FicWad

Disclaimer.
If you recognise it, it's most likely not mine. JKR owns most of this, and I'm making no money on this whatsoever. If you're the kind of person who intends to make trouble by using this to fuss about, you're not allowed to read it. So there.




After such kindness, that would be



He was seated in the front row, looking every bit the regular student, unless you noticed the hard glint in his eyes. His hair was worn in a perfect ponytail, and his immaculate robes hid his Kilchurn costume and his sword.

As the rest of the Gryffindors had filed in, they had taken one look at his bright smiling face, and taken their seats with barely hidden smiles of anticipation. At exactly the right second, his target of the day entered the room.

“Good morning, class.”

“Good morning, professor Umbridge.”

“Now, this is NEWT-level Defence against the Dark arts, and according to this silly, silly curriculum, you children are supposed to use spells against each other. Obviously, we will therefore divide you by blood. Yes, Miss Granger?”

“Why does that matter, Professor?”

The pink blob looked at the young witch with disdain.
Harry smiled and raised his hand.

“I would think that would be obvious. Perhaps Mr Potter can answer your silly little question.”

Harry jumped out of his seat and stood at attention next to it.

“Certainly Professor. No pureblood can be expected to last against someone with more potent blood.”

Umbridges face cycled through several unpleasant hues before settling for a pasty white with pink spots. She obviously couldn't believe someone to be so misinformed.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Simple, Professor. Blood isn't purified through the generations. It's recycled. After a few generations, the magic in it dwindles unless there's an infusion of more potent heritage from somewhere. Two muggleborn parents never ever has a Squib child. That's a staleblood thing. Neville here is about as pure as they get. Come on, mate. Reducto my nose.”

Neville didn't hesitate for even a second. He pulled out his wand and cast the curse straight at his friend's face. The colour, speed and luminosity clearly told everybody that he wasn't holding back. It was a killer curse if it connected. However, it hit something about an inch from Harry's face, and dissipated over the surface of the invisible shield. Dolores Umbridge wasn't stupid enough to fall for such an obvious set-up, however. It was time to make this little half-blood crawl back into whatever hole he'd been hiding in.

“Interesting. Now, Mr Malfoy. Please cast a blasting curse at Mr Potter's nose.”

A vicious grin appeared on the blonde boy's face, as he drew his wand, and with an elaborate jerk launched a Bombarda at his foe. Harry grinned. He kept grinning when the slower spell impacted on his shield and was absorbed without a trace. Before the failed result had even registered with the little ponce, he found himself shackled to the desk by heavy iron chains, and his wand was in Harry's hand.

“Professor, did you just order a student to attack another with a blasting curse?”

“Of course I did. Just like you.”

“But I asked him to fire at me, not you. To use that example would require Miss Malfoy to fire at you, not me. These events have been recorded and will certainly be revisited. Please continue.”

“Eh. Thank you... well. As I said, we will now pair up. Mr. Longbottom and Mr Malfoy, please step forward..”

Harry tossed Neville a pair of keys, and Neville took the long way around the room to unlock the chains that held Draco in place. This required him to cross the makeshift duelling platform twice, and Harry noticed the little stream of what appeared to be dust, that flowed from the bottom of his pants. Harry grinned to himself. Neville hadn't been much of a powerhouse before, magically speaking, but with the Huldr-made grafts of specialised magic to his core, he was more than adequate to his opposition this time.
Draco Malfoy, however, strutted up and caught his tossed wand with a snapping motion. Well, he intended to, but he missed a bit, making it bounce to the side and down on the floor.

Neville had a look of concentration about him, and Harry noticed the green sheen on the floor as the boys raised their wands in salute. A little clock on the lectern made two little clicks and then a gong sounded. Malfoy started with the disarming spell, which Neville sidestepped and answered with a stunner, slightly too high. Malfoy dodged, and appeared to lose his balance. As he fell forward, the floor around him came alive, and roots and branches snared his hands to the floor and crawled up the legs of his pants, making him scream in a very silly fashion. Neville stepped forward and picked the blonde boy's wand up from the clump of roots that covered the floor.

“I win.”

Apart from some subdued whining, the room was silent until Harry started clapping. It grew to a standing ovation to the professor's consternation.

“Yes, Mr Longbottom, but five points from Gryffindor for using spells not in the ministry-approved curriculum.” This didn't have the desired effect on the Gryffindors, as she was met with seven blinding smiles. She tried to recover as best she could.

“Miss Granger, Miss Bulstrode, front and center, please.”

Harry managed to grab a hold of Hermione as she walked by. He whispered to her.

“Tonight, the common room, disillusioned but not silenced. If you win, that is.” Just for good measure, he melted her panties and saved the water in a little hip flask. Her eyes seemed to burn for an instant, and she took the floor with confidence and determination. Taking a leaf out of Neville's book, she started the duel with the hovering charm, making the Slytherin's robes billow up over her face, and a quick barrage of other common jinxes had Millicent Bulstrode slowed down, petrified, trussed up like a turkey and hanging half way up the opposing wall. As Mia claimed the other girl's wand, she quoted Neville with a toneless voice.

“I win.”
As she walked past Harry on the way back to her seat, Harry returned her knickers. She froze for an instant before she whispered in his ear.

“I will be wearing my necklace, and I dare you to make me scream, and then, mister smarty pants, we will discuss phase spaces and assorted disjointed technobabble.”

“What if I fill you so much that you will be leaking all the way up to your dorm? Little white drops running down your legs ..”

“Damn you.” Her eyes were slightly glazed as she returned to her seat, and Harry's nose told him that his bushy-haired friend was leaking already.

Seamus got trounched by Pansy, as the re-made girl was very proud of her assets and flashed him for a second, which stunned the libidous Irishman long enough for him to be swiftly disarmed.

Tracey got her pretty arse handed to her by Dean, as he never took his eyes off hers, and proved to be the quicker. No one else got a chance, as Professor Umbridge, secure in her pureblooded delusion, decided to do something really stupid.

“Mr Potter, now that the luck seems to have evened out, let's see how you do against a fully trained Pureblood. Come on now. Don't be shy.”

No one should have been fooled by his poorly feigned look of horror and his theatrically wobbling knees, but Umbridge looked triumphant nonetheless. She lost the smirk as his hand whipped up for the salute, with a blue glow around his ivory white wand. As the gong sounded, he bowed his head. A storm broke out. Harry's robes were thrown back over his shoulders, revealing his costume and, more importantly, his sword. The Claymore had a serpent's head for pommel, and the guards were entwined snakes. The hilt was wrapped in iridescent Lindorm leather, and the scabbard was covered in glowing runes. His wand grew to the Staff, and lightning crackled over the carvings. The sparks grew out into the air around him, and Delores Umbridge found herself pressed against the far wall. The air smelled of hay, of dust, earth and blood, and just outside of hearing were the sounds of horses and battle. Harry's hair had escaped the knot, and stood out over his head, carried on the current of Magic that radiated from him. Her single, weak disarming spell was torn apart by the magical storm in front of him. He raised his head, looked at her as he took a firm grip on the hilt of his sword.

“Yield.”

There was a clatter of wood as she immediately dropped her wand. Class was dismissed


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“Brown! Patil! Wait up.”

The girls stopped and turned, drawing their wands.

“Greengrass, Bulstrode. What's the matter?”

The Slytherin girls ran up to the Gryffindor's. After catching their breath, Daphne Greengrass spoke up.

“We propose a trade. D'you know what happened in the Slytherin Common the first night?”

“No, we haven't heard anything about that.”

“I'd be surprised if you had. It's been locked as a Slytherin Silence matter, but we have a way around that. In exchange, we want the inside track on Potter.”

Lavender couldn't stop a slightly mocking question.

“Scared you, did he?”

She was rewarded when the Slytherins jerked a little, and Bulstrode began.

“No, of course no...”

She was waved to silence by Greengrass.

“Shut up, Millie. You were as scared as I was. What happened to him? What did Longbottom do? He didn't even throw a curse!”

Lavender and Parvati held a quick conference with their eyes. Most of what they knew were going to be around the school in no time, and this way, there was some gossip to get in return. They made their choice, and Lavender went into lecture mode.

“Harry has grown. He's almost stupidly powerful, and he doesn't really need that wand, or staff or whatever it is. He's apparently a Sex God, and he can make a woman orgasm by touching her hand.”

Parvati couldn't help adding.

“He did you good, anyway.”

“And he'll do it again if I can help it. He's had some contact with a real, actual Goddess, and Pritchard may be heading the bunch at Kilchurn Castle, but Harry is the Lord. He's been in frequent contact with part- and Non-humans, and he will not now, not ever accept bigotry, or even have his friends called Dark, which I believe our books say they are. Your turn. What happened in your dungeon, and how in Merlin's name can you get around the Silence?”

“Easy, “ Greengrass smiled. “We need this information to stay ahead, and it's a part of the Slytherin Creed. We will do anything to get ahead.”

“Sounds a bit like Seamus' creed. Just lose the 'A'.” Lavender grinned.

“Indeed. Anyway, Snape was doing the normal speech about Silence and the honour of Slytherin and all when Tracey Davis came in. Draco started shouting about how she and Parkinson had sworn themselves to Potter and Longbottom and Snape lost it. He didn't draw his wand, he started in on them with words, fists and feet. I think he had actually broken at least Pansy's nose, maybe Tracey's too, when the door opened and a huge snake came in. Not a basilisk or anything like that, it was bright green, and had red horns or something along the jawline. It bit off Snape's hand, called him a liar about the ways of Slytherin, and cast V... Tom Riddle out of the house. It also said that there was a True Serpent Lord in the realm, who opposed the false one.”

“You mean it spoke English?”

“It did. It went on to tell Davis and Parkinson that they had chosen wisely, and it healed them with a spray of something from it's mouth, and then it left. Snape haven't been heard from since, and Malfoy is more or less shunned. I think the Consensus is that it was an embodiment of Slytherin House, but we're just not sure. The two of us believes that this means that we have to make something dramatic to put us in Kilchurn's good books. Would you say Harry would like it if we gave Seamus a number or two? Or anyone? I mean, if Tracey and Pansy made the right choice, and Tracey has sworn herself as some kind of peculiar sex-slave to Potter, and Pansy is training to be Longbottom's official Concubine, we have to find someone, too.”

Parvati thought about it carefully.

“I don't think you do. If you try to learn how to get along with Harry, maybe make yourselves available to Tracey and Pansy if they want to do something special for their Masters, and be generally good Slytherins, not the petty scheming variety that Malfoy and Flint before him made so bloody common, I think you'll be fine. You saw Harry there. To stand against him is not favourable to your careers, your health or anything. The Slytherin thing, the ambitious thing would be to become valuable to him, and frankly, Harry has all the pussy he needs, including mine for asking.”

Greengrass thought deeply.

“That stands to reason. What about Longbottom, then? Any clue?”

“He's with Bones, and from what I heard, she's the one who arranged for Pansy to become a concubine. If you want to get close to him, you have to go through her, because he wouldn't even dream of doing anything with a girl without her expressed permission. As for the New Nev, he's been close to a non-human who can give certain people gifts of power. Apparently, that mended his core, which was damaged when he was a baby. He's no Dumbledore, but the powers he got has to do with plants and growing things. Kind of fits, don't you think?”

This time Bulstrode, the Slytherin Herbology ace, grinned widely.
“He didn't need any help with that. He was amazing I the greenhouses before, but now I won't stand a chance. Have you heard anything about that sword?”

Parvati took that one.

“I heard him talking to Neville when they left. He mentioned making the hilt himself, but I think the blade is old, and he said he called it 'Scales' for short, because the full name was a bit of a mouthful.”

The thought struck them all at roughly the same time. They looked at each other with something like awe in their eyes. Finally, Daphne Greengrass broke the silence.

“I can only think of one sword who's name can be shortened to 'Scales'.”

Quietly, they contemplated this revelation. Suddenly their suspicions crystallised, and they knew that they would need to get closer to him. The time of legends was upon them, and those legends were carried by a scrawny boy they all had known for years. They had this corner piece of the puzzle that revealed the shape of the whole.

Scales. Excalibur.

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Harry was walking towards the Great hall. He hadn't expected a free period as a bonus for scaring the crap out of the annoying toad, but he welcomed it. He walked past a couple of Hufflepuff fifth year girls he had seen a hundred times before, but he noticed that one of them who usually wore braids had her hair down, and he thought it looked great. He stopped her on a whim, conjured a boquet of starflowers, and gave to her.

“You look beautiful like that. Have a nice day.” and then he moved on towards the hall. He flopped down at the Gryffindor table and started to go through his Law and Politics books. After a few minutes, Susan took a seat in front of him. She was giggling, and he noticed that giggling did nice things to her chest.

“Harry, what in the world did you do to Trina Donnelly? She's barely coherent, and there's something about the way she clutches those flowers that's just indecent.”

“Trina, Trina...oh yeah. Fifth year muggleborn, Hello Kitty bookbag and no braids today?” At Susan's nod, he continued. “I liked the way she looked with her hair down, so I gave her flowers and told her so.”

“Harry, in her mind you practically proposed. I've been tooting the Kilchurn line in our common room, telling everybody what a great guy you are, and then you do something like this? Thankfully, I could let her down gently, by telling her that's just the kind of guy you are, but she's still star-struck. Maybe you should do her, just in case.”

“I wish I had the time, but I have too much sex scheduled for today as it is. I was worrying that I would have a dry spell once school started, but I couldn't be further from the truth. I'm going dry here.”

Susan just laughed at the exasperated voice of her weary Lord. Hufflepuff was more or less rallied to his side, and the idea that equality should extend outside of humanity, to all sentients, was accepted easier than she had thought. From what she had heard, Luna had used a very different approach with Ravenclaw. The intellectuals of Ravenclaw seemed to be ill equipped to deal with more simplistic arguments, like 'do it my way, or I'll hurt you.' Rumour had it that Cho Chang had started to insult Luna, in a fit of pique over the younger girl's enhanced bust. The spectacular black eye the Prefect wore today did lend some credence to the story, as Luna could throw a punch these days. Suddenly, the pecking order of the Ravenclaw house had changed. That should prove interesting to follow, Susan thought. Cho and that bitch, Marietta, had been very subdued after the first night, and Luna had begun to move with purpose ad confidence. She turned her attention back to the Lord.

“So, who will have trouble sitting tonight then?”

“I have to meet Tonks tonight for her fix, and Disa will be with her. I also promised Mia something rather special. Tracey can probably wait another day, and I have a 'Diplomatic exchange' to negotiate with Luna. I also believe that Katie Bell will jump me one of these days. Do you have anything on her? She smells a bit, I don't know, odd.”

“I've heard that she may not be fully human. Have you heard her angry? That funny accent she gets into? I bet she's from Orkney, and that can only mean one kind of non-human.”

“Orkney roughly translates to Seal Island, if I know my Norse which I do. Selkie, you think?”

“Yes. Look at her eyes sometimes. They're almost all black. Now, should I add arranging your ... sexual schedule to my duties, My Lord?”

“Damn it, Susan. Could you stop using that voice on me? What kind of schedule do you suggest?”

“Well, Hermione is in the tower, studying. You have a free period. Deal with her now, and save some stamina for Tonks and some semen for Disa. Then, My Lord, I suggest you find yourself a furnace somewhere and make something beautiful for me. You need to relax.”

“That's not a bad idea, Sue. Tell Neville to give you ten minutes extra from me tonight.”

“I will, My Lord. Have fun.”

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Hermione Granger was frustrated. She was sitting in the common room with some second- and fourth-years, who had a free period, and she seethed. Harry, her nice, naïve Harry had outmanoeuvred her three times already, with disturbing ease. On the train, he had simply shagged her senseless. That had been a lot nicer than when he fooled her with Dyson. The terms he had used didn't match, but it had taken her hours to prove it. Today, he had brought a little warrior out of her with the promise of a fantasy, and she very much doubted that he would make good on it.
Well, she did doubt it until something grabbed her and lifted her straight out of her seat, towards the ceiling of Gryffindor Tower. The movement was so quick that no one even noticed. She observed with some curiosity that she had passed into some kind of concealment sphere that appeared invisible from the outside, while she saw the entire common room perfectly from the inside. Only then did it occur to her to possibly be frightened. She turned to see Harry standing on the ceiling, and she found that she was indeed looking up at the floor. He put his finger across his lips and grew to his full muscular size. He whispered to her.

“They can hear us. Just be quiet. Very, very quiet.” He then put his hands on her shoulders, and she shuddered at the glow in his eyes, and at the sensation of her robes melting off her body. He grabbed her arms, and threw himself backwards onto the floor/ceiling, with her on top of him. As he turned her over on top of him, making her look down on the others in the common room as his hands caressed her body, her body simply lit up. She knew the concealment spell was there, but there was nothing to remind her of it, and it really felt like all these people only would have to look up to see her shame, to see her hard, aching nipples straining against her bra or how her lacy little knickers were almost dissolved by her juices. As she thought it, he did that frustrating thing again, and her knickers just flowed right off of her, and she was laid bare for all the room to see. Her heart was trying to beat itself out of her chest, and her breaths were ragged. His hands moved to her breasts, and as he pinched her nipples through the bra, she released a flood of juices that filled the room with her scent. She could feel him move under her, and suddenly, he was naked, too. She bit her lip, trying to contain her whimper as she felt the heat of his massive member between her legs. Her bra was gone, too. She could feel his breath in her ear.

“You know, Mia, I intend to fuck you now. Right here, under the ceiling of the Common Room. The inversion charm that holds us here is simple, and it will last until I counter it, but the concealment is different.”
He was rubbing her nipples with one hand as he spoke, and his other was slowly moving downwards.
“What if it fails when I come? Maybe it fails when I get really excited? You're very exciting in yourself, Mia, and I am quite excited already. If it fails, they can see us.”

He used both hands on her little pussy now. He stroked and caressed her labia, without ever touching her clitoris. He spread her wide with his fingers, and she couldn't help moaning. One of the students in the room looked up from his book with a surprised look. She was right above him, spread open like a ... she couldn't find a good analogy, as she looked don between her legs. Harry's enormous member stood up between her legs, and she just knew that she had to have it. She squirmed downwards and started to rub herself against his hot pole, and she whispered to him.

“Harry, I need something from my left pocket. A bottle. Can you get it for me?”

She could feel him tense up a little, but soon, he lifted the bottle into view, using the cold glass to tease her nipples even further. She grabbed the bottle and quickly slid off of him, turned and took his crown in her mouth. At the same time, she positioned her pussy over his face, and squatted down with some force.
It was just wonderful. His tongue was very long, and reached far inside her, touching special places that she hadn't even known about. She did feel the continuous pressure on her G-spot, however, and she knew that if she came now, he might just drown. Her primary attention, though, was on the glorious monster in front of her face. She licked. She sucked. She did her best to take it as deep as she possibly could, but she didn't get very far. The small drops of precum were savoured like a fine wine, and she found it delicious. After about two minutes, she realised that she hadn't given him any space to breathe through, and she jumped off him with haste. She looked up at his face, and he just smiled at her. At least he hadn't suffered. Now she got busy. She knew she wouldn't be able to keep him inside her for long, so she used her hands and mouth to bring him as far along as she could. She started to lick his balls while she caressed his crown with one hand, as she used her other hand to rub the potion over her little pussy, careful to spread it inside her as well. When she felt the tingle, she sat up, facing away from him, and squatted over his huge cock. Looking up at the busy, but quiet, common room, she slowly impaled herself on his enormous meat. The potion did it's work, by increasing her elasticity several times over, but it didn't make her less tight. Slowly, she sank down, until she just couldn't get any further, and she laid back over his body. He grabbed hold of her breasts and started thrusting in and out of her impossibly stretched pussy. This continuous friction on both her G-spot and her clit made her cum in just a few seconds, but he kept thrusting, prolonging her orgasm to a blissful torture She bit her lip as hard as she dared to keep fro crying out as the amazing member pounded her insides. In a brief respite between orgasms, she whispered to him.

“Harry, I want to swallow your cum. Please tell me when.”

“Right now is fine,” he answered, and she could hear the tension in his voice. She slid off him with an audible plopping sound, making several of the people in the hall notice, and turned him on his side. She laid on the floor/ceiling beside him, and jerked him off with his crown in her mouth as she looked up at the people in the room. As she felt him twitch, she took him as deep as she could, and, looking down at her fellow students in the Gryffindor Common Room, her mouth was filled with the delicious taste of Harry's seed. She had studied the subject enough to be able to drink, and not one drop was wasted.

Once he had recovered, he did that annoying thing again, and her clothes, minus her bra and knickers of course, flowed back on her, and between one breath and the next, he was dressed as well. He walked her on the ceiling to the girl's dorm stairs, where he let her down, and then, he was gone. They had been silent ever since he came.
She had a very good reason to stay silent. She still had her mouth full of Harry's cum.


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The Politics class had been enlightening, as it turned out to be a lecture on what Neville had done when Harry had been busy screwing. Apparently though, the Professor, a dusty old man called Binks, had no idea just who Neville was, and they had exchanged many amused glances as the little man had gone into rapture over the cunning moves of Kilchurn. Truthfully, many of these moves had been successful due to the support of the GOL's, but that had apparently escaped the little politician's notice.

After classes that day, Harry vanished. A lot of people went looking for him, but he was nowhere to be found. When one of the more clever ones asked a portrait, they got the answer that Mr Potter was doing his chores, and that his location was not public. This made everybody believe that he was in the headmaster's office, but he was in fact in a large room in a dusty and almost forgotten part of the dungeons. The room was furnished with a large bed and one of the Kilchurn Arches. Hogwarts had agreed to allow for people to travel with the arches to this room, as long as they didn't leave it without the Headmasters or Deputy Headmaster's permission. Somehow, Harry suspected that he wouldn't have much of a problem getting Minnie's permission. Right now, though, the bed was covered in a worn-out Tonks, a highly content and even burping Disa and a sweaty Harry. He was lying spread-eagled in the middle of the bed, and Tonks slowly dragged herself up towards his crotch where she took his flaccid member in her mouth and started sucking him back up.

“Hey Tonks, If I fuck you again, you'll break.”

“I don't care. More cock. More Harry. You still haven't fucked my arse today.”

“I have, and you came three times.”

“Let her, Master. She might get you up, but she'll fall asleep soon. Good job there, by the way. Ten orgasms and not one spark from you.”

“The plan is to get her off this addiction. How about you? All fed?”

“Oh yes. You're spoiling me, but don't you dare stop. By the way, I should tell you that Saga and Gunlög are doing both your enlisted Einharjers and the Legion. If we need it, can we go to them for some relief, too, Jorunn and I?”

“Hm. I'm not too fond of the idea, actually. If you need it, of course you can, but I rather you came to me. I love you, you know.”

“We do, and I asked for emergencies. We have started to eavesdrop on the Aurors, so that we can give them backup if they need it, and there's a lot of Lindorms and other animals around that can keep watch for us. The mining town that Neville asked us to scout out is perfect, by the way. There are enough standing buildings there for 2500 residents, and the Elves are having a field day cleaning it up. The Legion have been setting some muggle-repelling wards and stuff, and we have planted loads of trees in the area. With some help, and there are a lot of Huldr ready to help, we should have a sizeable forest in just a few weeks.”

“Nice. Invitations to other species?”

“Sent out. Father is practising like crazy. He plans to make the little pond nearby into a real lake. There are some aquatic life forms that we might like to save.”

“Any problems?”

“Nothing much. The ministry tried to keep us from talking to the Werewolves, but as the cleaning of the place is handled by your elves these days, it didn't last long. It's like no one at the ministry can cast a cleaning charm. They buckled under the pressure of full trash cans. You really need to do something to establish sovereignty.”

“Morons, the lot of them. I'd better talk to Nev about it. Look. Tonks is asleep.”

“She looks cute like that, with your cock in her mouth.”

“So do you. Well, It's been nice, but I guess I'll better get upstairs and bewilder a few people.”

“You do that, Master. I'll take care of the big, strong Auror here. Later, beloved.”

“Later.”

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The headmaster was concerned. His influence over Harry, cultivated over the years seemed to be gone completely, and somehow, the boy had grown immensely over the summer.
Delores had given him a shivering report of the incident, and had cancelled several classes due to the personal crisis she was suffering from.
Poor Delores, she had had too many hits at her preconceptions of late. First, there had been the aristocratic Lord of Kilchurn, who had physically hit her for insulting his people, then, he had challenged her beloved Ministry and made it clear that he didn't think too much of it.
She had been forced to watch as some of the fringe groups of society, Werewolves for one, got more and more support in the Wizengamot and that Lord Kilchurn was a greater source of safety for people than the Ministry's Aurors. There was even a report from yesterday that an Auror strike force, sent out to deal with a smuggling ring who dealt in banned potion ingredients had seen observers, wearing the uniform of the Kilchurn Armed Forces. The Aurors had responded positively to that, claiming that it was good to know that someone had their backs covered.

Today, her long-held belief that Purebloods were better had been challenged hard by Granger and Potter, a Mixed-blood and a Muggleborn. She had even had the Malfoy boy, considered quite powerful by the Slytherins, attack Longbotton, who was considered weak in the extreme. Apparently the Longbottom boy had won in a spectacular fashion, and after Potter had scared her half way to St. Mungo's, her secure little world had crumbled.
The headmaster smiled about that. Harry hadn't used force. He had just displayed his ability and told her to yield. The boy might be out of the Headmaster's influence, but he was still in the Light.

The reports from Severus were a lot more troubling. There were no reports of great snakes around Slytherin house before. This one had defended a pair of Slytherin miscreants, and removed the Head of House's hand.
The snake had also cast Tom Riddle out of Slytherin, in a way that actually had registered with the Castle. All documentation about him stated that he had been cast out, and the mention of his house in various places had been erased. Severus obviously felt his authority with his house was in jeopardy, especially as the miscreants, to use his words, were now free to spread their vileness all over his house.
Perhaps the Headmaster should look a little closer at the crime they had committed.

Severus hadn't mentioned that.

Hufflepuff house had settled nicely, and Susan Bones had turned out to be the unofficial leader, and that was good. She, too, spoke well of Kilchurn, and advocated a more forceful anti-bigotry agenda than the passive resistance the house had settled for previously. Pomona didn't mind, as the girl was quite moderate, do the Headmaster saw no reason whatsoever to intervene.

Ravenclaw had had a bit more turmoil at the start of the term.
Filius had been very happy to report a change in his house. The headmaster had of course been aware of the slightly boisterous group called the Clique, headed by the seventh-year prefect, Chang. Now, though, it seemed like Lovegood was the aphex of Ravenclaw, seeing as she had charmed most of the house to follow her, or Kilchurn. The difference wasn't quite clear, and when Chang had made some pointed remarks, she and her lieutenant, Edgecombe, had each received a severe beating. Someone had obviously taught Lovegood to fight physically. The injuries were limited to some severe bruising, and according to the portraits, Lovegood had offered to heal them, which only Edgecombe had accepted. The fifth-year girl had then bared one of her noticeable breasts, and touched the injuries with it, making the bruises vanish

He headmaster hadn't really been aware of the bullying problems of the house before, and he still suspected that the reports were exaggerated. The reports had, for instance, stated that the prefect, Chang, had been severely involved, and to suspect such a lovely creature of such vile behaviour just didn't sit right with him. Still, it was an internal matter of the house and not his problem.

He frowned a bit as he thought of Gryffindor. The house could just as well be renamed Kilchurn. Not only did it house Harry, who didn't say much on the subject, but somehow he had gained the respect and admiration of his entire house, it also housed Neville Longbottom, who had grown from a shy planter to a confident political mover, all in the name of Kilchurn. Why did that man succeed where he, Albus Dumbledore, had failed?
He had asked Neville about the reason for Kilchurn's successful gaining of respect. The boy had politely avoided the question, until the Headmaster had pushed a bit too hard.

“Headmaster, when we, the Kilchurn crew, see something fucked, we try our best to unfuck it. Actions speak louder than words, and a shitload louder than waiting for nothing and playing parlour games behind the scenes.”

The young man had appeared a tad upset.

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Caradoc Pritchard, new names, old legends and
Harry Potter, The Boy Who Just Refuse To Die.

By Rita Skeeter.


He's back.

He fell to cutting curses, decaying curses, blasting and killing curses and now he's back for more.

Ladies and gentlemen, witches and wizards all, there is much we have to thank the House of Kilchurn for, and lately, the list has grown to include Harry Potter. An emergency Portkey, which partly malfunctioned due to the intense magical field, whisked our favourite schoolboy away from certain death, and brought him to safety and intensive training according to a highly initiated source.
Who would know such things, I hear you ask?

Elaine Pritchard, Harry Potter's fiancé, that's who.

Instead of being stuffed back into an abusive Muggle home, unfit to house anything except possibly dementors, (Elaine's words) Harry spent his summer an an undisclosed location, catered by experienced fighters, legendary mages and magical creatures. In this stimulating environment, Harry Potter has worked hard these months to become as good a fighter as he could possibly be. A true defender of Justice and Equality, and this, dear readers, seems to be what the House of Kilchurn is all about.
When Elaine was escorted into my office by a house elf, she thanked the elf with respect. I must admit I found it a little bit odd, until I saw how the little tyke straightened up and winked at her. When Elaine later told me just how organised these little beings are, I made up my mind to be a lot more polite to our tireless helpers in the future. First, though, there were things I needed to know.

Who is Caradoc Pritchard?

What does he want?

How can we help?

Here's what I learned, and I must say I wasn't too surprised.
Caradoc Pritchard is no stranger in Great Britain. He has been here before, but under another name. The only timeframe I could get was that his age is surprising. Also, he is not what we today, at this day and age, would call fully human. I learned that his charming daughter was adopted, and she freely confessed to be centuries old! Imagine my surprise when I had hoped to interrogate an innocent sweet sixteen. Caradoc is very powerful, and he doesn't really use spells at all, and he is absolutely ruthless to his enemies. He is a parselmouth, and knows how to speak to dragons, and has made friends among them. Dear readers, didn't we learn about him in school?

What does he want then? What has brought him back to our islands after all these years?

Our failure, that's what. Once upon a time, there was peace here, and all the magical races coexisted in relative harmony and that time, dear readers, is gone. Over the past century, the Dark Lords have come with an alarming frequency, and we, the Wizarding world has forgotten that we are part of something larger, the Magical world, where Elves, Centaurs, Werewolves and other beings, with even darker tinges to their names, have their places as well.
The man we know as Caradoc Pritchard is not here to fix it for us. He's just training the one who will.
Harry Potter.
Once again, this young man is at the centre of our future, just as he was all those years ago, when he stopped the Dark Lord for the first time. If our leaders had done their duty, there would never have been a second time, You-Know-Who wouldn't have had a support structure already in place, but it seems like our Minister has been to busy accepting money from this structure to ever bother even investigating their involvement with You-Know-Who. The Centaurs, these wise beings, has developed contempt for humans and rightly so, considering how they have been treated. Elves are considered as little more than furniture, except we don't make a chair punish itself when we stub a toe, and by regulating their lives so hard as we do, the Werewolves, ordinary humans most of the time, are more or less forced into crime and Darkness, simply to get a chance to sleep indoors. The list is endless, and our ministry considers most of them threats, because the ministry has made them into threats.

How can we, the citizens of Magical Britain, help?

We need a new Minister. We need to support the House of Kilchurn in their attempts to make homes for non-human magical beings. That project is apparently well under way, and costs us nothing, but help is always welcome. Neither Caradoc or Harry are naïve enough to believe anything to happen overnight, but we all need to remember that there are other magical beings in this world, and that they are worthy of our respect.

The Dark Lord?
We just need to get out of Harry's way.

Harry appears to be quite the romantic, dear readers ....


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“This is an outrage! Take every Auror you have and close down the Prophet.”

“Minister, we can't do that. By the Prophet's press charter, this article is clearly within the letter of the law.” Amelia Bones stated. She had enjoyed the article, but she enjoyed the purplish complexion of the Minister even more. The spittle, however, she could do without.

“That inhuman bitch then. Attack Kilchurn for High Treason. She confessed to being a beast. She's done damage to me, a wizard. She has to be put down.”

“Minister! Listen to me. That would be an act of war in the eyes of Kilchurn. He will not send a protest to the Wizengamot, he will not write a sarcastic note in the paper. He will kill you, your family and the man who sells you tea. The Aurors considers him a friendly force, who has their backs covered against criminals. If you give the order, I will see it delivered, but that's the last thing I do, because I want to live. That means I'll be getting away from you as fast as I can. You have options, but charging onto Kilchurn is not a smart one. You have made too many cuts in the Auror budget. There's only 400 Aurors available, and Kilchurn can rouse thousands, and that force might just include an Auror or two as well.”

The little man in the green bowler sank down into his chair.

“Is there any way I can save something?”

“Your face, Cornelius. You can save some face. Make a grand stroke, and cut some of the Werewolf regulations. They still need to be registered, but if you ask Remus Lupin, he can help you with that. Make House Elf abuse illegal. Cut out the Veela Inferiority Act. Then, you can retire with honour. You've been fooled by Malfoy and others, and everybody knows that. Admit it, publicly. Confess to having been played for a fool and people will forgive you.”

“I see.” The little Minister thought for a moment, before continuing. “Madam Bones, Caradoc Pritchard is an enemy of the state. Order the Aurors to attack Kilchurn castle with all their might. After that, you're fired. There is only one Minister of Magic, and that is Cornelius Nero Fudge.”



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“Get out of his way? How dare she write something like that?”

“Master, she ...”

“Silence! When I want your opinion, I'll give it to you, Worm.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Go to this Skeeter-woman's home and leave nothing alive. Let the Dark mark be her final exclamation mark. Take as many as you have to, but leave me Snape. I need his ears at the school. You're dismissed.”

Wormtail scurried away. This wasn't going according to plan at all. They had spent a lot of gold to get the Vampyr's over to them, and they had left without completing even one mission. With this article, recruiting would be almost impossible, and the last ten hadn't even qualified for a Hogwarts letter. They were scraping the bottom of the barrel and got quite a lot of dregs in the process.
He only had ten Death Eaters left that he knew could handle a fight, and Wormtail was not quite stupid enough to like those odds. This was not good. On the other hand, it was a low risk mission. Who would guess that they would be attacking a journalist?

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“Bloody hell!” Harry reached out through the link.

~Hey Stina? Read the prophet yet?

~Yes, beloved. One contingent of Huldr and Einharjer's are on the way to Skeeter's home address, and we have surveillance on the Prophet. I must have screwed up more than I thought, Master. I'm so sorry.

~Never mind that. Skeeter is just Skeeter. Even when she likes me, she makes trouble. Keep me posted, love.

~Will do. See you soon?

~If possible. Spread the love, Dear. See you.

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It was close to three in the morning, and the heat was intense. The ringing sound of the hammer against the anvil filled the Room of Requirement, and the sweat was pouring off him. He checked the heat of the Forge with a melting rod, and as it was enough, he pulled the casts out of the coals and poured the bright shining metal from three different crucibles, very gently, into the casts. It was a tricky thing to do, and required either three sets of hands, or a Sorcerer, to get done right. He sealed the casts with kiln cement, and buried them in the back of the forge again, where they would cool slowly. He went back to the blade he had been working on, and folded it again before shoving it into the coals. He had five pieces at work at the same time, and the timing was crucial. He pulled out the hilt for Luna's dagger. His Goddess had been highly amused by the girl's antics, and had agreed to let Harry convey her power for this work. As he picked up the tiny chisels and went to work on the décor, he sung the allure and attraction of the Goddess into the hilt. The effect wouldn't reach very far, but in touching distance, the girl would be irresistible. The handle had soft curves, and was very feminine without being obvious, and the pommel would be a true depiction of the moon, and the impression would be of a busty woman holding the Moon in her hands. As it began to cool, he put it back in the fire and took out the next piece.

“You are very good at that, My Lord Sorcerer.” a voice behind him said. As he had sensed her/it, he wasn't surprised.

“Thank you, Lady Hogwarts. Is that what I should call you?” He filled the hollows of Hermione's hilt with moon silver, making the ermine and candles on the miniature crest shine before he turned around. The Avatar of the castle wore a classic gown of the thirteenth century, and the sharp blue eyes and raven-black hair was familiar, although he couldn't place it.

“That would be appropriate, I guess. I may have borrowed Rowena Ravenclaw's likeness, but I am not her. You appear to prefer this type of woman, so I am trying to make a good impression.”

“You are very pleasing to my eyes, Milady. Is this a social call, or is there a disaster I need to know about?”

“It is part social, and part instructional. You are the first sorcerer in a long time, Milord, and you are bringing students of all houses together. This activates patterns in my core that has never been used before. As the portraits report an opposition between the Headmaster and you, I need to understand how to adapt. I cannot fully serve both of you.”

“I see. As I see it, the Headmaster is declining. He is no longer in full control of his faculties. The Deputy headmistress is more than capable of handling things in the day-to-day affairs of the school, so I'm not worried about that. The Headmaster is just playing games with people, and I have very little patience with that.”

“I see. I am of course aware of the situation between students, and I believe I know who your friends are. May I assist them in finding you unless you tell me otherwise?”

“Yes, of course. Is there anyone searching that I need to know about?”

“I believe the Patil girls will need to find you tomorrow night. They have written a letter to their father, and wants him to meet you tomorrow night at ten, I think. The real smithy below will be ready by then, and is located near the Arch room. May I guide them there?”

“Sounds good to me. Can you transport the pieces from here without cooling them too much?”

“Gryffindor preferred to mend his own things, and I have memories of metalwork. I can care for them properly. They will be there when you arrive. May I place an inactive portrait there, for communication? It's a late portrait of Rowena, made the Wizarding way, but there are no imprints in the frame so I can animate it fully.”

“That would be nice. I guess I'll call it a day then.”

“Good night, My Lord Sorcerer.

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Auror Dawlish was angry with his team. Kilchurn was no god, he wasn't Merlin or even important. Kilchurn hadn't done anything worthy of his respect, and now, by order of the Minister, Kilchurn was a criminal. They had portkeyed in several miles from the castle and were now following the shore towards the ruin. How anyone could live in the old pile of rocks was beyond Dawlish' imagination, but suddenly he heard a sound overhead. It was that bloody pigeon that Kilchurn paraded around with. He grinned to himself, wondering what the bird would taste like cooked as he launched a fire curse towards the beautiful Peregrine. The curse disappeared in a wall of water that suddenly rose above the eight-man Auror team, and as the enormous wave crashed down upon the Aurors, Dawlish realised that he may have made a mistake there ...












Author's notes.
I guess the heat is on, and Kilchurns forces are divided. Dumbledore's attention wavers and Slytherin house is without rudder.
I know I disappointed some of you by not detailing the scene with Tonks, but there will be others, and I had a lot of fun with Hermione.
Next, consolidation and declarations of war.
Read, enjoy and review.

Vanir.