Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Magister Potter
Unsorted Wills and Expected Hurrahs
14 reviewsStarting from the beginning, Harry learns magic from a different source, only to go to Hogwarts to amaze and astound. His best friend? Negi Springfield. Rated R as a precaution.
5Original
Magister Potter
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter (and in turn own JK Rowling), nor do I own Negima (and in turn Ken Akamatsu).
- - - - -
“Have another round boys, on the house!” Shouted a very happy Madam Rosmerta, much to the delight of the many wizards in her pub. This event was not unusual in the slightest. It was after all a celebration. Celebrations of such kind were occurring all over the Wizarding world, mainly in Europe and some parts in Asia and the Americas. Every witch, wizard, and magical creature toasted a single person, a person who had no clue what his heritage was, who had no idea what was happing in a world he had left. Those toasts went unanswered, not that the toasters were expecting it anyway. However, what they didn't know, was whatever happened to the Boy-Who-Lived. The baby that had ended a reign of terror they had been living for nearly eleven years.
Or rather, specifically, Harry Potter.
No one had the full story, but knew only that he had managed to defeat the Dark Lord Voldemort, fear of him became such that no one dared speak his title. Speculation included that the Potter boy might be the next dark lord, or the next Merlin. A healthy many could not believe a baby to do what so many older, wiser, and more powerful could not.
But they could not deny what had happened. The Dark Lord was gone!
At this very moment, Harry Potter was sleeping peacefully, in a bundle of blankets; or at least as peacefully as a babe can get after his parent were killed. The poor child's mind may have been too young to comprehend all that had occurred just a few short, or rather long, hours ago. He stirred, crying out slightly, for the mother who would never hold him, for the father who would never funny noises at him while looking like a fool. A ticklish beard brushed against him, gving the baby something to distract himself with.
Harry Potter yawned and closed his eyes again, snuggling deeper into slumber and the inside of the giant's moleskin overcoat.
Rubeus Hagrid, half giant, Gameskeeper and the Keeper of the Keys of Hogwarts, glanced worriedly down at the poor child's face as he rode Sirius's motorcycle easily through the clouds. He felt Harry snuggle closer to him before sleeping again, much to relief. Grief could not cover the emotions flowing though his mind at this very moment. Anger, pity, horror, shock, the list went on and on. So immersed in his emotion and driving the motorcycle, the half giant never noticed the familiar patronus of one Albus Dumbledore's land on his shoulder.
“Hagrid. Change of plans. Head to Hogwarts immediately. Password is Kit-Kat Bar.”
Hagrid started at hearing the Headmaster's voice, but took the message to heart immediately as he banked to the left on instinct. The motorcycle chuckled and finally roared through the cloud layer towards Scotland.
- - - - -
Hogwarts, Headmaster's Office.
Even with celebrations popping up everywhere like Marauders on goblin firewhiskey, Albus Dumbledore remained sharp and cold. Something had changed, and not for the better of the Greater Good. An old rival of his had scheduled a meeting with him, concerning the Potter boy. He was at his desk, sucking on a lemon drop, holding several sheafs of papers. One his left, was James and Lily Potter's wills. On the right was a written report from Auror Shacklebolt and Moody.
It was times like these he wished things would stop being so complicated and just fess up on just what the hell was going on. A glance at Fawke's usual perch showed him it was empty, presumably gone to see what had happened at Godric's Hollow. He pushed aside the report, having looked over it for the past seven minutes, only to turn over the second page to see just how much longer it went and gave it up as a bad job. The old wizened wizard sighed and eyed the unopened will apprehensively. Not that he didn't trust James Potter and the recently Lily Evans, but he knew there was going to be something he didn't like inside that sheaf of parchment. With the feeling that something was going to literally throw a monkey wrench into his clockwork plans, he picked up the folder and opened it. Apparently he was to take over the Potter estates and vault until Harry was of age. He was also heir to several rare artifacts that resided within that same vault. There was a list of people that had been given portions of the money they had, including the Dursleys and Severus Snape. The last few pages merely stated a trust fund to be held for Harry, as well as a number of people to foster the child in case they, in which they did, die.
The list was surprisingly short. While he himself thought they'd list the few Light families, like the Longbottoms or the Weasleys, or perhaps even a few of the teachers here at Hogwarts, he certainly did not expect this.
Guardianship is to be transferred from Headmaster Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore of Hogwarts to the Magus of Merdiana Magic Academy.
Yes. That was totally unexpected. This threw quite a monkey-wrench into his well laid plans to shape the Potter boy.
Unexpected.
And totally predictable to the point he never even expected it.
Dumbledore groaned and removed his half-moon glasses before putting his face into his hands.
“Albus?” Asked a familiar voice from behind the door to the moving staircase, one belonging to a rather fiercely Scottish professor.
With the speed that was unexpected of an old man nearing the age of a hundred and fifty, Dumbledore slapped his glasses back on, recomposed his face into his usual, though sober, twinkly-eyed facade, “Come in, Minerva.”
He had justed popped another lemon drop into his mouth when four people stepped into his office.
First was the fiery Head of Gryfindor House, Minerva McGonagall, walking though while dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. Next was Hagrid, with a familiar bundle in his arms. The third and last gave Dumbledore reason to pause in his machinations and decide to pop another sherbet lemon into his mouth.
While not as wildly eccentric looking as Dumbledore, Magus Merdiana contrasted with Dumbledore's blue and white robes with tan and red, his long flowing beard carefully cut and cleaned, and his right hand wrapped around a staff as tall he himself. Standing next to the Magus was his partner, a blond albino woman of moderate height in a sharply cut blue muggle business suit.
Their eyes met, a pair of, though no longer twinkling, blue eyes meeting a pair of neutral gray ones. Deciding against using a legilimency probe on the Magus, taking up the mantle of a polite host instead, “Welcome Magus, Miss McGuiness, Minerva, Hagrid, please sit. We have much to discuss. Lemon drop?”
Through her dried tears, McGonagall gave him a glare as if to say 'Please don't embarrass us in front of them!'. The look had it's effect as he desisted and turned to Hagrid. “I trust you found a faster means of travel?”
“Thas right headmaster,” nodded the gamekeeper, “Young Sirius Black lent his motorcycle ter me. He argued for lil Potter here, but I told I had me orders.”
Dumbledore nodded, thinking through this new morsel of information, “May I see him?”
Without waiting for an answer, he gently removed the child from Hagrid's overcoat, taking in the young babe's features with the air of a sad grandfather viewing the news of the deaths of his favorite family. McGonagall had stood up as well, craning her neck slightly to look, her eyes widened slightly at the scar on Harry's forehead. Dumbledore gently siphoned the smear of blood on the scar away with his wand to reveal a lightning shaped scar on the boy's forehead.
“Is it true then?” Gasped Minerva as she took Harry from Dumbledore's arms, “He really did it? This poor child really defeated You-Know-Who?”
The Magus's raise of an eyebrow at this statement most likely had nothing to do with how Harry Potter had defeated one of the most evil Dark Lords in Wizarding History, but more to do with the use of the name 'You-Know-Who'. That eyebrow was enough to goad Dumbledore into reprimanding his Transfiguration Professor, “Really now, Minerva, you should be more sensible about using the Dark Lord's name. All this nonsense of using 'You-Know-Who' is quite ridiculous. There isn't any reason not to simply say Voldemort.”
If Dumbledore noticed the professor's flinch, he didn't show it, “But this meeting has gotten off course. I daresay you have your own copy of the Will?”
The Magus nodded, pulling out a sheaf of papers, “Have you told your people?”
“No, ” said the Headmaster as he glanced at McGonagall and Hagrid, “I had planned to resolve this matter before informing-”
“Informing what exactly,” inquired McGonagall, “I spent an entire day at Privet Drive waiting for you, Albus, so what were you planning to tell us?”
“He was planning to give Harry to the remaining relatives of Lily Evans,” spoke the Magus quietly before Dumbledore could give an excuse, “Seeing as Harry is quite literally the last of the Potters...and that there are partially drawn wards at Number 4. Blood Wards.”
Hagrid's face was a sea of confusion as he watched the three slightly apprehensively, holding Harry close to him as he back slowly away from the shocked witch and the two wizards; whose voices were slowly growing in volume.
“Surely you aren't planning to go along with that! You haven't seen them, Albus,” cried Professor McGonagall, “Dumbledore-you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people less like us. And they've got this son-I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the streets, screaming for sweets. Harry Potter go and live there!”
“It is the best place for him,” replied Dumbledore firmly, “His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything properly when he's older. I've written them a letter.”
The way he said the words were as though he most certainly believed every word of it. He truly believed that Privet Drive was the best place for Harry. Not if someone else had anything to say about it.
“I'm afraid,” spoke up the Magus, “That that isn't possible. The Will clearly states that young Potter cannot go to that household. Though your intentions are of good heart, have you even seen how the residents of Number 4 react to magic?”
“I'm sure they are rather fearful of it,” admitted Dumbledore lightly, “But I'm sure they will get over it. I am positive they will come to love Harry like their own son.”
“Be as it may, the Will clearly states that the child cannot go there.”
“The Will is not magically binding,” said Dumbledore fiercely, “And the Potters have made me Executor!”
Donet McGuiness stepped forward, speaking for the first time, “And you, as the trusted Executor of James and Lily Potter, will go against their wishes? Magically binding or not, that is blatantly illegal. Do you wish to take this matter up to the Gob-”
She stopped as the Magus put a steadying hand on her shoulder, “Albus. A compromise.”
“I am listening.”
“Perhaps the child may indeed have to go there,” agreed the Magus reluctantly, “but I suggest we all watch the first month of what these relatives will do. If things go as smoothly as you predict Albus, then by all means let Harry be raised by his aunt and uncle. If it does not...”
“I am quite sure that will not be necessary,” said Dumbledore with a true smile, “But if it will assure you that my decision is for the best, I shall agree.”
“Very well,” nodded the Magus with a sigh, “You know the rules. However, if the child comes into harms way...”
“I stand as I have said. It will be a loving environment, they will understand,” said Albus reassuringly.
- - - - -
As it turned out, the first month proved to be...illuminating. True the Dursleys took young Harry Potter into their home, if grudgingly and very reluctantly. After they placed the baby, bundle, and letter upon the doorstep at the crack of dawn, after disallusioning themselves, the group was treated to Petunia Dursley's use of her healthy lungs as she went out to put the milk bottles out on the doorstep. They were additionally treated to the scene of the entire family having a shouting match while Dudley and Harry were wailing at the top of their lungs. After calming Dudley and tossing Harry into the cupboard under the stairs, they watched in mute silence as Vernon and Petunia muttered to each other, constantly casting the windows and doors with fearful glances while they read the letter Dumbledore had written.
“Why did they have do dump one of their...their...f-freaks on our doorstep! Why?”
“Must be my dratted sister,” screeched Petunia softly, “You remember her? At the dinner party my poor mum threw for her and her freakish boyfriend! Apparently they're dead. Good riddance!”
- - - - -
“Those good fer nuthin'-!”
“Are still quite sure this was a good idea, Albus?”
“They threw him in a cupboard for crying out loud! A cupboard!”
“They will treat him fairly. They are his family after all. Besides, I have insurance.”
“Insurance?”
- - - - -
While her husband ranted about freaks and their abnormal ways, Petunia's eyes raced back and forth as she read the letter carefully, “Vernon...”
“-landing a baby freak on honest, hardworking, normal-”
“V-Vernon...”
“-citizens of the crown! Like the no good abnormal-”
“VERNON!”
The said husband jumped and turned back towards his wife, “What is it?”
“It says here my...sister...left us an inheritance,” whispered Petunia, her face suddenly devoid of color, “It says here, right here...'To my estranged sister, her husband, and son, I leave a thousand galleons, and a summer house...'”
“Galleons? Did you say a house?”
Petunia handed the letter to Vernon, who grabbed it and read through it quickly, his greedy little eyes widening at the prospect of owning a mansion of all things. He looked up thoughtfully, “A beach house? What are Galleons?”
She swallowed and pulled out a brandy, pouring herself a healthy glass, “She left us a pile of gold.”
“Houses? Gold? You never told me she was bloody rich!” Exclaimed Vernon excitedly, “That baby freak there is the key to getting richer beyond our dreams! If your freak of sister and her husband are dead, then that makes us the only living relatives! That means we get all the loot! Hurraah!"
- - - - -
“Oh dear.”
“I was going to be nice about it, but I will say-”
“I told you so, Dumbledore! I told you so!”
- - - - -
Yeah. 'Oh dear' doesn't even cover whats coming next. Looking forwards to a healthy amount of criticism and advice. For those who have no clue what Negima is, please head to this site: managa.bleachexile.com, where the entire translated series is archived. Note, you must be 16+ to read it as it contains nudity. Much will be explained, all in time.
- Al
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter (and in turn own JK Rowling), nor do I own Negima (and in turn Ken Akamatsu).
- - - - -
“Have another round boys, on the house!” Shouted a very happy Madam Rosmerta, much to the delight of the many wizards in her pub. This event was not unusual in the slightest. It was after all a celebration. Celebrations of such kind were occurring all over the Wizarding world, mainly in Europe and some parts in Asia and the Americas. Every witch, wizard, and magical creature toasted a single person, a person who had no clue what his heritage was, who had no idea what was happing in a world he had left. Those toasts went unanswered, not that the toasters were expecting it anyway. However, what they didn't know, was whatever happened to the Boy-Who-Lived. The baby that had ended a reign of terror they had been living for nearly eleven years.
Or rather, specifically, Harry Potter.
No one had the full story, but knew only that he had managed to defeat the Dark Lord Voldemort, fear of him became such that no one dared speak his title. Speculation included that the Potter boy might be the next dark lord, or the next Merlin. A healthy many could not believe a baby to do what so many older, wiser, and more powerful could not.
But they could not deny what had happened. The Dark Lord was gone!
At this very moment, Harry Potter was sleeping peacefully, in a bundle of blankets; or at least as peacefully as a babe can get after his parent were killed. The poor child's mind may have been too young to comprehend all that had occurred just a few short, or rather long, hours ago. He stirred, crying out slightly, for the mother who would never hold him, for the father who would never funny noises at him while looking like a fool. A ticklish beard brushed against him, gving the baby something to distract himself with.
Harry Potter yawned and closed his eyes again, snuggling deeper into slumber and the inside of the giant's moleskin overcoat.
Rubeus Hagrid, half giant, Gameskeeper and the Keeper of the Keys of Hogwarts, glanced worriedly down at the poor child's face as he rode Sirius's motorcycle easily through the clouds. He felt Harry snuggle closer to him before sleeping again, much to relief. Grief could not cover the emotions flowing though his mind at this very moment. Anger, pity, horror, shock, the list went on and on. So immersed in his emotion and driving the motorcycle, the half giant never noticed the familiar patronus of one Albus Dumbledore's land on his shoulder.
“Hagrid. Change of plans. Head to Hogwarts immediately. Password is Kit-Kat Bar.”
Hagrid started at hearing the Headmaster's voice, but took the message to heart immediately as he banked to the left on instinct. The motorcycle chuckled and finally roared through the cloud layer towards Scotland.
- - - - -
Hogwarts, Headmaster's Office.
Even with celebrations popping up everywhere like Marauders on goblin firewhiskey, Albus Dumbledore remained sharp and cold. Something had changed, and not for the better of the Greater Good. An old rival of his had scheduled a meeting with him, concerning the Potter boy. He was at his desk, sucking on a lemon drop, holding several sheafs of papers. One his left, was James and Lily Potter's wills. On the right was a written report from Auror Shacklebolt and Moody.
It was times like these he wished things would stop being so complicated and just fess up on just what the hell was going on. A glance at Fawke's usual perch showed him it was empty, presumably gone to see what had happened at Godric's Hollow. He pushed aside the report, having looked over it for the past seven minutes, only to turn over the second page to see just how much longer it went and gave it up as a bad job. The old wizened wizard sighed and eyed the unopened will apprehensively. Not that he didn't trust James Potter and the recently Lily Evans, but he knew there was going to be something he didn't like inside that sheaf of parchment. With the feeling that something was going to literally throw a monkey wrench into his clockwork plans, he picked up the folder and opened it. Apparently he was to take over the Potter estates and vault until Harry was of age. He was also heir to several rare artifacts that resided within that same vault. There was a list of people that had been given portions of the money they had, including the Dursleys and Severus Snape. The last few pages merely stated a trust fund to be held for Harry, as well as a number of people to foster the child in case they, in which they did, die.
The list was surprisingly short. While he himself thought they'd list the few Light families, like the Longbottoms or the Weasleys, or perhaps even a few of the teachers here at Hogwarts, he certainly did not expect this.
Guardianship is to be transferred from Headmaster Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore of Hogwarts to the Magus of Merdiana Magic Academy.
Yes. That was totally unexpected. This threw quite a monkey-wrench into his well laid plans to shape the Potter boy.
Unexpected.
And totally predictable to the point he never even expected it.
Dumbledore groaned and removed his half-moon glasses before putting his face into his hands.
“Albus?” Asked a familiar voice from behind the door to the moving staircase, one belonging to a rather fiercely Scottish professor.
With the speed that was unexpected of an old man nearing the age of a hundred and fifty, Dumbledore slapped his glasses back on, recomposed his face into his usual, though sober, twinkly-eyed facade, “Come in, Minerva.”
He had justed popped another lemon drop into his mouth when four people stepped into his office.
First was the fiery Head of Gryfindor House, Minerva McGonagall, walking though while dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. Next was Hagrid, with a familiar bundle in his arms. The third and last gave Dumbledore reason to pause in his machinations and decide to pop another sherbet lemon into his mouth.
While not as wildly eccentric looking as Dumbledore, Magus Merdiana contrasted with Dumbledore's blue and white robes with tan and red, his long flowing beard carefully cut and cleaned, and his right hand wrapped around a staff as tall he himself. Standing next to the Magus was his partner, a blond albino woman of moderate height in a sharply cut blue muggle business suit.
Their eyes met, a pair of, though no longer twinkling, blue eyes meeting a pair of neutral gray ones. Deciding against using a legilimency probe on the Magus, taking up the mantle of a polite host instead, “Welcome Magus, Miss McGuiness, Minerva, Hagrid, please sit. We have much to discuss. Lemon drop?”
Through her dried tears, McGonagall gave him a glare as if to say 'Please don't embarrass us in front of them!'. The look had it's effect as he desisted and turned to Hagrid. “I trust you found a faster means of travel?”
“Thas right headmaster,” nodded the gamekeeper, “Young Sirius Black lent his motorcycle ter me. He argued for lil Potter here, but I told I had me orders.”
Dumbledore nodded, thinking through this new morsel of information, “May I see him?”
Without waiting for an answer, he gently removed the child from Hagrid's overcoat, taking in the young babe's features with the air of a sad grandfather viewing the news of the deaths of his favorite family. McGonagall had stood up as well, craning her neck slightly to look, her eyes widened slightly at the scar on Harry's forehead. Dumbledore gently siphoned the smear of blood on the scar away with his wand to reveal a lightning shaped scar on the boy's forehead.
“Is it true then?” Gasped Minerva as she took Harry from Dumbledore's arms, “He really did it? This poor child really defeated You-Know-Who?”
The Magus's raise of an eyebrow at this statement most likely had nothing to do with how Harry Potter had defeated one of the most evil Dark Lords in Wizarding History, but more to do with the use of the name 'You-Know-Who'. That eyebrow was enough to goad Dumbledore into reprimanding his Transfiguration Professor, “Really now, Minerva, you should be more sensible about using the Dark Lord's name. All this nonsense of using 'You-Know-Who' is quite ridiculous. There isn't any reason not to simply say Voldemort.”
If Dumbledore noticed the professor's flinch, he didn't show it, “But this meeting has gotten off course. I daresay you have your own copy of the Will?”
The Magus nodded, pulling out a sheaf of papers, “Have you told your people?”
“No, ” said the Headmaster as he glanced at McGonagall and Hagrid, “I had planned to resolve this matter before informing-”
“Informing what exactly,” inquired McGonagall, “I spent an entire day at Privet Drive waiting for you, Albus, so what were you planning to tell us?”
“He was planning to give Harry to the remaining relatives of Lily Evans,” spoke the Magus quietly before Dumbledore could give an excuse, “Seeing as Harry is quite literally the last of the Potters...and that there are partially drawn wards at Number 4. Blood Wards.”
Hagrid's face was a sea of confusion as he watched the three slightly apprehensively, holding Harry close to him as he back slowly away from the shocked witch and the two wizards; whose voices were slowly growing in volume.
“Surely you aren't planning to go along with that! You haven't seen them, Albus,” cried Professor McGonagall, “Dumbledore-you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people less like us. And they've got this son-I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the streets, screaming for sweets. Harry Potter go and live there!”
“It is the best place for him,” replied Dumbledore firmly, “His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything properly when he's older. I've written them a letter.”
The way he said the words were as though he most certainly believed every word of it. He truly believed that Privet Drive was the best place for Harry. Not if someone else had anything to say about it.
“I'm afraid,” spoke up the Magus, “That that isn't possible. The Will clearly states that young Potter cannot go to that household. Though your intentions are of good heart, have you even seen how the residents of Number 4 react to magic?”
“I'm sure they are rather fearful of it,” admitted Dumbledore lightly, “But I'm sure they will get over it. I am positive they will come to love Harry like their own son.”
“Be as it may, the Will clearly states that the child cannot go there.”
“The Will is not magically binding,” said Dumbledore fiercely, “And the Potters have made me Executor!”
Donet McGuiness stepped forward, speaking for the first time, “And you, as the trusted Executor of James and Lily Potter, will go against their wishes? Magically binding or not, that is blatantly illegal. Do you wish to take this matter up to the Gob-”
She stopped as the Magus put a steadying hand on her shoulder, “Albus. A compromise.”
“I am listening.”
“Perhaps the child may indeed have to go there,” agreed the Magus reluctantly, “but I suggest we all watch the first month of what these relatives will do. If things go as smoothly as you predict Albus, then by all means let Harry be raised by his aunt and uncle. If it does not...”
“I am quite sure that will not be necessary,” said Dumbledore with a true smile, “But if it will assure you that my decision is for the best, I shall agree.”
“Very well,” nodded the Magus with a sigh, “You know the rules. However, if the child comes into harms way...”
“I stand as I have said. It will be a loving environment, they will understand,” said Albus reassuringly.
- - - - -
As it turned out, the first month proved to be...illuminating. True the Dursleys took young Harry Potter into their home, if grudgingly and very reluctantly. After they placed the baby, bundle, and letter upon the doorstep at the crack of dawn, after disallusioning themselves, the group was treated to Petunia Dursley's use of her healthy lungs as she went out to put the milk bottles out on the doorstep. They were additionally treated to the scene of the entire family having a shouting match while Dudley and Harry were wailing at the top of their lungs. After calming Dudley and tossing Harry into the cupboard under the stairs, they watched in mute silence as Vernon and Petunia muttered to each other, constantly casting the windows and doors with fearful glances while they read the letter Dumbledore had written.
“Why did they have do dump one of their...their...f-freaks on our doorstep! Why?”
“Must be my dratted sister,” screeched Petunia softly, “You remember her? At the dinner party my poor mum threw for her and her freakish boyfriend! Apparently they're dead. Good riddance!”
- - - - -
“Those good fer nuthin'-!”
“Are still quite sure this was a good idea, Albus?”
“They threw him in a cupboard for crying out loud! A cupboard!”
“They will treat him fairly. They are his family after all. Besides, I have insurance.”
“Insurance?”
- - - - -
While her husband ranted about freaks and their abnormal ways, Petunia's eyes raced back and forth as she read the letter carefully, “Vernon...”
“-landing a baby freak on honest, hardworking, normal-”
“V-Vernon...”
“-citizens of the crown! Like the no good abnormal-”
“VERNON!”
The said husband jumped and turned back towards his wife, “What is it?”
“It says here my...sister...left us an inheritance,” whispered Petunia, her face suddenly devoid of color, “It says here, right here...'To my estranged sister, her husband, and son, I leave a thousand galleons, and a summer house...'”
“Galleons? Did you say a house?”
Petunia handed the letter to Vernon, who grabbed it and read through it quickly, his greedy little eyes widening at the prospect of owning a mansion of all things. He looked up thoughtfully, “A beach house? What are Galleons?”
She swallowed and pulled out a brandy, pouring herself a healthy glass, “She left us a pile of gold.”
“Houses? Gold? You never told me she was bloody rich!” Exclaimed Vernon excitedly, “That baby freak there is the key to getting richer beyond our dreams! If your freak of sister and her husband are dead, then that makes us the only living relatives! That means we get all the loot! Hurraah!"
- - - - -
“Oh dear.”
“I was going to be nice about it, but I will say-”
“I told you so, Dumbledore! I told you so!”
- - - - -
Yeah. 'Oh dear' doesn't even cover whats coming next. Looking forwards to a healthy amount of criticism and advice. For those who have no clue what Negima is, please head to this site: managa.bleachexile.com, where the entire translated series is archived. Note, you must be 16+ to read it as it contains nudity. Much will be explained, all in time.
- Al
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