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If you know the themes, settings or characters from somewhere else, it's probably not mine. Does the initials JKR mean anything to you? If not, do read the real books before wasting your time with this.







Are Very Good Indeed


Previously...

'His little Bella' indeed. He would regret that with his very last breath. He would regret that the month before she allowed his last breath, too. She would torture him, maim him and rape him again and again for weeks, months, years. She would only let him rest once, when he taught her that curse he used on her. She dreamt of it, of the unearthly pleasure that tore through her defences and rendered her a weak, pathetic little girl, yearning for a caress instead of the strong woman she knew herself to be. Today, the bastard would feel the fall of his liege, and tonight, the pathetic weasel boy would have his dream come true. Damn, she was horny. She would spill blood today. Lots of blood. She would bathe in it, and wash this weakness away. Blood was always good. The pain she pulled out of her victims would once again heal her and make her anew. It always had.
'His little Bella'. How could he know her? He had to be lying. Why did he say it? Who was he, and what had he done to her? She couldn't stop thinking about him, about his power and his staff, the powerful staff, how she would love to have that staff between her legs and ride it like a broomstick, all those carvings and bumps....

Bellatrix LeStrange was fingering herself again, unaware that her quim was already red and raw from the previous times. She was sitting on the edge of her cot, uncaring of the muggle boy's corpse that laid behind her. He hadn't satisfied her enough. It hadn't been good enough. She had only had a few minutes relief, but now the fires were burning again. Her fingers yanked and pulled and rubbed the already raw pussy, and in places, the blood was almost breaking through the abused skin...

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Harry jerked upright, involuntarily shoving his still engorged meat down Ginny's throat, making her cum and choke at the same time before she landed on her lovely derrière.

“Gabrielle? Get her back here. She's pregnant, damn it!”

“She knows, Master. She won't jeopardise your son like that. She's hovering at two thousand feet, keeping watch. Trust me, as Guinevere, she can avoid any curse at that distance. Now lead, for Freja's sake.”

Harry made an effort to draw his wits about him. Intel first, then solve deployment. The arches would eliminate the logistic problems, and he had almost forty Einharjers at his disposal.

“Intel first, then. How many are we up against, and how long can the place hold?”

Björn cleared his throat.

“Apparently the wards will hold for about thirty minutes more, so let's say ten. There are about fifteen human assailants, showing no great skill. You would have wiped the floor with them before we met, but they're pounding away at the Wards. They are under the command of the woman you met the other day, according to your Lake Warden Consort. The problem is three giants and about twenty Dementors. There may be more in reserve.”

“Of course. Are the Einharjers trained to use the Patronus charm?”

“Some know it, some don't. We exterminated our Dementors a long time ago, and Lethifolds don't survive long.”

“All right. Disa, you and the Einharjers will hold in the Arch chamber. Jorunn is with me, and we will approach the mansion under heavy shields and loads of noise. Disa, you will direct the Arch, bringing my reinforcements in when I call you. Remus, Leif and Surt should come with me too.”

As Harry spoke, he summoned his armour and his battle hammer. As he donned it, and flexed his muscles, Tonks made a little wave with her wand, and the kneeling Redhead could suddenly see clearly. She saw the back of a powerful, muscular wizard dressed in Dragonhide, and wielding a massive hammer like it was nothing. She could see the muscles move under the tight leather, and she couldn't help but moan quietly. He obviously heard her, and turned to face her fully. He strode up to her, and pulled her to her feet. He leant forward and whispered in her ear.

“Ginevra, I'm sorry we were interrupted. You have given me a great gift today, and I fully intend to reciprocate. Your own birthday is just a few days off, isn't it? ”

He turned around and strode out of the room. Disa lingered for a second, looking at the petite witch with amusement.

“Make sure you're well rested. I know that gleam in his eyes.” With that, she left.

She joined the others in the Arch chamber. Harry was just hammering out the deployments.

“Disa, You hold here with the Einharjers. Remus, Surt, Leif and Jorunn, you're with me. Professor McGonagall, you come through with the Einharjers, and I want you to make walls and covers if necessary. Is there anything else?”

Sigyn stepped up.

“Hasse, I invited two people who might be useful to you. You can do introductions later. Harald Fafnersson, meet two of your mothers-in-law, Gunlög and Saga. I'm sorry to spring this on you like this, but they're powerful and quite dangerous.”

Harry could see the Einharjers shrink back a bit when the air in a corner shimmered, revealing two beautiful women, one shining blonde, and the other one with midnight black hair, and both of them had the feral traits and the yellow eyes of their daughters. The blonde, who he guessed was Saga, spoke.

“Harald Fafnersson, we would love to help you, and by order of Freja, we are sworn to your service. That's why we're here. This may be a bit abrupt, but we're not quite at full strength, so if you could feed us a bit..?”

He simply raised his hands, and launched a net of blue lightning over the two feral Huldr, and he could see the difference between the feral and his more civilised Huldr. Saga and Gunlög simply absorbed the power without flinching, but with shining eyes. He didn't let the flow drop until they both had nodded at him, and they quickly took up flanking positions. As he had fed the women, Susan had come in running, and handed Jorunn the battle banner, which she proudly unrolled.

“Well then,” He said. “This is where I'm supposed to hold a speech, but I won't. Let's kick ass, and show the magical world just how bad the idea was to attack my friends. Let's go!”

He changed his appearance to his Caradoc persona as he turned, and the first group walked through the Arch, to appear half a mile from the manor house and behind the enemy. As they marched towards the battle, Harry constructed a large, barely visible shield around them, and the Death Eaters stopped the assault as the group came into view.

Harry was the obvious centrepiece, in his black armour and a visible aura of bluish light. Right behind him was Jorunn, carrying the banner, and at Harry's sides were the feral Huldr, radiating sex and violence. Both were slightly crouched, their eyes shone and their vicious claws were fully extended. Next to the Huldr were their one-time husbands. Surt was whirling his heavy battle hammer around, and the air above him shimmered of the heat he radiated, just like the ground trembled at Leif's steps. Harry had never really understood what the Earthway Leif possessed was about, but now he began to understand. Remus was following Jorunn as a guard, and the group fanned out a bit as they approached. Suddenly, Harry stopped, and the others followed suit.

“Leave and live. You are attacking a Liege of Kilchurn. If you stay, you will die.”

A curse flew at him. He recognised it as a body bind, but the weakness of the curse was less important than the message. He expanded his magic over the area, allowing neither portkeys or apparition attempts to leave the field.

“So be it. Kill them all, but Bellatrix is mine.”

They were less that fifty yards from the nearest Death Eaters, and the two Huldr women crossed the distance in no time at all.
Their unfortunate targets barely had time to get a single curse off, but they did. The feral ladies swiftly dodged and jumped respectively, and the two men, anonymized in their masks, were mauled to death within a second, even if it took a few minutes for them to actually die. Harry noted absently that he didn't feel very ill at the sight of the eviscerated men, but brandished his Stormbringer at a known target.
Marcus Flint had never been accused of having a good head on his shoulders, but when the blasting curse built into the hammer connected with his sloping forehead, he didn't even have a bad one.

Jorunn had planted the banner on the front lawn, and the werewolf was firing off his Patronus, trying to contain the Dementors that were trying to come closer.

The giants were still staring dumbly, until Leif took them on, shouting loudly at his cousins, twice as large as himself. Harry couldn't follow the events as he was attacked by Bellatrix. Her initial attack, a concussion curse, was easily deflected, and she didn't get more than one curse off.

He knew exactly what to do. He dropped the hammer and drew Fang in it's wand shape. Using it as a lightning rod, he hit her with his lightning again, and again, and again. She was spent, worn out on the ground in less than ten seconds.
He quickly stunned and petrified her, then he shrank her down and put her in his pocket. He had use of her.
The chill of the Dementors was getting more pronounced, and he turned around in time to see his old teacher's Patronus fail. He quickly summoned a happy memory that was less than twenty minutes old, and cast his stag against the disgusting wraiths. On an impulse, he cast a second time, and he wasn't really surprised when a huge Norse Dragon emerged.

The enormous serpent circled the oncoming dementors, as Prongs launched at them. As they couldn't seem to escape, the attacks and the warm glow from the serpent made the terrifying entities fade, until they were little more than shadows. After a few more seconds, the cloaks they had been wearing fell to the ground, and the chill was gone.
He quickly ensured that Remus and Jorunn was all right, and then he looked for Surt.
He found the smith among several charred corpses, duelling with a pretty good fighter. The Death Eater used spells that Harry had never seen before.
Surt seemed to be holding his own, but Harry had a little time on his hands. He struck out with his voice, and Vanished the man's skeleton.
The sack of skin and crushed internal organs that had been Rastaban Lestrange sank to the ground with a hideous twitching motion, as his muscles tried to move without having any skeleton to work on. The wheezing sound as the pile tried to breathe was disquieting, so Harry left.

He noticed a black-robed coward trying to play dead, so he tapped the man's hip with his hammer, making the man's pelvis shatter before he joined up with the Huldr. They had blood up to their elbows, and their mouths were covered as well.

“Is it always like this?” Gunlög asked in Norse. She was smiling in a both beautiful and terrifying way.

“I don't really know, but I shouldn't think so. I've always been scared before. Excuse me.”

He reached around the beautiful woman and blew a hole through some Death Eater's chest with a Reducto.

“Freja wanted us to tell you that the necklaces she gave you makes the wearer immune to the bad side of your lightning. What's the bad side?” Saga asked as she somersaulted over the head of an attacker and ripping his throat out from behind.

Harry looked around, but saw nothing of interest at the time.

“It's addictive. Apparently, if I hit a human a few times, nothing else will do after that. It's only me. So far, I've only made two women addicted, of which one was on purpose, and that's the bitch who lead this attack. You're stronger, and won't be affected.”

~Harry. Behind you!

Gabrielle's mental warning was a little bit too late. The blasting curse grazed his ear, and the pain made him lose control for a moment.

Disa had of course sensed the event, and decided to lead the reserves through. As they left the Arch, they faced a horrible scene.

The fight was over.

People reduced to bubbling puddles won't fight very well, and the Einharjers decided to add something to their battle guidelines. Something like, ' If there's an angry Leharv on the battlefield; be somewhere else.'

The Leharv was hovering above the battlefield, screaming his defiance, before touching down and resuming his human form, then morphing back to Caradoc.

“Some got away,” He reported. “When I transformed, I lost control of the transport blocking field and they apparated away. They got most of the wounded too, so these melted chaps were mostly dead already.”

Leif was standing on top of a pillar of soil that he apparently had risen out of the ground. He was still talking to the three giants, using simple words and lots of gestures. It didn't look threatening at all.

If the sound “pop” can sound hesitant, that would describe the Auror's approach perfectly. They apparated in tight huddling groups, and almost came apart when faced with the Einharjers. He smiled beatifically at the Aurors and said gently but decisively.

“Report, please.”

He recognised Kingsley Shacklebolt in the first group of the three that arrived. As he nodded at the tall black Auror, the man spoke up.

“Lord Kilchurn, we were alerted to an attack on your liege a few minutes ago, and came as soon as possible. Apparently, we arrived late for the party.”

“Just a bit, Auror Shacklebolt, just a bit. When someone attacks my friends I tend to get upset. For reporting purposes, I brought along a few friends as an advance party, but there wasn't much for the main force to do when we got done. We might have killed ten or so...”

“Hem hem, what is the meaning of this? Aurors, why haven't you detained or executed these beasts? A werewolf, two vampires and a giant. With these sub-humans present, the case is clear, isn't it?. It is obvious who attacked this...”

The toad-like woman didn't get any further before Harry decided to forgo magic and simply backhanded the repulsive witch. She spun as she hit the ground with a muddy splash.

“Dolores Umbridge. I should have expected you. The fact that no one has found a cure for your existence saddens me. Well well, let's see to that, then.” He paused to think, and was readily assisted by a powerful, liquid intellect. He didn't reveal that he noticed the arrival of the press, represented by the inevitable Rita Skeeter.

“Madam Umbridge, you have the Minister's confidence still, even after last years complete and utter fiasco. You used a blood quill on several students, and tried to cast the Cruciatus on my charge. This annoys me. You just accused me of attacking my own liege. That's a mortal insult, and I can defend a Vendetta on that alone, but you also insulted one of my Consorts, her parents, the parents of another of my Consorts and a good friend of the Kilchurn family. That is pretty much a declaration of war between us, Madam Umbridge. Between the Ministry you represent and the House of Kilchurn. Was that your intention?”

The unpleasant woman was sputtering and rubbing her jaw, so Skeeter took her chance.

“Lord Kilchurn, could you please introduce our readers to your family here? As much as I regret it, my knowledge of the other sentient species is sketchy at best.”

Harry smiled inwardly. Rita Skeeter was polite. That was almost unheard of. It would be interesting to see what she would make of this.

“I would love to, but I'm a bit preoccupied at the moment. Safe to say is that I'm familiar with the British attitude on other sentients, and I realise that the guidelines won't change as long as Cornelius is minister. That's why I will defend my chosen Lieges, but no one else. If I did, it would mean that I effectively allied myself fully with the ministry, and that I supported the British views, and I find these views repulsive. Remus Lupin over there is a good man, with a great ability to teach. As he was once bitten, through no fault of his own, your society has turned it's collective back on him. He's a resource that the ministry has decided to ignore. He was able to detain several Dementors until they could be permanently dealt with. The house of Kilchurn is deeply magical, but there's a great deal of non human sentients in it. If the ministry tries to enforce stupidities like the Veela laws on my House, there will be a war between the Ministry and myself. As long as Fudge is minister, don't count on me to help you.”

“My Lord, Professor Lupin was a good friend of young Mr Potter. Is it true that Mr Potter has survived, and is right now at Kilchurn Castle?”

“I have no intention to discuss these rumours. However, as Lord Longbottom put it, pretty much everything is more believable than Harry Potter dying that easily.”

“Lord Kilchurn, could you please comment on the events here today?”

“Briefly, yes. I received word that my Liege was under attack. I responded according to the terms I gave the Death Eaters not fully two days ago. These people were my hated enemies, but it seems like I severely overestimated the opposition. Three Huldr, a werewolf, a giant, a squib and myself were more than equal to the task on our own. The inclusion of Hank, my Dragon friend, was unintentional but efficient. When I get hit, he gets cranky, and when he gets cranky, it usually leads to acid and destruction. The trained fighting units did arrive on schedule, but there were no enemies left at the time. Now, Miss Skeeter, I have many demands on my time, but I'm sure my daughter would be agreeable to an interview later if you are interested.”

“Very much so, My Lord. One final question, if you please. You oppose Minister Fudge. Who would you see replace him?”

“I know very little about the inner workings of the Ministry. The one that comes to mind would be Madam Bones, who is one of my allies. I say that, because she would go against my expressed wishes without batting an eye if it was the right thing to do. She's just and fearless and I believe she would do quite well.”

“Thank you, Lord Kilchurn. If your daughter would be kind enough to owl me with a time and a place that suits her, I will make myself available. Good day, My lord.”

Trailing her photographer, she actually apparated away. Harry looked at the muddy form of the former High Inquisitor of Hogwarts.

“Madam Umbridge. You are not my friend, but not yet my enemy. Do you have any valid, legal concerns regarding my defense of my liegeman's home?”

Dolores Umbridge wasn't completely stupid, and she realised that she was very close to an uncomfortably acidic death. She thought of the issues that could legally be raised against the Lord.

“Did the Huldr feed of any of the opposition?”

“No. The Huldr feeds on vitality, and the enemies were all Stalebloods. There's nothing to feed from.”

“Excuse me?”

“The pureblood families lose vitality fairly fast. They don't have the strength to survive long enough to give a feral Huldr even a light snack. My ladies feed from me, period.”

“Did you give the Squib the magical weapons?”

“No. He's a skilled craftsman, and he has even taught me how to make those hammers. He made his own, of course.”

“These are all foreigners, right?”

“Some of them, yes. The important point is that they are all allies of the House of Kilchurn, and will of course answer my call to arms. Borders means very little compared to loyalty.”

“Thank you, My Lord. That concludes my questions.” She apparated away almost before she finished speaking. Harry smiled at the Aurors, who were sniggering at the pompous bureaucrat as she fled the battlefield.

“Aurors, I hope that some day soon, you will be able to call on the Kilchurn Forces if the situation gets sticky. For now though, you may well be ordered to attack my home.”

Harry concentrated, and forced his magic to manifest in the air around him. The air glowed and writhed in the intense magic field, and the staff that appeared in his hand shone blue. He knew that his eyes glowed as he spoke again.

“It may be wise to refuse such an order. I have yet to exert myself today.”

He relaxed and allowed the magic flare to die down.

“I was of course not threatening you. I just gave you a pensieve-worthy memory to explain your refusal. A piece of showmanship, if you will. Now, Is there anything I can help you with?”

Kingsley found himself elected as spokesperson, so he asked the question that everybody wanted to.

“My Lord, we would all like a straight answer to whether Harry Potter is still alive, and if so, where he is.”

Harry smiled at the Auror.

“That's something I won't give at this moment. Take that answer as you wish.”

The tall Auror looked at the Sorcerer, and then at the battle banner. As he recognised the Potter crest, he smiled and nodded.

“I hear you, Sir. As there may be some difficulties identifying these remains, could you tell me who they were?”

Harry looked around at the smoking, half-melted remains that littered the area and started pointing out the people he remembered.

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Ginny's head was spinning. She had seen him, but it had been so surreal that she would be able to convince herself that it was a dream without any problems. She had seen him, and now she knew that he was indeed alive. She could still taste him. She had had Harry's cock in her mouth, that big, big cock. At first, she had been convinced that he had done some kind of engorgement charm, but she should have felt it, if there was one. It must have been natural. She would never be able to handle that! Not that it would stop her from trying, though. He had looked so hot. All those muscles, and the leather outfit and the power he emitted was everything she could ever desire.

As soon as Harry, the blonde bombshell and the squat warrior had left, she had crawled back into her box to think. He had promised to reciprocate. If the word meant what she thought it did, he would return the favour some day. Maybe even on her birthday! Harry Potter was going to give her an orgasm, he even owed her one! As a sniggering Tonks put the lid back on and pulled the box back to the Arch chamber, Ginny was dreaming about the day when Harry would get her off.


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It was late, and Harry was sitting in the Klub. He was nursing a tankard of half mead, half butterbeer. It didn't taste half as good as he had thought it would, but on the upside, it was easy to make it last. He couldn't afford to get even slightly tipsy tonight. He didn't even look around when he heard the door open, and his expected guest pour himself a large whisky, down it and refill his glass. He didn't even look up until the creaking leather told him that the chair next to him was occupied. He took a sip of the unholy blend in his tankard.

“Do you blame me?” He asked quietly.

“I don't know. I wanted it, but I'm not sure I wanted to learn what it would take. I did it, though.”

“I know. How did Susan take it?”

“Better than me, I guess.. She told me that it would take her a day or two to sort it out, but that it shouldn't be a problem. She seemed to expect it, but it shocked the hell out of me to know that I had it in me.”

“The Darkness? We all have it, Nev. We just have to learn about it, and to know it for what it is.”

“What do you mean?”

“It's an impulse. Nothing more. It can't get the upper hand unless we let it. Stina and Sigyn agreed that you had a mighty Dark tie to that woman. Now, you don't. You gave it back to her.”

“That way, it doesn't sound so bad. It's just hard, you know. She begged me for it, and I tortured her to death, in the most horrible way I can imagine. She knew, she must have known that I was killing her, but she wanted more. It was the most insane thing I've seen.” He drained his glass again and filled it up.

“She was already insane, and I don't think I helped her by zapping her as I did. That begging thing is probably my fault.”

“Harry, you don't have to take the fall for me. I did it, and I hated her as I did it. Susan asked me about that, and it seemed important. She didn't attract me at all, but I did it. I was ready, and I used my body as a weapon.”

“Sigyn said that it's something quite common in young men with a lacking confidence. You have any idea how many guys who wants a bigger one? The dream of using your cock as a weapon is a primitive and basic one, and normally not one we allow out to play. Thanks to Stina, you got to let it out. Want to do it again?”

Neville almost jumped out of the chair. He emptied yet another glass into the black hole he felt inside him before he answered as Harry filled his glass again.

“Hell no. I'm not that impressive in my natural state, but Susan's happy, and that's enough for me. You know, I felt none of the things I feel with Susan this time?”

“Of course not. You love Susan, and you hated Le Strange. My hands can caress my ladies, or they can rip the heart out of someone. The girls are also quite happy about some of the things I can do with my mouth, but when I transform, it belches acid. It's all in the intent. The tool shouldn't be accused for what the wielder wants to do, and that's what counts. What did you want to do?”

“Punish. Get revenge. To make her suffer like I have suffered. To close the book, so to speak. To heal.”

“I know you've had some rough moments with girls. Disa and Stina told me about your 'training'”

“I know. I think that's gone now. That ghost from my past is dead. She's lying in a pool of her own blood, all bled out and no visible wounds. I don't even know if she suffered at all, the way she kept urging me on. Am I a monster now?”

“You're asking the wrong guy. I have no idea about how many people I've killed today, and I just found out that I'm part vampire. I gave her to you, knowing full well what you might do. If you want to blame me, I'll make it easy on you.”

“It was my call. I could have slapped her and let her go. I could have AK'd her or simply used a severing charm on her neck. My call was to fuck her to death with a cock, morphed to be almost a foot-and-a-half long. What do I do now?”

“Now? You do the Male Psychology basic treatment. Get roaring drunk, spend tomorrow on full-scale suicide watch and have a talk with Sigyn, who's better with these things. You know, I almost did that to her once. She, if anyone will understand it completely.”

“She's great, you know? Sigyn. She's very wise, and hot, too. When did you do that to her?”

“First time we met. I wasn't used to my size yet, and I hadn't learned to morph. I was also stoned out of my gourd, whatever that means. She got carried away.”

“You know, you know, it's great, you know. Just knowing you, my best mate and the girls. They're not my Sue, but they're smoking hot all of them, and they don't always dress around me. You're my best mate, best I ever had. I haven't had a lot of mates, you know.”

“I know, Nev. Trust me, I know. We're family now. You think I would let just anyone in bed with my Bonded Consort? You've done so much for me, I owe you loads.”

“I'll get through this, Harry. She's dead. I didn't enjoy it, but I did it. She had it coming to her, but I did it. I don't really feel like some blooding...bloody heroic kind of guy like I thought I would. I'm drunk.”

“You are, Nev. You're fairly cheap, too. Lucky bastard. I get a bit tipsy, but then my magic starts to counteract the booze.”

“....”

“Nev?”

Harry smiled. His friend had no head for alcohol, especially not in muggle drinks. Of course, he had just had more than half a pint of cask-strength whisky, but now he was soundly and noisily asleep. Tomorrow would be angsty like hell, but by the end of the week, all his demons would be exorcised.

He levitated the snoring young man to his room, where a red-eyed Susan waited for him.

“Hi Sue. How are you holding up?”

“Fairly well. She didn't suffer enough, though. How is he?”

“Conflicted. I don't think he regrets the fact, just the method. You may have something to deal with there.”

“She tainted him for life when he was just a baby. He stole his purity back from him. I'll convince him.”

“Better you than me. Were you ever afraid of him?”

“No, never. He's my Neville, by both our choices. He dealt with a monster, and he had to become one to defeat her completely. The act was hideous, I may be weirder than most, but his power turned me on more than a little. Not the power itself, but his control. He had all of that inside him, and I still know he wouldn't ever hurt me. Ever.”

“Good. I'm still not sure I did the right thing about all this.”

“You did, Harry. Now, though, you have a very worried Veela wife waiting, and I'm not saying that ten times fast, in your bed. Go and let her know that you still love her, even though you got upset over the risk she took.”

“I'll do that. Take care of my liegeman, dear liegewoman, and your offer of Jus Primae Noctis is declined, by the way. I have enough as it is. I need to meet with Saga and Gunlög before bed, though.”

“Just don't forget the willing little pregnant babe in your bed, Mighty Sorcerer.”

“You think I would? Good night, Sue.”

“Good night, My Lord.”

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The greatest Wizard since.
by
Rita Skeeter

Dear readers, whatever you may have heard about the great Caradoc Pritchard, the reality is far more impressive.
I met him on a field of carnage, a battlefield like nothing I have seen in my many years of faithful reporting of truths.


Below me, on what used to be a perfectly manicured lawn courtesy of Lord Longbottom, his generation's finest gardener, were three women of unearthly, inhuman beauty walking around and healing the turf with a touch here and there, while proudly displaying their beautiful fluffy tails to the world.
Yes, ladies and gentlemen. Smiling, laughing Huldr were there, and I still felt safe, because next to me was a Titan.

On a distance I saw a half giant, standing on a pillar of soil, shot up from the earth itself, laughing and talking with the Giants that the Dark Lord had brought to attack the liegesman of Kilchurn, Lord Longbottom. The half giant wore the Kilchurn crest.

On the killing field, well known and respected Werewolf Professor Remus Lupin were making lists of the fallen.
The situation was well in hand. The others present were a force of at least fifty armed warriors in Kilchurn colours, and a small contingent of Aurors.
As I watched, Ministry spokesperson and personal assistant to the Minister, Dolores Umbridge of High Inquisitor fame, appeared. After spotting the non-humans on the field, she quickly blamed everything on them, and demanded that the Auror's should execute them all immediately.

Caradoc Pritchard struck her down with the back of his hand.

Politely, and without ever raising his voice, he asked her if she intended for the Ministry and the House of Kilchurn to go to war, as she so deliberately accused him of attacking his own liegesman, and further, insulted the Lord's own family.

Dear readers, he was deadly serious.
There is no doubt in my mind that he'd win as well. As he went on to explain, his family is highly and mightily magical, but it does have a large number of sentient non-human's in it, and this, dear readers is the reason why Caradoc Pritchard will only help his lieges and allies.
The current and previous administration has made this country the hardest to live in for non-humans in the world.
We are denied the protection of this Titan by a few bigots in office. Ladies and gentlemen, I have sometimes allowed this bigotry to affect my own impartial, fact-finding work, but never more. These non-humans have proved themselves to be reliable and trustworthy to Caradoc Pritchard, and that is good enough for me.
Unfortunately, The house of Kilchurn will never really be a part of our society as long as Fudge occupies the prettiest chair of our government. Who can do anything about that?

However, my dear readers, my friends, Kilchurn Castle remains to us a beacon of light in this dark time, where we are threatened not only by the Death Eaters, but by the incompetence of our elected leaders. It remains, hopefully, a lightning rod to the Dark Lord's wrath, and that wrath will grind itself to dust before the mighty walls of the Castle.

Dear readers, you all know I'm not one to spread baseless rumours, but there was a feeling, when I looked into those ageless eyes of this incredible wizard.
Where did he come from?
What if he just came back?
Could he really be the greatest wizard since ... himself?

Rita Skeeter

The battle, blow by blow. Page 5-12

The Death Eaters who threaten us no more, Page 13-15

Caradoc Pritchard, the man, the myth, the incredible Hunk, page 16


Rita Skeeter looked down on the page. She hadn't just given him good press. She had practically called him Merlin. Perhaps it was time to put the bitching aside, and actually try to affect public opinion for a greater good that just for amusement, and to further her own career. She had found that, to her surprise, she really did believe in what she had written, except possibly the last part. She remembered where she had seen that particular way of setting a jaw in determination before. Now, all she had to do was figure out what the link was between Potter and Pritchard. Father and son? Ancestor and descendant? Friends? It would all be clearer once she had that interview with Elaine Pritchard.
She looked at the time, and decided once more to sleep at the office couch. She did have some thinking to do.


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There were so many little things to deal with sometimes. After making sure that the feral Huldr had someplace comfortable to stay, making sure that his other houseguests were taken care of and triple checking on Neville and Susan, Harry was almost dead on his feet. He closed the bedroom door behind him, and looked fondly at his young wife, who had taken obvious pains to look as adorable as possible in a barely existing nightie and a few touches of discreet makeup.

“Master?”

“Wife?”

“Oh, I'm so sorry about running off like that. I just didn't think about...”

He actually waved her off, as he sat on the bed and started tugging at his socks.

“Hush, love. We are here, and the time is now. What happened did happen, but it's not happening any more. It's over, and you were safer than I thought at first.”

He pulled his pants off in the most anti-erotic way he could. He pulled the covers down a bit, and started to unlace his vest.

“It's just that ... you were so angry, when you learned of my actions. I just want to be useful.”

“ Oh, come on. My young, pregnant wife was heading for a battle with the greatest arseholes in the world before I even knew there was a problem. That's a mighty reason for a knee-jerk reaction, don't you think? Besides, if you hadn't warned me, that blasting curse would have smacked straight into the back of my head. I should have defences against that, but it's nothing I really want to test.”

Throwing the vest over the back of a chair, he unbuttoned his linen shirt. He noticed, of course, the cloud of Allure that surrounded him, and it fascinated him how it made her eyes shinier, her hair to seem longer and thicker, and how it made those perfect nipples stand out even though he blocked the mental effects. He wondered briefly if it was some kind of Glamour before bending his power to a total bodywide freshening. Showers were nice and all, but he was too worn out.

“So I wasn't so bad?” She pressed on, trying very hard at some kind of Naughty Schoolgirl routine.

“Not bad at all, actually.”

The beautiful girl pouted cutely.

“Bugger. I had this whole 'begging for forgiveness' play planned out. Now, I have to find some other way to misbehave.”

Harry smiled inwardly. Sometimes, his Veela wife was a bit predictable. Well, he wasn't going to be too easy this time. He was incredibly tired, but he guessed he did have the power for at least a blue bolt or two. She would have to work for it a bit, though.

“Oh, you know I'm not the punishing type. I went completely overboard with Stina that one time, and I won't do that again. You're safe, love.”

“But you were angry! I have to make it up to you.” She sauntered towards him as he crept up into the huge bed.

“Yes, I got a bit angry for a while, and that was wrong. Now love, let's go to bed. I'm really tired.”

“But, I've ...”

“Oh, Goddess, I'm tired. The Tails are catching up with their mums, or whatever you should call it, and Stina had something to ponder in the lake. Me, I just think she likes to expand without anyone calling her fat. I mean, she's the Loch, right? That puts her bodyweight at about a fnuzillion tons, and she ...”

“Harry!”

“Yes, Love?”

“Aren't you going to punish me?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Then what the hell are you waiting for? You have a Veela in a thin nightie here, almost begging you to tie her up and punish her, for Merlin's sake.”

“Do I usually do this, or do I just do what you want me to?”

“You ... I ... Ooh, Harry, you're just mean sometimes, you know that?”

“I love you too, dear. Let's go to sleep.”

As the little Veela cuddled up to her husband, he did release a mild arc into her nervous system, making her purr in contentment where she laid on his arm

“Good night, My husband.”



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Severus Snape wasn't lying in bed. He was hovering above it, suspended a few inches over the mattress as the tiny little fragments of his pelvis knotted themselves together. The process was close to the Cruciatus curse, painwise, but at least he knew that it was good for him. What was more annoying was that he was out of the lithium grease.

He had thought that he had gotten away unscathed when he dropped and played dead, but that thrice-damned monstrosity of an illusionist had spotted him and launched a sneaky, underhanded attack, involving at least ten bone-shattering curses. The hammer had to have been a ruse. After all, he was Severus Snape. No one man could defeat him, save the Dark Lord.

He brushed his blonde bangs out of his face and stared at the ceiling.

Unfortunately, he might soon have to prove it. Recruitments were down to zero after the confrontation with Bella in Diagon Alley. Much of the old Inner Circle was gone and much of the political support had dwindled because of this one man, who hadn't really done anything. He had walked through the alley twice, he had made friends with that Longbottom squib and probably gotten some kind of hold on Bones, as well. He needed a weapon against the bastard at Kilchurn. Maybe it was time to stop dose Dumbledore with the Aevum Leviculus potion, and just keep the Ostendo Fides going. He never thought he would hate any one like the misters Potter, but this Pritchard figure came too bloody close.


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His Doctor hadn't been to see him in four days now. He hadn't had his medicine either, and he knew that this could be the reason for his sudden agitation. He just felt so weird. It was like Reality was moving in and out of focus. Sometimes, the whole Boy-Who-Lived moniker was attached to him, and he was either angry because no-one cared, or planning to murder Dumbledore because Dumbledore had chosen someone else to be the Boy. Sometimes, he knew that he was very sick, and that he had betrayed his best mate, his sister and the girl he sort of fancied. At those times, he tried to write them. He wrote long apologies to Ginny, to Hermione and even to the Goblins. He also would have written to Harry, but Harry was de .......

How dared they lock up the Boy-Who-Lived like this! Once he figured out how to use his amazing powers, he would show them! Kill them all! He would have every woman in the world, and any man who objected would be killed. He would have Hermione .... Hermione ... What had he done?

Ronald Weasley, a Dissociated mind, was not enjoying his life one bit.












Author's notes.
Time to set things to boil, I think. I have never read a fic where Rita becomes a friend or ally. Every-bloody-else can have a change of heart, but not her. She's clearly intelligent, and can probably tell where the wind is blowing. Her alliance with the stronger side is a thousand times more credible than Gay Harry getting it on with Malfoy, and that's a cliché these days. Draco, I mean. What do you think? Should I give Narcissa to Surt or someone? Never mind.

As you could see, Ronniekins is doing better, but he won't be out for a while, so don't worry yet.

Next, angst, negotiation and a chapter without Harry. I'll try, anyway.

Enjoy

Vanir