks
likes the charity cases if you hadn’t forgotten. It’s kinda her specialty.”
Bill interjected as another servant girl ducked past there little group. “I
mean, after first year that is…” He trailed off awkwardly at Tonks’s raised
eyebrow, and she ignored Flint’s new blush.
They hadn’t been in her group, Flint a year younger than her and Charlie and
Bill to old, but they had heard stories about her first year. Lots of stories
about her first year.
Unfortunately she had no time to stew in her emotions…. Explosions tended to
prevent that.
Fred and George ran past her freshly prone form as glitter and paper streamers
descended from the skies, and she took the moment to take a sip of her
defiantly unspilled mug of ale and shoot them a death glare. Not that she
needed to, as they weren’t looking at her and Molly had come around one of the
rooms pillars with fire in her eyes and a bar of soap somehow in her hand.
“Fred! George! You two are in so much trouble!”
Flint stood up first, rolling his eyes at the familiar antics of the pranksters
and brushing the confetti and glitter from his robes. “You’d think they’d have
learned about trying shit while their mother’s around after they got through
the first bar of soap.” He griped, shooting Bill and Charlie a look. “So which
one of you was that aimed at?”
Bill groaned and combed glitter from his hair as he stood back up, having
caught the worst of it with the magical bomb going off essentially in his
chest. “I’d say that one was for me, bloody Hel if I know what I did to have
that coming but at least I’m all the same proportions.” He blinked owlishly.
“I’m all still normal right?” He asked, taking a moment to look down at his
personage.
Then his entire body flashes blue. “Fear not, your Jonson is still right where
you left it Mr. Weasley.” Came the coolly displeased tone of Madam Pomfrey as
the woman closed in on them after ending her diagnostic spell. “At least it
wasn’t a potion this time, it took me hours to get your brother’s head back to
its normal color.”
The teenager snorted at that. “I warned Ron that something like that would
happen, if he and Rachel kept bugging them. He should just be happy about the
fact that it was only a color changing potion this time.”
That was a blessing if only a tiny one that he had been hit by something so
tame. As even while the twins were not liked by Snape, due to passing with high
marks they were allowed to create experimental potions. They were not supposed
to be testing them on people… but as long as the bat-like potions Master didn’t
catch them in the process they usually got away unscathed.
And as the man himself entered her field of view she connected the dots quite
quickly.
Snape closed on their blasted apart pow-wow with his cape billowing, eyebrow
raised as he held out a hand and pulled a servant girl from the ground with a
nod to Pomfrey. “Unusual amount of scatter, usually they are at the very least
precise with their nonsense.” He grumbled as Tonks pulled herself up from the
ground. “At any rate it is time to begin the revealing of forms and the
exchanging of gold Esquire Tonks, and as you have the results and the twins are
currently being harried by their mother the duty now falls to you.”
Sinistra and Trelawney having retired exhausted for the evening already meant
that the only person to have seen the arrays, who were not currently in full
retreat, would be her.
She sighed and downed the rest of her mug in several large gulps, then took in
Snapes visage. “Alright, let’s just get this over with.” She finished,
resisting the urge to flick his hooked nose as Charlie and Bill wandered off
arguing with Flint.
The she laughed to herself. “I’ll not say much but I’ll say this, your godson
has got the be one of the weirdest I’ve seen yet.” She informed the man as they
started moving towards where Dumbledore had taken his seat as the hall prepared
for the news.
Her lords wrinkled face brightened with a smile when he saw her, blue eyes
twinkling merrily in the mood of the night. “Lovely to see you this evening
Esquire Tonks.” He spoke warmly as she approached and bowed at the waist, Tonks
noting irritably as a brightly colored streamer feel free from her head at the
gesture of deference.
“I see you’ve been caught in Fred and Georges latest attempt to convince their
mother to skin them alive.” The smooth Contralto of the oldest surviving Potter
catching her ear as she stood back to full height.
Lily was, as always a sight to behold. Dressed in a vibrantly crimson robe that
hugged her naturally Aphrodite level body, and with a purple fringed cloak to
let everyone who didn’t already know it how important the youngest of the
matriarchs was.
Another bow which was waved off amicably. “I figured you’d be getting here
soon.” She said, a grin spreading across her heart shaped lips. “I’ve been
meaning to talk to you in person about Harry and Violet.”
Another conversation she didn’t need or desire at the moment. “I can tell you
they were apparently going at it like bunnies in the bathroom yesterday, I can
say that provided I don’t figure out a solution soon either Hermione or your
daughter is going to murder each other…” She blinked. “That second sentence was
totally deformed wasn’t it?”
Lily smirked at her, snatching a glass of wine from the tray of a passing
servant. “I go the picture, Tyrant cores tend to not get along very well.”
She chuckled at that. “That’s putting it mildly, otherwise I’d say she’s a
perfect pick to be the head of Harry’s coven. That said, I don’t even want to
try and think of how much trouble we would have to go through to stabilize that
bond.”
That got a chuckle out of Lily as well as the woman took a sip of wine.
“It can be done Nymphadora, you yourself are proof of that.” Came yet another
voice from behind her, refined and cool, but the woman’s tone was welcoming.
She turned halfway. “Cissy.” She shot back in the same direction Minerva had
used before.
Her aunt gave her a small smile, sipping her own wine to match Lily’s. “I don’t
think I would want to put them through that kind of crap, just the physical
stuff alone can be Hel, to say nothing of how that would affect them
emotionally.”
Her aunt closed in on the conversation, throwing a free arm around her
supportively. “You got through it just fine and you know it.” She stated with
knowing authority.
Now it was her turn to snark. “I am almost entirely indestructible. Hermione is
about as far from that as possible… emotionally or otherwise.”
Both of the older women nodded understandingly, there were some things better
left unsaid around potentially prying ears. ‘The walls have eyes after all,
sometimes not so metaphorically in this particular castle...’
S
It was with a good deal of trepidation that Harry awoke that morning, he had
known Violet had done something very obviously hypocritical last night, not
that such behavior was terribly unusual for her… He idly wondered if it was
punishment for his no longer so new temporary bond Blaise, but dismissed the
notion. She would have done something far more bold if it had been that simple.
There was also some confusion, cloudy distant memories fogged his mind which he
couldn’t quite remember, like a dream which was already being forgotten as he
awoke.
It left him with a vague feeling of limblessness, but was completely devoid of
the helplessness such a feeling should have instilled. Instead he felt
empowered, a vague notion of having been blessed in fact, though he could no
longer remember why.
He opened his eyes slowly to see the black fabric of the tent he had occupied
previously was not there which added more confusion, instead he was looking up
at the glass panes of the dorm’s skylight with a dim sunrise tinting the black
of the sky in dark purples and indigos.
That might have explained why his twin was not currently trying to shove her
tongue down his throat in jealousy, but he had no idea whatsoever why he would
have ended up sleeping here, and he pulsed his core instinctively to gave his
surroundings further form.
Violet and Pansy were on either side of him and both felt like they were
sleeping, Draco was on the other side of Pansy and was dimly taking in his
bearings as well.
“Potter…” The other boy hissed to him sleepily. “What the Hel happened to us?”
He asked vaguely. “It feels like my brain wants to look through my bloody
head!” The last part was said in an increasingly indignant tone.
“Honestly, your guess is as good as mine.” He replied quietly. “I remember the
Esquires being vague about what we were supposed to be doing with all of that
stuff and then everything goes fuzzy.” He chanced moving his head and was
pleased to note it did not fall off like it felt it might.
Draco looked to be trying to sit up, and was failing repeatedly. “Bastards
weighted the bloody blanket too! Probably to add insult to injury!” His friend
rambled quietly, only to receive a limp smack in his face from Pansy’s pale
hand.
“Will you kindly shut the fuck up.” The bony black-haired girl grumbled in
irritation.
“Ow, damnit Pansy!” He cried. “I need that!”
“I’d say the other end has your best feature.” Came the tired shot from Violet.
Draco responded with a groan of irritation. “Forget it, I’m going to take a
bath, who’s with me!”
Harry allowed himself a sigh. “We’ll have to get the blanket off first… On
three?”
The countdown went better than expected, and the blanket sloughed off despite
the little sown in packets of sand weighing it down.
He stood, on extremely uncertain legs and watched as Draco promptly spun and
flopped back down. “Did you two forget how to walk?” Pansy asked, staring in
confused irritation behind where he was standing, which was followed by Violet
letting out a squawk as she fell into the blanket as well.
“Something’s off with my ballance.” Came Draco’s reply as he helped his twin
stand back up, noting curiously how her legs were fumbling even worse than his
as he felt us arms go half-numb for a moment.
Almost like the weren’t there…
They barely made it to the stairway, having to avoid falling back down or
tripping on their other sleeping classmates, but in the end they did manage to
get there if only barely.
“You guys can barely walk without falling over, how on earth do you plan to get
down the stairs?” Pansy asked unhelpfully, her raised eyebrow  shifting her
bangs and casting half of her face into shadow in the low light.
Draco ran a hand through his birds nest of bedhead in response, grumbling
quietly beneath his breath about his hair.
“You are such a girly boy.”Violet commented with a smirk.
The blonde glared at her in response. “I ought to trip you.” He shot back as
they started cautiously down the floating staircase.
“But you won’t cause my brother’d kick your ass.” She responded far too
cheerfully for the early hour of the morning.
“It occurs to me suddenly that these stairs are dangerous as heck.” Pansy cut
in with her comment. “You’d think they’d at least have the courtesy to put in a
guard rail.”
This time Draco raised his eyebrow. “I’m sure there's some charm or something
on the stairway to keep people from falling off.”
Harry didn’t even have to turn and look at her face, didn’t need their bond to
feel the smile on his sister’s face. “I say we test it!”
He killed the idea swiftly and without mercy. “No Vi. No pushing are burgining
allies off of high places.”
She scowled and punched his arm as Draco edged closer to the inside of the
stairwell. “Your a fun killer you know that.”
“I also know we will be in trouble if you kill our classmates.
His sister sighed dramatically as they reached the landing, where rows and rows
of girls were ringed around the “tree”. Thankfully their feet seemed to be
working properly, and Draco’s balance issue had faded to the point where he no
longer needed to lean on Pansy every thirty seconds, which made navigating this
maze of bodies even easier.
He noted subtly that several of the places in the girls blankets were obviously
empty, and pulsed his magic to distract Violet. She could make a scene when
they were at the baths, if that was where the missing girls had gone, but he
didn’t want to be responsible for waking the entire dorm up at such a visibly
early hour.
Violet for her part huffed loudly at the magic coming across their bond,
obviously suppressing a moan, and began to breath a bit more deeply as they
crossed the room to the hallway where the baths were located.
Pansy also stifled a squeak, before turning back to shoot him a glare he could
barely make out in the gloom, letting him know that he hadn't quite used as
much control as he had thought he had done.
Fortunately, none of the other girls woke up, and none of them moaned in their
sleep though he noticed several sighs and a few with increased breath and
flushed faces.
Violet would not have taken that well, he knew that for a fact, and as he
slipped down the hallway he suppressed a slight smirk.
He didn’t know it yet but his magic echoed with the desire to ensnare new
mates, whether he had to do it by force or not. The urge was subtle, and still
very young, as he had been isolated with his twin for so long that it was used
to simply reinforcing his power over her regardless of if she was being
stubborn or not.
He knew none of this consciously though, only barely noticing that the door to
the bathrooms opened as they passed, revealing its wrongly shaped black maw.
“Ok, either of you two even know how to turn the lights on?” He whispered to
Draco and Pansy, less loudly than before as they were away from most of the
sleeping ears.
Draco shrugged as the hallway twisted again. “There should be night time lights
on I’d imagine, they come on in the bathrooms if they aren’t already on…” He
trailed off as they reached the entrance to the bathing area  and noticed the
portal to the showers was open and  dimly emitting light.
“Looks like someone beat us here.” Pansy said in a low whisper as they all sort
of clumped up, her and Draco backing towards Violet and himself unconsciously.
Draco gave him a look before shooting the shower room a suspicious glance. “A
better question is why they decided to use the showers instead of the bath?”
His sister snorted. “Who cares, I can kick their ass either way.” Then she
marched up to the waterfall at the mirror end of the hall and tossed her robe
onto the floor uncaringly. The she turned back to Draco and Pansy, unashamedly
nude with her hands on her freckled hips and an imperious look on her face.
“Well?”
Draco and Pansy both blinked at her display, as though they should still be
surprised by her brash behavior after all of the time they had spent with the
pair over the past few days.
Harry for his part was unfazed by her boldness, being so completely used to it
by now that it didn’t even surprise him. “I think I’ll check out the showers,
I’ll be back in a minute.”
His trio of companions barely paid his departure any mind, with his twin simply
sitting herself down under the waterfall at the far end and moaning indecently
as the hot water splashed across her back and shoulders, and Draco and Pansy
slowly undressing and folding their robes to place them in the section of
cubbies for storage.
He didn’t hear anything as he slunk into the hallway that lead to the shower
rooms, only a faint and constant noise which might simply have been the sound
of a running shower, the nighttime lighting casting his path into strange
gloomy shadows which occasionally seemed to writhe strangely when in the
corners of his eyesight.
He ignored his apprehension as he continued towards the end of the hallway, the
noise of a shower now distinctly audible.
Then as he entered the shower room he heard something new. A distinctive sharp
snapping sound, clearly from someone being slapped.
“Lick it.” A female voice hissed icely.
This order was followed by a girly snort. “My, my, what would your sister think
of this sinful behavior?” An imperious and increasingly familiar voice
responded.
Another louder slap echoed in the thin room as means of reply.
As he moved closer, quiet as a the grave, he recognized Dior’s voice. “Harder.”
She demanded smugly, unfazed by the probable abuse of her face.
“I didn’t ask you a question.” Came the reaserted demand.
The room was still very dark, but he could see a bit of light coming from
beneath the door furthest from the entrance, obviously the pair were looking to
avoid detection. Idly as he stood there he wondered who might have the braided
blonde in their grasp, his twin was still outside and that erased her from the
list, and as to what Dior had done to her current assailant to warrant such
treatment was also beyond him.
Though it was certainly possible that Dior had just asked for it…
As he was contemplating, the second voice spoke again and he finally recognized
it. “Maybe that will teach you not to take advantage of other people you
harlot.” Hermione growled, obviously speaking about some incident he had not
been witness to.
Again Dior snorted. “I didn’t make the rules to the game we must play.”
A third slap. “Then get to work or I swear to god I will drag you back to the
common room by the hair and scalp you like a Red-Skin!” The bossy Greek hissed
back in obvious anger.
He didn’t need to be a mind-reader to know this was not a situation he wanted
to interrupt, that they hadn’t sensed his presence yet was miracle enough and
he put it down to them both being distracted with each other.
Dior giggled, which was followed immediately by a loud messy slurping sound
almost like someone was french-kissing. Hermione moaned loudly. “Oooh, fuck me
you bitch! That’s the wrong fucking whole!”
Harry’s flush felt luminous, his skin turned burning hot, and he could feel his
member harden instantly. He certainly couldn’t go back to the baths like this,
Violet could be dense, but the large and very visible bulge in his robe would
make it as obvious as a lighthouse on a moonless night.
He reached out, fine tendrils of magic instead of the much faster and more
descriptive pulse, slowly winding sensors into the other shower stalls in
search of something… not quite sure what.
In the stall across from Dior and Hermione, he felt a presence. A small ball of
compacted magic, obviously trying very hard to hide itself.
He couldn’t tell if it had felt his probe or not, as he garnered no reaction,
and so he stepped closer as quietly as he could manage.
The stall was dead silent and had no light on inside, and if that meant what he
thought then whoever was inside had been very still for a very long time.
He brushed his hair behind his ear and placed his ear near the crack of the
door, then as quietly as possible he tested the handle.
There was an almost inaudible gasp as he turned the handle all the way down,
and ever so slowly he opened the door.
The light inside flicked on dimly as he swung the door open, moving out of the
way as it swung open. Immediately the stench of sweat and stale piss hit his
nose, followed by a pathetic whimpering which drew his eyes down.
Curled up in the fetal position in the far corner was a small girl with matted
dirty blonde hair. In the dim light he could see bruises, scrapes, and bite
marks littered across her skin. She also reeked of stale pee, and stiffened as
he opened the door, making another pathetic whimper and trying to curl herself
further into a ball.
She also didn’t feel familiar at all, and he idly wondered as he carefully
moved into the stall if she was part of another party and had hidden here to
hide from other girls… He would have to talk to Tonks or Penny, as while he
knew they were allowed to fight each other, the treatment she had obviously
been receiving seemed excessive for someone so visibly weak and submissive.
He found himself frowning to himself and kneeling down closer to her, allowing
the door to swing shut idly as he moved closer to see her better, pressing out
with his core to feel her out.
It was clear instantly that she had had some kind of mental breakdown, the
amount of stress and fear rolling off of her fizzy little core made that
undeniable, as did the way she would occasionally twitch or shiver at the quiet
noises he made as he moved closer to her.
Harry slowly stalked even closer to her curled up form, trying to judge if what
he was about to do was stupid or not before finally deciding to listen to his
conscience. “Hey, look at me.” He whispered to her in what he hoped was a
soothing tone.
The girl flinched and starting to sob quietly in a scratchy sort of way, she
had clearly been crying for a long time before. As she had not done as he had
asked, he shifted forward and pressed down on her with his magic.
Her breath hitched hard and she trembled before letting out a quiet moan of
pleasure and he tried again, this time physically grabbing her arms and using
his strength to pull them apart while keeping up the magical pleasure he was
feeding her. It worked, and he was able to pry them free easily, her small body
essentially limp in his arms.
The first thing he noticed was that she had a tremendous flush across her cute
little face, through the skin around her eyes was black instead where someone
had punched her in both sockets.
The sight of it made him feel angry.
“Hey, can you come back to me for a minute?” He asked her as he slowly stopped
feeding her magic, watching as focus slowly returned to her previously blank
gaze.
He had to slap his hand over her mouth to stop her yelping and alerting
Hermione and Dior, gripping her struggling naked body with one arm around her
slender waist and pulling her close heedless of the fact that she was smelled
like she had been used as somebody’s outhouse.
 It was also heedless of the fact that his robe had come undone at some point,
something he quickly noticed as his little friend poked her in the belly-button
and made her gasp into his hand. “Ok, I’m going to move my hand and ask you
some questions, and whatever you do do not scream.” He commanded her in a quiet
whisper while staring directly into her pale blue eyes and focusing his magic
to bridge the gap between her blue windows and his green. The unknown girl
swallowed thickly after a second had passed, and then slowly nodded, so he
gently took his hand off of her mouth, weary about her making a commotion.
“Now, who in Midgard are you, and how did you find this place?” As the battered
girl opened her mouth to speak he put a finger to her lips. “Quietly, mind you
we are not alone and you are obviously not supposed to be here.”
This made her whimper and tremble again, which had the effect of freeing little
Harry’s head and allowed him to pull her closer.
“S-sss-Sally…” She trailed off, squirming against him and blushing further.
“I’m Sally-Anne Perks.” Sally stammered out finally. “I’m from another dorm,
but the entrance to this one was left open during the night.” She admitted
guilty, now avoiding eye contact.
“I was hiding, b-but I suppose that must have been pretty obvious…” She trailed
off again, still not looking him in the eyes. “The girls in my dorm were
fighting all the time, to many cores with close power levels is what the
Esquire told us, and I was trying to avoid it… But Daphne caught me in the
bathrooms after we were sent back for bed, I was too weak to get away and she
attacked me. The rest of the girls who had been nearby joined in, and started
calling me awful names, spitting on me and hitting me too, and then they held
me down and after they made me eat them when they… well I’m sure you can smell
it, cause I reek.”
He didn’t really know how to respond to her, as dealing with traumatized girls
wasn’t something he had to do very often… or ever really. Violet was far from
delicate, and neither Trude or Aunt Petunia were very emotionally vulnerable
either.  
Before he could think up a response she continued. “Finally when they got bored
they left, and I just couldn’t stay there and I ran away.” She admitted,
trembling against him again and forcing him to ignore the pleasurable feeling
of her stomach against his spear.
“I’m guessing you don’t want to go back?” He whispered to her quietly, taking a
moment to brush the matted blonde hair away from her eyes. She jumped against
him, completely tense again in an instant. “NO!” She replied in a far too loud
of tone, making him wince and send a prayer to Odin that the pair in the
opposing stall where to engaged with each other to notice.
She then proceeded to squeak as she remembered his earlier warning. He just
rolled his eyes at her. “I’ll do anything…” She pleaded at him in a whisper,
her face turning in dismay. “Just don’t make me go back there!” It might have
been the urgency on her tone or her visibly abused body which finally made the
decision for him, he didn’t know, but ultimately he had known somewhere deep
down the moment he had seen her what was inevitably going to happen.
“Stand up against the wall.” He ordered her quietly, knowing the best way to
insure she could stay here.
Sally gulped hard, her eyes widening as she blinked at him in alarm. “Oh-Ok.”
He could feel her fear pulse as she slowly disentangled herself from him and
stood up on her shaking legs.
To his surprise, she presented herself to him by bracing her arms on the wall
instead of merely leaning back against it as he had expected... Not that he was
complaining obviously.
Very gently he placed his hands on her hips, shrugging off his opened robe the
moment before. He wasn’t going to need it anyways.
Leaning over her, he squeezed her sides making her gasp, and very studiously
ignored the scent in her hair as he lined her hips up. Then, giving the gods a
silent prayer that Violet wouldn’t kill him over this, he pressed his tip
against the entrance of her passage and slowly parted her tiny lips, finding
that she was bone dry as she trembled in his hands.
“This is going to hurt like Hel, just so you know.” He whispered a warning to
her, not wanting her to be unprepared and end up accidentally even more
traumatized.
Her breath hitched before she responded with a whimper. “Then hurt me as hard
as you can, just don’t let them take me back.” She half-sobbed.
That was certainly enough to get his core roaring, demanding he treat her like
he did his twin, and he had to fight to quash the urges coming to him to break
her.
Instead he took a breath to settle himself, then swung his hips forward with
all his might to get the most painful part over the fastest, slapping a hand
over Sally’s mouth to stop her from screaming out loud as he deflowered her.
Short, hot, and unbelievably tight, were his first thoughts as he crashed
through the smaller girls gates. Exploding past her defending maidenhead like
it wasn’t even there, then smashing into her cervix with almost an inch of his
dick still outside of her body.
Her entire form tensed as he did this, and he could feel her struggling to
resist a scream that would wake the entire dorm up as he pressed himself even
harder against her wombs doorway in an instinctive bid to get the rest of his
member inside her as she tensed her tunnel painfully tight around him.
Her magic rippled like water in a pond, and he could feel her violently squirm
against his chest as he wrapped himself flush against her, then there was a pop
as something gave and he slid the final inch inside as the helmet of his penis
popped inside her deepest place to crash up against the very back of that final
chamber.
Instantly he had to wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her up from behind
convenience as he felt her go limp in pain and shock, only his grip around her
waist and his penis keeping the girl standing as painful aftershocks shot
across their rapidly forming bond.
That had hurt her a lot apparently, as her magic desperately modified her
battered and frail body to give in to his raving cores demands, to do something
that it had not been made to allow naturally.
Moments passed as he waited, allowing her to become used to the feeling of him
fully inside her deepest parts while he waited for her to stop
hyperventilating.
Unfortunately when she stopped breathing so rapidly she started quietly crying
into his hand as he slowly started moving again, her breath hitching in pain
with each harsh thrust.
He stoically ignored the drool and snot running onto his hand and focused on
working himself up to the finale, not something he did easily as she was so
tight it was actually quite difficult to move and he was certain that what
little lubrication he had to work with was probably all blood and precum.
It took a few minutes of harsh and forceful jerking and sharp slapping together
of hips, but finally he managed to work a rhythm out with his thrusting as she
loosened up just the barest amount. He didn’t bottom out with every thrust
though, as her pain would echo back to him whenever he crashed all of the way
inside her and make his magic rage to rut into her even more violently.
A few minutes of sex later and she was full on sobbing into his hand and his
arm was getting sore from having to hold her limp body up but the tingling
feeling was starting in his sack.
An echo inside her head, begging with him to just cum was what finally caused
his balls to twitch for the final time. Then they jolted up and he buried his
sword to the hilt and exploded inside her womb.
His orgasm made Sally groan loudly in relief, she felt his hot cum splash
across the back of her deepest once, twice, thrice, again and again until she
felt bloated and full and she knew he was still cumming.
Harry’s magic wanted his partner to know who she belonged to, and it was
determined to fill his smaller partner to the bursting point, and maybe even
plant a seed or two at the same time.
“Can you stand?” He finally asked her in a breathy gasp after about thirty
seconds of solid ejaculation, cumming hard enough it was almost painful. His
balls and prostate certainly throbbed with deep seated tingling that kept him
twitching and hard inside her.
Sally said nothing, instead she sniffed and nodded and then unsteadily adjusted
her stance and allowed him to unwrap his arm. She nearly lost it again when it
came time for him to pull out, as he was still rock hard inside her as he tried
to uncouple their joined organs.
The finally, and with a pop, her cervix released its pained death-grip on the
head of his penis that had her pressing her full upper arms against the tiled
wall. There was another audible pop when he pulled out of her tunnel, she was
so tight he had been forced to jerk his hips back sharply to free himself from
her grasp.
“Thank you…” She finally whispered after a few seconds, her voice hoarse from
the nights events. As she turned to smile at him, her eyes twinkling in genuine
relief past the bruises around them as she nearly flopped over his shoulders
trying to give him a hug.
The tiny blonde’s response nearly had him snort. “You can’t lie to me anymore,
I know for a fact that I just pummeled the shit out of your body.” He looked
down, expecting to see a gigantic mess leaking down her legs, and what he saw
instead left him barely able to resist throwing her against the wall and breed
her into delirium and unconsciousness.
There were a few lines of red streaked down her legs, but that wasn’t what kept
him hard as a rock, no that would have been the small  but very noticeable
bulge which had appeared just above her mons.
He blinked once, twice in shock… there was absolutely no way in the world she
was not pregnant.
“I have to pee.” She said in a tiny voice drawing his gaze back to her face,
she was heavily flushed and staring at the same swelling he had been.
“It’s probably putting pressure on your bladder…” He said awkwardly.
She let out a tiny laugh. “All of the seed you put in my belly…” She trailed
off, just as awkwardly.
Harry nodded at her. “I suppose we should get you to the bathroom then.” He
answered what she had left unsaid, dreading having to walk across the bathing
area. “Unless you just want to go here.”
Unfortunately, her answer was not the one he had hoped. “I think I want to use
the toilet, something more normal after the night I’ve had.” She replied, and
he nodded in understanding. He would deal with Violet’s inevitable childishness
when he had to cross that bridge.
Idly, he wondered where she was, normally she would have probably interrupted
him by now in a fit of magically induced jealousy.
He got his answer in the worst way possible the second he swung open the door.
Standing imperiously just past the doorway was Penny, looking quite irritable
and frazzled. “Just so you know, I had to stun your sister to keep her from
just barging in her and interrupting your little party.” She informed him
coolly, giving shooting an annoyed look at both of them. “I’m sure you’ll both
have fun dealing with that when she wakes up.” The cool grin turned ever so
slightly arrogant, then the brunette did a swift about face and walked away.
So Harry said the only thing he had available to him. “Fuck!”
S
Hermione was glaring at a very amused looking Tonks as they stood in the
greenhouse, which of course only made the teen become more amused. “So, tell me
again-” She hissed at the teenager. “Why exactly an I wearing naught but a
loincloth and soaked in oil?”
Tonks opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off as Professor Sprout whacked
the back of Hermione’s head with her crystal-tipped wand and cut her off.
“Safety first deary.” Came the reply from the plump old witch, followed by a
very stereotypical cackle.
She turned and shot the woman a glare as she rubbed the top of her head
irritably. The two druggings had left her in a foul mood even after she paid
the blonde bitch back earlier, and she was angry enough that she wanted to do
it again which only made her even more angry with herself and the world.
“Well to start with, your room and board isn’t actually free, you pay for it by
working for the school during certain lessons or during free time.” Tonks
explained as Sprout strolled away to help other students. “Hogwarts does all
sorts of things actually, we have a full sized hospital, a winery and
distillery, a potions factory, we even make soap!” She exclaimed cheerfully.
This did nothing to cheer up Hermione though. “And that explains this how?” She
asked, gesturing to her exposed and generously oiled body.
“Well this is Herbology, which mostly involves learning about various magical
and mundane plants, how to care for them, what they’re used for and stuff like
that.” She explained, her hair turning a bright green. “The plant you guys are
supposed to be harvesting is pretty dangerous and sticky, hence the oil.”
“I think the plant you are supposed to be harvesting today is some kind of
giant man eating sundew…” Penny added idly as she strolled past with a bucket
of oil and a sponge.
Hermione had a vague idea of what kind of plant the younger of her two Esquires
might have been talking about, recalling a passing mention of it in the book
she had been reading before she had been so rudely interrupted.
“Now class.” Sprout interrupted her thoughts before they could turn dark again,
the light in her mind flickering on as the prospect of new information made
itself apparent. “Today we will be harvesting the secretions of one of my
favorite plants!” The woman exclaimed as they proceed to follow her onto the
metal catwalk. “Droseraceae horribilis!”
Then she had some student teachers hand out long wooden poles with scrapers on
one end and hooks on the other, which Hermione quietly didn’t think boded well
for pretty much of anything, followed by blunt tridents and empty buckets to
the other half of the class.
“Now class,” the woman continued as they began descending down the spiraling
catwalk to a lower level of the greenhouse where the shade loving plants and
undergrowth were grown, fungi were kept in the shadowy glass chambers below
this one. “Droseraceae horribilis has many useful excretions, and to day you
will be harvesting the sticky fluid used to entrap prey items so the main
tentacles can ensnare them and drag them into the digestion chamber at the
center of the leaves!”
The greenhouses, like everything at Hogwarts seemed to be, were massively over-
sized and over-complicated structures forming an entire middle wall of the
castle with the potions chambers and ingredients storage in the dungeons
beneath them. Divided into hundreds of chambers by glass walls, while sprawling
catwalks laced the entire thing, allowing easy transit from the different rooms
and layers.
“This is going to horribly wrong, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”
Hermione muttered under her breath as they reached the proper glass room. Ferns
liberally accented the huge dimmer glass chamber, sphagnum moss coated the dirt
in large patches, and her magic sensed that it had been magically expanded.
Sprout made her way to the front of their group and addressed them. “Now you
will have to work together in teams to fill the buckets you received with the
plants sweet mucilage, which we will use to make a powerful pain killer in your
potions class whenever Professor Snape decided you are ready for it. There are
quite a number of plants in this room so you should spread out so you don’t get
in each other's way.” The elderly woman instructed them.
It was at that moment that it hit her, a wave crashed over her senses and left
her mind dim and her world fuzzy and fogged, the best scent she had ever
smelled filled her nose.
It was terrifying, and she felt trapped in her own body as she stumbled forward
with the rest of the class, then there was a massive pulse of dampness and her
ensnared mind was abruptly freed.
“Thank you Esquire.” Sprout said. “Now class, as I am sure you have been
informed Droseraceae horribilis, or the Giant Sundew, is a man-eater created
long ago to guard vaults and crypts. What you have just experienced is the
plants preferred method of luring in humans to devour, a pheromone packed scent
emitted from the slime which coats the feeding tentacles robs a man of his
senses and compels him to the plants large leaves where he will be ensnared and
devoured. It makes a great libido enhancing potion, but we will not be
harvesting or making that until next year.”
The pheromones left her head foggy even as their effect passed. She very much
did not like the increasing frequency of her agency being robbed from her over
the past few days, and fought to suppress the growl building in the back of her
throat.
Hermione also quietly noted her sisters look of complete confusion at the older
woman’s word, and filed that bit of information away quietly for later thought.
The thoughts were punctuated by Rachel spinning around and promptly clobbering
Neville in the back of the head with her pole. “Well I’m sure this is about to
go well…” Draco added snidely as he helped the other boy up from the loam.
Neville grumbled and rubbed his head, wiping dirt from his robes. “We’re gonna
die aren’t we?”
She gave the gloomy boy a raised eyebrow. “You might, but I’m not about to let
some overgrown weed give me such an inglorious death.” She said, wiping at the
mixed sweat and oil on her forehead with the back of her arm.
Sprout started, pulling a tablet from the folds of her robe, then grinned ear-
to-ear. “Oh dear, it seems the fungi have begun their bid to topple mankind’s
dominance over the Earth. I suppose you’ll just have to stick around and
monitor the situation here while I go hold down the fort.” She exclaimed to
Tonks.
Tonks responded inelegantly as the older woman popped out of existence. “Shit!”
This earned her a glare from Penelope and an eye roll from the thrice cursed
Egyptian.
In the end she ended up paired with Neville, the Patil twins and the two
Malfoys plus Pansy… maybe she would be lucky  and Dior would get eaten.
No, she had never been that lucky.
Melody grumbled from beside her, having been relegated to holding their groups
bucket as they moved into the fern infested room in search of a plant to
harvest from. Moments after her sister spoke, a number of purplish tentacles
rose from the ground with an angry hiss before them.
“Ok everyone, find a plant and begin your harvesting, no time to dawdle.” Penny
commanded, her voice loud in the steamy room.
It was with a total lack of grace that they approached the nest of writhing
tentacles, Draco nearly tripping over a root and falling flat on his face as
they neared the voracious plant.
The leaves were at least ten feet long each, coiling things held swaying just
above the ground, pale green and coated in little fleshy spikes which oozed
large balls of a brilliant purple fluid.
“We are so going to die.” Neville spoke without prompting as they closed on the
squirming plant through the underbrush.
“Isn’t there a way to calm that thing down while we do this?” She asked no one
in particular.
Draco responded with a frown in the plants direction. “They were bred to guard
things, wouldn’t be very secure if they were easy to subdue with magic or
something else like that.” He explained quietly. “You go in on the left
Neville, pin a frond down so Hermione can scrape it safely, we’ll get the left
side, Padma you and your sister keep those tentacles off us.” The effeminate
blonde commanded in a soft tone, wholly focused on the task at hand.
Padma and her sister responded with a pair of mock salutes, and moved
themselves onto either side of the huge plant to try and intercept any strikes.
Hermione shot a sideways glance at Neville, who was visibly sweating with his
trident in his hands.
Melody humphed as she came up besides them, still clearly miffed at having to
carry the bucket. “All I wanted was to make muffins and instead I have to be
here with you people.” She complained futilely.
“If you hadn’t started a fire trying to help cook breakfast this morning you
wouldn’t have to be here.” She shot back at her younger sister with a roll of
her eyes. The fact that their kitchen’s head lautus had declared her sister’s
attempt at cooking to be a threat to the castle’s continued existence had
barely fazed her at this point.
It took only seconds for things to start going wrong, as Neville immediately
tripped on a root and face-planted into one of the plant’s sticky leaves and
then started panicking.
“Oh, good God!” She swore down at the round-faced boy, who squealed and dropped
his pole onto the plant which rumbled and began thrashing as the frond wrapped
around his head.
Draco added his contribution a moment later. “Longbottom you klutz!” At which
point one of the purple tentacles emanating in a ring around the now opened and
gurgling digestion chamber extended and slapped the blonde across the face as
they whipped around wildly, throwing him flat onto his back with a pained and
slightly girly yelp.
This triggered Pansy, who immediately began striking the offending lentacle
with her pole, which only seemed to make the plant angerier, forcing Hermione
to grab Nevilles waist as the sap coated leaf tried to retract and pull him in.
Padma jumped to her side at some unspoken signal, her twin moving to help free
Draco from the vines suffocating embrace, while Melody grabbed Hermione’s hips
and tried to pull her back with Neville and Parvati.
This entire affair had the effect of distracting the other students, and the
chaos rapidly began spiraling out of control as more and more students became
entrapped in the very plants they were supposed to be harvesting from.
Penny, Tonks and Tai rushed around the room in a series of blurs, desperate to
try and regain order for the lesson. This continued for several minutes, at
which point Penelope just started casting cutting curses out of pure
frustration.
It was a very confused, and slightly singed, looking Sprout who returned about
five minutes later with a distinct pop. “Oh, my!” The woman exclaimed. “Is
everyone alright?”
Hermione was breathing heavily and the bond she shared with Tonks pulsed as the
frazzled teenager turned to the Herbology teacher. “Well no one’s dead, so I’m
counting this as a win.”
She received several death-glares at that, but Sprout simply smiled at her.
“Good news I suppose, and the little fungus rebellion has been dealt with. I’m
thinking maybe we move on to something simpler for the rest of today’s lesson.”
The rest of the hour was spent back in one of the upper glass chambers,
studying a large amount of information about the plants that had just utterly
routed their attempts at harvesting them. All in all a rather uneventful way to
spend the last bit of class, especially when compared to the first part.
S
Unexpectedly, Violet had not been enraged the moment they left the shower room.
This was mostly because she was still out cold, with Draco and Pansy sitting in
her previous seat by the waterfall. Draco gave him a curious look after he and
Sally returned from the bathroom.
Pansy’s magic pulsed at them, obviously feeling out Sally. “I see you’ve
managed to collect something typically useless Potter.” The black-haired girl
commented snidely, her eyebrow raised in question. “She’s got so little magic
she might as well be a Neophyte.”
“Granted with her new Patron, that ought not be a problem for much longer.”
Draco commented idly, pulling Pansy into his lap and wrapping his arms around
her waist and resting his hands inside the cup of her crotch which made Pansy
squirm. “And by Freyr you certainly filled her right up, you trying for a heir
already?” He commented, blushing as red as Pansy was at the slight bulge which
still occupied Sally’s lower stomach.
He felt Sally’s blush through the bond, followed by pulses of pleasure, pride
and hopefulness. The little blonde pulsed her small core, letting him know she
was fully willing to carry his child even if she was slightly afraid of being a
mother so early.
They were interrupted by Dior emerging from the shower area, large red
handprints on both cheeks, and her face shiny with fluid from an obvious
source. She was grinning ear-to-ear and expertly re-braiding her long blonde
hair as she entered the room.
Draco’s eyebrows neared his hairline at his sisters sudden appearance. “I see
you’ve been busy sis.” He commented quietly, either  shocked by her sudden
appearance or the very obvious nature of the liquid coating her face.
Dior’s laugh jingled like a bell and she stalked over to where he and Pansy
were sitting. “O come now, I was simply swayed to pay a bit back.” She said
cryptically.
“Hermione had you tonguing her cunny didn’t she?” Came Pansy’s dry response,
her face set so blank it might as well have been stone.
This only made Dior laugh again. “Don’t worry Pansy, I’m sure she’s figuring
out how to get you alone as we speak.” She commented, her features becoming
slightly cruel as Pansy paled even whiter than normal at the thought.
It was at this point, which his twin who had been lying next to the pool woke
up. She lunged up from her prone position with a snarl and promptly slipped on
the wet tile into the pool sideways.
Dior snorted, unconcerned as water splashed her. “Very elegant dismount I’d
say.” She said sarcastically as his twin surfaced moments later.
“Fuck you!” Violet shot back, her unintended dip in the pool seemingly having
mellowed her temper somewhat but not completely soothed it.
Sally stealthily slipped behind where he was standing, sensing the growing
hostility in the room as Violet shot Dior a snarl, swiftly Violet’s orange
eyebrows furrowed as her anger and jealousy renewed.
“Vi, calm down now!” He demanded of her as she climbed from the pool, his hand
lashing out and wrapping around the back of his sisters neck to hold her in
place.
She clawed at his arm with her nails and he pulsed a wave of magic down back at
her, her muscles locked up and she dropped to a knee, glaring up at him
defiantly. “Down.” His voice echoed across the aether, and Sally and Dior
dropped fully to their knees behind him with a pair of loud moans.
Pansy and Draco would have likely have fallen also if not for the fact that
they were already sitting down.
His twin snarled at his second command, visibly trying to resist the powerful
compulsion he had cast with his accidental magic, her core a writhing ball of
heat and flames burned back at him but he ignored the small amount of pain she
was able to send back at him. He was in the dominant position, and his core was
her magic’s master even more so than his newest bond-mate, she would submit or
else.
It must have been a minute or more before she finally buckled, slumping down
onto her side limply as he pushed her down and baring her throat to him in
resentful submission.
He leaned over so he was atop of her and whispered into her ear loud enough for
Dior and Sally to to still hear. “Mine.” Violet shuddered beneath him at the
word, and the two girls behind him both gasped, he shot another compulsion
flashing across their bond.
His twin mewled in displeasure as he moved off of her and allowed her to obey
his magically delivered instructions. She crawled slowly towards where Sally
sat kneeling with wide open eyes, her body low to the ground in submission as
she crawled.
When Harry decided she was taking to long he leaned over and gave her a hard
swat on her tight little ass, making her yelp loudly. She turned back and shot
him a resentful glare through her still damp hair for the chastisement before
continuing on her mission.
She arrived at Sally’s spot on the floor and practically oozed her way up the
slightly smaller girls frame, then she did the exactly last thing anyone in the
room but Harry himself expected.
Violet then pulled Sally close by her short blonde hair and kissed her harshly
full on the lips, muffling the other girls shocked squawk by forcing her tongue
through the gasping blonde’s lips.
He allowed them to kiss for several minutes, watching as Sally fell back
submissively and allowing his twin access to her throat before he took the time
to grin at Dior. The tall blonde gave him an impressed look before going back
to observing the show he had made, a nimble hand slipping between her legs at
the sight.
He strolled casually over to where Draco was sitting, Pansy still sitting in
his lap. Both blushed furiously as they tore their gaze from the display. In
the same instant he stopped walking he became aware that Hermione had entered
the room, and he turned to face her.
“Unbelievable,” she muttered to herself, “such sapphism, why does everyone here
have to be living in sin.” The frizzy haired girl’s tirade dissolved into
mutterings as she slowly slid into the thick foam of the bath, intently
ignoring the display on the poolside.
He turned back to a questioning Draco. “I believe the term kiss and make up was
meant to be an analogy.” The blonde boy stated with a flush.
Harry shrugged at him. “Whatever works.” He replied with a cheeky grin.
S
Potions was their second class that day and they walked back to the fourth wall
sedately, Tonks and the other Esquires having been disheartened and bored by
the rest of their lesson in Herbology and consequently were not in the mood to
rush.
Getting down to Potions proved to be the hard part, as the stone walls deep
beneath the greenhouses were eerie and the sconces were placed far apart and
only cast a cool and dim green light on the passageways.
It was colder down her too, Hermione could see her breath in the air and she
shot an inquisitive look at Tonks as the busty teen narrowly avoided tripping
on a loose cobblestone. “Any reason it’s so cold down her Tonks?”
Tonks steadied herself and replied. “Many of the potions and their ingredients
are sensitive to heat, and besides things last longer when they are kept cold
anyways, makes it easier to keep everything fresh.” She explained quietly as
they passed a section of wall with strange black beads popping in and out of
existence as they bubbled up from the stone for seemingly no discernible
reason.
 A few minutes later they entered a large curving chamber with rows of desks, a
set of three wrist thick books placed on each one. Tonks sighed and turned to
Penny as they poured into the chamber and began taking seats. “Three, two,
one.” She said, at which point a door on the far wall bust open, revealing a
greasy-haired man with a sharply hooked nose. “And Snape is here, right on
time.” Penny said beneath her breath, sounding like she was trying not to roll
her eyes in condescension.  His cape fluttered like the wings of a bat as he
marched into the room, casting an unimpressed look at the students as Hermione
took her seat.
"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," the
man immediately began as they were seated. Speaking in little more than than a
whisper, but Hermione’s rapt attention caught each word. "You will find that
there is little foolish wand-waving in my class, and I know from experience
that many of you may doubt this is actually magic. I don't expect you children
to comprehend the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with shimmering fumes
rolling across the broil, or the delicate power of liquids that creep through
the veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to
bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death—if you aren't as big a bunch of
dunderheads as I usually have to teach." He finished his speech with a scowl
which seemed to have a familiar place on his narrow face.
“Padma’s hand shot up and he rolled his eyes. “Yes, Ms, Patil?” He responded in
a long suffering voice.
“When do we get to the potion making?” She asked in an eager and quite chipper,
if badly accented tone.
His eyebrow raised imperiously. “If you are very lucky, we will be brewing your
first potions by the end of the month.” He answered in the same tone as before.
“After you memorize the safety books, ingredient manifests, your first year
potions textbooks and any other instructions I see fit to give you between then
and now.” He swept over, his cape flapping in an unfelt breeze. “As for today,
we will be going over some of the safety equipment, then my student teachers
will give you a tour of some of the ingredients shelves.” He finished as he
moved over to her desk.
“You will all place the books on your desks go into you satchels, then follow
me to the equipment room.” He instructed, turning in place and moving towards
another nearby door without waiting to see if his instructions were being
followed.
She shoved the three big musty tomes into her younger sisters hands, as Melody
had been relegated to carrying her satchel, and immediately hurried after the
bat-like man.
The room they entered was coated in shelving across all four of the walls and
several shelves inside the room itself. Snape stood holding a bone-white beaked
mask about a foot long made of leather.
The mask’s underside was cloth, also white, and it had blank circular black
glass eyes sewn onto it. As she was observing the head strap on the back  Snape
spoke. “This, as some of you might already be familiar with, is a respirator,
or plague mask for the melodramatic. It is used primarily in the fields of
medicine, chemistry, alchemy, and potions making to protect the wearer from
miasma and other noxious fumes.”
He turned it around so they could see the back, then pulled out a beak-like
insert from the nose. “This is the filter bag for various herbs and spices,
which you may find in the jars on the far left shelf,” he added, pointing to
the many rows of glass jars there, “the herbs should be replaced regularly for
peak effectiveness, and note that different mixtures can be used to counteract
certain things more effectively. A list of which is provided on the chart by
the jars, as well as in your textbooks.”
He replaced the insert and then placed the mask in Pansy’s hands. “Each of you
take a mask from the bins and put them on, you will be getting used to them
over the course of the next few weeks and I have no patience for dawdling.”
The mask was a little claustrophobic to strap on, but once on Hermione thought
it fit quite snugly, and the glass was surprisingly clear as well.
“The next item is a waxed fabric overcoat, to prevent spills and spray from
hitting clothing or the skin, you will need to remove your robes and cloaks for
to put them on, as their is an inner liner in them that pulls up over the head
around your masks.”Snape continued, gesturing to a rack where a number of black
coats were hanging.
The coat was surprisingly complex to put on while wearing the mask, as the
inner layer was a tight bodysuit mostly unconnected to the outer coat, but
after some struggle she managed. Next came loose leather pants, then a set of
boots, and a set of gloves both treated with caoutchouc, and it was all topped
off with a wide-brimmed leather hat.
Dressing now finished, they hung their clothes on the rack from which they took
their jackets while Snape continued to explain the locations and uses of other
various pieces of safety equipment littered around the room, including things
like fire extinguishing powder as well as a variety of neutralizing agents.
When they finally emerged from the storage room Hermione was practically
buzzing in excitement at all they had learned and what they were about to do.
There was a collection of Third thought Fourth-Years already dressed in doctor
suits, waiting for them to arrive when they re-entered the classroom, standing
at attention as soldiers might when in formation.
Snape it seemed, ran a tight ship here in the potions lab.
The older students divided them all into groups of four, she was sorted into a
group with Harry, Violet and a small rail thin blonde girl who she had only
just seen earlier in the baths who had been covered in bruises and seemed
slavishly dependent on Harry to an almost pathetic degree.
Their leader was a girl who was oddly enough not dressed in a full suit,
lacking a mask and the underlining, with messy black hair only a bit longer
than Harry’s who seemed very eager to see them. The girls resemblance to their
potions master was not lost on Hermione either.
“Alright, are your masks secure? I’m going to guide you five pretty deep into
the labyrinth.” She asked them eagerly, taking note of Melody’s shivering and
barely clothed form with a mild interest before casting a warming charm on the
younger girl.
They nodded in agreement, Hermione more eager than her companions as they
climbed down yet another twisting stone stairway deeper into the castles
underbelly. “Awesome,” The young teenager continued as they passed a landing
and kept going, “I’m Surah Snape!” She exclaimed to them, proving what Hermione
already suspected.
She gave them a small grin. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to
meet you Harry.” She said eagerly, pulling them even deeper into the darkened
stairs with a wave.
Harry, for his part tilted his head in a rather confused manner at her
statement. “I suppose I’m sort of famous from what people tell me, but why are
you so eager?” He asked her.
Hermione chose that moment to cut in. “And for that matter, where is your
protective equipment?”
She flushed. “It’s kinda a long story… and both are pretty solidly connected.”
Surah ran a hand through her greasy black hair and sighed, looking visibly
embarrassed. “My father and yours were unusual… in the sense of typical male
behavior… your mother is different from others of our kind, to start with no
one but maybe Dumbledore seems to know where precisely where your mom was born.
That’s not the odd part though, as whatever difference there is are not obvious
visible or even magical, as though she is very powerful for her still pretty
young age it’s something other than that.”
They past yet another landing, barely noticing it as the older girl talked. “It
manifested itself pretty much from the moment they were placed in the same
party, both of our fathers were enamored with her, to the point of ignoring all
of the other available girls, even the older or more well off girls were
ignored completely… like they weren’t even there in the magic or biological
sense.” She waved her hand as they reached the bottom of the staircase,
motioning for them to follow her into the shadowy gloom of the potions
ingredients storage area.
“Normally you would only be allowed to see the shelves with safe potions
ingredients, but I’m allowed down here, and there is less of a chance we’ll be
interrupted here.” She explained as they passed a warning sign written in
several different languages.
“Point I was getting to earlier was that it was extremely anomalous behavior
for any male wizards so young regardless of core type or temperament.
Dumbledore made a game out of it of sorts, and both of our fathers agreed that
whoever could win Lily’s hand would be declared the ultimate victor, they
agreed that there would be no challenges to the victors claim from the loser.”
She paused at that and motioned to a rune inscribed into the wood of a frost
coated shelf, with jars of glowing rocks and strange and unidentifiable
withered husks suspended in an unknown fluid. “Bit of safety info, just pump
magic into this if any ingredients are spilled or escape, just put a bit of
magic into one of these runes and a cleanup  team will be dispatched to your
location. It should glow when you do so, and their are runes on either end of
every shelf and the middle of each.”
“So wait, what on earth does that kind of behavior mean?” Hermione asked the
older girl, Surah shrugged in response.
“No one knows, as far as anyone can tell she isn’t overtly Fey nor some kind of
mutant, and it didn’t affect anyone else other than our fathers at the time…”
She trailed off, and Hermione’s sharp mind caught the ‘at the time’ and filed
it away to ask about later.
They passed a dimly glowing green sconce, and turned down another isle between
to massive shelves of potions ingredients which soared up into the misty gloom
and darkness, a few rolling ladders on either side of them. “At any rate, my
father was winning the… I guess it was a contest, for most of their time at
school here, until the beginning of fourth year when he, in his own words “Made
a royal ass of myself.” Over the earlier summer, your dad had made a great
effort to change himself, and finally managed to gain your mom’s attention, at
which point my dad lost the contest. Your parents bonded to each other, your
dad even swearing off other bond-mates in exchange for her hand, it worked.”
“My dad was already studying potions and was close to becoming a master, and
after he had lost your mom’s hand he was pretty depressed. That was when he met
my mother, Anna MacCòmhain who was a neophyte working in the potions labs at
the time. She ended up assigned to the same potions project as him as an
assistant, and somehow I ended being part of the deal. Which is to say my Da
took my mom under his wing for a mastery, and she decided to give him an heir
in thanks.” She explained, ending with a sort of helpless shrug.
“That’s why I don’t need a mask, because both of my parents have been potions
masters since before I was born, which left me mostly immune to their effects,
which is both good and bad as I’ sure you can imagine.” She continued, cutting
Hermione off before she could ask further questions.
“Ok, I suppose I follow you, but why does that leave you so interested in me?”
Harry asked her, ignoring Violet’s sharp look at the two of them as he stepped
a pace closer.
She flushed at his question and immediately it clicked in Hermione’s mind.
“Only you father and his were affected at the time.” She let the obvious flow
off her tongue, her inflection making the meaning clear as day.
This only made the older girl blush harder. “For some reason I’m affected too,
and I would bet my last gallon the two of you are as well.” She added, giving
Violet a pointed look.
“I was just six the first time my mom let me out of her sight long enough to
meet her at a joint potions meeting, all of the masters in the region reviewing
each others notes and going over what everyone had learned that year.” Surah
gained a foggy faraway look in her eyes as she recounted the story. “I reacted
abnormally powerfully for my age at the time, caught her in the bathroom and
all but begged her aloud on my knees to claim me then and there. I was too
young for her taste of course, and being the daughter of her best friends bond
mate she refused me with a grace and tact most would have had a hard time using
properly. It hasn’t gone away though, only been reinforced over the years, and
to be honest I think I know better than anyone but my father how your mother’s
pull feels…”
Hermione shot the girl a curious look. “Ok, so what does that have to do with
Harry?”
"With your father dead, you are not the sole patriarch of the house of Potter."
She said, a pleading tone entering her voice. "You could make me her official
consort." This was followed by a full faced blush across her pallid skin.
Hermione cut Harry off. “What’s in it for him?” She asked, her tone just short
of hostile. She had grown up in Byzantium and political maneuvering was
accordingly practically second nature to her.
Surah blushed further and shot her an gave Harry a sidelong look before turning
back to Hermione. "Whatever he want's I suppose, but I can't give you my
firsts, I'm saving myself for Lily... You'll understand when you meet her."
"I doubt that." Violet shot back more than a little disdainfully. "I mean
imagine how the Hel that would have to be to work out?"
Hermione opened her mouth to agree with the violent redhead, however much it
irked her biology generally didn't work like that, but Surah replied before she
could. "I don't have to imagine it, I know how it feels." She replied
cryptically.
Then the older girl brightened slightly. “Tell you what,” she added, “if you
agree to this I’ll take you to her tower this weekend.” She couldn’t see their
faces, but both of the twins visibly stiffened at the offer. She didn’t even
need magic to know the pair were silently communicating something across their
bond, as the blonde from earlier stiffened only an instant later.
“This weekend.” Came Harry’s reply after a moment. “We have Saturdays and
Sundays off from studying right?” He asked.
“Of course we do.” Hermione cut in, voicing the obvious. “Even if you
barbarians don’t hold the Sabbath sacred, you need some time off or you’d go
insane.” She added, remembering the schedule overview they had received while
the present twins had been…  otherwise engaged .
Surah nodded slowly as they passed beneath a massive moldering cobweb spanning
the distance between two massive shelves. “I suppose I could swing by Saturday
evening after my duties are finished.
The rest of the conversation was far less interesting as it turned away from
such personal topics and flowed with ease into discussion on the locations of
safety equipment in the shelving and other such topics, and while Hermione was
still extremely engaged in the new topics, the subject they had started on
still occasionally nagged her subconscious even as she absorbed the new
information.
Finally they returned to the potions classroom, and they parted with the
youngest Snape with the advice to begin reading through their books as soon as
possible.
S
Harry had very much been looking forward to his next class, and he could even
sense a similar level of anticipation in Violet.
It was another long walk to the outer wall where Hagrid waited for their group,
inside a large series of stables and cages where Hogwarts kept both it’s
calvary animals and the menagerie.
Hagrid was their to greet them and their Esquires with a huge grin on his giant
face. The half-giant flanked by a pale slender man with white hair, from which
emerged a pair of thin white antlers, who gazed placidly at them with a pair of
large luminous blue eyes.
“It has been brought to our attention that your class had an incident with
several Welsh Urban Fairies due to a specific ward on your group rapidly
eroding.” The pale man spoke the instant their Esquires had left. “As such,
today’s lesson plan has been accordingly altered to suit this.”
Hagrid gave the man a raised eyebrow, a good-natured look of bemusement on his
face. “Come now Lovegood, not even an introduction for the wee ones?”
The man, now revealed to go by Lovegood blinked owlishly. “I suppose I’ve spent
too much time among the fey for my own good my old friend.” The man admitted,
to which Hagrid gave a friendly laugh.
“Any rate,“ the half-giant added, “I’m Rebeus Hagrid as many of you might
already know,” he gave Harry a wink at that, “and this is my co-instructor
Xenophilius Lovegood.”
Hagrid, aside from being the Keeper of the Keys and the Head Groundskeeper was
also their Care of Magical Creatures teacher. Professor Lovegood was apparently
their instructor in all things Fey, a category which apparently went quite a
bit beyond the typical dragon or warg in scope.
Case in point, Lovegood guided them away from the various beast pens into a
quieter series of chambers above the lower levels where stranger things were
kept than trolls or gryphons.
The room they were led into was smaller than what many of the chambers they had
passed through, a pair of large glass containers reached from floor to ceiling,
reinforced with webs of rune coated cold iron woven to allow large hexagonal
viewports into the glass cylinders.
It was what was flitting wildly inside the chambers that was what was
interesting to him though.
He slowly crept up to the the glass at Lovegood’s prompting, second only to the
inquisitive young Greek and her sister, Violet and Sally slowly following
behind him.
He was immediately face to face with a little elfin face peering through the
glass framed with bright pink hair, her blue multifaceted eyes stared back at
him, the tiny female couldn’t have been more than two feet tall.
She had shamrock green skin across her entire nude body which looked slightly
moist, holding herself in the air with a pair of large brightly colored
butterfly wings. The fairy grinned at him, pressing against the glass with her
tiny hands and undersized breasts before pushing off and alighting back into
the cloud of fluttering little fey in the chambers center.
“These here in the chamber are fairies of a couple different types,” Hagrid
explained as he marched up next to where he was peering through the crystal
glass, the ones in the far chamber are pixies.”
“The difference is most immediately noticeable unless one looks at the wings.”
Lovegood explained as he carefully stalked along the outside of the clustered
students. “But the primary difference is in temperment. Fairies are seelie and
pixies are unseelie, seelie creatures generally mean no intentional harm, but
unseelie creatures are far more likely to behave malevolently even if there is
no reason to do so.”
“It should also be noted that neither fairies or pixies contain anything more
than animal intelligence anymore, and are as such considered animals despite
having once been Magi themselves many eons ago.” The pale man continued. “Both
feed on sexual fluids as well as the magic released during such unions, and use
their abilities to stimulate such behaviors, though pixies being capricious and
often prone to wicked impulses generally use their powers in an attempt to
cause rapes…” The man continued as the lesson went on.
S
“I see-” Dumbledore spoke first, “that your son has taken after his mother in
more than just his peculiar shade of green eyes.
It was several hours after the party and both Tonks had been dragged into his
private office for reasons Tonks could only barely speculate at, though knowing
what she did she knew she understood a great deal better than anyone else that
the animagus forms might have signified.
She tried not to think about the mural above the older woman’s throne in the
chamber and instead focused on her leige’s words as he continued on.
“A Basilisk, a Jörmungandr, and an Ananta Shesha…” He finished with a tired
looking sigh.
Tonks chose that moment of silence to speak even as her hair turned a dull
purple. “It could possibly be coincidence, I mean it certainly isn’t unheard of
for powerful students to influence the animagus forms of those they bond with
before they are set in stone by the ritual.”
“And besides,” the teenager added as mostly an afterthought, “those three are
far from the weirdest we’ve got in our group… between Draco, Hermione, and
Melody…”
Dumbledore sighed and fixed her with a tired smile. “As I am already aware Nym-
Esquire Tonks.” He corrected himself quickly at her rapidly souring expression.
But both he and and Lily jolted as the wards on his chamber resonated with a
presence demanding to be allowed in, the same presence causing Tonks to swear
as she recognized both the presence and it’s message.
A second later Penelope Clearwater emerged from the doorway and tossed a report
onto Tonk’s lap. “Your dealing with this.” She exclaimed. The younger teen then
turned to Lily. “Tell me Mrs. Potter, just how randy is you son exactly?”
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Baw Ha Ha Ha! Hermione was a red herring all along!
To anyone wondering about how that works out, remember Hermione is a not
exactly what one would call an especially faithful child as has been mentioned
in the story before, a bit too much of the typical Roman philosophy for her to
take the non-moral guideline part of religion all to seriously.
Something we’ll get into a bit later.
In the case of the Jerboa Hive mind… the person who’s getting that should be
pretty obvious with Hermione now off the table. It’s something I have an
amusing plan for at any rate.
As for Sally, I mean come on… she’s probably one of, if not the single most
underused character in the series. That’s both in and out of canon, which
helpfully allows her to be completely malleable as far as things like character
is concerned.
At any rate, the story should be picking up pace here fairly soon as I plan to
maybe have a short timeskip after this chapter, just enough to take us to the
weekend after a short bit about the night about to follow.
 
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