FicWad

The Heritage - Chapter 58
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A/N: Editor for this chapter is Dave
A/N: Scene from the last chapter.
Now the Goblin was smirking, a big grin came on his face and started to chuckle.

"What?" yelled Dolores.

"Nothing," answered the Goblin quickly and took the parchment and prepared himself.

"Now that you have sworn your oath, I will tell you what you are going to get. You will receive one Knut, and the title of Duke. The manor has been sold for one Knut, the properties in France were burned down and the land has been sold for a Knut as well, the vaults 335, 667 and 234 are being emptied and its contents given away.

I hope that you have a dreadful life, Dolores and your husband may get diarrhea for my sake."

The Goblin looked expectantly at the shocked Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy.


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Zacharias Smith and his father looked around them. They were portkeyed into a large hall, and there were several people surrounding them. Zacharias had his wand in his hand and he was wary of what was happening now. He recognized Anthony Goldstein and Dean Thomas, and several adults with them. He assumed that those adults wee their family members and that they activated their portkeys as well, just like him. Those Zombies had not only attacked him and his father, but others as well.

Three Aurors entered the room and all three held up their hands.

"People, listen to me," said the Auror in front. "You have arrived with the emergency portkey, I understand, and you are all in good hands," he said confidently.

"And what about my husband," Dean Thomas's mother asked.

"We are sending Aurors to your houses and we will collect all your family members and bring them here. We supply you housing and food at secret locations throughout England," the Auror immediately replied.

"And who is paying for this?" asked Zacharias Smith's father.

"Lord-Baron Potter is paying for this," said the Auror. "He also paid for your security and Portkeys."


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Private Neilson Wellow was walking through the huge castle Gryffindor on his way out. His Unit Commander Major Poster had a talk with him just five minutes ago, and Neilson Wellow was angry as hell. That son of a bitch, how could he tell him that he was not functioning as usual? And how could he tell him that he will be suspended from service if he would continue to function like the last ten days?

Neilson Wellow knew that it was because he was black, it was nothing else than pure discrimination, that son of a bitch of a Major was simply jealous, and for sure he hated everyone who had not the same skin color then himself. Even if he was black, he was one of the best performers of the unit and the Major knew that. Maybe he was a bit slow the last few days, but that was not the reason to punish him so severely, and who gave a shit about this shitty place here, too large and too many rooms to secure.

Neilson Wellow indeed had not felt well for several days and he knew that it could influence his performance in his unit, but it was not so bad that the Major must punish him like that! How could the Major do that to him? He had been in this unit for more then three years, and he always outperformed most of his mates. Is that the thanks a soldier gets when he needed some support? And instead of support, he got a lot of shit on his head.

He hated the asshole of a Major, and he was thinking about ways to damage the man, but had no idea how. Neilson Wellow walked to one of the jeeps, who stood nearby, and asked the Corporal if it was possible to bring him to the city nearby. He truly needed something to drink. The Corporal spoke in his phone, and he nodded.

"Let's go," said the Corporal. "It's okay with the old man."

He stepped in the jeep, waited until Neilson Wellow was seated and drove off. After a trip of thirty minutes they arrived at a small village and the Corporal stopped the jeep in front of something, which seemed to be a bar, according to the sign with fainted red letters above a worn out shed.

"This is as far as I can go," the Corporal said. "Have fun, and we pick you up tonight at nine pm," he said.

Neilson Wellow nodded and smiled faintly at the Corporal.

"Thank you Sir," he said hesitatingly.

"It's alright, private. You are not the only one who is stressed, and for sure I will bring more of you very soon. I see you tonight," the Corporal said with a grimace and drove away in opposite direction in high speed.

Neilson Wellow sighed and looked around him. Such a small village, he thought, when he looked to all the old scruffy houses and the old half-death trees. He stood opposite a small bar, a shabby shack with fading paint and one small dirty window and an old door, but at least the bar is open. An old oak was covering the old shack.

Neilson Wellow looked up into the air ... a watery sun was looking down at him ... some clouds at the horizon. Again a depressive day and he wished he could leave everything and go to the country of his forefathers.

Neilson Wellow entered the bar.

Like usual, the bar was dark and smelly, some tables with some chairs, and several old people were drinking and minded their own business. Neilson Wellow sighed again and walked to an empty table and sat down, waiting for somebody who could sell him some beer or maybe something stronger.

"What you want, son?" asked an old man with dirty shirt, unshaved face, watery eyes and stinking like he slept in the garbage bin.

"Scotch," Neilson Wellow whispered with a rough voice.

The old man sat nothing; he turned and came back with a bottle of Scotch and a dirty glass.

"Here you go," the old man said. "That's one seventy."

"Keep the bottle here," murmured Neilson Wellow.

"That's twenty five seventy," the man said straight away. He smiled a toothless smile.

Neilson Wellow grimaced, nodded, searched for his money and threw it on the table. The old man grabbed it immediately and disappeared.

Neilson Wellow was drinking his fourth glass of his Scotch, when suddenly a weird looking man sat in front of him. He had not seen the man enter, how strange? Neilson could see that the man was wearing expensive but old-fashioned clothing, a very long silvery beard and his eyes were strangely ... dark?

"What do you want?" Neilson Wellow growled, looking wearily.

"I want to talk to you, dear fellow," the man said easily and he smiled a lazy smile.

"Who are you?" asked Neilson. "Are you from a museum?" and he laughed.

"No, I'm not coming from a museum," the man said slowly and grinned.

"What do you want?" growled Neilson again. He felt tipsy or maybe he was already drunk, because a weirdo was sitting in front of him.

"Go away," he growled and he felt himself already sleepy. Always the same, after four or five glasses he would feel sleepy, but after the tenth he would feel strangely awake and alive and all without worry. He wanted to finish the bottle and feel happy and without all that shit of that damned Major and all other shit.

"I have a gift for you, my boy," said the old silver-white bearded old weirdo in front of him.

"Piss off," yelled Neilson angrily.

The old man did not react and continued looking at Neilson.

Neilson shook his shoulders and poured another drink in his glass. "I don't share," he murmured.

"That's alright," the old weird man answered friendly.

Neilson Wellow gulped the contents of his glass in his throat and sighed. That was much better.

The old man was looking suspiciously around him, but nobody looked at them. Screaming in a bar like this was nothing special. The old man grabbed something from his old-fashioned suite ... what was that? A stick?

Neilson snorted. "Are you a drummer, old man?" he asked amused. Maybe this time would not be as bad as he thought it would. Maybe this village idiot could give him something to laugh about.

The old man looked at him confused for a moment, and then he smiled.

"A drummer, my good man? What ever a drummer is, I don't know, but I have some instructions for you," Dumbledore said.

Neilson frowned. "Did you say instructions?" He felt himself becoming irritated. Instructions he had enough from his Major, and this son of a bitch would not give him instructions also. One is enough, and if this fool would instruct him whatever he wanted, he could stick it into his own arse, and Neilson Wellow grimaced.

"Yes, my dear fellow, I said instructions," Dumbledore smiled and pointed his wand to the soldier.

"Imperio," he whispered.


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As the Corporal had promised, at exactly nine o'clock in the evening he was showing up with his jeep and looked expectantly at Neilson Wellow, who was waiting for the Corporal.

"Are you alright and able to come with me on your own legs?" the Corporal asked grimacing.

Neilson nodded. As the Corporal already said, he was not the only one. Three Americans and two British Special Forces unit members had joined him in the early afternoon, but all of the others were too drunk to walk on their feet, and they were on the ground in a heap of arms and legs.

Neilson grinned at the Corporal. "Corporal, we need to throw those here in the back and we are ready to go."

Neilson and the Corporal threw the men in the back of the jeep, and Neilson took place next to the Corporal. Soon they were on their way back to the Gryffindor castle. Nobody said a word when they were driving and the trip was almost boring, but Neilson felt something else.

He felt that he had a purpose in life, which he had not had for a very long time. He remembered when his parents were still alive; he used to visit them every weekend. But cancer took them both away from him, and he was now living almost like a zombie since then. It was only fourteen days ago when they died. He never had cried, never grieved, and the Major had helped him organizing his parent's funeral. For that he was grateful, but for the rest the Major could fuck him self and he sighed.

At least he had purpose again, the feeling which brought this purpose was much more intense then he felt when his parents were alive. He had loved his mother with everything he had and he loved her cooking and missed her hugs. His father was a quiet man, but was always there for him when he needed some support, even when he did not say much.

But now with the new resolve and purpose in his life Neilson Wellow felt happy again. The strange thing was that he did not feel drunk ... not even tipsy. He remembered vaguely a strange old man with a long beard and black pools instead of eyes ... what a shit, he started to hallucinate already ... maybe he drank too much and he could not remember it anymore.

At last the jeep reached the castle and they stopped. The Corporal waved him away towards the castle and told him to get some sleep for a couple of hours.


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"I want to see the books about the Chinese battle magic," asked Harry looking at Su.

Su beamed, stood up, grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the foyer, followed closely by Hermione and Luna.

Luna was not looking dreamily again since the elves came with her little dog, a white poodle with the name Marie. Marie was a character, because she only listened to Luna, but not always. She was still sniffing everywhere curiously and had a great time when she saw a house elf. She had learned that house elves only meant two things for her; or food, or having a walk outside.

Luna and Marie were following Hermione, who was following Harry and Su. Su was dragging a laughing Harry with her and they reached a large library on the ninth floor of the Gryffindor castle.

"I asked the elves to prepare a new library for you, Harry," said Su and looked around her. She was searching for the primary book; a book with the red leather bands, which contained only indexes about any subject in all the books, which were stored here in the library.

"Chinese Battle magic is often referred as Dark Magic by the western Magical world," said Su. "I am trained in battle magic, but I am not a Master in it. One of the few Masters in Chinese Battle Magic is my grandfather and four of my uncles and two aunts."

"So this is Black Magic?" asked Hermione shocked.

"Yes," answered Su.

Harry looked hesitatingly at the volumes of books in shelves in the library and sighed.

"I had hoped that I can learn this, but I see that it is dangerous," Harry said unhappily.

"There is no White and Black Magic," said Luna from behind them. Everyone turned and looked at Luna. She definitely did not look crazy or dreamily anymore, except for her dog, who was barking and jumping to be carried by Luna.

"No White and Black Magic?" asked Hermione incredulously. "I don't believe you."

Luna smiled and shook her head. "It is simply the intention of the caster, which counts. With a so called White Spell like Lumos, you can damage or hurt people as well ... it is a question of intent. Magic it self is one of the natural forces in this universe, and in the universe good and evil does not exist, it all depends on your point of view, and how you are raised and in what society you live."

Harry smirked.

"Ah, the cannibal story," he said smiling.

"Yes, Harry. You are right. When you visit a tribe of cannibals and invite them to London, he will tell his tribe members when he is back from the visit that there are unnatural people living in London," Luna said with a soft smile on her pretty face.

Hermione huffed, and Su smirked.

"Not so long time ago, it was natural that the parents slept with their children. Now it is a sin to do that, and many people are revolted by people who want to do that," continued Luna.

"It is the same with Magic. Many thousands of years ago, there were Magical beings in China, who were using Magic for many purposes. Today, many people think that certain branches of that Magic is black and dangerous. Everyone who is using that magic must be dark wizards and witches, and that means that they are evil," said Su.

"Look at Voldemort. He is using Black Magic, but does that make him evil? No, it is the intent he has. He wants to destroy, to cause pain and hardship, and he wants to bring only destruction to the world, and that makes him evil," said Luna and smiled at Su.

"But when you use Dark Magic, then you become evil," said Hermione hotly. "The evil in the spells will poison your soul. Look at the Crucio. In order to cast Crucio, your intent must be causing pain, and nothing else. Every time when use the Crucio, you will loose a piece of your soul until nothing remains and you will be the same as Voldemort."

Hermione huffed, vowed her arms before her chest and waited until somebody was commenting on her words.

Su laughed. "How correct you are, Hermione."

Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"Am I?" she asked surprised.

"Yes, you are, but the Chinese Battle magic is different in a way, that it does not contain spells, charms and other magic, which demands that you cause only pain," Su said. "These books about Chinese Battle Magic contain information about Magic, which can be used on a battlefield only," answered Su.

"Is that not the same?" asked Hermione.

"No, that is definitely not the same," said Su. "A Crucio on the battlefield is useless and unpractical."

"Why is that?" asked Hermione curious.

"When a wizard or witch uses a Crucio against another, then the caster is open for attacks when casting it. It is much better to cast a curse, and immediately be prepared to defend your self against others, instead of only wanting to inflict pain."

Hermione nodded and looked at Harry.

"Sorry Harry, but I think it is still too dark, and it might get you into problems politically when you try to learn it," said Hermione.

"Su, I have a question for you," said Luna suddenly.

"Yes, Luna?" asked Su.

"When you came, your father talked about two personal slaves, a maid and your possessions," said Luna curious. "What happened with them?"

Su smirked and looked apologizing at Harry.

"I have my possessions stored in our bedroom. My two slaves are two young women, and I hid them from Harry, because knowing him, he will make them free and marry them. I don't think that I like to see my slaves become wives of Harry and to have equal rights with me. Those slaves were a long time in my family and we invested a lot of money and effort to raise them as they are now. My servant was sent back to my parents when I saw that we had excellent house elves."

Hermione huffed. "How can you hide your slaves," she yelled. "Those slaves are also humans and they deserve to be freed if we can help it." She turned to Harry. "Order your wife to get her slaves and marry them as well," ordered Hermione.

Harry raised an eyebrow and then looked at Su.

Su waved at Hermione like she was a fly on the wall, and showed her the finger and smirked at Harry.

"When you do that, I kill my slaves before you can lay your hands on them," said Su with an even voice.

This was a standoff between Hermione, Su and Harry in the Chinese Battle Magic library and Luna was watching the show with curiosity.

Harry looked her straight in her green eyes ... green eyes were staring in green eyes, and for some moments nobody said anything, and the tension in the air intensified.

"Ahum," said Hermione, trying to break the tension.

Nothing happened and the two of them were still having their staring contest, and the tension went up several grades, and Luna was smirking now. She conjured an easy chair and sat down and watched the battle of wills.

"I'm not giving in," said Su, continued looking in his eyes. "I am much better trained then you, Harry, it is impossible to win."

Harry said nothing, he was only staring at Su and felt himself to get ready for what ever has to come, but he could not help to smirk a little.

"Why are you laughing?" asked Su irritated.

"Because I met your two slaves already," answered Harry.

"Impossible," yelled Su hotly.

Harry smirked wider now. "When you father was in the castle and talked about the wedding, he introduced them to me," he said.

"Oh yeah? Where are my slaves then?" asked Su, a little bit unsure of her self. Her father would definitely do that, but she was not sure.

"They sleep one floor down in separate bedrooms," said Harry. "Their names are Mi Lo and Hue Ching, and their families are already slave with your family for more then six hundred years."

Su was shocked. "Did you meet my slaves already?" said Su unbelievable.

"Yes, I did. Both girls are fourteen years old, and they are trained in the harem of your father. They know everything what you know, except the battle magic," answered Harry smugly.

Suddenly Su broke her gaze and sighed.

"What are you going to do with them?" she asked painfully.

"I have sent them back to your father," Harry said.

Su looked surprised at Harry. "You sent them back?"

"Yes, I thought that there was a reason why you didn't want me to see those slaves, and I suspected already something like what you said, so I took the initiative to send them back to your family, and they did not mind."

Su looked at Harry with her large green eyes and smiled hesitatingly. "I love what you have done, because if those slaves would marry you too, then I would not be able to stand that shame," Su said, grabbing Harry by his shoulders and hugged him tightly.

"When you continue like this, I'm going to love you, you know that?" she whispered in his ear, and Harry tightened the hug. Hermione smiled at the couple and looked somewhat longingly at the two.

"Why don't you marry as well when the Queen is going to organize the weddings?" asked Luna suddenly. Hermione looked up at Luna, but saw no emotion in her face.

Hermione started to smile knowingly. "You have feelings for him as well?" asked Hermione softly.

"Oh, you admit that you have feelings for him?" asked Luna, raising her eyebrow.

"Not me, but Ginny and maybe Pansy," she said. "For me, Harry is only a very good friend."

"But you love the sex with him, don't you?" asked Luna.

"And what about you, Luna ... you had sex with him too?" Hermione asked.

Luna nodded. "But that was only the bathroom, I want more."

Hermione smirked mischievously. "Maybe tonight we are going to slip in his bed, as Ginny and Pansy had done, and then we will have fun," Hermione hissed and giggled.

Luna looked at her for a moment. "And what about marrying Harry during the weddings with the Queen?"

Hermione sighed. "No, I don't think so. I want to have a wedding with my family present and preferable private, and a wedding with the Queen will be not private," Hermione said sadly. "And I don't know when Harry can make time free for our wedding. It is now thirteen days ago that Harry was taken from his room at Privet Drive and eleven days that I am with him. We still have twenty days before the months will expire to marry, so we still have time."

Luna nodded. "You are right, we still have time."

"And what about you, Luna?" asked Hermione.

"Well, if I have the wedding with the Queen, I think that she will be too shocked to attend," said Luna in her old airy self. "I mean, what do you think how the Queen will react when we all show up naked?"

"Naked?" asked Hermione unbelievingly.

"Yeah, you can say that," Luna smiled with a far away look. "I always wanted to have a Drude wedding, and a Drude wedding means no clothing. Everything will go in a natural way. The part of the marriage duty of Harry will be very natural and full in public," she said.

Hermione's eyebrows shot up. "What do you say?" she asked incredulously.

"You heard it," smirked Luna. "Do you think that the Queen likes to witness such wedding?"

Hermione shook her head negatively and smiled. "No, I think that she will be shocked." Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment and then a mischievous smile appeared on her face. "Maybe you must talk with Zara ... she might be interested in such wedding."

Luna laughed. "I think that the Queen will never forgive me when I do that."

"You can say that at least," laughed Hermione.

"What are you talking about?" asked Harry, who joined the two girls.

"Weddings, Harry," answered Luna without blinking an eye.

"Weddings?" asked Harry a bit nervous.

"Yep, Luna wants to have a Drude wedding, where everyone is naked and you must fulfill your marriage duties right after the ceremony in public," said Hermione.

Harry looked flabbergasted at Hermione.

"Oh, before I forget, Luna wants to talk with Zara and see if she wants the same," continued Hermione like she was having a conversation about the weather. "When she agrees, then you have something to do in front of the Queen and her entourage."

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Major Poster was looking pleased. He knew that private Wellow was having problems because of the death of his parents, and that the man had a hard time coping with it, but he did expect that private Wellow would be so relaxed after his trip in a bar. He wondered what really happened, but he shook his shoulders. It doesn't matter so much, because private Wellow was back to his normal functioning, and that was enough for him.

Private Neilson Wellow was marching from his unit commander with a smile on his face. He looked determined to do his duty for his country and he knew that he could accomplish anything what was possible to do.

He never felt so determined in his life before; his resolve was only becoming stronger after he talked with his unit commander. Strange ... because his commander did not give him anything particular ... he only included him into full service again.

Neilson Wellow was a little worried ... he still did not understand why he was so determined, he did not see any real reason why he was so changed ... be he shook it off quickly, because why should he look into the mouth of a given horse? He smirked. He wished that he could visit some nice ladies of pleasure and have a good time with them, but he knew that he needed to wait before his salary was coming in at the end of the month. Then maybe he could go to London and have a nice time with his two friends.

Neilson Wellow marched into his personal quarters. Here in the castle were no barracks, only rooms and suites. Such a waste of good space, because they could house here at least five hundred privates in the space they occupied with the five of them. Now everyone had a room and a four poster bed, instead of a normal bed, a huge bathroom instead of showers, which are being shared with the rest of the guys of the unit.

He continued to march to his room and closed the door behind him. He walked towards his trunk and opened it and looked for a large bag. He needed that bag, but for what, he did not know. He frowned. Neilson Wellow started to think that he was not well, maybe the stress, and why was he having such strange thoughts? Why did he need a bag? Neilson stood up, and undid his shirt, pulled up his white t-shirt and took out three small brownish paper bags. He frowned at the bags. How in hell did he have those bags and where did those come from?

Neilson Wellow was worried. How was it possible that he did not recognize where those paper bags came from? Neilson looked more closely at the bags and frowned again. He took the first paper bag and opened it ... he instantly recognized the contents, those were explosive bullets!

He frowned again; he could only stare at the paper bag. Those bullets were highly illegal, because when you shoot with those bullets, the victim is not alive anymore, it would explode immediately and never survive the impact of such bullets.

And Private Neilson Wellow knew that those bullets were extremely expensive, and wondered how it was possible that he had those bullets. The content was a fortune, and when he would sell those in the black market, he would be able to sell those for at a handsome price ... at least twenty thousand.

Private took his SIG P226, ejected the Cartridge filled with .386 SIG-XP phosphor coated bullets. He knew that the phosphor coated bullets were very effective against wizards and witches, who had magical shields erected. When they would be hit with one of those loving bullets, the shield would act like a grenade, but instead of exploding, it would implode, and that would be enough to kill the wizard or witch instantly.

When the wizard or witch would not have a shield erected, and was hit by one of those bullets, the phosphor coated bullets would be enough to take him or her out instantly ... the phosphor in the bullet, together with an unknown chemical component was enough to cause a lot of damage.

Private Neilson Wellow knew that those bullets were also very effective against other magical creatures. When such magical creature was hit by a burst of those bullets, they would go down for sure, or simply explode on impact, with a loud boom, and he grinned.

Then he looked at his new bullets, and he grimaced. He had no idea how he knew, but the new bullets were even more effective against magical beings. Well, against any being, he thought. When you shoot one of those bullets after you marked the person, it was impossible to escape, because the bullet was like a small rocket. The bullet acted like a FIM-92 Stinger, except that it was much smaller, more expensive and much more deadly against personnel.

He took his cartridge, and removed the current bullets, and replaced them with the new bullets. He searched in his pockets and took the rest of his cartridges and loaded those with his new bullets ass well. Why he was loading his cartridges with the new bullets he did not know, but he felt very satisfied doing this. Maybe he was becoming crazy, he thought. Why would loading his cartridges with new and expensive bullets make him happy?

And why ... all his cartridges were full with his new bullets and placed them back in his pockets and holders. He took his SIG P226 and removed the safety and he grinned. He felt so powerful, he could own the world. He was the only one in this castle who had real power, and the rest was bullshit. They would be wiped out fast enough, and now he was grinning.

In the back of his head he was very worried, because he recognized madness as he saw it happening with him, but those thoughts were immediately suppressed. He had his new resolve and he had a mission to complete, and that would give him more happiness and a feeling that he was very close to his mother ... yeah ... even his father. He had the feeling that his father would be very proud of him ... oh when his father would be alive, and then he could show him how good and professional he was, and how much he loved his father and mother and his country. He could die for them, defending his honor against any enemy.

He stood up from his bed and placed the SIG P226 back into its holder. He had a mission to complete, and he marched to the door. He frowned ... his did not remember the details and what he supposed to do for this mission, but he continued to walk. He turned the corridor where his commander was sitting behind his desk.

"I'm having a stroll, Major," he said easily.

"Back before eleven, private Wellow," the Major answered easily, and he smiled at Neilson.

Neilson nodded and smiled faintly back, and continued to walk. When he reached the entrance hall, he turned right instead of left. He walked into a large hall, where those wizard and his bitches had married each other according the stories, and he shrugged his shoulders. Who's giving a shit what those people were doing with each other, as long as they would not fuck with him, he was already happy. His motto was live and let live, and he smirked. That as something he could help with, except the opposite.

Private Neilson Wellow started to climb the many steps to go upstairs and he knew that he needed to go to the foyer in front of the bedroom of that Lord-Baron, and then he could do his duty ... what ever his duty was. He still did not know what is mission actually contained, but what could he do else? He knew that his mission was crucial for god and the country, and he knew that his mission was the most important mission all times, and he smiled proudly. That would make his people proud of him, he if managed to accomplish the impossible.


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A/N: Editor for this chapter is Dave