Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Harry Potter and the Midnight Sun.
Standard disclaimer. A phrase, or in Bobmin's case novella, that points out that the author of this little piece of insignificant entertainment uses ideas, environments and characters that may not be the author's own intellectual property. It's a bloody daft thing. Hey! It's FANFICTION! The very name should give anyone a clue. The very reason to write this is that the people its aimed at are lawyers, and anyone who has ever tried to convince a lawyer of a fact not originating inside the lawyers own skull knows just how ….alternatively gifted they might be. They must all be from Salem, Days-of-our-lives-style, where peoples IQ tend to match their shoesize.
This disclaimer means to state that this chappie goes up UNBETA'd. Injuries caused by untethered grammar can be corrected at St. Mungo's Spelling Damage ward. You're warned.
The Carpenter said nothing but
It started very simple, with a rhythm from a Jaw harp. The dwarf playing it was standing at the centre of a large circle surrounded by people of all kinds of species and races. As soon as the rhythm had caught on, and people started swaying gently to it, six fiddlers entered the open area at equal distances around him. They cradled keyed fiddles in their arms and started grinding out a haunting tune in minor key. Behind them came the silvery wisps that signalled the presence of Norse fairies about to become corporeal. As the fiddlers reached the centre, the fairies started to dance around them. Half beautiful females, half mist, they swirled around the circle, faces, arms and bodies appearing and disappearing in the shining mist. The song grew more complex, repeating itself, adding counterpoints and harmonies until six mountain trolls stepped into the circle. Marching steadily to the rhythm, their long arms began weaving a surprisingly graceful pattern in the swirling fairy mist. The people in the audience looked briefly at each other. Who had believed that the dumb, hulking beasts could dance? Their stubby legs would never be able to Polka, but those long, muscular arms made up for the lack of footwork as they drew intricate runes in the mist. The trolls could even sing, guttural staccato bursts that added yet another level to the music. The circle began to glow, stronger for each passing note. The Huldr joined. Dressed in flowing white gowns, they moved from a ring dance around the circle, to smaller rings around each troll, hither and yon, hither and yon until the light was almost too bright to watch. The musicians stopped playing, the dancers collapsed on the ground, but the music continued, the shining lights of the Dance soared, higher and higher until the light faded and the music could no longer be heard. One of the trolls raised his head and shouted up to the clouds that were still faintly lit by the Dance..
“Zh'aka teo Zhogi yugitamm teo!”
Then, it began to snow.
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A very tall blonde man was moving through the throngs of people. His fair hair was a bit more than shoulder length, and his ice blue eyes had a peculiar warmth to them and more than one passing female felt the carnal power of the tall stranger's smile. His clothes were slightly archaic. At this day and in this weather, the abundance of fur went by largely unnoticed, but a keen observer would be able to spot that the kind of bear that had donated the pelts had been extinct for almost two thousand years.
One such observer was indeed watching.
The really remarkable thing was the way the tall man moved. It would have been nearly impossible, but people moved out of his way without really noticing it, something another man took advantage of, following in his large friends wake. While people gave space to the large, muscular and certainly handsome friend, the smaller man was able to move around people, getting through gaps that should have been too small but only when he needed it. His large friend was able to part the sea of people long enough for the small man to keep up. The observer watched the smaller man too. He had an unruly mop of black hair and vivid green eyes. Not quite like the Lord of Kilchurn, but he could be mistaken for a close relative even though this man was of medium height, while the Lord was rather short. The observer cast a small eavesdropping spell to listen in on the conversation. Fortunately, the observer was good enough with runes and modern Icelandic to understand the Ancient Norse.
“He's done well for himself, I'd say. What's the view like from up there?”
“Insolent earthworm,” the tall man laughed. “Fewer armpits. You should have let me make you taller.”
“Not on your recycled life! My eyes are at the correct distance from the ground like this, even if they're too tightly spaced.”
“Can you imagine what all the children would say if they saw you as you are?”
“Vividly. In this place, at this time they would say 'look mummy. It's a great big snake. Where's the candy?'”
“You may well be right. Just look at this place. There's such incredible variety.”
The two inhuman figures stopped and took in the scene. It was indeed incredible.
Otherton had gone all out.
House elves wearing red jackets and green pants were everywhere, handing out hot cider, wassail and eggnog.
A number of Dementors in the ghastly neon robes that had almost become a uniform for them were walking around like sandwich men, advertising the upcoming Veela production of The Nutcracker Suite.
Later, the Veela would perform Rimskij-Korsakov's “Snegourchka”, possibly for the first time outside of Russia.
Several of the dementors were also hanging around the big snowball-field, reinforcing the cold and maintaining the snowfall. They couldn't help the pretty little blueskinned Yuki-Onna in maintaining the ice sculptures around town, but they could keep up the cold while the Japanese frost spirits made their frozen art. The Nifelheim giants used their slightly more martial affinity for cold and ice to maintain the ice fortresses on the snowball field and the other large structures, like the very odd warming huts that was spread around the unnaturally cold town.
Giants and Werewolves were strolling around dressed up as all the various versions of the season's most popular figure. Big jolly American-style Santas, twinkling blue Polish Starmen, S:t Nicklaus and many others drifted around, handing out little vouchers to the various gift-stations spread around town. The oversized, animated horse skeleton had been retired early. Christmas tradition or not, it had been too terrifying.
A temporary greenhouse also housed a large group of Huldr, who used their powers to twist living trees into desired shapes. Small willow plants were brought in, and grew to chairs, desks or cradles in just a few minutes under the care of the bushy-tailed beauties.
The magnificent seamstresses from the Bouquet made good business as well. They already had a certain fame, and heavy holiday discounts made their shop very popular. People loved watching Ribbon weave her silk bundles, and when people wanted a fitted piece, Lilac actually made a bit of a show of her instant measuring. Two seamstresses from Seidheim did the actual magical sewing and finishing work, as Lavender was busy being Mayor Brown. The biggest product of the day, though, was the cloaks. They were in different colours and a couple of different styles and sizes, not to strain the sizing charms unduly as that would make them wear out too soon. All of them had a little patch with a sprig of holly on top of the blue, green and yellow pattern of the Breadalbane family, the more or less official Kilchurn tartan. They sold cloaks by the dozen and those who wanted a very special cloak had their brooches made by Surt and Leif over by the makeshift outdoor forge. The giant reached into the ground and used his Earthway to pull the metals to him, and Surt used his specialised magic to purify and shape it into beautiful little belt-buckles, medallions and brooches. He had a lot of fun making loads of noise and sparks, and lots of people stopped to watch the bald smith and the giant with the braided beard.
All in all, people were having a great time.
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The two semi-immortals grinned at each other and moved through the bustling city in search for mead and new, interesting sights. Their shadow followed, also wanting to see new interesting things. None of them was disappointed.
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Neville Longbottom, Eminence Gris of Greater Magical Britain, was nervously watching the same scene. There was still so many things that could go wrong.
He had been impressed by the turnout. Almost half of magical Britain had passed through the gates today, and he didn't know exactly how many foreigners. The Royals hadn't shown up yet, but he was confident they would. From his temporary office by the town square he could see many of the odd ideas working perfectly, and Mayor Brown had planned for things he hadn't thought of. If someone got drunk and rowdy, the locals were ready with a complicated watch schedule. In case of attacks … well, considering the number of Otherton residents who could carry their own in a fight, he might actually pity the fools who attacked, but there were indeed plans. The vouchers was another idea of hers. People could get vouchers here and there, and trade them for gifts at the various town stations. At the book store, Hermione was busy signing her Grimoirettes and the shop would let people with vouchers assemble their own stationary sets, with colour-changing Mood ink, iridescent parchment and personal sealing stamps and rings. The Huldr's wood-shop was incredibly popular, and Eivor, a tall Squirreltail, had told him that people without vouchers were paying insane amounts of money to get a whole dining-room set. The whole idea of “Have an Other Christmas” was a magnificent success. That was even without the Ladies.
The Ladies of Kilchurn mingled. Dressed in splendid white robes, like snow queens each and every one of them, they charmed their way through the crowds of visitors. Women were given compliments, having their children admired and given the strong impression that these girls, whatever race they belonged to, were girls they wouldn't mind minding their children. Men didn't have their hearts broken, but one or two may have developed cracks. Everyone who introduced themselves had their name repeated back to them, and all in all, people felt that they cared about them for a while. It's amazing what a few seconds of eye contact and attention can do.
Gabrielle's pregnancy was very visible, and her clothes were actually cut to discreetly emphasize it. She drifted around, focusing mostly on young children and their mothers, asking lots of advice and endearing herself completely with all of them. Her projected aura of almost aggressive contentment probably didn't hurt either.
Ginny was vibrant, and played the crowds like an old pro, making them see her exactly as she wanted them to. It had been her dream after all, to marry the Boy Who Lived, and she had actually studied the articles in magazines to learn how to act as a celebrity and she took her new “queenship” very seriously. Her clothes were slightly more royal than the others as she really thrived on all the attention. She wore a small, discreet tiara, and her softly flaming hair made it clear to everyone why she didn't wear a hat. As she also had taken it upon herself to drift between the warming huts, using her flames to keep the heat up, she was adored. The huts had warming charms, of course, but no one had thought to mention that to her.
Disa was in the middle of a snowball fight. Her cuteness was enhanced a bit, and the little boys she was playing with thought she was way cool when she batted snowballs away with her tail. As she stopped immediately to help if someone got hurt, the carefully watching parents were happy. Jorunn looked very modest, with the exception of the challenging swishes of her red tail. She was also the only Lady in pants rather than skirt, even if Disa's skirt was only knee-long. She appeared cool and composed, and handled many of the questions asked, and dealt with complaints and of course, showed the way to the restrooms. Some situations that could have developed into something ugly was derailed by a pair of shining amber eyes under a pair of eyebrows, one of which was raised in an elegant arch. Stina, in her Elaine persona, drifted around usefully, talking to shopkeepers and functionaries all over town, jumping in anywhere an extra set of hands was needed. She packed gifts at the bookshop, she waited tables at the Tall Tails and The Heather and many of the other establishments.
They were all visible, and the people loved them for it. The whole dance was choreographed for greatest impact by the esteemed Sippa White, who had planned just what they should do to project power, respect and friendliness and she had done a great job. No one could tell that Jorunn was so nervous that she had bitten her nails down so far that she had even extended her claws just to get a bit more to bite until Harry had ordered her to stop, and healed her. Ginny hadn't needed much coaching at all, and Disa had a lifetime of experience in pretending to be cute and harmless. Gabrielle was born a creature of delight, and had only needed a bit of direction and Stina had needed quite a few lessons in restrained body language and service-mindedness. It had taken Sippa weeks to bring all the necessary skills to perfection for the girls, but it was working.
People were talking to Huldr, to Goblins, Giants, Trolls and even Dementors, learning a bit more about them, and getting a bit closer to understanding them. The Dementor candymen, who drifted around, handing out chocolate, were all followed by an Otherton child who could translate the drumspeech for everybody and a lot of people learned to appreciate the ancient beings wisdom and dessicated wit. Those who understood enough to ask also learned a lot of history, and when Bill Weasley managed to put the pieces together, he could be seen talking to the elder Chon'z, nibbling chocolate the rest of the day. The two Swedish Were-cubs had a great time pulling a sled for Ragnok, who had decided that it was a good time to do some flesh-pressing and introduce himself to the people whose money his name guarded. When the cubs grew tired, adult Weres took their place, but as soon as the cubs had rested enough they were back in the harness. It was a magically lighted sled, and a Goblin doesn't really weigh very much.
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The press of Magical Europe loved.
They loved the spectacle. They loved the colours. They loved to see Veela dancing and singing, to see House Elves make manger scenes as tableau vivants and recreations of many odd little Christmas myths and stories. A photographer managed to get a picture of Disa laughing with snow all over her face and he thanked his lucky star for what would become a collectible front page. All the Ladies of Kilchurn were lovely, accessible and friendly and to top it all off, there was the Lord.
Harry was a dynamo. He finally understood one of the oddest things about celebrity. Once you got to a certain point, people accepted you as larger than life, and they got the urge to get to know you personally, with stalkers as the most insane example. Thousands of people wanted to meet Harry. Of course they knew that he was the Boy Who Lived, the Lord of Kilchurn, Pendragon Reborn and generally a rather awesome guy, but that only made them want to know the Harry behind it all, all the more. He was walking around, talking to everyone and using his touch telepathy to glean names and simple facts about people so that he could greet them properly, ask about their wives and husbands, knowing the names of their children and asking about them. The much photographed instant where a local child had run up to him with a bloody nose so he could heal it had been staged by Neville, but Harry didn't really need to know that. When Harry moved on, he left people feeling that Britain was in pretty good hands. They nodded at each other, mouthed “Pendragon” and felt very wise. The little puppy that followed him around didn't help matters. It had been a gift from Lavender with a note about “man and beast alike..” and on Neville's suggestion, the little shaggy dog with the silvery eyes had been named Cafall. Harry hadn't caught on, and Neville found it hilarious.
Hermione, who had read all the right books, just sighed and rolled her eyes. One day, she would make Harry read those books so that he could see that his …. Seneshal, perhaps, was subtle as a bludger. Cafall, really! Some day, yes, but at the moment, there were books that needed signing, and attention to revel in.
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Stina was a lot more nervous than she let on. Her Master had almost locked her out of his mind. She didn't even know he could do that. All she had left was a sense of the others presence, and a very simple mindspeech ability. The few glimpses she got from her Master was cold, determined and more than a bit annoyed. It was very disconcerting. She suddenly realised that while she may have been able to convince herself that what she had done was the right thing, he may still have a different opinion on that, and she had actually tried to keep it from him.
This could be very bad.
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Wood creaked, ropes groaned and sails made thundering sounds as they stole the wind from each other. Much of it was just for show, though as the ship and all its associated equipment was almost indestructible, but it was easy to forget when the Captain was running around like a cat with its tail aflame. Miss Blue was getting nervous, especially as the deck planks was bulging and bending next to the masts. She called out to the scurrying Captain.
“Do we really need so much sail?”
He stopped briefly and wiped the sweat off his brow. Then he looked at her like she was the crazy one.
“Yes! If I could figure out how, I'd set the bedsheets too.”
The Goddess Luna, who Miss Blue had learned was even crazier than the Captain and apparently actually fairly close to a real Goddess wandered by and distractedly added her two knuts.
“That's a good idea. There's a big, wet spot on mine.”
The Captain seemed to take this seriously.
“On mine too, but I don't have any more masts.”
Luna smiled in a rather disturbing way.
“Lay back and give me a few seconds and I'll fix that.”
Miss Blue knew exactly what she was thinking of. One of the young girl's apparently divine powers was the ability to stuff almost anything, including the Captain's head, into herself, and still be able to hold a pencil tight a second later. Miss Blue knew enough about anatomy to know that Luna's pelvic bone must be like rubber and her skin almost indestructible in order to take that kind of stretching. Luna could also manipulate the bodies of others with great ease, which was why Miss Blue now sported F-cups that seemed to defy gravity. She screamed at the Goddess.
“Luna! I'm quite happy with his current size, thank you!”
The divinely ditzy blonde pouted.
“Meany. It's a great feeling you know. I once had one as big as my own waist!”
“If you survive the experience, sure. You're a Goddess, and I'm not!”
Before the conversation could deteriorate any further, another voice interrupted them. It came from the stern and sounded quite amused.
“Ladies! Captain! If you'd stop bickering for a second and hold on, I'll bring us up into the high winds. Let's make some waves! Figureheadatively speaking, of course.”
The flying ship lurched a bit before ascending through the clouds and the deck boards creaked as the jet streams took hold and hurled the ship forward at a dizzying speed. Over the clouds the sun shone brightly , making rainbows in the bubble of comfort charms as mile after mile was subtracted from the distance to Great Britain.
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“I'm telling you Ernie, it's just unreal. They're all here! Trolls and vampires, werewolves and all kinds of things that go bump in the night.”
The gangly man waved his hands around, and if it hadn't been for the self-closing stein, he would have showered the inside of The Heather in ale. His drunken whispers could clearly be heard by all of the patrons which included the uniformed man with a silver moon on his shoulder. Commander Steiner made eye contact with the barkeep, but the werewolf just smiled and made a gesture at his eye with the meaning 'I'm not worried, but please keep an eye on him. I am.' The flaxen-haired conductor was recovering from his waving and having another loud mouthful of the ale. His elderly companion just shrugged at him.
“So? Did you see that weird Russian opera thingy? The missus insisted we'd go and I expected hours of ungodly screeching but it was beautiful. I cried at the end.”
Stan shivered and looked strangely at the old bus driver.
“Just the thought of opera makes me cry. Why aren't people fighting them off, or putting up a fence around this place or something? Some of the things in here eat people, damn it!”
Steiner frowned. He was not a vindictive man, and he had studied social sciences, history and politics in his spare time. As such, he held no grudge against society for shunning his family after the war. It was misguided and poorly aimed, but it was a result of the public determination to never let it happen again, but the attitude that led up to it reared it's ugly head all the time. This was not an attitude he was about to agree on or even let slide. His family had bought into these ideas, following both Grindelwald and Hitler, and had been more or less been stamped out. Because of this, Klaus Steiner had vowed to stamp it out as well whenever the opportunity arose.
It had arisen.
So did he, and quietly moved to the bar, taking up position behind the drunken man. He schooled his features to a friendly smile with a bit of an edge to it and spoke.
“I partly agree, Mein herr. These are indeed beings that can go bump in the night, or rather bump-bump-bump, as it were, but the good citizens of Otherton are the ones that goes out there to bump back. Who is better suited to fight off a vampire than a vampire with allies?”
The look on the young man's face was hilarious as he turned around to look straight into the Commanders chest. As his eyes slid upwards, his jaw began to make a kind of chewing motion but no sound came out. Instead, It was the older man with the odd glasses who answered.
“Having the fox guard the henhouse, you mean?”
The Commander seemed to consider this. Trying to deny the lethal potential of his fellow citizens would be foolish, but he had met that exact quote before. He grinned wolfishly and answered.
“No. It's having the fox help catch other foxes.”
“Not the first time I hear that response, soldier boy. Sometimes it even works. Have a seat over here, and tell us about life here for a human. You're one of those Lunarians, aren't you?”
Klaus smiled. This Ernie character would be easy to dismiss, but there was an active mind behind those ridiculous glasses. Helping him educate the poster boy for too cheap acne remedies could actually be fun.
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“Hello there, little girl. Enjoying yourself?”
The young woman stopped and felt her heartbeat increase immensely. She could feel it pounding in her hair. She hadn't been so unobtrusive as she thought and the tall man who was addressing her in heavily accented English had seen her. Probably a long time ago.
“Erm. Yes, My Lord. Very much so.”
“And your reason for following us through this crowded place?”
The idea of lying showed up and was ran out of town. She was talking to a God, after all. While he might not be all-knowing, he certainly wasn't stupid.
“Curiosity, My Lord. Mostly.”
The smaller man spoke from behind her, making her jump. Oddly enough, his English was perfect, if slightly Manchester.
“That, my fairhaired friend, means that she wants a couple of truly divine inches. You mammals are all the same.”
Balder threw his head back and laughed.
“You have us all worked out, Old Snake.” He turned his attention to the girl again. “If my flexible friend is right, I might just have a number of inches to spare.”
She smiled. The young god seemed quite willing to extend the bantering to her, so she replied in kind.
“That does sound like a great plan for the immediate future, although I wouldn't turn down some cold comfort from the handsome reptile either.”
The look on Fafner's humanized face was priceless, and anything but revolted. He seemed genuinely shocked. Once Balder stopped laughing, he said “No fear, old friend. I make very good bodies. You are a fully functional mammal.” Then he put his arm around the girl, grabbed Fafner's arm and began walking as he said to her ,
“Come on then, my dear, and let us show my friend here why mammals have more fun.”
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“Miss White, how nice to see you again. How are things working out? I know you've been very busy.”
“Thank you, My Lord. So far so good, I'd say. Your Ladies were a delight to work with and the feral Huldr are doing their best. It's certainly good enough, but I fear none of them will ever be mistaken for a Lady. Of course the definition of a Lady is in question these days.”
He chuckled, a sound that brought chills down her spine.
“Why, Miss White. Are you implying that my Ladies might be less than traditionally ladylike? I would never have guessed.”
“Actually, My Lord, I wasn't. The classic Lady is very proper in public, whatever happens in private settings are nobody's business. Gabrielle, Ginny and Stina, and Jorunn to a lesser degree will do just fine. Disa tends to be a bit too childish, but that is really not a problem. Everybody adores her anyway.”
“I know I do, anyway. She's not all cuteness, but there's plenty of it. I have found that there's something alluring about just about all females, but I think I've collected the best.”
“I would agree, but … really all females?”
“Umbridge being the exception, and perhaps a few others. I'm not saying that I find all women attractive, but most have at least some attractive traits.”
“I know I really shouldn't ask, but … how about me?”
The young sorcerer looked her straight in her eyes, nailing her to the spot. The intensity of his gaze brought her Veela heritage to the fore, and she felt herself becoming willing prey. Her nipples hardened fast enough to hurt a bit, and her silk underwear wouldn't have become soaked any faster if she had soiled herself. He answered her in a low growl, carrying undertones of desire, and overtones of affection, both things that she had been largely denied during her adult life.
“You? Graceful you, controlled you, softspoken you, sophisticated you? The thought of you in the throes of passion, sweating and grunting in complete abandon, calling for more, harder, crying in pleasure is very attractive. With your permission I'd love to try it sometime.”
She couldn't speak. Her eyes were wells of desire, and her whole being was calling out to him, begging to be taken. The young man smiled in recognition, bowed a little and left. She fought her desire for control of her body, getting her laboured breathing under control and trying in vain to keep the fire between her thighs in check. With a deep breath she managed to control her appearance, and with great feeling she said to herself,
“Damn him!”
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Stina froze. Literally. Her outermost layer, what most people would call her skin, was frozen solid and she couldn't move. Her formidable mind couldn't reach out of her own skull and the being, hundreds of years old and used to be independent and powerful was terrified. She wasn't used to relying on her more human senses to perceive the world but now she had to, and she actually managed to make her nose a little better than average. It didn't reassure her at all.
She sensed someone standing behind her. Someone very, very male. There was leather, scales, spices and excited females in his scent. There was smoke from torches and fires, mulled cider, warm butterbeer, hot metal, candy, wood and a little bit of everything. There was also rage and ozone from accidental magic discharges. The fact that she knew who it was, and loved him, didn't calm her. She desperately tried to pull heat from the Loch to melt herself, but the ice held her fast.
“It's amazing that a creature as old as you can act so much like a silly little girl. You know I'm developing every day. You know that every time I dive into that pensieve my mother prepared for me, I learn new things. Have you forgotten that the telepathy you use above water comes from my mind, and you can only use it with my permission? How could you not know that i'd know?”
She couldn't answer, and she didn't particularly want to either. She didn't have a good answer. She had been more than a little stupid, and that stupidity had cost a young woman her mind, in a way.
“I don't really care about that. She wasn't that happy in her old life. Now she will be. Besides, she's a hot little thing and she can really move that tight little arse of hers. What bothers me is your deception.”
He could read her thoughts, and she didn't even feel it! She involuntarily thought of all the things she didn't want him to know about her, realising that it would bring it all to his attention but unable to stop herself.
“I see. No, that doesn't bother me. Neither does that. Nor that. Really? Intriguing. Nope. Sorry, love, there's nothing here that makes me want to push you away. Yes, I'll punish you. You have something to learn.”
Finally, he wouldn't be able to read her thoughts, as her mind just went blank. She had deceived him, almost betrayed his trust and he still loved her. He had proven that by transmitting an emotional burst to her during his commentary of her thoughts. She felt an alien presence in her mind, something cold and deliberate as her skin thawed. Some kind of control device was added to her mind and to her, it felt like a leash. Oddly enough, it made her happy.
“I have taken control of a few things. You will not be able to morph on your own. You will feel things like a human would. I've locked you in your Elaine shape and there's just one more thing to do for now until I can punish you adequately.”
As she felt her vagina seal itself shut and her clitoris move inside it, she sobbed. She had gotten out of punishments before by minor, judicious morphings. This time, it wouldn't be so easy. This time, he had put his foot down and he had done so in her very mind. She belonged to him. He knew that, and now, so did she.
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Jimmy Jinx knew that he wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed.
He might have been right about that, but that didn't mean that he was stupid in any way. He just didn't know a whole lot. Also, he had learned not to think too much, because whenever he did, he started to see his whole life as rather pointless, his buddies as complete morons and most of the Truths he had learned as sheer stupidity. He had practised his stupidity for years and he was very good at it. This however, was beyond his training. He didn't have it in him to be stupid enough for this and so, he conceded. He started to think. The English snakelike fellow had promised many things that didn't make sense. Why would he stage an attack on the rebels in Washington from England? Why did he need so many good, red-blooded Americans? Why didn't he even try and teach them more spells? Jimmy Jinx had no illusions about how long he could hold off a cop, and he had understood that they were going up against warriors now like some kind of magical Marines. He couldn't believe it was as easy a thing as the snake-guy said. It was going to be Bacon Bay all over again. No, that wasn't right. Bay of Alamo? What about the bacon? Some kind of pig was involved, and a bay. Oh, screw that. Anyway, the snake-dude had shimmered a coupla times, too. He didn't look all that snakey any more, but he didn't seem to know it just yet. He was still bald, but looked like any insane old man that Jimmy had ever seen and back home there had been a lot of those. Something weren't right. That was why he hung back a bit and kept his eyes peeled. He had let the Stupid get the better of him. The Stupid was good and all, but this time he could sense that it really had gotten him into trouble.
It was hard to see things in this strange terrain, but you didn't grow up in the swamps without learning to see things that were really there. They were being tailed. Of course, Jimmy Jinx didn't know how very right he were, but the Huldr following the makeshift Dark Army noticed his furtive looks and how he hung back a bit. For now, though, they waited.
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“Ah, Lord Fafnersson, taking the time to socialise with us mere mortals?”
Hermione grinned at her protector. He was standing next to her chair, so she made sure that he remembered her gender by pulling back her shoulders a bit. Harry didn't need a reminder. He knew exactly what she had in mind. She was just a bit behind him on that front. He put his hand on her neck and sent an original impulse into her nervous system. The sensation of cold and a light breeze. Like her clothes had suddenly vanished. She shuddered in response of course, but Harry was certain that it was not from the cold itself. He grinned unrepentantly back at her.
“Miss Granger, how could I stay away? Your beauty and wit attracts me like a moth to the flame.”
“Git.”
“Are not!”
“Are too!”
“Can you spare a minute?”
“I guess. Is it important?”
“Tell you what. Come along, and tell me off later if it wasn't, ok?”
He grabbed her by the hand and pulled her away from her signing table. The line had dwindled down but there was still a crowd around that smiled knowingly at her blushing face.
He led her around a corner and through a door. Well inside, he kissed her hard, and even laced some passionfire into it, enough to distract her from the charms he placed on the small room they were in. One of these charms conjured a table very similar to the one she had been sitting by. She didn't notice as he laid her down on it and pulled his finger from her throat to her crotch and as his finger passed, the cloth melted away. He didn't give her time to do or say anything before he assaulted her moist petals with his tongue. As he recited some Shakespeare in Parseltongue, all she could do was writhe under his attention. He stopped just before she came and simply flipped her over with a slight twitch of his magic. She was staring dumbly into a very uninteresting wall as she felt the heat of his member against her soaked bum. As she felt him beginning to push his way inside her petals, she heard him say,
“Ready to apparate?”
She didn't have time to respond, or remember that as far as she knew, Harry couldn't apparate. There was a sensation of pressure, movement and cold, and instead of the boring wall, she found herself bent over her signing table, staring out over the crowds as she felt him enter her, stimulating all the sweet spots at once in full view of all the people. She climaxed instantly, violently and loudly, and passed out.
When she came to, she was fully dressed, lying on a cot in the little room they had gone off to. There was a note in her hand.
“Sorry about the shag-and-run, but you have to admit, it was fun! No, I didn't apparate us. I call it the IMAX-charm. Illusions can be so much fun.”
She giggled a little to herself. She had to admit that he was right, and she wouldn't be telling him off about it in any way. Then she frowned. There was no indications that he had gotten off at all. She had to make it up to him very soon.
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“...we just don't know. The child is healthy, but there's no way to tell how long it'll be.”
Gabrielle was talking to a group of mothers by the snowball field. Suddenly, she became aware of her husband's presence and was almost shocked of his excited state. She turned, and saw him almost bouncing through the crowds with shining, happy eyes.
“Hi love! Something's come up. Could you come with me for a few minutes?”
She made her excuses and quickly arched to the castle. The arch room was barely lit, but Gabrielle could see a faint glow in her husband's eyes as he gently pushed her down on her knees. She didn't have any problem guessing what it was that “was up”.
She deftly released his member from its confined space and watched in fascination as it expanded to full size. She knew that he had to morph it down a bit to fit in a pair of normal trousers, and with erection there was no hiding it in ordinary, unglamoured cloth. The head was rising before her eyes, and a shining drop could be seen at the tip. She extended her pink tongue, savouring it before she took a deep breath and lodged the entire length of him down her throat. Her senses told him that he just wanted to get off, and she was more than happy to oblige. She settled for a gentle rhythm for a while before she started varying the depth. She stood up, bent forward at the waist as she took him deep. She opened her coat and blouse so she could rub him against her breasts. She used every Veela trick with her tongue to tease his crown until it was as engorged and sensitive as possible before sliding him slowly down her throat again. She smiled to herself when he grabbed her head and raised the pace. As soon as she felt the telltale twitches she pulled back, letting his cum fill her mouth and decorate her face, running in little streams down on her breasts. She licked him meticulously clean and tucked his now more pliable member into his pants again. Then she smiled up at him with shining eyes.
“Thank you, Love. Run along now. People are sure to miss you.”
He smiled back, but didn't say anything as he Arched back to Otherton. Alone in the chamber, Gabrielle cleaned herself up with her tongue and a conjured towel. She smiled to herself. This was what she wanted. This was what being Veela was all about and it was beginning to look like her husband finally had understood it.
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Word was going out. The giants didn't do anything special, but they all checked the whereabouts of their weaponry. Some of the Seidheim people, most of them military, began to sneak away. There was some shifts in the staff at several shops and establishments all over Otherton as the most able fighters moved, unobtrusively, towards Kilchurn. The Dark Army was on its way. Several hundred Dark Wizards were moving towards the castle and the Other forces were responding.
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Jimmy Jinx cocked his head. He could have sworn he heard voices overhead screaming something about overshooting, steering like a piece of driftwood and Nargles. He decided to take it as an omen. Sifting through memories half obscured by Stupid, he retrieved a charm he had once learned and almost forgotten. As he cast it as quietly as he could, he vanished from sight. In his place was a vaguely human shaped blob that trailed after the others for a few hundred meters before it vanished. Jimmy sat down on a rock, wondering what to do next. He was in a strange land, wearing strange clothes and with a brand new “McWhomper”, hickory and Sasquatch hair, from McWands. He was also, for no obvious reason, incredibly horny.
Author's greetings.
Not dead yet. This story will be finished. There's just one more chappie to go, and possibly an epilogue.
I think.
I'm not sure.
This story has turned around to bite me in the privates one too many times to be entirely trustworthy. And no, all the loose threads will not be tied up. This story has been a starting point for many odd little stories and fates, and frankly, I don't remember the half of them. They all made sense when they started. One thing I know, but may forget to write into the next chapter is one thing that will make you understand this Harry a bit better. Marietta and Cho are dead. He forgot to feed his pets, and they died. If Harry finds out, he'll be worried that he has forgotten other things too, like important things. Go figure.
Another thing. Loads of things in this chapter was heavily inspired by another author, who has written an amazing world. The entire Other Christmas, actually. Guess anyone? I'll tell you in review responses somewhere.
As for my closing line in this chapter, have you read my little standalone “The Morsel”?
Vanir
This disclaimer means to state that this chappie goes up UNBETA'd. Injuries caused by untethered grammar can be corrected at St. Mungo's Spelling Damage ward. You're warned.
The Carpenter said nothing but
It started very simple, with a rhythm from a Jaw harp. The dwarf playing it was standing at the centre of a large circle surrounded by people of all kinds of species and races. As soon as the rhythm had caught on, and people started swaying gently to it, six fiddlers entered the open area at equal distances around him. They cradled keyed fiddles in their arms and started grinding out a haunting tune in minor key. Behind them came the silvery wisps that signalled the presence of Norse fairies about to become corporeal. As the fiddlers reached the centre, the fairies started to dance around them. Half beautiful females, half mist, they swirled around the circle, faces, arms and bodies appearing and disappearing in the shining mist. The song grew more complex, repeating itself, adding counterpoints and harmonies until six mountain trolls stepped into the circle. Marching steadily to the rhythm, their long arms began weaving a surprisingly graceful pattern in the swirling fairy mist. The people in the audience looked briefly at each other. Who had believed that the dumb, hulking beasts could dance? Their stubby legs would never be able to Polka, but those long, muscular arms made up for the lack of footwork as they drew intricate runes in the mist. The trolls could even sing, guttural staccato bursts that added yet another level to the music. The circle began to glow, stronger for each passing note. The Huldr joined. Dressed in flowing white gowns, they moved from a ring dance around the circle, to smaller rings around each troll, hither and yon, hither and yon until the light was almost too bright to watch. The musicians stopped playing, the dancers collapsed on the ground, but the music continued, the shining lights of the Dance soared, higher and higher until the light faded and the music could no longer be heard. One of the trolls raised his head and shouted up to the clouds that were still faintly lit by the Dance..
“Zh'aka teo Zhogi yugitamm teo!”
Then, it began to snow.
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A very tall blonde man was moving through the throngs of people. His fair hair was a bit more than shoulder length, and his ice blue eyes had a peculiar warmth to them and more than one passing female felt the carnal power of the tall stranger's smile. His clothes were slightly archaic. At this day and in this weather, the abundance of fur went by largely unnoticed, but a keen observer would be able to spot that the kind of bear that had donated the pelts had been extinct for almost two thousand years.
One such observer was indeed watching.
The really remarkable thing was the way the tall man moved. It would have been nearly impossible, but people moved out of his way without really noticing it, something another man took advantage of, following in his large friends wake. While people gave space to the large, muscular and certainly handsome friend, the smaller man was able to move around people, getting through gaps that should have been too small but only when he needed it. His large friend was able to part the sea of people long enough for the small man to keep up. The observer watched the smaller man too. He had an unruly mop of black hair and vivid green eyes. Not quite like the Lord of Kilchurn, but he could be mistaken for a close relative even though this man was of medium height, while the Lord was rather short. The observer cast a small eavesdropping spell to listen in on the conversation. Fortunately, the observer was good enough with runes and modern Icelandic to understand the Ancient Norse.
“He's done well for himself, I'd say. What's the view like from up there?”
“Insolent earthworm,” the tall man laughed. “Fewer armpits. You should have let me make you taller.”
“Not on your recycled life! My eyes are at the correct distance from the ground like this, even if they're too tightly spaced.”
“Can you imagine what all the children would say if they saw you as you are?”
“Vividly. In this place, at this time they would say 'look mummy. It's a great big snake. Where's the candy?'”
“You may well be right. Just look at this place. There's such incredible variety.”
The two inhuman figures stopped and took in the scene. It was indeed incredible.
Otherton had gone all out.
House elves wearing red jackets and green pants were everywhere, handing out hot cider, wassail and eggnog.
A number of Dementors in the ghastly neon robes that had almost become a uniform for them were walking around like sandwich men, advertising the upcoming Veela production of The Nutcracker Suite.
Later, the Veela would perform Rimskij-Korsakov's “Snegourchka”, possibly for the first time outside of Russia.
Several of the dementors were also hanging around the big snowball-field, reinforcing the cold and maintaining the snowfall. They couldn't help the pretty little blueskinned Yuki-Onna in maintaining the ice sculptures around town, but they could keep up the cold while the Japanese frost spirits made their frozen art. The Nifelheim giants used their slightly more martial affinity for cold and ice to maintain the ice fortresses on the snowball field and the other large structures, like the very odd warming huts that was spread around the unnaturally cold town.
Giants and Werewolves were strolling around dressed up as all the various versions of the season's most popular figure. Big jolly American-style Santas, twinkling blue Polish Starmen, S:t Nicklaus and many others drifted around, handing out little vouchers to the various gift-stations spread around town. The oversized, animated horse skeleton had been retired early. Christmas tradition or not, it had been too terrifying.
A temporary greenhouse also housed a large group of Huldr, who used their powers to twist living trees into desired shapes. Small willow plants were brought in, and grew to chairs, desks or cradles in just a few minutes under the care of the bushy-tailed beauties.
The magnificent seamstresses from the Bouquet made good business as well. They already had a certain fame, and heavy holiday discounts made their shop very popular. People loved watching Ribbon weave her silk bundles, and when people wanted a fitted piece, Lilac actually made a bit of a show of her instant measuring. Two seamstresses from Seidheim did the actual magical sewing and finishing work, as Lavender was busy being Mayor Brown. The biggest product of the day, though, was the cloaks. They were in different colours and a couple of different styles and sizes, not to strain the sizing charms unduly as that would make them wear out too soon. All of them had a little patch with a sprig of holly on top of the blue, green and yellow pattern of the Breadalbane family, the more or less official Kilchurn tartan. They sold cloaks by the dozen and those who wanted a very special cloak had their brooches made by Surt and Leif over by the makeshift outdoor forge. The giant reached into the ground and used his Earthway to pull the metals to him, and Surt used his specialised magic to purify and shape it into beautiful little belt-buckles, medallions and brooches. He had a lot of fun making loads of noise and sparks, and lots of people stopped to watch the bald smith and the giant with the braided beard.
All in all, people were having a great time.
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The two semi-immortals grinned at each other and moved through the bustling city in search for mead and new, interesting sights. Their shadow followed, also wanting to see new interesting things. None of them was disappointed.
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Neville Longbottom, Eminence Gris of Greater Magical Britain, was nervously watching the same scene. There was still so many things that could go wrong.
He had been impressed by the turnout. Almost half of magical Britain had passed through the gates today, and he didn't know exactly how many foreigners. The Royals hadn't shown up yet, but he was confident they would. From his temporary office by the town square he could see many of the odd ideas working perfectly, and Mayor Brown had planned for things he hadn't thought of. If someone got drunk and rowdy, the locals were ready with a complicated watch schedule. In case of attacks … well, considering the number of Otherton residents who could carry their own in a fight, he might actually pity the fools who attacked, but there were indeed plans. The vouchers was another idea of hers. People could get vouchers here and there, and trade them for gifts at the various town stations. At the book store, Hermione was busy signing her Grimoirettes and the shop would let people with vouchers assemble their own stationary sets, with colour-changing Mood ink, iridescent parchment and personal sealing stamps and rings. The Huldr's wood-shop was incredibly popular, and Eivor, a tall Squirreltail, had told him that people without vouchers were paying insane amounts of money to get a whole dining-room set. The whole idea of “Have an Other Christmas” was a magnificent success. That was even without the Ladies.
The Ladies of Kilchurn mingled. Dressed in splendid white robes, like snow queens each and every one of them, they charmed their way through the crowds of visitors. Women were given compliments, having their children admired and given the strong impression that these girls, whatever race they belonged to, were girls they wouldn't mind minding their children. Men didn't have their hearts broken, but one or two may have developed cracks. Everyone who introduced themselves had their name repeated back to them, and all in all, people felt that they cared about them for a while. It's amazing what a few seconds of eye contact and attention can do.
Gabrielle's pregnancy was very visible, and her clothes were actually cut to discreetly emphasize it. She drifted around, focusing mostly on young children and their mothers, asking lots of advice and endearing herself completely with all of them. Her projected aura of almost aggressive contentment probably didn't hurt either.
Ginny was vibrant, and played the crowds like an old pro, making them see her exactly as she wanted them to. It had been her dream after all, to marry the Boy Who Lived, and she had actually studied the articles in magazines to learn how to act as a celebrity and she took her new “queenship” very seriously. Her clothes were slightly more royal than the others as she really thrived on all the attention. She wore a small, discreet tiara, and her softly flaming hair made it clear to everyone why she didn't wear a hat. As she also had taken it upon herself to drift between the warming huts, using her flames to keep the heat up, she was adored. The huts had warming charms, of course, but no one had thought to mention that to her.
Disa was in the middle of a snowball fight. Her cuteness was enhanced a bit, and the little boys she was playing with thought she was way cool when she batted snowballs away with her tail. As she stopped immediately to help if someone got hurt, the carefully watching parents were happy. Jorunn looked very modest, with the exception of the challenging swishes of her red tail. She was also the only Lady in pants rather than skirt, even if Disa's skirt was only knee-long. She appeared cool and composed, and handled many of the questions asked, and dealt with complaints and of course, showed the way to the restrooms. Some situations that could have developed into something ugly was derailed by a pair of shining amber eyes under a pair of eyebrows, one of which was raised in an elegant arch. Stina, in her Elaine persona, drifted around usefully, talking to shopkeepers and functionaries all over town, jumping in anywhere an extra set of hands was needed. She packed gifts at the bookshop, she waited tables at the Tall Tails and The Heather and many of the other establishments.
They were all visible, and the people loved them for it. The whole dance was choreographed for greatest impact by the esteemed Sippa White, who had planned just what they should do to project power, respect and friendliness and she had done a great job. No one could tell that Jorunn was so nervous that she had bitten her nails down so far that she had even extended her claws just to get a bit more to bite until Harry had ordered her to stop, and healed her. Ginny hadn't needed much coaching at all, and Disa had a lifetime of experience in pretending to be cute and harmless. Gabrielle was born a creature of delight, and had only needed a bit of direction and Stina had needed quite a few lessons in restrained body language and service-mindedness. It had taken Sippa weeks to bring all the necessary skills to perfection for the girls, but it was working.
People were talking to Huldr, to Goblins, Giants, Trolls and even Dementors, learning a bit more about them, and getting a bit closer to understanding them. The Dementor candymen, who drifted around, handing out chocolate, were all followed by an Otherton child who could translate the drumspeech for everybody and a lot of people learned to appreciate the ancient beings wisdom and dessicated wit. Those who understood enough to ask also learned a lot of history, and when Bill Weasley managed to put the pieces together, he could be seen talking to the elder Chon'z, nibbling chocolate the rest of the day. The two Swedish Were-cubs had a great time pulling a sled for Ragnok, who had decided that it was a good time to do some flesh-pressing and introduce himself to the people whose money his name guarded. When the cubs grew tired, adult Weres took their place, but as soon as the cubs had rested enough they were back in the harness. It was a magically lighted sled, and a Goblin doesn't really weigh very much.
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The press of Magical Europe loved.
They loved the spectacle. They loved the colours. They loved to see Veela dancing and singing, to see House Elves make manger scenes as tableau vivants and recreations of many odd little Christmas myths and stories. A photographer managed to get a picture of Disa laughing with snow all over her face and he thanked his lucky star for what would become a collectible front page. All the Ladies of Kilchurn were lovely, accessible and friendly and to top it all off, there was the Lord.
Harry was a dynamo. He finally understood one of the oddest things about celebrity. Once you got to a certain point, people accepted you as larger than life, and they got the urge to get to know you personally, with stalkers as the most insane example. Thousands of people wanted to meet Harry. Of course they knew that he was the Boy Who Lived, the Lord of Kilchurn, Pendragon Reborn and generally a rather awesome guy, but that only made them want to know the Harry behind it all, all the more. He was walking around, talking to everyone and using his touch telepathy to glean names and simple facts about people so that he could greet them properly, ask about their wives and husbands, knowing the names of their children and asking about them. The much photographed instant where a local child had run up to him with a bloody nose so he could heal it had been staged by Neville, but Harry didn't really need to know that. When Harry moved on, he left people feeling that Britain was in pretty good hands. They nodded at each other, mouthed “Pendragon” and felt very wise. The little puppy that followed him around didn't help matters. It had been a gift from Lavender with a note about “man and beast alike..” and on Neville's suggestion, the little shaggy dog with the silvery eyes had been named Cafall. Harry hadn't caught on, and Neville found it hilarious.
Hermione, who had read all the right books, just sighed and rolled her eyes. One day, she would make Harry read those books so that he could see that his …. Seneshal, perhaps, was subtle as a bludger. Cafall, really! Some day, yes, but at the moment, there were books that needed signing, and attention to revel in.
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Stina was a lot more nervous than she let on. Her Master had almost locked her out of his mind. She didn't even know he could do that. All she had left was a sense of the others presence, and a very simple mindspeech ability. The few glimpses she got from her Master was cold, determined and more than a bit annoyed. It was very disconcerting. She suddenly realised that while she may have been able to convince herself that what she had done was the right thing, he may still have a different opinion on that, and she had actually tried to keep it from him.
This could be very bad.
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Wood creaked, ropes groaned and sails made thundering sounds as they stole the wind from each other. Much of it was just for show, though as the ship and all its associated equipment was almost indestructible, but it was easy to forget when the Captain was running around like a cat with its tail aflame. Miss Blue was getting nervous, especially as the deck planks was bulging and bending next to the masts. She called out to the scurrying Captain.
“Do we really need so much sail?”
He stopped briefly and wiped the sweat off his brow. Then he looked at her like she was the crazy one.
“Yes! If I could figure out how, I'd set the bedsheets too.”
The Goddess Luna, who Miss Blue had learned was even crazier than the Captain and apparently actually fairly close to a real Goddess wandered by and distractedly added her two knuts.
“That's a good idea. There's a big, wet spot on mine.”
The Captain seemed to take this seriously.
“On mine too, but I don't have any more masts.”
Luna smiled in a rather disturbing way.
“Lay back and give me a few seconds and I'll fix that.”
Miss Blue knew exactly what she was thinking of. One of the young girl's apparently divine powers was the ability to stuff almost anything, including the Captain's head, into herself, and still be able to hold a pencil tight a second later. Miss Blue knew enough about anatomy to know that Luna's pelvic bone must be like rubber and her skin almost indestructible in order to take that kind of stretching. Luna could also manipulate the bodies of others with great ease, which was why Miss Blue now sported F-cups that seemed to defy gravity. She screamed at the Goddess.
“Luna! I'm quite happy with his current size, thank you!”
The divinely ditzy blonde pouted.
“Meany. It's a great feeling you know. I once had one as big as my own waist!”
“If you survive the experience, sure. You're a Goddess, and I'm not!”
Before the conversation could deteriorate any further, another voice interrupted them. It came from the stern and sounded quite amused.
“Ladies! Captain! If you'd stop bickering for a second and hold on, I'll bring us up into the high winds. Let's make some waves! Figureheadatively speaking, of course.”
The flying ship lurched a bit before ascending through the clouds and the deck boards creaked as the jet streams took hold and hurled the ship forward at a dizzying speed. Over the clouds the sun shone brightly , making rainbows in the bubble of comfort charms as mile after mile was subtracted from the distance to Great Britain.
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“I'm telling you Ernie, it's just unreal. They're all here! Trolls and vampires, werewolves and all kinds of things that go bump in the night.”
The gangly man waved his hands around, and if it hadn't been for the self-closing stein, he would have showered the inside of The Heather in ale. His drunken whispers could clearly be heard by all of the patrons which included the uniformed man with a silver moon on his shoulder. Commander Steiner made eye contact with the barkeep, but the werewolf just smiled and made a gesture at his eye with the meaning 'I'm not worried, but please keep an eye on him. I am.' The flaxen-haired conductor was recovering from his waving and having another loud mouthful of the ale. His elderly companion just shrugged at him.
“So? Did you see that weird Russian opera thingy? The missus insisted we'd go and I expected hours of ungodly screeching but it was beautiful. I cried at the end.”
Stan shivered and looked strangely at the old bus driver.
“Just the thought of opera makes me cry. Why aren't people fighting them off, or putting up a fence around this place or something? Some of the things in here eat people, damn it!”
Steiner frowned. He was not a vindictive man, and he had studied social sciences, history and politics in his spare time. As such, he held no grudge against society for shunning his family after the war. It was misguided and poorly aimed, but it was a result of the public determination to never let it happen again, but the attitude that led up to it reared it's ugly head all the time. This was not an attitude he was about to agree on or even let slide. His family had bought into these ideas, following both Grindelwald and Hitler, and had been more or less been stamped out. Because of this, Klaus Steiner had vowed to stamp it out as well whenever the opportunity arose.
It had arisen.
So did he, and quietly moved to the bar, taking up position behind the drunken man. He schooled his features to a friendly smile with a bit of an edge to it and spoke.
“I partly agree, Mein herr. These are indeed beings that can go bump in the night, or rather bump-bump-bump, as it were, but the good citizens of Otherton are the ones that goes out there to bump back. Who is better suited to fight off a vampire than a vampire with allies?”
The look on the young man's face was hilarious as he turned around to look straight into the Commanders chest. As his eyes slid upwards, his jaw began to make a kind of chewing motion but no sound came out. Instead, It was the older man with the odd glasses who answered.
“Having the fox guard the henhouse, you mean?”
The Commander seemed to consider this. Trying to deny the lethal potential of his fellow citizens would be foolish, but he had met that exact quote before. He grinned wolfishly and answered.
“No. It's having the fox help catch other foxes.”
“Not the first time I hear that response, soldier boy. Sometimes it even works. Have a seat over here, and tell us about life here for a human. You're one of those Lunarians, aren't you?”
Klaus smiled. This Ernie character would be easy to dismiss, but there was an active mind behind those ridiculous glasses. Helping him educate the poster boy for too cheap acne remedies could actually be fun.
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“Hello there, little girl. Enjoying yourself?”
The young woman stopped and felt her heartbeat increase immensely. She could feel it pounding in her hair. She hadn't been so unobtrusive as she thought and the tall man who was addressing her in heavily accented English had seen her. Probably a long time ago.
“Erm. Yes, My Lord. Very much so.”
“And your reason for following us through this crowded place?”
The idea of lying showed up and was ran out of town. She was talking to a God, after all. While he might not be all-knowing, he certainly wasn't stupid.
“Curiosity, My Lord. Mostly.”
The smaller man spoke from behind her, making her jump. Oddly enough, his English was perfect, if slightly Manchester.
“That, my fairhaired friend, means that she wants a couple of truly divine inches. You mammals are all the same.”
Balder threw his head back and laughed.
“You have us all worked out, Old Snake.” He turned his attention to the girl again. “If my flexible friend is right, I might just have a number of inches to spare.”
She smiled. The young god seemed quite willing to extend the bantering to her, so she replied in kind.
“That does sound like a great plan for the immediate future, although I wouldn't turn down some cold comfort from the handsome reptile either.”
The look on Fafner's humanized face was priceless, and anything but revolted. He seemed genuinely shocked. Once Balder stopped laughing, he said “No fear, old friend. I make very good bodies. You are a fully functional mammal.” Then he put his arm around the girl, grabbed Fafner's arm and began walking as he said to her ,
“Come on then, my dear, and let us show my friend here why mammals have more fun.”
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“Miss White, how nice to see you again. How are things working out? I know you've been very busy.”
“Thank you, My Lord. So far so good, I'd say. Your Ladies were a delight to work with and the feral Huldr are doing their best. It's certainly good enough, but I fear none of them will ever be mistaken for a Lady. Of course the definition of a Lady is in question these days.”
He chuckled, a sound that brought chills down her spine.
“Why, Miss White. Are you implying that my Ladies might be less than traditionally ladylike? I would never have guessed.”
“Actually, My Lord, I wasn't. The classic Lady is very proper in public, whatever happens in private settings are nobody's business. Gabrielle, Ginny and Stina, and Jorunn to a lesser degree will do just fine. Disa tends to be a bit too childish, but that is really not a problem. Everybody adores her anyway.”
“I know I do, anyway. She's not all cuteness, but there's plenty of it. I have found that there's something alluring about just about all females, but I think I've collected the best.”
“I would agree, but … really all females?”
“Umbridge being the exception, and perhaps a few others. I'm not saying that I find all women attractive, but most have at least some attractive traits.”
“I know I really shouldn't ask, but … how about me?”
The young sorcerer looked her straight in her eyes, nailing her to the spot. The intensity of his gaze brought her Veela heritage to the fore, and she felt herself becoming willing prey. Her nipples hardened fast enough to hurt a bit, and her silk underwear wouldn't have become soaked any faster if she had soiled herself. He answered her in a low growl, carrying undertones of desire, and overtones of affection, both things that she had been largely denied during her adult life.
“You? Graceful you, controlled you, softspoken you, sophisticated you? The thought of you in the throes of passion, sweating and grunting in complete abandon, calling for more, harder, crying in pleasure is very attractive. With your permission I'd love to try it sometime.”
She couldn't speak. Her eyes were wells of desire, and her whole being was calling out to him, begging to be taken. The young man smiled in recognition, bowed a little and left. She fought her desire for control of her body, getting her laboured breathing under control and trying in vain to keep the fire between her thighs in check. With a deep breath she managed to control her appearance, and with great feeling she said to herself,
“Damn him!”
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Stina froze. Literally. Her outermost layer, what most people would call her skin, was frozen solid and she couldn't move. Her formidable mind couldn't reach out of her own skull and the being, hundreds of years old and used to be independent and powerful was terrified. She wasn't used to relying on her more human senses to perceive the world but now she had to, and she actually managed to make her nose a little better than average. It didn't reassure her at all.
She sensed someone standing behind her. Someone very, very male. There was leather, scales, spices and excited females in his scent. There was smoke from torches and fires, mulled cider, warm butterbeer, hot metal, candy, wood and a little bit of everything. There was also rage and ozone from accidental magic discharges. The fact that she knew who it was, and loved him, didn't calm her. She desperately tried to pull heat from the Loch to melt herself, but the ice held her fast.
“It's amazing that a creature as old as you can act so much like a silly little girl. You know I'm developing every day. You know that every time I dive into that pensieve my mother prepared for me, I learn new things. Have you forgotten that the telepathy you use above water comes from my mind, and you can only use it with my permission? How could you not know that i'd know?”
She couldn't answer, and she didn't particularly want to either. She didn't have a good answer. She had been more than a little stupid, and that stupidity had cost a young woman her mind, in a way.
“I don't really care about that. She wasn't that happy in her old life. Now she will be. Besides, she's a hot little thing and she can really move that tight little arse of hers. What bothers me is your deception.”
He could read her thoughts, and she didn't even feel it! She involuntarily thought of all the things she didn't want him to know about her, realising that it would bring it all to his attention but unable to stop herself.
“I see. No, that doesn't bother me. Neither does that. Nor that. Really? Intriguing. Nope. Sorry, love, there's nothing here that makes me want to push you away. Yes, I'll punish you. You have something to learn.”
Finally, he wouldn't be able to read her thoughts, as her mind just went blank. She had deceived him, almost betrayed his trust and he still loved her. He had proven that by transmitting an emotional burst to her during his commentary of her thoughts. She felt an alien presence in her mind, something cold and deliberate as her skin thawed. Some kind of control device was added to her mind and to her, it felt like a leash. Oddly enough, it made her happy.
“I have taken control of a few things. You will not be able to morph on your own. You will feel things like a human would. I've locked you in your Elaine shape and there's just one more thing to do for now until I can punish you adequately.”
As she felt her vagina seal itself shut and her clitoris move inside it, she sobbed. She had gotten out of punishments before by minor, judicious morphings. This time, it wouldn't be so easy. This time, he had put his foot down and he had done so in her very mind. She belonged to him. He knew that, and now, so did she.
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Jimmy Jinx knew that he wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed.
He might have been right about that, but that didn't mean that he was stupid in any way. He just didn't know a whole lot. Also, he had learned not to think too much, because whenever he did, he started to see his whole life as rather pointless, his buddies as complete morons and most of the Truths he had learned as sheer stupidity. He had practised his stupidity for years and he was very good at it. This however, was beyond his training. He didn't have it in him to be stupid enough for this and so, he conceded. He started to think. The English snakelike fellow had promised many things that didn't make sense. Why would he stage an attack on the rebels in Washington from England? Why did he need so many good, red-blooded Americans? Why didn't he even try and teach them more spells? Jimmy Jinx had no illusions about how long he could hold off a cop, and he had understood that they were going up against warriors now like some kind of magical Marines. He couldn't believe it was as easy a thing as the snake-guy said. It was going to be Bacon Bay all over again. No, that wasn't right. Bay of Alamo? What about the bacon? Some kind of pig was involved, and a bay. Oh, screw that. Anyway, the snake-dude had shimmered a coupla times, too. He didn't look all that snakey any more, but he didn't seem to know it just yet. He was still bald, but looked like any insane old man that Jimmy had ever seen and back home there had been a lot of those. Something weren't right. That was why he hung back a bit and kept his eyes peeled. He had let the Stupid get the better of him. The Stupid was good and all, but this time he could sense that it really had gotten him into trouble.
It was hard to see things in this strange terrain, but you didn't grow up in the swamps without learning to see things that were really there. They were being tailed. Of course, Jimmy Jinx didn't know how very right he were, but the Huldr following the makeshift Dark Army noticed his furtive looks and how he hung back a bit. For now, though, they waited.
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“Ah, Lord Fafnersson, taking the time to socialise with us mere mortals?”
Hermione grinned at her protector. He was standing next to her chair, so she made sure that he remembered her gender by pulling back her shoulders a bit. Harry didn't need a reminder. He knew exactly what she had in mind. She was just a bit behind him on that front. He put his hand on her neck and sent an original impulse into her nervous system. The sensation of cold and a light breeze. Like her clothes had suddenly vanished. She shuddered in response of course, but Harry was certain that it was not from the cold itself. He grinned unrepentantly back at her.
“Miss Granger, how could I stay away? Your beauty and wit attracts me like a moth to the flame.”
“Git.”
“Are not!”
“Are too!”
“Can you spare a minute?”
“I guess. Is it important?”
“Tell you what. Come along, and tell me off later if it wasn't, ok?”
He grabbed her by the hand and pulled her away from her signing table. The line had dwindled down but there was still a crowd around that smiled knowingly at her blushing face.
He led her around a corner and through a door. Well inside, he kissed her hard, and even laced some passionfire into it, enough to distract her from the charms he placed on the small room they were in. One of these charms conjured a table very similar to the one she had been sitting by. She didn't notice as he laid her down on it and pulled his finger from her throat to her crotch and as his finger passed, the cloth melted away. He didn't give her time to do or say anything before he assaulted her moist petals with his tongue. As he recited some Shakespeare in Parseltongue, all she could do was writhe under his attention. He stopped just before she came and simply flipped her over with a slight twitch of his magic. She was staring dumbly into a very uninteresting wall as she felt the heat of his member against her soaked bum. As she felt him beginning to push his way inside her petals, she heard him say,
“Ready to apparate?”
She didn't have time to respond, or remember that as far as she knew, Harry couldn't apparate. There was a sensation of pressure, movement and cold, and instead of the boring wall, she found herself bent over her signing table, staring out over the crowds as she felt him enter her, stimulating all the sweet spots at once in full view of all the people. She climaxed instantly, violently and loudly, and passed out.
When she came to, she was fully dressed, lying on a cot in the little room they had gone off to. There was a note in her hand.
“Sorry about the shag-and-run, but you have to admit, it was fun! No, I didn't apparate us. I call it the IMAX-charm. Illusions can be so much fun.”
She giggled a little to herself. She had to admit that he was right, and she wouldn't be telling him off about it in any way. Then she frowned. There was no indications that he had gotten off at all. She had to make it up to him very soon.
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“...we just don't know. The child is healthy, but there's no way to tell how long it'll be.”
Gabrielle was talking to a group of mothers by the snowball field. Suddenly, she became aware of her husband's presence and was almost shocked of his excited state. She turned, and saw him almost bouncing through the crowds with shining, happy eyes.
“Hi love! Something's come up. Could you come with me for a few minutes?”
She made her excuses and quickly arched to the castle. The arch room was barely lit, but Gabrielle could see a faint glow in her husband's eyes as he gently pushed her down on her knees. She didn't have any problem guessing what it was that “was up”.
She deftly released his member from its confined space and watched in fascination as it expanded to full size. She knew that he had to morph it down a bit to fit in a pair of normal trousers, and with erection there was no hiding it in ordinary, unglamoured cloth. The head was rising before her eyes, and a shining drop could be seen at the tip. She extended her pink tongue, savouring it before she took a deep breath and lodged the entire length of him down her throat. Her senses told him that he just wanted to get off, and she was more than happy to oblige. She settled for a gentle rhythm for a while before she started varying the depth. She stood up, bent forward at the waist as she took him deep. She opened her coat and blouse so she could rub him against her breasts. She used every Veela trick with her tongue to tease his crown until it was as engorged and sensitive as possible before sliding him slowly down her throat again. She smiled to herself when he grabbed her head and raised the pace. As soon as she felt the telltale twitches she pulled back, letting his cum fill her mouth and decorate her face, running in little streams down on her breasts. She licked him meticulously clean and tucked his now more pliable member into his pants again. Then she smiled up at him with shining eyes.
“Thank you, Love. Run along now. People are sure to miss you.”
He smiled back, but didn't say anything as he Arched back to Otherton. Alone in the chamber, Gabrielle cleaned herself up with her tongue and a conjured towel. She smiled to herself. This was what she wanted. This was what being Veela was all about and it was beginning to look like her husband finally had understood it.
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Word was going out. The giants didn't do anything special, but they all checked the whereabouts of their weaponry. Some of the Seidheim people, most of them military, began to sneak away. There was some shifts in the staff at several shops and establishments all over Otherton as the most able fighters moved, unobtrusively, towards Kilchurn. The Dark Army was on its way. Several hundred Dark Wizards were moving towards the castle and the Other forces were responding.
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Jimmy Jinx cocked his head. He could have sworn he heard voices overhead screaming something about overshooting, steering like a piece of driftwood and Nargles. He decided to take it as an omen. Sifting through memories half obscured by Stupid, he retrieved a charm he had once learned and almost forgotten. As he cast it as quietly as he could, he vanished from sight. In his place was a vaguely human shaped blob that trailed after the others for a few hundred meters before it vanished. Jimmy sat down on a rock, wondering what to do next. He was in a strange land, wearing strange clothes and with a brand new “McWhomper”, hickory and Sasquatch hair, from McWands. He was also, for no obvious reason, incredibly horny.
Author's greetings.
Not dead yet. This story will be finished. There's just one more chappie to go, and possibly an epilogue.
I think.
I'm not sure.
This story has turned around to bite me in the privates one too many times to be entirely trustworthy. And no, all the loose threads will not be tied up. This story has been a starting point for many odd little stories and fates, and frankly, I don't remember the half of them. They all made sense when they started. One thing I know, but may forget to write into the next chapter is one thing that will make you understand this Harry a bit better. Marietta and Cho are dead. He forgot to feed his pets, and they died. If Harry finds out, he'll be worried that he has forgotten other things too, like important things. Go figure.
Another thing. Loads of things in this chapter was heavily inspired by another author, who has written an amazing world. The entire Other Christmas, actually. Guess anyone? I'll tell you in review responses somewhere.
As for my closing line in this chapter, have you read my little standalone “The Morsel”?
Vanir
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