FicWad

Harry Potter and the Corvinus Strain
Chapter 8

Potter Castle
Barbican
Monday
1 December 2003
05:55

Michael threw on his sweats and ran to the transport arms. He didn’t want to be late for PT. Harry had promised him a sparring match today.

Michael jogged up on time and found Harry already stretched out and deeply into world record weight lifting. He smiled tightly, having already learned this lesson: “don’t try to keep up with the Master” unless you had some time to spend in the infirmary. Pretty girls there, but they had a dedication to sampling his tissue and fluids that was nothing less than frightening.

Michael had also learned not to attempt things with these girls. First, when he tried, they retaliated with magic; second, his head had felt like it would explode. If he pushed it, he would soon find Harry standing over him, smiling that crooked smile.

The one time he had encountered Selene he had learned to stay away from her. Her eyes had changed to that glowing green just before his head exploded in pain. As the darkness closed in he had seen the loathing in her eyes.

There appeared to be three types of women here: Harry’s, Harry’s ex-wives or -girlfriends or something, and those that wanted Harry but had settled for a nice young fellow. None of them looked to be settling for Michael. The dirty looks he was constantly getting told him in no uncertain terms that this well was poisoned.

Michael continued to think as he finished his stretches and started the routine Marie Crouching Cougar Potter, an arresting black-haired, hard-bodied American Indian beauty had given him in her no-nonsense way. Michael had been embarrassed that he had started lower than Miriam and her brothers and sisters. Speaking of which, there was another category of women: Harry’s daughters, and oh God, some of them were so hot. They were worse than their mums, though, those knowing green eyes following his hands and laughing at him no matter what the rest of their faces did.

He had made the mistake of cornering Miriam, and as he went down that time he had seen the snarling Wargs behind him. For once he had been glad to see Harry’s smiling, laughing face.

He had to learn what he could and move out of here. Somewhere far away. Back to the States, even.

Michael heard his name called and looked up. Nym waved him toward the sandpit.
Harry was in the pit grappling with Amelia Fastida, the remaining vampire Elder, Erika, her or Harry’s consort, and Selene. The girls were in bike shorts and sports bras and Harry was in a pair of bike shorts. Even Michael had to admit Harry was magnificent, at least a match for the three gorgeous women trying to best him. Michael watched and waited.

Harry was very fast and the three women were working him at his maximum speed between them. Michael could only see him move when he was in contact with one of the women. He appeared and disappeared between them faster than the eye could follow; so did Selene. Amelia and Erika were only slightly less fast, mere blurs of movement.

Michael began mentally preparing himself for his round. After Harry sparred with the women he would be very ready to take on Michael.

Soon enough a round of polite applause told Michael it was time. He turned his head in time to see Harry raise Selene and give her a quick kiss.

Michael grimaced and entered the sand pit. Selene simply stepped back and Harry stood very casually waiting. “Good morning, Michael. I’ve noticed that part of your problem is speed. That will improve as your strength improves somewhat, but today we’re going to work on some other exercises to improve your speed. You will try to block my attacks.”

Harry reached out with an open hand and smacked Michael lightly. Michael’s block never touched him. The next twenty minutes were painfully embarrassing for Michael, but he did improve and finally was able to partially block one of Harry’s humiliating opened-handed slaps.

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Potter Castle
Master Bath
Monday
1 December 2003
07:44

“Don’t frown so, Selene, you’ll get wrinkles.”

“Mmmph.”

Erika rolled her eyes. “Are you on about him again?”

“No, and you know it, Erika!”

“Well yes, Selene, but being mad at Harry for laughing at Michael is just stupid, so I was hoping I was wrong.”

“Hmmm mmm-hmmm, Harry! Stop that, I’m maaaaaadddd, Harry! At you!”

Erika turned her head slightly sideways. “Well, apparently not that mad.”

Nym breezed into the shower where Erika was watching Harry regruntle a resisting Selene. “Harry, Selene, Erika.”

She stepped under the nozzle after jostling Harry and Selene aside with a hip. “Harry, we have to talk about the social calendar, so you and Selene hurry up. We’ll do it at breakfast.” She laughed at the glare from Selene. “Aren’t you being mad at Harry?”

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Potter Castle
Dining Room
Monday
1 December 2003
08:30

Harry arrived with a smugly smiling Selene, who got some hard looks from her mates. She was completely nonplussed, as she felt she deserved some—errrh—gruntling. Nym spoke immediately after Harry had seated Selene. “Harry, here’s the list.”

Thanksgiving Day Feast and Ball, Thursday, 27 November
Full Moon, Pack run in Central Europe, 8 December
Birthday Party, 10 December
Winter Carnival and School Ball, 12 December
Wards home Friday and Prison Break Party, 12 December 1996
Russian Empire Ball, 15 December
Eastern European Nobility Ball, 16 December
Birthday Party, 17 December
1st Mage Regiment Ball, 18 December (Sports Ground)
Veela Regimental Ball, 19 December (Sports Ground)
Goblin Ball, 20 December (Sports Ground)
Divisional Ball, 21 December (Sports Ground)
Corps Ball, 22 December (Sports Ground)
Magical Forces Ball, 23 December (Sports Ground)
Birthday Party, 24 December
Christmas Day, 25 December
Annual Boxing Day Ball, 26 December (Godric’s Hollow)
Regimental Party (Cocktail), 28 December
Vassal Ball, 29 December
Birthday Party, 31 December
Mates Judged and Created, 4 January
Handfasting, 5 January (?)
Birthday Party, 7 Jan
Back to School Wake, 11 January
Wards back in School, 12 January

Harry looked for a minute and then it hit him. “Nym, that’s three weeks for term break.”

Nym nodded. “We knew that, though, Harry, and Spring Term has a week added to the back end.”

Harry smiled. “Well, it looks fine to me, Nym. So what else?”

Nym smiled. “Eat your breakfast and go study.”

Harry answered brightly, “Yes, Nym!”

“Harry, what about Michael? He’s just using us to train himself.”

“He’s a bound man, Sarah. He thinks he’s using us. I have something in mind for him, though.”

The bonded looked at each other for a moment. This was new. They waited and waited, and Harry calmly finished his rasher of bacon, giving Hedwig the last inch or so. He looked up into a sea of put-out faces and broke up laughing, then caught himself. “Sorry, it’s nothing earth shattering. I think he’ll make a good company commander for the hybrid regiment. Sure, he’s going to want to leave here, but he’ll be back. He really isn’t going to find a home anywhere.”

“Nope! He’s off to the States soon. We won’t see him back again.” Luna turned her now-white eyes to Harry. “Don’t pout, Harry, it’s best this way. Michael’s not really happy here.”

“But I can’t watch him there, Luna.”

“He’s not evil, Harry, just different from us. He has no chance to mate here and he knows it. He has to make his own way in the world and he has to get his own mate and pack—errh, coven—oh, whatever.”

“If I release the binding on him I’ll have to kill him, Luna.”

Luna nodded, eyes still white. “Don’t release it, Harry. It drives him to improve, anyway.”

Harry turned it over in his head and then smiled. The binding would let him keep tabs on Michael if he needed to, and he need not interfere unless he wanted to. Harry smiled. He actually liked Michael a little, so maybe this would work out best. It was a forgone conclusion that the mates were going to work against him here due to his previous—errrh—loutish? bad?—

“Neanderthal!”

“Thank you Eugenie.” —behavior. In the States, Michael could perhaps have at least some chance at a normal life.

Luna’s eyes went slowly blue again and the bonded finished breakfast. Harry kissed them on their way off to work or study and walked to the Master’s Study to start his day.

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Godric’s Hollow
Sports Ground
Monday
1 December 2003
09:30

Alastor Moody stumped up to the broadcast booth, all the while regretting it. Master Auror, scourge of the Dark, to poufter sports commentator. How the mighty had fallen. This was all Harry’s fault. He could have been a little less effective and left some work out there, but no. Every time Alastor got on some truly evil git’s trail it ended at the nearest snatch-stone line, and the evil ones were fewer and farther between all the time now. Sure, there were the scoff-laws and stupid ones left, but what fun were they? Hell, half of them wet their pants at the mere sight of him. Let a mate or, Merlin forbid, Harry show up and it turned disgusting, all that groveling.

The young Aurors were perfectly capable—way more than capable, in fact—of handling the few left out there; and while teaching at the academy was entertaining, it didn’t hold a candle to a life or death struggle with some git who would kill you as soon as blink an eye. It was a poorer world with the evil gits gone.

“Ah, Master Auror Moody, so glad you could make it. Please come right in. Tea? Coffee?”

“How about a whiskey?” Alastor watched Bruce Titterhorn blink and almost chuckled. That had put the little poufter right. Get this interview off on the right foot.

Bruce paused for a moment. “I’m afraid we don’t have strong spirits here—against company policy.”

On the inside Alastor grinned at the opening that had left him. “So ye want to hire me to give the place some spirit, then?”

Bruce frowned; this wasn’t what he had been led to expect. “Uh, no, actually, Master Auror. We need a man with experience to help with the dueling commentary. We believe you’re the best man for the job.”

Glenda, who had been watching and rolling her eyes, spoke up. “Come on in with us, Alastor. Beats sitting at home bored. His Highness has killed most of your targets anyway, and the new crop of Aurors is easily handling the riff raff that are left. The magical forces are taking down the external threats so you’re left twiddling your thumbs. Teaching’s fine but no challenge any more. Why not try adding to the public’s knowledge of dueling?”

Alastor turned to her. “Now you’ve taken all the fun out of it, lass. I was just getting started winding him up.”

Glenda grinned. “Beg pardon. Pray continue.”

Bruce had a very interesting next half-hour as he was neatly boxed into a corner: more of an interrogation than an interview, and he was on the receiving end. In the end he agreed to the salary demands and introduced Alastor to Daniel Boxlighter, who gushed like a schoolgirl and immediately ran off, towing Alastor off to the list and the stages.

“Oh cheer up, Bruce, you got what you wanted.”

Bruce nodded. “Yes, well, I’m not so sure. The cameras are going to be unkind to that face, I’m afraid.”

Glenda nodded. “No more than the gods already have been, Bruce. Alastor can take it.”
Glenda looked out the front of the booth. “Not sure about Daniel and the dueling crew, though.” She winced as Daniel was blasted of the stage and into the sand of the list by some odd purple curse.

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Potter Castle
Master’s Study
Monday
1 December 2003
12:00

Na Wen faded into the Master’s Study. “Ready, Harry?”

Harry looked up. “Oh, it’s Monday. Yes, of course, Na Wen. How much longer are we going to keep doing this?”

Na Wen frowned. “You don’t like the Chinese mates, Harry?”

“Stop that, Na Wen, you know that’s not true.”

“Well, actually we thought this schedule worked fairly well, Harry.”

“I think so too, Na Wen, but the sand is a finite resource and I haven’t been able to figure out how to make more.”

Lilith faded in. “Don’t worry about it, Harry. We’ll find a way when it’s time.”

“You know, that’s oddly not comforting. When we’re forced to do things it always feels slap-dash.”

Cho came to the rescue. “We’re working on it, Harry. Did you know Dragons use gastroliths too?”

“Cho! We aren’t killing Dragons for the rocks in their bellies.”

“Of course not, Harry, but if we can find where they died, really old ones, then we can check those gastroliths out.”

Frieda and Hong immediately started thinking about the ranges of the oldest Dragons they knew, Dragons who had been very old when the two of them were very young.

Na Wen smiled and faded Harry away. They had Chinese witches to breed.

As the mates went about their tasks that afternoon, they occasionally had to suppress. Harry was apparently having a very nice few days in China.

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Potter Castle
Mates’ Sitting Room
Monday
1 December 2003
12:00

Nym sat at her secretary in the mates’ private sitting room, or hangar deck, whichever you preferred. She looked around the room and chuckled. Yes, an intimate, warm, low-ceilinged space, beautifully appointed, for two thousand. Completely ridiculous; almost as bad as that ridiculous bed and the bedroom. Even magically expanded it physically occupied the entire fourth floor on the Hollow side of the Castle. The bath occupied half of the south side. The mates insisted on sleeping in Harry’s bed whenever they were in the Castle, though. Nym just hoped the Chinese never all showed up at once.

Nym looked up at her giggling mates, sighed, and went back to work on her latest project. She was trying to make the flame whip that Harry favored more tractable for the rest of the mates. Harry, the Alphas, and the Primaries could wield it well, but it had a tendency to get away from some of the other mates and cause horrific damage. Nym wanted to know why.

The Queen slipped into the room and glided across the floor. “Nym, have you looked at this social schedule?”

Nym looked up, surprised. “Your Majesty....”

“Pshhht, Nym, please.”

Elizabeth sat. Nym concentrated for a moment. “The schedule? What’s wrong with it, ma’am?”

“You’ve left the Mundane events off, Nym. Andrew has events to attend—Sarah, Beatrice, and Eugenie, too. Thank God some of you can go as their dates to most of them, but some Harry will have to attend in order to keep the illusion going. He is listed, after all.”

Nym frowned. “We’ve had these before, why did we miss them this time?”

Hestia huffed in annoyance. “Sir Robyn Berry Javrin has yet to provide us with the dates. He seems to feel he’s protecting the Royal household by not letting the dates become public.”

The mates did not like Sir Robyn. He had replaced a favorite of theirs, Baron Robert Fellowes. Baron Fellowes had been with the Queen through the devastating devolution and death of Diana, his sister-in-law, and he had done yeoman’s work. Sir Robyn was having an uphill swim, in shark-infested waters.

Elizabeth actually rolled her eyes; the man could simply not be reasoned with. He might have to go. For now she would put Christopher Geidt, the current assistant private secretary, in charge of liaising with House Potter. At least he was a wizard and had an understanding of the workings of the magical world. Sir Robyn was coming along but the mates had very little patience right now. “I’ll assign a different person to liaison duties with His Highness, Nym.”

Nym grunted and got an eyebrow. “Don’t grunt, Nym, it’s very unladylike.”

“Grunt.”

“Nymphadora!”

“Oh fine. Elizabeth; I hope this Christopher works out better than Sir Robyn.”

“He will. Nym—and quit peeking in my head.”

“Not peeking. You’re sitting right there.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and went on to other topics, like this year’s handfastings, while she was there.

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Potter Castle
Master’s Study
Monday
1 December 2003
17:20

Harry faded into his favorite chair and sat, simply relaxing. Geoffrey popped in and offered a whiskey and box of cigars. Harry took one of each. As he slowly worked through the cigar lighting ritual, Phillip, Dan, Andrew, and Tony Inge showed up. Harry smiled and Geoffrey offered whiskey and cigars all around. The command council took him up on his offer and seated themselves.

“Phillip, what brings you round?”

“Liz had some problems with the holiday schedule—like you don’t know already, Harry.”

Harry smiled. “Come on, Phillip, don’t take all the fun out of it.”

Phillip snorted. “So what are you up to then, Harry?”

“Resting. It’s Monday.”

Tony chuckled. By now they were all well aware that Mondays were busy days for Harry. “Harry, while you’re resting, what do we intend with the vampire hybrids? I only ask because we still have a million-odd troops in the field, and while they’re very busy they won’t be for long. We need to get them back to work at their jobs—well, except for the professionals.”

Harry nodded. “Yes, I had realized. We’ll start pulling units from the field and releasing the reservists. Luna and Li haven’t seen anything too horrible on the horizon. Well, not for mortals anyway. There’s some indication that the vampires and vampire hybrids are struggling with each other. We’re supporting those individuals and covens that have affirmed their loyalty and will eventually suppress the others. For now we’ll continue to watch.”

Dan frowned. “That’s a little uncharacteristic, and a change of plan, Harry. Are you letting the casualties sway you?”

Harry actually paused and thought for a moment. “No. Actually the casualty rate has been very low. We’ve had some very personal casualties, but to me they all are. I’m primarily concerned with the vampires themselves. Hybrid and non, they’re a little more—errrh—arrogant? Proud? Well, anyway they’ll do better with time to work it out among themselves. The werewolf hybrids are more social creatures and more pack oriented; dominate or defeat the leader and you become the leader for as long as you can fend off the challengers. The vampire hybrids, however, will work alone.”

Andrew had been curious about something. “What about the females, Harry? Are you expecting the same thing as with the werewolf females?”

Amelia Fastida faded into view. “They will seek out Harry as word spreads that he’s capable of making vampires pregnant. Well, most will. The others will seek him out as he is the most powerful sire. It is inevitable. The males will be driven to challenge him or capitulate to him.”

Andrew frowned. “So another whole population of women, then?”

Amelia laughed. “Only if Harry wants them. Other than that, the same population as before. Some will be witches; of those, some will be found.”

Harry smiled at Amelia and blushed a little under the command council’s stares. “What? It’s not my fault. Talk to Dumbledore, Tommy, and Fawkes.”

“Bit difficult that, Harry, for us at least. We don’t usually raise spirits wherever we go.”

The others chuckled at Phillip’s comment and Harry’s rueful grin.

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Godric’s Hollow
Potter’s Field
Monday
1 December 2003
17:30

Angelina, facing the door, saw them first and waved at Fred and Tracey. Alicia raised a brow. “My two with ’em?”

Angelina nodded. “Yes—George, Kristina, and Neville too. Where’s Romilda? Oh, here she comes.”

The new arrivals flopped onto the bench. Fred and George looked exhausted. At the sight of Angelina and Alicia’s concerned faces, their respective co-mates dropped into twinspeak. “Don’t worry about them—”

“—they’ll be fine—”

“—after a bag of beef blood.”

“Idiots decided they could—”

“—dominate Kristina.”

“She handed—”

“—them their asses.”

Tracey and Kristina looked at each other, surprised.

Angelina and Alicia laughed. “We know,”

“We felt—”

“—most of it.”

“Serves you—”

“—both right.”

Lavender and Ron sat. Lavender looked around the table. “Morgana, six of you? Poor Molly will go mad.”

“Romilda, please, dear.”

Everyone looked at Neville just in time to see his leg stop moving and Romilda snatch her hand away from where she had been gently rubbing him behind his ear. Romilda blushed prettily. “Sorry, Nev.”

Neville beamed at her. “It’s fine dear, and don’t think I don’t like it. I just can’t think when you do that. So where are our resident Dark Lord and Lady?”

“Oy, play nice there, wolfy!”

The table broke up at George Schmidt’s repartee as he approached and seated Lyudmila. Lyudmila smiled. “Yes, play nice or we’ll have to punish you—turn you into a hybrid or something.”

Neville shook his head and smiled. “Yes, my lady. No need to do that.”

William Jones and Morag McDougal Jones approached the table and sat. Morag said, “You know, I’m curious as to why you all didn’t go the whole way to hybrid. It would eliminate the risk of daylight for the vampires and silver for the werewolves.”

Neville looked around and seeing no one else speaking up, said, “Well, for me it’s fear. What if they develop a cure for one virus but not the others? You’ve all read the science pages and the professional journals. Viruses that are just slightly different sometimes can’t be cured by the same technique that cures or prevents viruses in the same family from infecting people. So I picked one form after discussion with Romy, and if later it turns out they can cure hybrids but not werewolves I’ll get the hybrid virus from Selene or one of the other hybrid mates.”

The other infected at the table were nodding. Morag nodded and smiled just as Angelic’s new waitress trainee swung by to take their order, ending the conversation for a while.

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Brazil
Near Tingua
Master’s Study
Monday
1 December 2003
12:34

Miguel Cristobal sat staring out at the day. An amazing thing, really. First they could walk in the daylight—well, the ones who had survived hybridization could. And second, the sire had made a mistake and let him live. Now he had reformed the dominant South American coven and soon would have all of the other South American covens under control. Thank God the sire had stopped broadcasting that compulsion of his. It had been near impossible to think with that on.

Now that he could think, it was possible to see a light at the end of the tunnel. Amelia Fastida was alive. The lycan hybrids had suddenly backed off and now the sire had backed off, too. He was a hybrid so he should be able to dominate Amelia and, if he played it right, the sire would be enraged and fall into the trap. Sure, there were those rumors of Dragons, but there was no real evidence. There was massive destruction wherever the sire had engaged the lycan hybrids, but nothing that couldn’t be attributed to that magic user mortal slave of his, this supposed Duke of Magic. He had to be a slave; what vampire would let a mortal with that much power live? Too bad the sire had to die, really, as he’d done them all a favor by suppressing the lycan; but there was no room for Miguel if he lived. And whatever happened, Miguel must live and protect the coven.

Thankfully the sire had not gone hybrid, from what his intelligence sources had said. The little female envoy to the Spanish Coven had been shockingly powerful, but not a hybrid. The Spanish were restrained by their traditionalism and would not go hybrid, so he had left and returned to his coven. Now if the Duke of Magic could be kept from coming to the sire’s aid Miguel could eventually build up the forces needed to defeat the sire and replace him. Hmm, perhaps the offer of the female vampires in the Duke’s service as his, permanently, would persuade him. Rumor had it the Duke had a penchant for using female vampires. No need for a mortal to know that the females would always be serving two masters but that Miguel would be preeminent. Well, at least not if the Duke could be made to choose the right side. A letter seemed in order.

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Potter Castle
Master Bedroom
Wednesday
3 December 2003
05:01

Harry’s eyes opened and he pulled the hips of whoever was waking him around and returned the favor. Susan moaned and pressed firmly into Harry. She took him all the way in and his gentle tongue-lashing soon had her moaning and pleasing them both. As Harry came, Susan used her enhanced speed to shift, spin, and sink onto him. She gave him a burning kiss and a sexy growl as he filled her. “Good morning, Harry.”

“Yes, very!”

Susan wrapped her arms around Harry, who was now sitting up, and laid her head on his shoulder. She just sat there a moment, pleasantly centered as Luna would say. Harry felt a hand on him under Susan and tried to see who it was past her head. The Potter Crest tattoo on the back of her neck gave Regina Frances Potter away. Regina never hesitated; as Susan rose slightly Regina pulled Harry free and took him into her mouth just as Hermione took her from behind. Susan kept the rest of Harry occupied as her partner wife doubled Regina with Harry. They were very nearly late for PT. Regina was not quite up to her normal iron woman workout standard.

As Harry finished his workout, a Swainson's Hawk dropped a parchment at his feet. Harry waved at the raptor and picked up the parchment. He read it as he walked into the near freezing lake and, laughing, handed it to Nym.

Nym read the parchment, and Harry stopped laughing. The vampire and hybrid mates were extremely unamused. Apoplectic was a word that would not go amiss here. Harry suddenly burst out laughing again. Miguel Cristobal was going to die a horrible death unless Harry beat every one of his fifteen hundred-plus mates to the idiot. Harry cringed; lighting someone’s bollocks on fire and putting them out with an ice pick was a little much.


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Godric’s Hollow
Sports Ground
Wednesday
3 December 2003
18:33

“Good wand work from Jellitha; I think she may have Munster down here in a minute. Yes, a very nice jelly-legs and there’s the Stunner. Well fought match that, gentle beings, proving my point that correct wand control is crucial at this level.”

Daniel smiled and leaned into the microphone in front of him. “Right you are, Alastor, and now, gentle beings, a word from our sponsors, and then the dueling coverage will continue here on WWN 2, your source for all the Sport and Court coverage.”

Daniel hit the switch, killing the microphones, and leaned back, giving Alastor a round of applause that was joined by all the people in the dueling booth. Alastor smiled. “That’s a little tougher than it appears to be.”

Daniel grinned. “Yes, it is, but you did great. A little rough in the early going, but by round two you hit your stride.”

Alastor nodded. “I got into evaluating their performance like I would a cadet and just vocalized instead of writing it down.” He waved a sheet of parchment.

Daniel raised a brow. “So that’s an Auror cadet grading sheet?” Alastor nodded and Daniel continued, “Do you think we could use them for all the matches? That way we could do predictive analysis.”

Alastor thought for a moment. “I don’t see why not. I don’t think it would work too well on these juniors, as their magic is changing so fast, but it should work on the older duelists, JV and above.”

The conversation suddenly got very technical and everyone was so involved they nearly missed the end of the commercial break. Daniel looked up just in time. “And we’re back, gentle beings. Daniel Boxlighter and Alastor Moody with your dueling coverage here on WWN 2, your source for Sport and Court coverage. And now the match we’ve been waiting for: Lady Emily Brewster Potter vs. Edward Grinnell. Lady Emily is a Potter ward daughter and fully adopted by their Highnesses.”

Alastor leaned forward. “I wouldn’t make too much of that, Daniel. Sure, there’s the possibility of them having more power, but it’s really the training that matters. Now in the Potter children’s case they do train with their father and mothers, so I would assume they’ll all be tough opponents.”

“Right you are, Alastor. Wand control is all about being able to hit your target, after all. And the duelists are under judges’ orders. Here’s the count….”

“Merlin’s flaming penis!”

Everyone in the booth was so stunned by the immensely overpowered and accurate Expelliarmus that the off-color outburst from Daniel passed right by the censors. The audience, however, were just as stunned, and watched the next few seconds unfold in shocked disbelief.

Emily’s spell had hit Edward and shredded his arm and wand. Before the first drop of blood fell, Harry and Lilith were there and each had a hand on Edward. An odd golden glow enveloped the three and suddenly Edward was healed, whole and in no pain. Meanwhile Nym had landed on the opposite end of the stage and had taken a shocked Emily into a hug.

Rupert Grint, judge for this match as the varsity and Uni chess was not on today, gathered his wits and announced, “Winner Potter; foul Potter, injury; foul Potter, wand damage. The injury foul is negated as there appears to be no permanent injury.”

Alastor recovered his wits first. “A little power control problem there, but the accuracy appears to be spot-on, Daniel.”

Daniel started at the mention of his name. “Yes, Alastor. Here in the replay you can see a very powerful Expelliarmus employed by Potter, and it was spot-on target. Grinnell is caught completely flatfooted and doesn’t even dodge. His wand is completely destroyed.” Even Alastor grimaced as you could clearly see not only the wand being destroyed but the wand arm shredded.

Alastor nodded. “You’ve got to wonder about that wand. Generally the charms on a wand make it impervious to magic cast at it other than an Accio and some classified charms; that’s why they have to be manually broken.”

Meanwhile Harry had pulled another bit of magic out of his hat that no one else could do. With the MTV cameras rolling he picked up a piece of the suspect wand, and while keeping a hand on Edward Harry cast a silent wandless Reparo with the intent of repairing and optimizing the wand and matching it perfectly to Edward. He handed the repaired wand to Edward and as Rupert said, “Wand damage foul negated,” Edward gave the wand a wave and lit the grounds in a coruscating light show.

A stunned Edward hugged the wand to himself. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

Emily, now over her shock, approached Edward and felt his previously destroyed arm. “Edward, I’m so sorry. You should have the win.”

Edward, now completely overwhelmed, both by the wand singing in his head and a Potter daughter touching him and talking to him, shook his head. “No, Emily, you won fair and square. I should have dodged like Duchess Krystal taught us. I just wasn’t ready.” He blushed ferociously and the crowd tittered and ahhhed. It had been obvious why he wasn’t ready; he had been completely hypnotized by Emily.

Emily blushed and led Edward away, drawing an oooh from the crowd who received three piercing glares from the stage and cared not one wit.

Alastor nodded. “Aye, the lad’s right. Part of dueling is keeping your wits about you. A pretty face can conceal a powerful witch from an unwary wizard. In my youth it was a lesson hard learned; cost me a foot in Hong Kong, 1883 it was. One of Dark Lady Yurikiku’s henchwomen. Pretty little thing, skin like porcelain, tiny little—”

Daniel’s eyes got wide. “Well, as you say, Alastor, ‘Constant vigilance’!”

“—feet. Yes, quite right, Daniel, not maintaining it nearly cost Grinnell an arm. But every fight you can crawl away from is a win. So who’s next?”

Harry handed Nym and Lilith off the stage to polite applause and followed Emily, while glaring at Edward to another round of tittering from the crowd. Emily’s desperate little wave behind her back while looking into the oblivious Edward’s eyes changed the tittering to outright laughter.

“Harry! Leave them alone!”

“Grrrrr!”

“Harry!” Nym’s accompanying foot stamp increased the laughter to a belly laugh and the crowd focused on the Potter Daughter Suitor Survivor show for a moment. The judges held up the next duel until the traveling circus passed out of view.

Glenda gave a running description of the action involving the Clan on WWN 3’s Eye on the Realm and Percival commented on Quidditch on WWN 1 while following her and Daniel’s story on his headphones. Titterhorn was prancing around like a pixie who had overdosed on cheering charms. Perci smiled; he might have been the only person in the realm who actually processed the phrase “Merlin’s flaming penis”s first on-air occurrence. He smiled and kept it to himself. No sense getting Daniel in trouble. Yes no question that had come from him and not Moody.

And their Highnesses, what a pair. First among equals indeed; always something going on around those two. It would be a good night at home; Glenda was in a nearly nirvanic state, what with having a view to the ten-year-old Lady Emily staking a claim to the ten-year-old Edward Grinnell. Too bad the Duke looked to be on the edge of a rough go at home, but into each life a little rain must fall.

Harry doggedly followed Emily and Edward as Emily led her prize—errh, friend—back to the Ducal box. Edward realized the Duke was right behind him and the hair on his neck was slowly rising. A smart lad, he was exercising great care in where his hands and eyes went. Once in the box and ensconced next to Emily with her chattering away at what seemed to be nine hundred words a minute the Duke’s glare receded; but those five-year-old blood Potter sons and their burning green eyes were everywhere Edward looked.

“Harry, control your sons, they’ll scare the boy off.”

Nym scowled at Harry’s mumbled, “Well, if he can be scared off he’s not for my daughter, then.”

Sarah put a hand on Nym’s arm and gave her an almost imperceptible head shake. Nym caught the drift. Now was not the time to fight this battle—again—as she could only lose—again—and they were in public. Harry was completely intractable about the daughters. If he didn’t scare the boy away eventually, one of the Alphas or Primaries would check for a finding; and if the Potter daughter was found they would tell Harry and he would back off and the sons would tone it down a little. If she wasn’t found it would take a brave male to push the issue. Braver than any had been so far, although a few had gotten all the way to finding themselves alone in a corridor with a green-eyed Warg. Paul, firstborn Warg son, was even more intractable about it than his father and brooked no nonsense from his sisters. They might be able to distract Harry for a moment but Paul was like a machine and displayed about as much emotion as a knife edge, at least when dealing with wayward suitors.

The female suitors of the Potter sons face a whole different gauntlet, but one possibly even narrower and more dangerous as they found themselves up against the Potter daughters. Oh, it was very proper on the surface but the undertow was vicious, full of sharks, and completely merciless.

Kevin Aaronson Potter’s mate Jennifer née Harper became the first survivor and was now, at the tender age of twenty-two, the grand dame of female suitors preparing to run the gauntlet. She was merciless, too; not a few girls found themselves in a training program to prepare themselves after having their faults dissected in minute detail. It was either that or try the daughters, and they had memories like elephants and all the compassion of stones.

Harry settled in and was enjoying the Quidditch when Miguel Cristobal’s stick to the letter’s carrot appeared on the promenade and the leading male hybrid lunged forward and grabbed Lily Potter.

Later, witnesses’ memories would reveal the large male hybrid being flayed alive and eviscerated. Well, they revealed that after the memories were digitized and played one frame at a time. At full speed they revealed a large male hybrid turning into a hideous corpse and being nailed to the wall of the Gringotts stall, still alive but howling in pain as the air contacted the exposed nerve endings all over his body. Fortunately, madness brought on by pain took his mind before the fire that followed burnt him to ash, somehow leaving the wooden stall wall untouched. There was no indication of where the series of spells had come from.

The other nine hybrids were not as lucky. They were stunned by hundreds of wands and beaten viciously by the crowd on the promenade before the Aurors arrived to save them, poor souls. They would face His Highness in single combat on Sunday.

Lily simply smiled and watched with her brothers and sisters while assuring the surrounding citizens they were fine.

No one saw Erin Vrindten Potter; she had acted from her faded position and stayed that way. She had barely beaten the odd neon-green diamond Potter crest around Lily’s neck to the punch. Let them puzzle over it a while. Besides, this Cristobal was bound to have had spies in the area; let him think Lily did it.

“Very good, Erin.”

“Thank you, Daphne.”

“You know Lily could and would have.”

“We know, Harry, but let’s not let that out quite yet.”

“You explain it to her then, Tracey. She’s mad that Erin interfered.”

“She knows why, Harry, she’s just venting on you.”

“Why me?”

“Harry, we aren’t going to start that again, are we? Because you’re her father, and the only male she can have an intelligent conversation with—well, in her opinion anyway.”

“I know, Na Wen, I’m winding you up.”

“Hmmmph!”

“Hmmmph? Well, how about this, then…?”

“Harrrryyyyy, oh youuuuuu!”

The daughters seated near her rolled their eyes as Na Wen gave a miniscule squirm and a grunty little squeal.

Tiffany Burrows Potter looked at Harry and whispered fiercely, “Da, stop doing Mum in public.”

Na Wen sighed. “Oh hush, Tiffany. He’ll do you later.” Tiffany’s fellow intent-bonded Potter daughters chuckled as she blushed.

Rose Zeller broke up the scrum by threading her way through the slave mates on their cushions and, after nodding at Nym, folding up at Harry’s feet between Bella and Amelia Fastida. Bellatrix huffed. “Rose, you won’t make it through the year—you’re already having to be in contact with Harry.”

Rose nodded sadly. “I know. I thought I could, but I just can’t.”

Harry gently caressed her head through her hair. “Whenever you want, Rose, and whatever you want.”

“Thanks, Harry.”

Harry smiled and pulled her up into his lap. Glenda went mad in the booth.

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Godric’s Hollow
Sports Ground
Wednesday
3 December 2003
20:53

“Fred, George! Stop making those vampire faces!”

“We really—”

“—can’t help—”

“—it, Mum. We—”

“—are vampires, after—”

“—all.”

“Don’t give me that. You don’t walk around your shop with your fangs hanging out.”

Angelica looked at Tracey, who was holding her jaws open but her lips closed as she tried to conceal her canines. “They’re hungry, Molly.”

Molly rolled her eyes. “Well, why didn’t you say so, dears?” She opened her large handbag and stuck her arm in with a look of concentration. Soon enough, after some rummaging among the toys and diapers and diaper rash potion, she came up with two bags of blood. “You’ll have to share with Tracey and Kristina. I’ll pack more on Saturday.”

Fred and George looked at each other and shrugged and then, after finding a lint and diaper rash potion-free spot on the bags, had a little snack. They handed the remaining halves of their bags to the girls, who politely turned their backs.

Molly produced a kerchief and wiped George’s mouth. “Don’t be sloppy, dear. No one likes a vampire with blood on his mouth.” She turned and continued toward the WWW booth to collect Wang Hu. “Come along, Arthur.”

Arthur, stunned, simply followed Molly. Angelina and Alicia giggled and dragged their respective mates along behind. Ron walked along scuffing at the cobbles and mumbling. Lavender just laughed. “You’re completely impossible. Good thing you’re good in the sack. You can’t seriously be jealous that they’re vampires? They nearly died! Morgana, Ron!”

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Porto Portugal
SE Fortress Roof
Thursday
4 December 2003
19:04

Kassandra Cloud Potter sat faded, thumping her heels on the wall below her and watching the square. Her company was watching an interesting build-up of former Elder vampires, now hybrids. They had come into her zone and had been handed off from Kennedy Colliver Potter. Neither of them had been happy. These were the Spanish hybrids of Cristobal’s, apparently here for some kind of meeting.

Kassandra sat whistling silently and watching. “Don’t kill them, yada yada”—what was Harry thinking? She could snap their necks all by herself. Not mentioning the twelve task-organized squads of her company or Isabell, Monique, and Cindy, her platoon leaders and mates. Attack one of my daughters, you turds! “Kassandra, just leave them. They’ll try it again. We discussed this.”

Kassandra pouted at Harry’s instruction. Harry, back in the Master’s Study with Nym, smiled and gave her a rub.

Hugo Chavez looked at Louis Rodriguez. “We’re being watched, but I can’t see them.”

Louis nodded. “Magic users. The attempt to get a hostage from this Duke of Magic failed. Now he is watching us. Miguel said not to react. He has some more people he wants to send to get a few hostages.”

Hugo nodded tightly. “I still say using the Medellin tactics against this Duke is a mistake. He is not the Colombian government, to be cowed. He will use force. They always do at first. We don’t have any magic users, they all disappeared. The mortal magic users won’t oppose this Duke at any price. Apparently he is merciless. Something about lighting people on fire for fun.”

Louis’s vampire reactions made him flinch. He gamely continued, though. “We are faster than these magic users. Just don’t let them point things at you and it will be fine. Now order. We have other things to do tonight.”

Hugo frowned. Reporting on their territories was not exactly earth shattering. Hell, if Miguel would accept written reports rather than making them do these weekly video conferences he could have his accountant do it.

In the Master’s Study of Potter Castle Nym smiled and pushed Harry down in the loveseat. Kassandra squirmed and Occluded the Alphas as Nym’s lips closed on Harry’s left nipple. Nym was such an oral girl lately. Kassandra reinforced her shield as Harry pulled Nym’s hand to his mouth and gently tongued her palm. The bonded braced as the Alphas slowly built each other to a long, slow, shuddering orgasm with lips, tongues, teeth, and intent.

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Potter Castle
Mates’ Sitting Room
Thursday
4 December 2003
21:00

Mandy Brocklehurst Potter huffed and threw a pillow at the telly. “Why do you watch that trash, Mandy? You know how it’s going to go, you’ve seen it before.”

Mandy looked at Sally Anne. “Hoping it changes, I guess. I mean, how creatively crippled do you have to be to use the main character death, but it’s all a dream of the hero or a giant fake-out device? I mean, talk about clichéd and overused!”

Sally Anne laughed. “And just exactly how do you think it got to be clichéd and overused, silly?”

Mandy grumbled, and Sally Anne sat and leaned on her partner. “Just watch your show, Mandy.”

Mandy was petulant. “Why? The hero is all put upon and conflicted, married to the wrong woman and naming his children after his enemies.” She punched the system power-off button on her remote. “I think I’m done with books and movies for a while. I mean, our life is much more fun and we don’t have to be all angst-ridden and conflicted. Someone does something we don’t like and we beat the hell out of them and then Harry lights them on fire.”

Sally Anne grinned. “Let me introduce you to a whole new kind of book, my dear.” She produced a copy of her new bodice-ripper, Oregon, and opened it, placing her left arm around Mandy and holding the book between them.

Meanwhile in the children’s wing, Harry was currently buried in a pile of children and the Alphas and Primaries were laughing at his predicament. Lily, Miriam, and Carmen had led the ambush on their father and were buried somewhere at the bottom of the pile. The initial objective had been to tickle Da, but it had quickly devolved into a tickle war. The mates with toddlers and infants smiled at the squealing and came to watch.

Edward and Sophia stood watching. Sophia was smiling gently. “It will be fine, Soph. Marcia, Melissa, and Jennifer are very happy with our progress.”

Sophia smiled at Edward. “You don’t mind me staying here?”

“Staying? No.”

Sophia leaned in and kissed Edward. “That’s all I’m doing and you know it, you goof.”

“Rats, that Hildegard Grandview is hot! I was hoping to work a trade with Harry like Andrew did.”

Edward got a playful backhand in the chest. “As if she’d have you. She’s on her fourth powerkind.”

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Potter Castle
Deep Hold
Friday
5 December 2003
09:00

Harry rolled across the floor, spending the energy imparted by Lilith’s roundhouse kick. He popped to his feet into a straight-arm heel of hand blow from Nym. He rolled again. He had their rhythm now and this time where he would normally have popped up he continued his roll right through Na Wen. Still on the ground, he spun and locked his legs on Sarah while parrying blows from Lilith and Nym.

“DRAW!” Janet’s shout brought a halt to the Alphas’ sparring session. “Harry, you were slow there.”

To the casual observer—hell, to the experienced observer—it would not have appeared so. The action had all occurred in less than a second. Harry nodded; he had been slow. The Alphas could always land a blow or two between them, but seldom did they all get good hits in as they had today. “No excuse, Janet; too many things on the peabrain.”

Janet eyed him askance. She knew he only had one thing on his brain right now: the fight last night between Morgan Erskine Potters’s scout company and that group of hybrid vampires in and near Hogsmeade. The hybrids had pursued them, apparently by smell as they were Disillusioned. Morgan had tried everything to hold them off but finally, near the Shrieking Shack, she had turned and in violation of all the precepts they knew, she fought her scout company. Harry and the mates had arrived very quickly but orbited out of sight and left Morgan’s company the kills.

Harry had watched as Tatum Weymss Potter and her platoon had fought off three concerted attacks before the hybrids were all killed. They had gone straight for the eighteen-year -old Tatum, even to the extent of ignoring her squad and company other than trying to neutralize them. It was the reason they failed really, as the company absorbed the blow on its second platoon and enveloped the hybrids, taking them under a withering crossfire. The UVNS (Ultra Violet Nano Silver) rounds were horridly effective. The Guards didn’t worry about stray rounds much; the shields from the runestones deflected the very few stray rounds from the deliberate aimed rifle and pistol fire, the only automatic fire coming from the hybrids.

Harry was still contemplating why they had attacked Tatum. He was unprepared for the embarrassing turn the conversation suddenly took. Nym looked at Harry and said, “Because she’s on her period, Harry. They oriented on the blood smell.” Harry’s flaming face could have lit the room. His mates laughed. Nym continued, “Why are you embarrassed, Harry? You know when every one of us is on our period and it’s never bothered you.”

If Harry could have dug his toe into the flagstone flooring of the deep hold he would have. “Don’t know, Nym, just seems like something we shouldn’t talk about.”

The Alphas chuckled. He was such an innocent still. Sarah looked at Harry. “You don’t think that’s it though, do you, her being on her period?”

Harry shook his head. “Not really, The first crew went after Lily, those ones Kassandra was watching paid too much attention to Jasmine’s platoon, and now this direct attack on Tatum. This rising hybrid leader is attacking the youngest of my women. Why? What could his purpose be? The first one of them that he harms in any way will be his death.”

Harry got a hug from Nym and warm thoughts from the bonded. Nym said, “Why don’t we go find out, Harry? We have those hybrids from the attack on Lily. They should be healed by now.”

Harry nodded and Mopsy appeared with a hybrid. The hybrid immediately attacked. Harry didn’t even bother with magic but caught him on the cheek bone with a huge overhand right.

Jesus DeSanto was surprised when the mortal male smashed him into the floor. He popped to his feet only to meet another overhand blow. The mortal was smiling. Jesus growled and changed.

The Alphas, Janet, and Mopsy watched as Harry handed out a punishing lesson in hand to hand combat. Finally Jesus yielded. He looked up through swollen eyes. “Who are you to judge me, mortal?”

Harry smiled a darkly vicious smile that would have done Lucius Malfoy proud. “No one. I’m not judging you, I’m using you. You attacked my child. You weren’t strong enough to complete your mission. I’ll strip your mind if I have to to learn what I want and then you’ll be made an example of. It will be exceedingly painful, horrific to watch, and revolting to remember. Fortunately for you, you’ll probably become insane shortly into the process.”

The Alphas and Janet started. Harry’s delivery of what had popped into his mind at the question had been a snarling bolt of sickening darkness. Jesus cowered on the floor. Harry snarled at him and dove into his mind.

Jesus De Santo’s mind was a disordered mass of instinct and impulse. Harry blasted through that and found his instructions. There was no reason behind them specifically, but the Medellin tactics were well known: take hostages to ensure compliance. Even if the government or business official complied, however, the hostages were never returned. Normally they were turned into sex slaves and addicted to drugs. Jesus assumed Miguel Cristobal would do the same with these. It would be fun; they were all in very nice shape. Sure, some of them weren’t that pretty, but who cared? They were for fucking, not for marriage.

The mates flinched as Harry’s plan came undone, or so they thought. Jesus DeSanto burst into flame and disappeared. Reports immediately flowed into the magical forces’ current operations room that a flaming body had appeared in Miguel Cristobal’s hacienda and was currently chasing him around, screaming incoherently. The Alphas and Janet picked these reports up from the battle captain mates and turned to Harry.

Harry shrugged. “Have to keep the next one sane enough to deliver the message.”

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Potter Castle
Master’s Study
Saturday
6 December 2003
09:00

“No, Father, I don’t think so. They tried to kidnap my Lily to be used as a sex slave. You’re lucky I don’t hunt down their families and wipe their lines from the race. I think I’m being very charitable about it by only killing them.”

Father Jozef, known to most as Pope John Paul II, blinked. Harry had never refused a suggestion before. Now what was he to do? “Harry, it’s beyond the pale. You cannot simply keep lighting these hybrids on fire and having them chase Miguel Cristobal all over South America, all the while slowly burning and moaning about what’s going to happen to him when the Duke of Magic catches him. It’s horrifying. People who see it are being traumatized.”

Harry grinned. “Oh good, it worked then. You can’t imagine how hard it is to light vampires on fire and get them to burn slowly; mostly they just seem to want to go whoosh! and that would never do. Entirely too quick! How is Miguel holding up?”

Father Jozef sighed and shook his head. Prioress Agnes was made of sterner stuff, however, and was not about to give in. “Harry Potter! You know you can’t do this. It’s a sin.”

“Why?”

Agnes looked baffled, so Harry asked again. “Why is it a sin?”

Agnes pressed her lips into a thin line. “Thou shall not kill.”

“No worries, then—well, not many. They’re vampires and mostly dead anyway.”

Agnes shifted to the New Testament. “Jesus our Lord teaches us to judge not lest we be judged, and to forgive.”

Harry smiled. “We’re all going to be judged anyway, but I’m not judging them, I’m simply using them to get a point across. As for forgiveness, I’ve done nothing wrong.”

Agnes latched onto that. “So you’re snuffing out the remainder of these poor creatures’ lives in the most horrible way possible to make a point?”

Harry beamed. “Very good. Glad to see you got it.”

“You can’t do this!”

“Oh, but I can, Prioress. I have and I’ll continue, and it will only get worse from here. People will leave me and mine alone or pay the price. The price will continue to get worse and worse until I finally reach a point where everyone understands. God, your God, can do with them as he wills. He’s all-powerful—if He doesn’t like it, He can do something about it.”

“Blasphemy!”

“Gahh, go on with ye.” Harry waved and a silencing dome coalesced around Agnes, who was working herself up to a serious fit, or an aneurism, one of the two.

Father Jozef shook his head as Nym faded into the Study. “Harry, what did you do?”

“Tried arguing with an idiot.”

“Harry!”

Nym looked at Harry, who sat behind his desk in a stony silence. She blew at her bangs and disappeared, taking the Prioress with her.

Jozef looked at Harry. “Perhaps God is doing something about it Harry. Perhaps he sent Agnes and me here.”

“Hrrmmph! He’d better try again, then, ’cause this isn’t going to stop me. They’ll submit or die. If they hurt one of my kids or mates they’ll all die anyway. Go tell that to your priest who is counseling Miguel. This interview is over.”

Father Jozef found himself sitting in the mates’ study with Queen Elizabeth, Bartholomew, Agnes, and the Dalai Lama. “Well, that didn’t work.”

“Jozef, you will issue a writ.”

“No, Agnes, I will not. I will not undo years of work and have him take on the Church. Some things will be between Our Lord and the Duke.”

Elizabeth smiled. “Quite right, Your Holiness.”

Bartholomew nodded. “We have expressed our feeling that our God, or gods, would disagree. Now Harry must decide for himself.”

Lilith snorted. “No worries there. He already has.”

Father Jozef turned to her. “And you, Lilith?”

Lilith smiled; it was chilling. “Do you really want to know?”

The Pope shook his head slightly and Lilith gave a throaty chuckle. “See? The answer came to you.”


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Potter Castle
Master’s Study
Saturday
6 December 2003
09:15

Lily and Carmen charged into the Master’s Study. Carly Boss Potter felt the daughters coming, sighed deeply, and turned her lightened self sideways in Harry’s lap, rearranging her skirt. Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on your point of view, she had not yet gotten Harry all the way out of his mad.

Lily looked up at her. “Sorry, Mum, we’ll come back.” She began to back up, as did Carmen.

Carly smiled. “It’s fine, dear. Da can take you to the promenade.” She leaned up and whispered, “After that I get some Harry time,” and nipped Harry on the earlobe.

Lily beamed. “Thanks, Mum. Come on, Da.” With Carmen’s assistance she took Harry under tow and dragged him away.

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Godric’s Hollow
Sports Ground
Saturday
6 December 2003
09:20

“And the Duke is on the Promenade, gentle beings. So a nice Saturday appears to be in the offing. The Ducal box is filling rapidly, as is the whole of the grounds with their Royal Highnesses back into their normal routine with His Highness. Now a word from our sponsor, Scrivenshaft’s of Hogsmeade.”

Glenda leaned back from the MTV feed of Harry and the kids on the promenade she had been studying and describing in minute detail and relaxed. A good day was in the offing. Harry looked mad but relaxed. Obviously something was up but he wasn’t letting it affect him, and every time he looked at his children Glenda’s heart and the heart of every other woman in the realm with MTV sets leapt into their throats. Duke Panty Dampener was back, and good riddance to Duke Firestarter. Well, not good riddance as he was part of it, but it was much better when he only appeared on Sunday evenings.

“…so for all your stationery needs Scrivenshaft’s of Hogsmeade, Stationers to Clan Potter by appointment since 1998.”

“And we’re back, gentle beings. His Highness has just ducked into Gladrags’, so mothers, keep a hand on your wizards. Meanwhile Her Majesty has arrived with His Holiness, the Patriarch, and that ever so cute Dalai Lama.”

“Agnes, don’t pout!”

Prioress Agnes looked at Elizabeth. “He silenced me, ma’am.”

“You were being hard headed, Agnes. We talked about this. He’s going to kill those nine no matter what. Sure, what he is doing is horrifying, but it may in the end save some of the idiots. Some people can only understand the ruthless application of brute force. We will educate them to understand how to act human in time, but for now an object lesson may not go amiss. This Miguel Cristobal looks to be the dominant renegade, so Harry started with him.”

“And when he retaliates because Harry has challenged him, ma’am?”

Elizabeth sighed. “Let’s hope he’s smarter than that. I don’t want to go through another Angola.”

Agnes shuddered. The memory was too fresh: a ravening monster—hundreds of ravening monsters—loosed on those wizards. The least it had been was ghastly.

A great mixed cheer and groan drew their attention to the center pitch where the Myrddin house team from Durmstrang had just scored on the Beauxbatons Slytherin.

Out on the Promenade Harry had shooed the girls out the door of Gladrags’ when the strings and rifle patches started coming out of drawers and ambled over to the WWW booth behind his pouting daughters and grinning sons. Harry could not understand fourteen-year-old females’ fascination with underwear. And damn! if they wanted it comfortable it should be made from good sturdy cotton, not dental floss and that lace.

As he ambled, he suddenly narrowed his eyes as the girls were hypnotized and drifted away, zombie-like, to a new booth. Harry looked in the window, groaned, and conjured a table. Dobby appeared and laid a light snack. Harry sat under the new sign, resigned to his fate, Lucinda’s Leather goods—shoes, bags, and accessories—having swallowed his daughters and apparently most of the female population of the realm whole.

The door opened and along with a belch of high-pitched squeals of glee Lucinda popped out and with Hestia’s, Molly, and Hermione’s Marilyn dragged the Duke inside, all the while gushing like a geyser. Nym’s James and Hestia’s Jonathan watched gravely and then, as soon as their father was out of sight, attacked his plate of crullers.

“Great Googly Moogly (inserted by censors), Daniel, that was a very powerful stone-forming hex by Duchess Camille. She’s gone straight through Throckmorton’s shield and—yes, it’s over. Winner Potter, and they’ll be all night turning Throckmorton back to flesh.”

“I’m sure you’re right, Alastor, and on stage two we’ve just seen Polly Anne Puddifoot completely befuddle Caracticus Burke Junior with some kind of pink mist from her wand.”

“Puddifoot family magic that is, some kind of love spell.”

“Those exist, Alastor?”

“In theory. But I bet the Duke stomps on that soon.”

Daniel grinned. “Yes, we know how he feels about alleged love compulsions.”

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Godric’s Hollow
Sports Ground
Sunday
7 December 2003
21:04

Hestia opened court and Harry seated Nym on her curule chair and took his own seat. He wanted to lounge and missed his old director’s chair, but Bellatrix and Narcissa insisted and constantly prodded him about posture and appearance as Amelia Fastida and Allison chortled in the background. They knew the explosion was coming and Amelia Bones Potter reminded the Black sisters of the last time. They continued, unconcerned. Harry’s punishments were fun too, sometimes.

Harry smiled and shook his head. Cranston Craddock saw the smile and head shake from his position in the dock and nearly lost bladder control. He was here for petty theft. No shaking head, no shaking head!

“Harry, pay attention.”

“Yes, Cissy”

Oh no, now Himself was frowning.

“Harry, sit up.”

“Yes, Bella.”

Oh Merlin, not the scowl, please! What the hell was that locket he’d stolen? It looked barely valuable all melted like that. Now it looked as if he was going to get fried to a grease spot over it.

Tracey smirked. “Harry, fix your hair.”

Harry leapt to his feet. “Merlin’s flaming penis! I’m trying to listen here.” He looked around at his mates, who were all smiling. He turned back to Cranston with a stormy expression and Cranston’s eyes rolled up in his head as he went over backwards in a dead faint. Harry looked surprised as the mates snickered and the sound of Galleons changing hands filled the air.

Griselda Marchbanks rolled her eyes, and Auror Cindy Hendricks née Wallace conjured a bucket of water and threw it on Cranston Craddock. He came up sputtering and wiping his face, and then he looked around. “I just left here! I knew I was going to hell, but who knew the devil had a sense of humor? I knew it! He’s the devil himself!”

The crowd broke up laughing. It took ten minutes to restore order.

Griselda finally continued .“Cranston Craddock, being found guilty of theft repeatedly and having been confined on multiple occasion, it is the judgment of the Wizengamot that you are an habitual criminal.”

Cranston made the mistake of looking at Harry and his eyes started to roll up again. Cindy stepped up and Ennervated him as the crowd chuckled.

Griselda snapped. “Show some backbone, man! You are bound over to His Highness for judgment.”

This time not even Cindy’s Ennervate kept Cranston on his feet. She and her rookie partner Kyle Jensen were forced to hoist Cranston up and haul him in front of the Duke. They dropped him in a pile in front of Harry with disgusted looks.

Harry looked at Cranston and shook his head. He nodded his thanks to the Aurors. Hestia handed Harry a large scroll and he unrolled the top as he rolled up the bottom. As he kept rolling and rolling, Nym and Hestia chatted with Cindy. “So how’s that mate treating you, Cindy?”

“Fine, Nym.”

“And the baby?”

“She’s fine, Hestia. Why, got a Potter boy in mind?”

Sarah spoke up from the bottom of the Ducal box. “All of them, Cindy. You know how it works.”

Cindy smiled at the thought, as did all of the mothers of daughters within hearing. There were hundreds of Potter boys, all apparently very powerful; it was a comfort.

Harry had finally reached the end of the scroll and quickly rolled it back to the top. “You must be kidding!”

The mates focused and found Harry staring at the name Black. They widened their perception and found the scroll was a list of injured parties listed by estimated losses. The Blacks were at the top of the list.

“He’ll be running a gang.”

“Well, you could keep him, Harry.”

“I don’t want him, Bella. Hey, you could keep him—or you, Cissy.”

“No, thank you, Harry!”

“Errrh, yes—no thank you, dear.”

“Oh Harry, quit grumbling and bind him to House Black. Once he’s worked that debt off, if he’s still alive he can go to, let’s see, Greengrass.”

Harry nodded at Nym reluctantly. He gave a wave and the Black crest appeared on the inside of Cranston Craddock’s arm. “Lord Black.”

“Yes Harighness?”

Sirius got a glare from the mates and a pinch from Melinda and Vicki Black. Rose Lupin chuckled as Sirius danced an odd little two-step.

“Please take your bondsman and find gainful employment for him.”

Sirius walked to the edge of the pitch and stood under Harry’s glare with his innocent face on as Cranston Craddock made his way over to his new master after bowing floridly to Harry.

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Godric’s Hollow
Sports Ground
Monday
8 December 2003
04:00

Gwenog rolled over and looked at the cleared mattress-covered area in the back of the Dragon’s Den, hidden from the bar by a partition wall but open to the stage. Meghan McCormack Potter was currently headed toward muscle failure on the mattresses with Harry. The rest of the professional Quidditch girls had had a go and the Uni girls had had their recompense on the first turning. It looked like there was not going to be another today as the Den already looked like a casualty ward minus the blood, bodies everywhere. Plus they had the Clan run tonight with all these new girls.

Gwenog snuggled down into her beanbag, just taking a moment to herself. Being a mate was great, Quidditch was still fun, and her and Harry’s babies—well, you couldn’t ask for better. But it was nice to just sit. The only thing better than this would be the tub. Well, they would make it there after PT. She looked around and giggled. Hermione was still out, tied face -down over that ottoman with her bright pink butt sticking up. Who knew little miss bossy just needed a good spanking?

“Penny for them.”

Gwenog looked up and then followed Rose Turnbull Potter down into the beanbag beside her with her eyes. “Hey Rose, just admiring the mates.”

“As you should. Fine specimens of witch we are.”

Gwenog gave Rose a playful shove. “Cheeky!”

Rose rolled over and looked over her own shoulder. “Yes, and one of the parts Harry likes best.”
Gwenog rolled her eyes as those around them chuckled. “Yes, we noticed Harry liking your butt earlier. That bite is going to leave a mark.”

Rose nodded enthusiastically to her mates’ laughter.

The door to the den opened and Agnes Jump Potter Crumfield walked in and fell into a beanbag with Joyce Murphy Potter, her erstwhile schoolmate and ward sister. “What, Agnes, no protest?”

“I’ve given up. It never did any good anyway, you all just kept shagging like bunnies.”

Joyce looked at her. “And what will Reggie say?”

Agnes snorted. “‘Good’, probably. He’s always been on Da’s side.”

Agnes pouted as her sisters and mums laughed. Joyce chided her, “Don’t pout, dear, it will give you wrinkles.”

“Yes, Mum. Hey! No fair!” Agnes wrestled with Joyce until she found herself thoroughly albeit gingerly pinned. The recovery from delivering her baby was preventing her from moving well.

Rosmerta suddenly had a thought. “Agnes, why are you up? It’s what—four in the morning?”

“Couldn’t sleep. Been having gas pains or something.” Agnes blushed.

Jennifer held her wand out and thought, and then looked at the readings. “Ha! Gas my foot. Still recovering.”

Agnes looked at her belly. “No fair; you all recovered in weeks.”

The mates laughed. Nym raised her head. “Agnes, you aren’t drawing on the bond. Do you want your father to fix it?”

Meghan chose that moment to give a tearing groan and collapse onto Harry. Harry lay with the sweat-soaked Meghan wrapped in his arms and looked at his mates staring at him. “What?”

Agnes chuckled. “Reggie probably wouldn’t say ‘good’ to that.”

Lilith chuckled. “Not that way, Agnes. Come here.”

Later, after Harry had recovered, they were all out in the bedroom with Reggie and Harry pacing nervously and Harry putting cushioning charms on everything for some idiot reason as Lilith worked on Agnes. She kept finding little muscle tears and fixing them.

Agnes rolled her eyes and Nym huffed and waved her hand. Harry and Reggie disappeared.

Agnes looked at Nym. “Where did you send them, Mum?”

“Brazil, near Cristobal’s hacienda.”

“Mum! Reggie—”

“—will be fine. Your idiot father won’t let anything happen to him.”

The mates kept an “eye” on Harry and Reggie in the bond as they moved about, restoring order. The kids were not amused. Da had turned the whole place into one of those Muggle bouncing castles and now the mums were ruining everything.

Harry, meanwhile, had materialized at the edge of a jungle and as he started to fade himself and Reggie back he got a stern, “Oh hell no! Agnes needs some quiet. You two can come back when or if she wants to see you. And don’t let Reggie get hurt, Harry.”

Harry pouted and slapped the hybrid that came charging out of the jungle about fifteen meters in the air. Reggie fired up a flame whip and the battle was on. Hybrids came flowing in from all over and flowed back out again in different directions, usually with some part of their clothing or their hair on fire.

Laura Baran Potter and her scout platoon watched and Harry and Hedwig’s owlets Lavender and Seamus float overhead. The betting pool in the current operations center was growing by the moment. The signal was relayed to both Imperial palaces and their current operations rooms. The Realm’s military command and control slowly ground to a halt watching.

“Pitior, care for a wager?”

Pitior looked at Sergei. “No. Wait—what wager?”

“The hybrids will attack Reginald and the Tsar will kill them all.”

Pitior shook his head. “That’s a given, Sergei. If they make a move toward Reginald, Tsar Harry will run amok. They’re bound to make that move sooner or later, as Reginald is obviously the weaker.”

“So we bet on how long, then?”

“Fifteen minutes and a bottle of vodka.”

Sergei grinned. He thought he saw some glimmers of organization among the hybrids. “Ten and done.”

Sergei proved correct and the hybrids were saved by the tearing pain of a full contraction in Agnes. Not all of them, but Harry’s wall—well, circle—of flame cut off like a Zippo with the cover snapped when he faded himself and Reggie to the bedroom at Agnes’s call. Only the first two ranks of the circle were immolated.

“Pay up, Pitior.”

“He only killed thirty or forty, Sergei.”

“You piker!”

Pitior frowned and rose, grumbling, to go get a bottle. Sergei smiled broadly.

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Imperial Palace
Kunming
Monday
8 December 2003
18:00

“Stop pouting, Harry!”

Harry silently mocked Nym. It had been a rough day. First she had sent him away. Then Agnes had called them back just when Harry was getting limbered up.

“HARRY!”

Harry put on his innocent-dad face as his Warg children wolf-laughed around him, mouths open, eyes dancing, no sound coming out. Nym glared around and the sound of jaws snapping shut filled the night. Nym rolled her eyes. “Change and let’s go, Harry.” Nym fitted deeds to words and suddenly there was a giant Warg standing there.

Harry changed and led the pack, including the Nightmares, Unicorns, Centaurs, Dragons, Werewolves, Wargs, and Owls, to the west—first at a walk and then a trot, leading into a mile-eating gallop. The ground actually trembled at their passing.

“You should ease up, Nym. At least he didn’t go completely stupid over Agnes being hurt. And he did entertain the grandbabies for a bit while she rested.”

“Hmmph.”

Melinda snorted a little fire. “That’s what has her so upset, Hesti?”

“How could Harry not going nuts upset her?”

“Not that—‘grandbabies’.”

Hestia’s shock, followed by her laughter and Nym’s embarrassment in the bond, amused them all.

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Godric’s Hollow
Potter’s Field
Thursday
11 December 2003
18:00

Harry led the last chorus of “For he, she or it’s a jolly good fellow” and stepped politely aside as the birthday party came to full roaring life. Hermione was still upset at the change to the schedule in the last moment, but it did make more sense to move the parties away from the sport.

Harry was walking among the throng in the Potter’s Field and its weather-charmed beer garden smiling, laughing, and joking, happier than the mates had seen him in at least half a year. It was going to be a good evening.

Sally Ann Cromwell looked out over the packed Pub and smiled, then she shook her head. It would be another long night; profitable, but long. Oh well, once more into the breach. “Angelic, who’s running the downstairs?” The pub, now four stories above ground and four below, had a captain per floor with a company of service troops, cooks, waiters, barmen, barbacks, waitresses, and medics. All the taprooms had giant screens and pictures of Harry with that bloody whip. Mostly they were genial places, but the lowest downstairs level under Brushaxe’s command could get a little rowdy as it was mostly all Goblin all the time.

Angelic, the main floor commander and service battalion S3, grinned. “Brushaxe, and she’s a leetle moody.”

Sally Ann grinned. “Well, I may have to stop in later and watch the entertainment then.” Brushaxe in a mood pinned Goblins to the walls, literally, with knives. The idiots loved it. She was a fine figure of a Goblin on a giant scale, 2.3 meters tall, Goblin heart-stoppingly beautiful, and strong as an ox, and brooked very little nonsense at any time—none when she was in a mood. “I’ll warn the medics too.”

Angelic nodded. “I did already but another might be useful.”

Sally Ann’s eyes widened slightly. Brushaxe must really be in a mood. Hmmm, better wander off down there.

Sally Ann arrived just in time to see the opening blow of the apparent mating struggle going on between Brushaxe and Harry. It was a good one. Brushaxe drove the knife deep into the surprised Harry’s thigh. The room exploded in noise. Harry’s surprise didn’t last long and he waved his hand over the wound, smiled, changed, and charged Brushaxe. She got him twice more before he had her naked and pinned. Brushaxe howled out her taking to the cheers of the crowd and chomped down on Goblin Harry’s shoulder before Grindaknívur waved and the joined couple faded away. The watching Goblins beat their fists on their chests and gave a joyously terrifying chant before surging to the bar to toast the happy couple.

In the roof garden of the Castle Brushaxe stanched Harry’s wounds in the traditional manner and eeped as she found herself flipped over and engaged in some decidedly nontraditional activities. The eep morphed to a growl, nontraditional but very, very nice. And what was this? Oh, the bond that the other Goblin women talked about…oh, this was nice. Oh, and the princess royal, hmmm? Bet she has some nice ideas about what to do with the mate...let’s see, oh my yes. Hmm, leg up here, hand down here, and unnnngh...oh yessssss, oh gods he’s huge.

On the main floor Nym looked at Lilith and giggled. Poor Harry, he had to stop getting mad. Every time he did he got a new mate, it seemed. Lilith smiled back and they circulated one more time. They were giving Brushaxe some more Harry time before they moved the bonded and their guests to the Castle for the Clan party.

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Godric’s Hollow
Royal Academy and Royal Lake
Friday
12 December 2003
18:00

Harry strolled the Promenade with Nym on one arm and Sarah on the other. The sport was under way, the winter carnival was winding down, and the School Ball was just an hour away. Harry was having a grand time.

In the rooms under the stands connected to the new six o’clock tunnel in the sports grounds the females of the Royal Academy were in a flurry of preparation, at least those from the Royal Academy, Hogwarts, Durmstrang and Beauxbatons anyway. Harry and selected bonded were Turned twenty-four times attending the other carnivals, balls, and parties on the schedule for today. Massive mental shields were the order of the day for the bonded.

Jean gave Ewa an eyebrow after studying Irma’s very red, very lacey, miniscule lingerie. “Irma, not planning anything, are you, sweetie?”

“Boy Scout,” Irma shot back.

“Beg pardon?” Jean beetled her brows.

“Be prepared—the Boy Scout motto.”

Charlotte looked up, in her own ivory lace and satin miniscule lingerie. “Irma! No fair. I get first crack at His Highness.”

Rosalie rolled her eyes. “Charlotte, you’re already on the list. Let a girl take a shot, luv.”

Connie nodded. “Rosalie is right, Charlotte. Don’t be greedy. Irma just wants to find out if anything is there. You know how it is with His Highness, though; if something is there you’re liable to end up—well, ah, busy—yes, that’s a good word—busy very quickly.”

Ewa shook her head. “I still say we should just get one of the mums to touch her. That would sort it in jig time.”

Irma sighed. “You’ve no romance in your soul, Ewa.”

Ewa nodded. “Thank Morgana! That way I don’t have to waste all that time being all moony.”

Irma gave her the tongue and a pout.

Harry stopped in front of a new booth that Narcissa had added on the path from the school to the sports grounds. That path and the path to the public Apparition point had sprouted booths when demand had not abated. “Path” was a little deceptive. “Broad, granite-paved avenue” was more descriptive, but as no vehicle traffic was allowed, everyone stuck with the original “path”. All the booths were linked to their parent stores by rune-protected transport arm stone pairs now except for Gringotts, which used a Goblin method.

“Oooh, Nym, here it is. They deep-fry anything here.”

Nym’s interest was piqued, while Sarah was scandalized. “That’s horribly bad for you. Why, you could get heart disease or diabetes or—” She stopped, listening to the medical mates snickering in the bond. All of those conditions had magical cures, and it wasn’t like they were going to get fat. The bonded were already constantly eating. Between work, PT, military and social duties, and the sex, they were all burning calories at a prodigious rate. Every time they stopped moving there was an elf at their elbow with a tray of something, it seemed. Harry and the pregnant mates were on the highest caloric intakes, though, ten thousand calories-plus in Harry’s case. “Well, perhaps a banana for me, Harry.” Harry got a huge grin and Sarah blushed slightly. “Go on, sex fiend, just get me the banana. I’ll show you what I can do with one later…if you’re good.”

Nym and Sarah laughed as Harry scampered away like a schoolboy chasing the trolley on the Express after finding a Galleon in the cushions. The bonded joined the laughter. Harry could be so cute sometimes.

“Think you can actually cut one into pieces that way?”

“I don’t know, Nym, but for that amount of heat in him I’m going to try my best.”

Nym nodded. “All those PC exercises should help.”

Sarah nodded as the mates speculated and planned. He might be cute but he was also a little kinky sometimes. It was fun. “We know, Eugenie—adventurous is a feather, kinky is the whole chicken, and perverted is an ostrich. Are you dressed yet, dear?”


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Godric’s Hollow
Royal Academy and Royal Lake
Friday
12 December 2003
19:30

Raphael George Montosori scanned the bowl again. Amazing really, the best assassin in the world and he was reduced to kidnapping to earn a living. It was all the Duke’s fault; no one had the stones to hire an assassin when they would get burned alive just like he would if caught. This Duke wasn’t kidding, though; wardstones and troops everywhere. It had taken all of Raphael’s skill as a magic-using vampire to infiltrate the bowl—skill and a month. He had to move soon or the urge to feed that he had been fighting for a week would take over and he would be exposed. Just find one of the female children with green eyes, stun her, put her in stasis, shrink her, and leave. Simple plans were always best.

Fuck! another line of the wardstones. He would have to change again and fly over them. This could be bad with all those owls about. Some of those were said to be his children, too. Raphael turned his eyes skyward and searched with his mage sight. Fuck, there were hundreds of Disillusioned troops on brooms up there and four ruddy great Dragons.

Raphael paused, then shrugged. This had stopped being about the five million Galleon half-payment long ago; it was a challenge now. He changed and flew up, echo-sounding just enough to “see”; at four hundred feet he leveled off, flew straight ahead for four hundred feet, and dropped like a stone.

Persephone out of Hedwig by Harry, Hermione’s owl companion, snatched Raphael out of the air just before he reached the ground, after locking him in his Animagus form. She swooped back up on her silent wings and went to find her father. He would want this one.

Harry was in the middle of the dance floor surrounded by Potter daughters and dancing with a dazed Irma when Persephone winged in. She smirked and flew to Nym mother, dropping the wounded bat in her lap and landing on the table.

A startled Nym looked down and moved to grab the bat when suddenly Amelia Fastida was there. Amelia scooped up the bat, stunned it, locked it in stasis, and pocketed it. “I’ve been waiting for you, Raphael. Stupid boy. This will cost your life.”

“Amelia?”

“Raphael George Montosori, Nym. Vampire magic user and assassin. Very nice job, Persephone.”

A brace of coneys appeared in front of Persephone and she immediately stunned them both. She took one in each talon and leapt into the air. “Thank you, Amelia Fastida mother.”

Nym looked at Amelia and nodded tightly. Vampires were hers to deal with. Apparently this one would be dealt with harshly. She looked back out over the dancing crowd and chuckled. Little dazed Slytherins were hers, and this one would obviously need to go on the list. Irma something, one of Jean and Ewa’s. Morgana ,was every girl in that group going to end up bonded?

“I think so, Mum, at least mate-bonded.”

“Why, Ewa?”

“They feel that way, Nym.”

“You can feel that, Ewa, and you’re only intent-bonded?”

“Well yes, Lilith, why?”

“It’s unusual, dear. You’ll have a very tight bond with your father.”

“Lilith!”

“Oh fine, Harry. With Harry, Ewa.”

“Oh come on, Da, it’s not that bad.”

“Ewa!”

“What? Oooh, can I have a spanking like Hermione?”

The bonded cracked up at Harry’s stunned mental spluttering. Ewa’s little shiver of anticipation had totally discomfited him.

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Potter Castle
Saturday
13 December 2003
04:00

Harry continued his patrol of the Castle. The prison break party had gone spectacularly well; Jean was pleased and exhausted. The only children left around now were the seventh years and up. They had been up all night discussing “deep” issues.

“Harry, leave them alone. You were—errrh, never mind. It’s just something young people do.”

“Oh, so like being all spotty and angsty then, Alexis? They’ll grow out of it?”

Alexis Rookwood Potter smiled. “Yes, Mr. Well Adjusted Spot Free. Don’t forget all that whinging and agonizing you used to do.”

Harry smiled and continued prowling. There had to be a beau he could make piss himself somewhere.

“Daddy! Don’t go ruining my party.”

“Shhh, Jean, I’m hunting boyfriend.”

“DADDY!”

Jean panicked a little and started to rise as Harry Occluded everything except his presence from the bonded. Ewa tripped her and pulled her into a loveseat. “Let Da play, Jean. He needs to have some fun too. He won’t hurt them, and like we told Agnes, if they’re any good they’ll stick it out.”

Jean nodded dubiously.

Joan Secker Potter, Hufflepuff Uni Sophomore Potter daughter, was just leading her beau Giles Montrose, Uni Sophomore Ravenclaw, toward the transport stone when Harry spotted them. He followed, and using his parental bond followed them to the roof garden. They followed the path around to the north wing roof, arm in arm and heads closely together. Harry knew they were found and by each other, but no other game was afoot. Feh, boys today—no guts, the lot of ’em.

Harry watched and waited, and just as Giles’ hand slipped inside Joan’s shirt and up against her warm soft belly, he faded into view. If looks could kill Harry would have been a dead man as Joan’s gaze literally heated the air between her and her father. Harry suppressed his laughter when Giles snatched his hand back as if Joan’s taut belly was suddenly red-hot and began to babble incoherently. “Lovely morning, isn’t it, children?”

Harry felt the air heat up another degree or two. “Yes, sir, just what we were thinking, sir. We were going to watch the sunrise. Err...together, but...ahh...separately.”

“Giles, shut up. Is there something we can do for you, Daddy?”

Harry’s eyes widened; that last had been dipped in venom and then rolled in sugar. Have to be very careful here. “Errrh, why no, Joan.”

Joan’s eyes narrowed. “Perhaps there’s something you wanted to do somewhere else, then?”

“YES! Errrh, yes, why, I believe there was. Pardon me.”

Joan smiled. She had won! “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, and remember we have the sport later. Do try to get some sleep.”

Joan looked at Giles’ earnestly nodding head and groaned. A month’s work down the tubes! Giles had been a whole month going from kissing to touching and now he was back to his starting position. Daddy would pay for this.

Harry smiled and faded away. Joan growled. Goddamnit, he couldn’t even walk away and give her a chance to reassure Giles he was gone. Bastard!

Harry wandered off contemplating how to make this up to Joan. He was going to be in so much trouble—ooof! Amelia Fastida, Bellatrix, and Allison tackled him. “What the hell?”

Allison looked at Harry. “We have a vampire to question. We thought you might want to help. And you were a bad Master, interrupting Joan.”

Harry blushed. “I know. I thought Giles had gotten better. I’ll have to make it up to her.”

Bellatrix smiled. “Send them to the townhouse on King’s Bench walk. It’s very romantic with that master bedroom overlooking the Thames.”

Bella got a kiss, lightly fondled, and a serious mental caress for her trouble. Amelia and Allison chuckled at their suddenly semiconscious slave mate as Harry waved. Bella’s solution would prove to Giles, if anything ever would, that Harry approved, especially as he was sitting close to an upset Joan one minute and lying in bed naked in front of a fire with a very nude and surprised Joan the next. Well, Joan would be able to explain it to him, Harry was sure.

Allison winked at Harry. “Cor, very nice. Subtle as a sixteen-inch naval rifle, but very nice all the same. Come on, let’s torture a vampire for a while.”

The pile faded to the courtyard over the cells on Azkaban, and Amelia Fastida removed the vampire from her pocket, forced him out of his bat, Ennervated and Engorgioed him, and then Finited the stasis and they all waited as Raphael George Montosori regained his senses.

Raphael looked up into Amelia Fastida’s full-on vampire face and knew he was finished. He turned his head slightly and found himself looking at a sire that made Marcus Corvinus look like a baby vampire. This was going to hurt. A lot.

Harry smiled. “Good morning, Raphael. Please tell me why I shouldn’t kill you or stick you to the ground and let the sunrise kill you.”

Raphael grimaced. “No reason I can think of, Master.”

Harry blinked. “So you want to die?”

“Well, no, Master, but I knew when I took that contract this would probably happen. I only took it for the challenge. I would have died fighting before I let Cristobal hurt the girl.”

Harry paced. “Why does he keep sending people after my mates and children?”

“Hostages in the classic sense, Master.”

“My arse! That would be negotiated and we would exchange hostages then.”

“Perhaps he misunderstands the concept, Master. I would be glad to explain it to him for you.”

Amelia barked a laugh. “That was a quick change, Montosorri.”

“Mistress must know I am not stupid. The Master has you and you could easily take me. Why should I take a beating to prove that?”

Harry smiled; he liked this vampire more and more. He thought for a moment. “I would save you if I could, Raphael. Show me a way. Bella, stop pouting. If he displeases us you can have him later.”

Raphael thought for a moment and then spoke. “I have only ever killed evil beings.”

Harry smiled. “Go on.”

Raphael outlined his career and Amelia Fastida frowned. Raphael had in fact in her memory acted as she had with the exception of turning no one. That was custom, though. He was operating on his own and turnings would have brought the Elders ‘attention’, something he could not afford. Being out of sight and therefore out of mind was what had saved him all these years. Really an unassuming little fellow, average in all respects except for his pitbull-like tenacity and loads of—ah, chutzpah, yes, that was a good word for it. Harry would of course let him live, softy that he was.

“Not a softy, Amelia, just not wasteful. He could have great utility.”

“Yes, just imagine having the world’s best assassin on exclusive contract.”

“I know, Harry. Bella, how do you intend it to be exclusive?”

“Really, Amelia, where have you been? Harry will just dominate him and mark him. After that he’s Harry’s creature.”

“Sorry, Allison, I don’t know where my mind is.”

“We do, Amelia.”

Amelia blushed gently at her mates’ earthy chuckle. Raphael sighed. Harry looked at him. “So you know what’s coming, then?”

Raphael shrugged. “I have been prepared for my death for a long time, Master.”

Harry laughed. “Oh no, Raphael, we have miles to go before you sleep.” He released his compulsion and focused it on Raphael.

“Harry, you should take him.”

“Urrrgh! Ah, no, Bella. That little fantasy will never get fulfilled, I’m afraid.”

Bella pouted. “But you let us take you.”

“When I’m a girl, Bella, and you’re boys.”

Bella concentrated and focused on Raphael; he made a passable girl. Bella looked expectantly at Harry.

Harry just could not do it. Raphael thanked all the gods he knew. It was not that the Master was unattractive, but he had never been that way in all his 463 years.

Amelia skimmed his/her mind and laughed. “Not unattractive?”

Bella changed him back and Harry sighed in relief. He gave Raphael an unobtrusive brand and some instructions.

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Potter Castle
Saturday
13 December 2003
04:56

“Okay, we have the sport at nine. I do hate to break this up but everyone needs to get some sleep. Breakfast will be in the Ducal box promptly at nine. Ladies, if you could tell the girls?”

“Yes, Nym,” the chorus answered.

“Harry—you, Bella, Allison, and Amelia too. Hestia, let’s turn the Castle three hours once Harry is back.”

“Minus the current operations room, Nym, I have it.”

The bonded rounded up the children, Harry returned and the Castle was Turned. Clan Potter settled and slept.

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Potter Castle
Saturday
13 December 2003
08:47

Judith Pasha Potter let her long black hair fall on either side of her face, effectively curtaining Harry’s face from the other mates, and stared into his eyes as she shuddered through a lingering orgasm. Harry grinned and leaned his head up, and Judith leaned down and took his lower lip in her teeth gently. A marvelous snog rounded out their wake-up routine and the mates growled playfully. If Harry and Judith didn’t stop they would never be ready on time. Who wanted to put on panties when you were already wet?

Cho rolled her eyes and pulled her winter black camel haircloth robe on over an ultra-fine merino wool knee-length Potter tartan skirt and sea silk blouse. She tucked a folded pair of sea-silk panties under the waistband of the skirt, and the cotton crotch lining and elastic waistband weren’t enough to even make a lump.

Muriel’s people had, in their protected and Fidelius-charmed areas of ocean, brought back the environment and the Pinna nobilis mollusk, as well as many other rare and or threatened creatures. Sea-silk was woven from the byssi of these mollusks. It was stunningly beautiful, warm and light as air. Moth repelling charms were a necessity, however. Also it only came in that golden color which the populace had begun associating with the Clan and so stayed away from. Well, unless you were a witch showing your intent.

The mates chuckled and followed Cho’s example. Commando was the order of the day—well, at least for a few more minutes and after a gentle Scourgify. Then they would slip the panties on by just letting the stiff edges of the haircloth winter robes rest on the ground and pulling their arms inside. The things made little private tents and many a Potter child would nap away the afternoon in the warm, mummy-smelling darkness thus afforded while their chosen mother watched the games. Mothers of one set of twins would occasionally find themselves lightening a lapful of two or three as the kids had a nap-over.

The Clan appeared in their places in the Ducal booth just as the first events started and Geoffrey organized the breakfast service.

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Sports Ground
Saturday
13 December 2003
09:12

“Sirius, you don’t have to. You’re a vassal. Julia and Julius are already adopted by Harry and Nym, and so then the Clan. I’m doing very well as Harry’s personal solicitor so I don’t need anything. Just stop worrying about me.”

“But Mooney—ouch, that’s going to leave a mark.” Gryffindor Chita Chaser Beorgei Pruruule had just collided head-on with a Ravenclaw Cape Breton Canada Chaser at full speed. The crack of impact could easily be heard in the Black box where Sirius, Melinda, and Vicki Black sat talking with Rose and Remus Lupin and Andromeda and Ted Tonks. “Someone should get some of this money. Narcissa is making so much money so fast I can’t even keep up with it all. What the hell are derivatives, anyway?”

Ted laughed. “It’s speculation on the speculation of speculation trading, Sirius, and only works on the large scale. We’ve talked about this.”

Andromeda snapped, “Sirius, just shut up and write a simple will. Divide your real property however you see fit and give everyone else a percentage of your money. Remus, Narcissa, and Sjambok—Goblins, really! Who would name their child after a weapon made from a hippo penis? We’ll figure it out. Morgana, Melinda, you and Vicky need to beat him more.”

Sirius’s blush warmed the box momentarily. “Rose! Did you have to tell everyone?”

“Me? You should have contained your activities to the bedroom or that playroom you had that horrid elf set up downstairs. Hermione and Susan saw you in the library one day earlier this year, so now the whole Potter bond knows about your amusements.”

Sirius paled; they only played in the library when space was needed. Andromeda laughed. “And see? they don’t think less of you. Well, they couldn’t really anyway. Oh, stop pouting. For all your Gryffindor you’re still a Black, and Harry has three of them running around in his head. Merlin, what that must be like!”

“Nothing on the Grangers and Greengrasses, apparently.”

All the women turned to Rose and she continued. “Lauren says....” The males fled; the Silencio would have excluded them anyway. Witches would tell each other anything, but wizards were best off not knowing most of it.

Ted looked around. “Let’s go over to the butts. I want to try my hand.”

Sirius’s eyes lit up. He had become addicted to firearms. Remus groaned and followed. “Buck up, Mooney, don’t be such a purist.”

Remus looked offended. “I’m not, Padfoot, but if the young people come to depend on the things what will happen to magic?”

Ted nodded but countered, “Shouldn’t be a problem as the things are hideously expensive and Harry nearly gives away that projectile-stopping runestone.”

“I wonder why?” Sirius had wondered about that for a while. His companions shrugged.

They were not to know that every time those stones absorbed the energy of a projectile they converted that energy to magic and dumped it to Lilith and all of the other stones. Which were awake and getting closer to sentience all the time. Soon they would choose mates to share with, as Rowena and Roxanne had. Some were already calling to their companions and being carried everywhere they went. The others were ensconced in the bed in the master suite. Eventually all the schools would have multiple stones. Harry and Lilith had gathered all of them.

The green mate diamonds were a different story. Conjured from pure carbon in the air by Harry and infused with his magic, they were not sentient so much as an indestructible extension of Harry. The bonded found them just as intractable about certain things as their bullheaded mate. Flirting with wizards had to be predicated on Harrys mood ,unless of course you didn’t really like the wizard in question. That was right out, though, as the mates found themselves repulsed by the idea of flirting with anyone besides the brother or fathers-in-law. All very harmless but very necessary.

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Chita
Imperial Palace
Monday
15 December 2003
05:00

Harry rolled over and Zemfira Berkut Potter gasped, “Easy, Harry!”

Harry smiled and grasped her hips, holding her firm where they were still joined. He sat up into her and walked into the ensuite from the master bedroom carrying her. In the massive glass-walled shower room he thought the steam on and sat on a marble bench while keeping his hold on Zemfira. She snuggled into his chest and lay smiling dreamily.

Hannah sat up and sighed. Zemfira’s hair would be a lank mess. It would take hours to fix it, and if left to her own devices she would just twist it up into a tangled mess and put a shell and bone keeper on it to keep it out of her way. While that had its place, the ball was political and the Russian mates especially had to be at their very best. Cho dragged her back down and kissed her. “Parvati and you will fix it, so stop worrying.”

“But Cho mmmphhm hey! Mmmphmmll Cho! Oh! Oh, Cho!”

The mates chuckled as they rose and dressed for PT. Between Harry and Zemfira in the steam-filled shower room and the Cho-and-Hannah show, it was already a fun day. After they dressed they moved to the children’s wing and stopped in to see the kids. At six they all walked out into the gigantic cave and began their PT routines under the adoring eyes of Magical Russia.

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Chita
Grand Mall
Monday
15 December 2003
08:00

“I understand that, Tuningfork, but how does the ceiling stand up?” Harry asked as he turned a complete circle with his head craned all the way back while looking at the ceiling of the enormous cave that extended under the whole of Chita City, which appeared to be hundreds of feet overhead.

Tuningfork ground her teeth; this was the third time she had explained it. “Your Highness remembers our classes on time and its properties?”

“Yes.”

“All right then, the roof supports exist slightly out of phase with the open space.”

“So you said, but why doesn’t the roof fall in our phase?”

“Because it doesn’t!”

Harry snapped his head down and looked owlishly at Tuningfork. “Errrh, I beg your pardon, Tuningfork, not trying to be dense. We’re looking for a replacement for the sand in the Time-Turners, though, so I’m interested in this magic.”

Tuningfork harrumphed. “Highness, all you have to do is think of what you want and the magic does it. Why is creating these rocks a problem?”

Harry grimaced. “I don’t think I understand the nature of time well enough.”

Tuningfork smiled. “It takes time, Highness; just let it rest until you’re two or three thousand years old.”

Harry blinked. Nym chuckled. “Now come on, Harry. The people want to see you and Anastasia together. Go shop.” She pushed Harry and Anastasia together and gave them a gentle shove.

“Really, Tuningfork, two or three thousand?”

“Yes, Duchess Sarah.”

Sarah arched a brow. They continued in Harry and Anastasia’s wake. “And if we run out of the stones before that?”

“Then Duchess Hermione gets to change everything like she wants to, Duchess.”

“I heard that.”

Tuningfork snickered, made her excuses, and took her leave. Her Battalion had become the Chita Goblin Brigade and they were constantly delving through the unexploited treasure trove that was the Magical Rus.

Harry and Anastasia led the mates and children through the giant mall that was under Chita. Harry would constantly calculate the center of mass of his mates and children and stop on a bench in front of the stores. Many a Babushka or Gammer found themselves suddenly sitting with the Tsar, a constant stream of mates and children approaching him and then darting off again.

The Siberian express coasted silently to a stop on its silenced, safety-warded track through the center of the mall and disembarked its passengers. The train was packed. This visit had become traditional.

Harry eased onto the latest bench in front of another string and rifle patch store where the younger mates and older daughters had drifted to a halt and sat looking around, smiling.

Yekaterina Zuranova looked at the young man, young Tsar, who had asked politely and then sat beside her. So it was true, then—here was a killer. You could see it in the way he moved. She had seen that look before. Something else, though, a reluctance like they had had when they were young and the war was only a few years old. Odd. According to rumor he had been fighting most of his life. Oh, he asked something! “I beg you pardon, my Tsar, an old woman lost in her thoughts. Could you say that again?”

Harry smiled at her. “Hardly old! I asked if there was anything I could do for you.”

Yekaterina beamed at him. “No, Majesty, you have already done so much. I was glad to be offered the chance to live and work here. Life as a Squib was hard in the Soviet Union and not much better in Russia.”

Harry smiled shyly back. “And we’re privileged to have a sniper of your caliber teaching our people, Yekaterina Zuranova, Hero of the Soviet Union.”

Yekaterina smiled broadly. “It is an honor to serve, Majesty—and they are good soldiers, the Tsarina’s Guards Tank Army.”

“They are that. Well, if I can’t do anything for you, please pardon me—my flock is moving on.”

Yekaterina nodded. “Yes, don’t let them get too far.” She watched as the young Tsar nodded and caught up with the women and his children. Perhaps bathing in blood all those years ago and suffering nightmares almost every night since had been worthwhile after all—well, at least if it allowed this.

Harry strolled down the broad, granite paved walk in front of the shops, smiling, laughing, and slaying the Magical Rus dead yet again. He waved at and sometimes stopped and talked to citizens he recognized. He smiled and greeted those he didn’t. The Russians smiled and facilitated the Tsar’s shopping. Merchants’ prices dropped in the face of a thousand hissing Babushka watching the children and younger mates like hawks. The younger mates were encouraged by broad grins and winks over anything even slightly sexy that they touched. Daughters pouted over the scowls they received over exactly the same items from the same Babuskha. Harry had a grand time.

Harry remained on the mall as the mates faded themselves and the children away after lunch to begin preparing for the ball. He wandered from store to store, still talking and smiling. The female population of Chita was torn but finally had to go prepare for the ball. Just as well, really, as Harry had wandered into a store selling magical and Mundane tools and gadgets and looked to be taking up permanent residence there.

Finally, at five, Nym sighed and waved and Harry appeared with some odd device in his hand. “Oy, Nym, I was looking in that shop!”

“We know, Harry, but it’s time to get ready.”

Harry looked at his pocket watch. He never had gotten another wristwatch. “Oh, sorry. Here, let me send this spoke shave back and I’ll get a shower.”

Harry waved and headed toward the ensuite, shedding his clothes, not noticing Hestia prowling in behind him. The mates smiled and settled in their shifts. Good thing they were still working on their hair. Hestia looked very determined.

In the shower Harry turned just in time to take Hestia in his arms and then, continuing his spin, he pinned her to the wall and spent a few minutes seeing if he could kiss the life out of her. Hestia, while very much enjoying the marvelous snog complete with Harry licking the inside of her lips, was well ready and while holding her arms around Harry’s neck picked her feet up and clasped her legs around his waist. She smiled when she lowered herself slightly and Harry bumped her; she kept lowering and with a wriggle trapped him right where she wanted him. She sighed and sank firmly down. Harry never stopped kissing her as he thrust deeply into her and then picked up a rhythm. Hestia smiled and leaned back into the wall. She used the leverage from the wall to roll her hips in a circular motion, pushing Harry and herself up to and over the edge in near record time.

Afterwards, Harry soaped and then rinsed Hestia gently as he supported her on her shaky legs, and she returned the favor after the aftershocks wore off.

Zemfira moved to get up and was summarily pushed back in her chintz chair. “No, sit. We still have half your head to get through.”

Zemfira tried to turn her head and glare at Hannah, and Parvati Petrified her. “Really, Zemfira, please. It will only take longer if you don’t sit still.” Parvati Finited the Petrificus Totalus and Zemfira grumbled but stayed seated.

Lilith wandered over. “What are you doing, Parvati?”

“Putting some oils back in her hair and then we’ll wash, dry, and set it. The steam bath strips all the oils out of your hair so when it dries it’s like straw.”

Lilith nodded and watched. She commented on their technique and offered a couple of her own. In a surprisingly short time Zemfira’s waist-length straight hair was a lustrous waterfall of tight midnight black curls flowing over her shoulder. Parvati, Hannah, and Lilith stepped back and admired their handiwork. Zemfira looked at her hair in a conjured mirror, gave the three of them a kiss, and gratefully finished dressing. It wasn’t that she hated her hair, it just took up too much time. She had much better things to do. Speaking of which, where had he gotten off to?

Harry had escorted Hestia back to the bedroom, dressed, and wandered away to the children’s wing. He then spent some time getting his sons ready and keeping them out from under the mates’ and daughters’ feet. Zemfira found them in the play hall building, or rather adding on to the enormous model of the magical world while snacking on a buffet laid by Geoffrey. She pitched right in while being very careful of clothes, hair, and makeup. Soon enough the daughters joined them and then the mates began filtering in.

At precisely 18:55 Nym and Anastasia swept in, leading the last of the mates, and Harry called everyone together and faded the whole Clan to the courtyard, where the ball was being held.

Harry faded in and looked around. The courtyard was beautiful, a sparkling winter wonderland. The walls were illusioned into winter forest scenes and the ceiling overhead was illusioned into a view of an almost painfully clear winter night sky. They could have held the ball in a real forest, but it was winter in Siberia and therefore nothing to fool with. The giant Imperial palace and its cavern were fine.

Clan Potter set up a receiving line with military precision and the guests began arriving promptly at 19:00. Soon enough the courtyard was filling, and while the orchestra played various light pieces in the background Harry had his hand shook by the nobility of the magical Rus.

The Ball was, as always, a howling success, the Slytherin mates ruling the out-of-the-way corners. The Potter children captured the ladies’ hearts and Harry circulated and was just Harry. The days of the nobles lining up their daughters for dances having passed as they had run out of daughters, a new game had started. Various Potter sons found themselves with armfuls of warm, smiling Russian witches and danced the night away. The Potter daughters were not left out and had full cards in moments.

Harry watched with interest, as did the mates. Several young Russian nobles found themselves on the business end of a piercing green glare, and Harry’s circulating kept things very proper. The mates were also very watchful of both the young witches and wizards of Russia.

A grand time was had by all. At one a.m. Harry circulated, saying his goodnights, and he and the mates faded away, the children having already been put to bed and the older daughters having said their goodnights and leaving whole platoons of broken hearts in their wake.

The nobility of the magical Rus heaved a collective sigh and made their way home after a final round of goodbyes.

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Potter Castle
Friday
26 December 2003
05:00

Harry awoke and smiled; everyone was asleep. He lay quietly, just breathing and thinking. He still liked the way the mates smelled early in the morning. Just girl, no additions—well, that shampoo they all used now was very nice, but mostly just girl.

It had been an exhausting holiday schedule again but yesterday had fixed it, mostly—just rest and presents along with playing with his kids. It was amazing: no matter how expensive or how agonized over the presents were, the youngest kids always played with the boxes. They had lost Cherwyn’s Kyle and Clare for an hour; oh, they could feel them and knew they were fine, but they couldn’t find them. They had eventually resorted to magic. Embarrassing really, finding your kids in the boxes their presents had come in at the bottom of a pile of paper and other boxes.

The events on the schedule had gone well and tonight was the Eighth Annual Boxing Day Ball. Miguel was licking his wounds or something; he had failed to send any more assassins or snatch teams after Raphael George Montessori had been captured and bound. Of course Raphael hunting them might have something to do with it. Anticlimactic, to say the least. Oh, something would eventually have to be done with Miguel, but with the new policy of turning expectant casualties among the populace, Aurors and magical military, no one was dying any more except those who committed the crimes.

Hmmm, the vampire girls and the werewolves for that matter could only get pregnant by Harry apparently, and a few of them had sent letters to Nym already attempting to schedule matings if the cure could not be found within certain time frames. The time frame seemed to depend on the age of the witches’ mates. Nobody wanted kids at age 100.

“Hey.”

“Sorry, Allessandro, good morning. True, though—well, except for you apparently, again?”

“Complaining?”

“Uh, no baby, you know I’m not, but I was thinking.”

“Gm mhed marry.”

“Little hard with you doing that.”

“Gmmph, nmw ga on.”

Harry actually tried, much to his mates’ amusement. Allessandro was, however, very skilled and shortly Harry threw in the towel and tried to pull her around for reciprocation. She looked up his belly and chest and stared into his eyes after swatting his hands away with a “Lmtr”.

She slid back down with her tongue on the very sensitive underside of Harry and swallowed when she hit bottom. Sucking hard, she pulled him almost all the way out of her mouth, circled the ridge with her tongue, and repeated the deep throat and swallow. Harry didn’t last long.

Just before he came Allessandra pulled all the way off, knee-walked up his body and sank onto him. Harry came hard in her belly, and the hot fluid hitting her insides plus Harry’s mental stimulation of her pleasure center pitched her into orgasm with him.

After Allessandra ooched up Harry’s body and lay with his head in her breast. Rose Zeller took advantage and swiftly rolled over, lined Harry up, and sank down on his still-hard length. She laid her body on Allessandra’s back and hummed contentedly as she wrapped Harry and Allessandra in her arms.

Harry smiled gently and slowly used his metamorphic abilities to Rose’s advantage. She soon began pressing down and squirming. Her intent-binding after Beatrice’s hosted ball had been shattering, requiring four full Turnings of the Dragon’s Den. The mates had been very appreciative since then and she was seldom left alone for long. She had in fact had a moment of crisis, thinking she was a huge slut as she was being tripled by Hestia, Nym, and Sarah, but they had talked her down from the trees and Rose’s conscience had been assuaged by Hermione’s bound gangbang with all the Harry-having mates until she reached muscle failure and had to use her safe word, while Harry full-on vampire dominated Amelia Fastida, Erika, and the pregnant Selene.

Nym watched the threesome and smiled gently as Sarah took her from behind. Morgana, it was good to be the Queen! The shower of pillows bounced off her and Sarah’s shield but Sarah’s vicious full-length stroke penetrated. Nym was not remorseful; she ground her very shapely ass back into Sarah.

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Godric’s Hollow
Friday
26 December 2003
18:00

“And here we are again, gentle beings. The social event of the season is about to start and is, as always, a veritable who’s-who of their Highnesses’ magical realm. Glenda Chittock here and I will be bringing you this event live on WWN 3 and WTV 3. First on the ice tonight, Lord and Lady Carmichael and their House, Lady Carmichael in a lovely green gown and Lord Carmichael of course in white tie.

“And here is Clan Hamilton in Scottish dress. Lord and Lady Weasley looking very prosperous indeed; that’s one family who have never owed so much to one. The newly vampire Weasley twins, Fred and George, with their vampire and mortal mates in impeccable although thoroughly modern white tie. Who would have thought that would look so good on ladies? If anyone can carry that off, though, it is the very fit Weasley bonded. Weasley Wang Hu Jin and his lovely bonded Mae Song in what appear to be Mandarin court robes. Bill and Fleur Weasley in simple but stunningly elegant white and black. And that’s put paid to the no white after start of term, ladies, a winter goddess all in white. Charlie and Dana Weasley in Dragon Herd uniform leathers, intricately and beautifully beaded. Last but by no means least, Percival and Penelope in consular service dress uniform and Ronald and Lavender in Auror dress. There’s a whole school full of redheaded children loose somewhere.”

Glenda didn’t know how right she was. Fifteen redheaded and two Oriental Potter godchildren were currently in the ladies’ maid and nanny elves’ care, along with hundreds of Potter and vassal children. Winky was in overworked-elf heaven.

“And Himself has led Clan Potter onto the ice all in Regimentals, oh including this year’s Head Girl. Out with your books, gentle beings. Someone’s won the pool! Still blue eyes our Rose has though, so it’s an intent binding for now.”

Bruce paled in the back of the temporary booth over the bandstand and waved frantically. Glenda shot him a very curt hand signal.

Harry spun Nym off the dance floor and almost over Ron. “Easy there, Harighness.”

Harry laughed. “Harry, Ron, I’m sure you remember?”

Ron grinned at his old friend. “Yeah, Harry, sure. Lavender’ll have my guts for garters, though.”

Nym, seeing the aforementioned approaching at speed and with a frown, chuckled and moved into an intercept position. Lavender was suddenly derailed by Nym. “Lavender, how are the children? Oh, I have pictures of the grandbabies.”

Harry and Ron watched, amazed, as Nym skillfully pulled Lavender away by an elbow. Sure, it was a little obvious, but still very well done.

Neville, Fred, George, and George joined them as their bonded joined Nym and Lavender. “So Ron, how’s life?”

Ron grinned. “Exciting. These hybrids are damn tough.”

Harry frowned. “Sorry, we’ll—”

“Let us handle it, Harry. At least in the Realm. It’s the Aurors’ job to enforce the law. Michelle will ask if we need help. You need to orient on the external threats and let the system work inside. It’s a good system and it’s working. Go make babies.”

Harry looked at Ron, amazed. Ron glared around at the slack-jawed group. “What?”

Harry grabbed Ron and gave him a rough one-armed hug. The rest of the group shielded themselves from the veritable explosion of flash bulbs as tomorrow’s front page photo from all the wizarding press was taken, Harry hugging a half smiling Ron with a huge grin on his face.

Lavender sighed. “Finally!”

Nym and the witches around her laughed and she got several congratulatory hugs herself. She was very pleased. Ron had been a good pick and he was doing very well now. Lavender smiled a coy little smile and the witches laughed; more Weasleys might be in the offing.

Then Lavender looked at Hermione. “Oh, sorry, Hermione!”

Hermione was confused. “Errh, why, Lavender? No way I could have them both and I was found by Harry. Sure, Ron might have been a fun project, but I make do with what I have.”

Lavender gave her a playful shove. “Make do? Well, if you say so, Hermione.” Then she shook her head. “It’s not all been fun, though. Damned hard work, wizards!”

The group broke up laughing.

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Glastonbury
Glade of the Thorn
Sunday
4 January 2004
05:00

Nym stood in her shift, barefoot on the frozen ground, as did all the mates. Forming a circle around the glade, they watched the potential wives and Elizabeth. Nym was lost in her thoughts, as was normal at this time of year.

It had been a big year. Not as big nor as violent as the Ugandan crises, but still. The fifteen Zulu princesses stood among the other handfasting candidates, but they were only honoring tradition. They were forever Harry’s jubilant slaves. Poor Harry—this year was better, though, only thirty plus the Zulu, so forty-five all together. It was slowing down still.

“So this year we have Selene, Erika, Marilyn Highlander, who saw that coming? Morgana, who could—a disembodied spirit? Merlin, she fucked like a beast, though, what? No other way to describe it really, and all that shrieking! Those poor Mundane in Godric’s Hollow were so pissed. Lindsay Peterson, Rebecca Linares, another one. Little miss Oh I Can Change To A Nightmare and Harry Can Get Five Feet In Me, the ultimate size queen.”

“Hrrmmmph.”

“What, Frieda?”

“So having sixteen feet of that Hell Dragon stuffed in you falling for fifty thousand feet doesn’t count?”

“Errrh, no. Sarah Ramos, Pansy’s private dancer, another nymphomaniac. Julie Stratton, Jo Ann Compton, Regina Frances, the heavyweight champion fuck of the world, Brushaxe. Kristen Alderson, Tessa Allen, Irma Cranston, Jean, Rose and Ewa, the rest of Jean and Ewa’s gang Charlotte Camp, Rosalie Jackman, and Connie Frank. Can’t you girls do anything by yourselves? I mean, all going potty at the same time is one thing, but really!”

“Nym!”

“Oh, loosen up, Jean. Merlin, you’ll get an ulcer, child. And then of course our contingent of stone maidens: Jessica Amlee, Ivana Baquero, Darcy Rose Burns, Danielle Chuchran, Madeline Dugan, Jodelle Micah Ferland, Tess Gaerthe, Mirai Shida, Olesya Rulin, Tatiana Semenova, and Akiane Kramarik.”

“Oh, and the Princesses of the Zulu Nation.”

“Nym, if you’re done being a funny girl...?”

“Well, we could talk about how crazy we made the mothers leading up to tomorrow, Sarah.”

“Yes we could; however, as my feet are freezing and I’m going to warm them up on your butt....”

“Lilith?”

Lilith chuckled. “Yes, Nym.”

She released the Realm and judged the girls. After she had created them through her anointed, Elizabeth, Nym faded them all to the bedroom and Elizabeth to the Royal suite.

“Aiiieeeee! Gawddamn, woman, those feet are cold.”

“I told you, Nym. Next year you’ll hurry right along instead of doing your standup routine.”

“Why you mmph, hey, how can your cold feet still be on my butt if you’re doing that?”

“Hush, double jointed.”

The mates and intent-bonded watched and laughed as Nym and Sarah wrestled. Jean led her group to the bath and found Harry there. Rosalie beat them all to Harry and took possession immediately. The rest of the girls picked out spots and started working on Harry with lips, tongues, and teeth.

Sibusile Zulu lifted Rosalie’s head and took Harry down her throat just as he came; she shared back with the intent-bonded Rosalie, Jean’s whole group having decided to build power as long as they could stand it.

Term was going to be a struggle but they would all be in a room together. Poor Rose would still be alone in the Head Girl’s quarters. Irma smiled. They would have to get a few detentions with the Head Girl. “Ouch. What was that for, Ewa?”

Ewa shook her hand after the stinging slap on Irma’s tight, hard ass. “Schemeing, you snake. Just go tackle her if you want her.”

Irma blushed crimson; she still forgot about the bond occasionally.

Harry took Jean’s group in turn, with Sibusile’s fellows taking the finish for each girl. Harry would, in fact, not make it out of the bedroom today.

This was probably a good thing as the mothers were fairly close to the edge with the handfasting tomorrow.

Between the handfast-bonded and the already handfasted bonded Harry lay talking with Marilyn Highlander Potter as she slowly ground on him and Aahoo Jahansouzshahi Potter, a gift from the Caliph of Persia, who was patiently waiting her turn.

“Harry, mmmmh, have you had a good year?”

Harry laughed and flexed. Marilyn moaned a little. “Yes, I have, Marilyn. I mean, this holiday season has been rough but it always is with all the events and the new handfast females apparently having to have sex every two minutes. Shhh, you know I don’t mind at all, but we have had a good year.”

“The hybrid thing worked out much easier than I expected. Mmm, that’s very nice.”

Marilyn giggled and tightened as hard as she could again. Harry continued, “Now I want to settle in and get to normal, or as normal as we can.”

“Harrrriiiiieeeee!”

Harry stopped talking and thinking as the cold, wet heat of Marilyn took him over the edge with her. Aahoo smiled, and after Harry relaxed she mounted him through Marilyn. Marilyn stayed mounted, occupying the same space as Aahoo. Harry lasted about fifteen minutes. The pair stayed mounted and slowly worked him again. This was a favorite trick of theirs, Aahoo being fascinated by the spirits. Occasionally all of them, Marilyn, the Grey Lady, and Myrtle and Aahoo ganged up on Harry. Besides the Alphas, these were the only four who could wear Harry out. And even they had to rest afterward, where the Alphas could wear him down and then at least be able to do whatever they needed to.

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Glastonbury
Abbey
Monday
5 January 2004
09:00

“Harry, how are you?”

“Fine, Arthur.”

“Ever going to stop, lad?

“Phssst! You tell me, Arthur.”

“Still having fun, lad?”

“It’s actually getting funner—errh, more fun. We have most things under control and I’m hoping to settle and put my armor aside, Arthur.”

“Careful with that, lad. That’s what happened to me. Well, that and Morgana. You’ve beaten your Dark Lady but you must guard against complacency. And don’t waste your time on idiot quests like I did. Work on your world and making it safe.”

“Thanks, Arthur. See you next year?”

“Of course, lad. Hey, that’s cheating!”

Harry smiled and continued to the altar, where Elizabeth presided over the handfastings as the Alpha mates looked on. As was now traditional, each mate was stopped over Guinevere’s place beside Arthur and questioned closely. None would ever reveal what was said, even to Harry in the bond. They all approached the altar with very determined looks, however, as always.

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Hogwarts
Great Hall
Sunday
11 January 2004
19:00

In another change that upset Hermione, the children went back to school on Sunday the eleventh instead of Monday the twelfth. Harry now sat with Nym at the head table as the start of term feast was served with all the mates scattered among the other schools. The feast was excellent and a grand time was had by all. Harry and the mates made it back to Potter Castle at midnight and checked the children and then proceeded to the master suite, where they collapsed. It had been a busy season.

No one noticed Miriam missing because she had been radiating calm about the whole thing. If Miguel wanted a hostage so bad, fine. She was tired of him anyway. She wondered how hybrid would taste.