Author's Note:
This is both a HP reworking of "Back to the Future" themes, and a soft reboot/reworking of the time travel tale "Hair of the Grim" by Nightmare Sired Muse. It also contains many concepts, lines and situations from the grab-bag that is "Odd Ideas" and other things written by Rorschach's Blot. Used with the permission of their original authors (except for "Back to the Future" of course). The Harry Potter series belongs to J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. I do not own Harry Potter or anything else. Full disclaimer in the Table of Contents.
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Rated M for some violence, language, drug use and sexual references. Nothing explicit.
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Canon-compliant. HP&DH compliant (except the Epilogue). HP&CC compliant (except the conclusion). FB&WTFT compliant. Pottermore compliant (mostly). Some crossover with: Naruto, Ranma ½, Neon Genesis Evangelion, Twilight, Lord of the Rings and Avatar: The Last Airbender. Primarily Harry Potter though.
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Recommended Fanfiction of the Week: "Magical Contracts" by Kalen Darkmoon.
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Question of the Week: Anyone ever come across any fanfics heavily featuring the African magical school Uagadou?
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Chapter 31 – Have Fangs, Will Travel
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From now on, I don't care if my tea leaves spell 'Die, Ron, die', I'm chucking them in the bin where they belong.
– Ronald Weasley
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"Evening, Lady Black, Lady Malfoy," Tom greeted the two women. "Your friend is waiting for you over there." He nodded his grizzled head towards the table in the far corner, shrouded in darkness.
"Thankyou, Tom," Andromeda Tonks murmured, leading the way to the shadowy figure seated, back against the wall. "Thankyou for meeting with us," she said politely, after sweeping the area three times for traps or listening charms.
"How could I refuse when Tom tells me that two such august members of the Wizengamot wished to speak with me?" Miss X replied sardonically.
Andromeda sized the hidden woman up carefully for a bit. Satisfied with the results, she nodded to Hermione to begin.
"You're doubtless wondering what two strangers want with you, 'Miss X'. As I'm sure you've already surmised, we come for your help."
"You're the one who led the raid on the Death Eaters in the docklands, Miss Dolores Jane Umbridge," the woman drawled.
Hermione nodded. "Thanks to your information – we appreciate that very much, by the way."
The woman inclined her head gracefully.
"You've been a big help to Peter Pettigrew; I don't know how much, he refuses to talk about your 'tuition', but I can deduce that your contribution has been substantial. I am grateful for your assistance to my friend."
"Hear hear," murmured Andromeda.
"I'll be blunt, Miss X – we would like you to join the Hogsmeade Auxiliary force to the Hogwarts Army."
"Join your grocers' association?" the voice asked in amusement.
"Officially or in an advisory position. You don't have to reveal who you are, or even that you exist, to the rest of them. The HAHA would greatly benefit from your knowledge and experience."
"And for what possible reason would I ever want to link hands with the local amateur Neighbourhood Watchers?"
Ignoring the question, Hermione laid out three stacks of parchment on the table between them. "This," she tapped the first with her forefinger, "is my research into where Voldemort got all his power," she pretended not to notice the other's flinch, "I was reading certain restricted books on foreign forms of magic which mentioned a magical technique that allows a wizard to draw magic from his followers. The Wizengamot's and DoM's libraries have been most helpful in that regard." Plus whatever I can still remember about my research into the matter in my last life. Would've made my life orders of magnitude easier if I had these resources on hand back then. "If only the Unspeakables were as helpful as their jealously-guarded texts."
"So what?"
"That was one reason why he was so powerful, well, before he ascended to squibdom," Hermione explained. "He linked to many powerful people in the form of a Dark Mark. I am exploring possible ways for us to you take advantage of this magical technique."
"Take advantage how?"
"By replicating it, with some modifications. I've determined that the Dark Mark is dark magic, hence the name."
"What a surprise."
"Isn't it?" Hermione agreed, unmindful of the sarcasm. "By cross-referencing the technique I believe he used with other texts in Hindi, Arabic, Farsi, Japanese, and Turkish, my assistants found several promising leads." Albeit not without endless whinging about taking them away from their experiments. What a bunch of whiners the Unspeakables are! Who knew? "Which brings us to this," she tapped the second pile of documents. "My research on a very rare, obscure and secret power-ritual that has been passed down through the ages from Lord Black to Lord Black and no-one else."
"If that's the case, how do you know about it? The Families guard such family magics jealously, especially those as ancient as you're suggesting."
"Since the House of Black is effectively no more, I don't think anyone's left to object," Hermione grinned. "The current Lord Black was kind enough to relay every scrap of information he knew about the ritual, and Proxy Black was kind enough to give me access to the vault in which all the books and artefacts extracted from the Black properties have been stored. Several of the books from the former Black Library provide important context and other insights, if one knows the ritual itself. Which brings us to door number three," she tapped a nail on the final stack. "The research on soul-magic that Dirk Murray, one of my 'grocers' from the HAHA and his mentor Master Necromancer Aleister Dee were able to pull together. Even as we speak, a group of helpers from the Necromancy Guild are poring through their own libraries to find any other information of value. Between my Unspeakable assistants, Master Dee's assistants, and myself and Andromeda, we have been able to construct a modified ritual that combines the benefits of all three systems of magics, and attempts to minimise the drawbacks. Quite the feat, arithmantically speaking; I'd consider writing a thesis on it for an Arithmancy Mastery if it weren't imperative that nobody outside of ourselves ever knows about it."
"So why are you telling a complete stranger this?"
"You're hardly a complete stranger; I know Peter trusts you. And, we need something from you."
"You want someone with a Dark Mark."
"Got it in one. So far, everything we've got is theoretical. I'd rather not actually perform dangerous, powerful and highly-experimental magic without as much testing as possible. The last thing we want is a repeat of the last two rituals those morons performed," she muttered the last sentence under her breath.
"What happened during the last rituals?" The woman's ears were obviously very keen.
"That's not important," Hermione said hastily, "what is important is getting ahold of Dark Marks. I've got two dozen Death Eaters and another dozen sympathisers in my dungeons, but none of them have the Dark Mark unfortunately. Too low down in the ranks; as far as I can tell, all the Inner Circle who are still alive have fled to Japan with their Lords. So there's only so much data I can collect from my lab rats."
"I abandoned the group before I could receive my Mark," Miss X said quickly. "So there's no point adding me to your collection!"
"I figured as much," Hermione said. "But you have contacts; your hear things that we can't. Surely you know of someone we can snatch?"
The mysterious tutor pondered this proposal for a while. Andromeda and Hermione gave her as much time as she needed.
"You are … an interesting person, Miss Dolores Umbridge," she finally spoke.
"As are you, Miss Sybil Trelawney."
Miss X gasped and lurched backwards unconsciously. "How did you know?" she breathed.
"Your disguise charms are most impressive; I haven't been able to penetrate them. I doubt Andy's been able to either. But there's no need to do so when I can recognise your extremely distinctive chin and jawline." It seems what limited time I spent in Divination actually came in useful for once! "An effective cover, pretending to be a batty soothsayer fraud who shills amulets and miracle creams through her séances and Daily Prophet columns. I probably would've fallen for it too, except for a friend of mine who used a similar camouflage."
"You refer to Lady Malfoy," Trelawney said flatly. "Little Pandora always was a razor-sharp cookie. Had to be, to survive the Malfoys."
"A relative of yours, I presume?" interjected Andromeda.
"Distant cousin; distant enough to stay under the radar of both the Malfoys and whatever's been purging them … you wouldn't happen to know anything about that would you?"
"I'm sure I've no idea what you mean," Hermione said primly.
"You want marked Death Eaters, why don't you get your grocers to scour Knockturn? They've many more hands than I."
"The bulk of the HAHA have shifted into more … commercial operations of late." A nice euphemism for plotting to suck all the gold out of the entire global wizarding banking system!
"Marximus McKinnon," Trelawney said suddenly. "He's been very active in the property market of late. I did think it odd, it's not his usual area ... buying up land, houses and businesses owned by fleeing Dark Families."
Hermione nodded. "His firm is acting as our agents. Their forces are hungry for liquidity; wars are fought on wands and gold, after all."
"And you're very kindly supplying them with the latter," Trelawney replied sarcastically. "I'm sure they're very appreciative."
Andromeda shrugged. "Gold is fleeting, it comes and it goes. What lasts are land, buildings, essential businesses, roads, docks, bridges, ships, cattle … the foundations of industry and agriculture. The Purists are selling off the geese who lay the golden eggs; we're more than happy to part with gold to ensure that when this war finally ends, they'll have no long-term assets in Britain. No way of restocking their coffers. They'd have to start from scratch, just like the muggleborn they so despise. And without the foundations of their wealth, their influence in the Ministry and society will wither away."
"I'm quite sure Lord Malfoy is ready and willing to deprive them of all that gold the first chance he gets over in Japan," Hermione added. "But impoverishing the Families does no good if they win over there. Nothing would stop them and their allies from steamrolling over the British Ministry of Magic and seizing whatever they want in this country. Which is why it's imperative we finish our research."
"Neither of us have any intention of breaking your confidence," Andromeda assured the agitated seer.
"As long as I continue to play ball and get you what you want," the cloaked woman replied sourly.
"I'd rather you help us because it will end this war quicker," Hermione said.
Trelawney considered the two Wizengamot members for a while. "I'm not joining your little knitting club; my life's in enough danger as it is without deliberately painting a giant red bulls-eye on my back." She sighed. "I'll see whether I can find you some Dark Marks. Should be a few still skulking around."
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"Hola touristas!" came the boisterous, cheery cry.
The three occupants of the train car looked up to see a very familiar pink-haired Auror bounce in, followed by a very familiar dark-haired Dark Lord counterpart. Harry was sitting in the corner leafing through a stack of parchments. Narcissa was curled up against Sirius, head resting in the crook of his neck.
"Tonks, Tom, how's it hanging?"
"Low and lazy," she grinned. "How are you enjoying the Shanking?"
"I think you mean Shinkansen," Narcissa corrected. "And it's far more comfortable than the Hogwarts Express, let me tell you. So who's your new friend?"
Tom was gently leading a shy brunette by the hand. The woman kept trying to hide behind his broad shoulders.
"Say hi to Tom's latest conquest, Hestia Jones," Tonks waved her hand breezily, "friend of mine from the DMLE. Quit hiding Hestia, you're an Auror for Thor's sake!"
"Nice to meet you all," she mumbled, eyes fixed firmly on the floor.
"I guess time travelling and meeting ones' heroes isn't everyone's cup of tea," the pinkette sighed, before flinging herself into the spare seat opposite the trio.
"Heroes?" Padfoot perked up. "For what?"
"Nothing you've done yet, so drop it," Nymphadora said sternly. "No getting a big head prematurely."
"Not something he has to worry about," Narcissa murmured to herself.
"Didn't Lily Luna say that you and Tom were an item, Tonks?" Harry wondered absently.
"Ancient history. It was a summer fling," Tonks shrugged. "Wallflower Hestia's a much better match for super-wizard here."
"Yes, it's amazing how much smoother a relationship goes with a girlfriend who doesn't prefer to swan around in the past all the time," Tom rolled his eyes.
"Bite your tongue," Tonks scolded playfully. "Not my fault the future is made of booooring! I became an Auror for adventure and excitement!" She whispered conspiratorially to Harry, "If I have to bust one more illegal trading card ring in Knockturn I'm going to snap and become a Dark Lady myself just to liven things up!"
"Sometimes boring is good," Harry intoned sagely.
"Yeah you just keep telling yourself that, Rat-boy. What's that you're going through?"
"Some mail from Britain. At the last stop, I was attacked by a rather irate Post owl."
"I'd imagine trying to chase a bullet train across Japan would be both exasperating and tiring for the poor thing," Narcissa commented, snuggling back against her fiancé.
"Gimme gimme!" Tonks snatched the papers out of his hand and shamelessly rifled through them. "What's this?" holding aloft a sealed envelope.
"Why don't you tell me, Nym?" Harry pricked his finger and reached over the distance between them, letting a couple drops of blood fall onto the seal. The Auror tore it open and scanned through the letter.
"It's from Aunt Hermione. Things are going well, she and Lockhart have cleared out a lot of the Death Munchers hiding out in the Ministry. There are plans afoot to shake things up even further. She's got a bunch of questions for you."
"Shoot."
"Would you do something you'd rather not do if you knew it would defeat the Dark Lords?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Second is, would you try something you didn't think you were ready to try or something you never ever thought about trying in order to beat him?"
"What's this all about?"
"She doesn't say. Well?"
"Yes. To both."
"Last question, would you share something that you'd normally want to keep to yourself if it meant you could help your friends with something important?"
"Hermione knows that anything she needs to use of mine, I would gladly drop in her lap at a moment's notice, if it'd help with her projects."
"Guess you know her too well, and vice versa," Tonks grinned. "The next bit says that assuming you say yes to all of the above, she needs your authority for the HAHA to use all the gold in the Black and Malfoy vaults in Britain and Japan for some unstated project, and also your approval for them to nab a few more Death Nibblers to run experiments on for another unstated project. She promises you won't regret either–"
"Stop," Harry said with a smile. "Tell her that I agree to whatever it is she's planning as long as she promises that I can sleep on her couch or floor if she drains my accounts dry."
Tonks smiled back. "If she's planning what I think she is you won't have to worry about sleeping on any floor or couch ... unless you do something stupid, that is."
"What does that mean?" Harry blinked.
Tonks and Tom shared a significant glance. "You'll find out," the metamorphmagus smirked, extracting a quill and parchment from her voluminous pockets.
"Mental," Sirius shook his head.
"Getting worse anyway," Harry agreed.
"There's also a comment that she's put a couple named Vernon and Petunia to work for the HAHA's new 'commercial' branch in addition to their work in the 'black ops' branch, whatever that means. Hopes you don't mind."
"Hmmmm. Now that I think about it, I never did get around to wreaking unholy punishment on those bigoted bastardly muggle relatives of mine, did I?" Harry mused. "I kinda got sidetracked with the Gourmands of the Grave attacking the Evanses and all. Completely forgot afterwards."
"Not to mention whenever Lily Evans is around, she tends to suck up all your attention," Narcissa pointed out. "No wonder you forgot about some colourless muggles."
"Really? I do that?" he shot her a quizzical look.
"The fact that you don't even notice it happening is pretty damning evidence, lover-boy. Face it, you've been hung up on her for months now. Men," she sighed, "always so oblivious to the obvious."
"And that's just the way we like it," Padfoot declared proudly. "Makes life so much easier to just bypass all that emotional shite and get on with the fundamental things of life!"
"That just raises so many disturbing implications it's not even funny," Harry muttered to himself. "What the hell is happening between us? I hope Lils knows because I haven't a clue how to deal with this …"
Narcissa rolled her eyes. "What's to deal with? I saw that hug she gave you at the train station; nobody else was deemed worthy of one. Next time you greet each other, just sweep her into a hug and snog her daylights out."
"This is all I need, more complications in my life," he groused. "Can't the two of us be close without all this entanglement stuff? Where's Pandora when I need her? She's my go-to for fixing the problems in my social life … ouch!" He rubbed his smarting shoulder.
"Are you a man or a mouse?" Narcissa demanded severely. "Get up off your lazy rodent behind and sort your household out. Do you think your women enjoy floating about in limbo around you, like the universe's most aimless solar system?"
Harry's jaw worked, but he honestly had no idea how to reply to that.
"As funny as it is watching Uncle Pete get chewed out yet again for his inconsiderateness, what should I write in our response letter?" drawled Nymphadora, scribbling out the reply.
Harry forcibly dragged his attention back to the far more comfortable topic of plotting gruesome revenge. "Hmmm. I don't really feel like making their life hell through curses and potions any more. They have helped a lot in beefing up the HAHA's manpower. Plus I find the whole idea of Vernon and Petunia Dursley of all people fighting Purists for the benefit of the greater wizarding world hilarious. That's something I want to encourage – oh how their counterparts in my world would flip out, if they ever had the chance to learn of it! Turning those 'normiest' of the 'normies' into champions of the freaks is far more satisfying than merely inflicting pain on their bodies and minds …" A slow smile made its way across his face. "Here's what you're going to reply to Hermione …"
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Frank Longbottom thought his pitch to Amelia Bones went over fairly well. The Head Boy and newly-appointed replacement Head Girl of Hogwarts had just concluded the latest Prefect's meeting, and he'd offered to walk her back to the Hufflepuff common room. On the way, he'd calmly delivered every reason he could think of why the remaining 'Puffs at Hogwarts (half of their number were still on exchange at other magical schools around the world) would make great additions to the Hogwarts Army. Amelia was noncommittal, but interested enough to allow him entrance to the common room and convene a meeting of the most influential 'Puffs to hear him repeat his spiel. After much discussion, the group eventually decided to accompany Frank to meet the other members of the HA and find out more about how they were countering the Purist menace, before making any final decisions. Frank discreetly used his map of Hogwarts to direct him to his closest comrades.
"Alice and James are in here."
"In a girls' bathroom?" Amos Diggory sniggered, "Wouldn't a broom closet be more appealing? Looks like you may have to pursue the other McKinnon twin instead, Frank."
The scene revealed to them when the door was opened was not, however, of an illicit liaison between the school's chief prankster and the Head Boy's longterm girlfriend. Even Frank would've been hard-pressed to predict what he was about to see. James Potter and Alice McKinnon were busily dismantling the farthest toilet (stall and all), the sink opposite it and the pipes running between them.
"Is there some reason you're breaching the privacy of the girls' bathroom and vandalising school property, Potter?" Amelia asked in a measured tone, wand already in her palm. It appeared the Marauders were up to their usual tricks again.
"Because Xeno and Marlene are busy with their paper run, which leaves me and Alice to do the dirty work," James grunted, not bothering to turn around and acknowledge the arrivals.
"I meant why are you doing it in the first place?" she demanded. "You better not be installing any more listening or monitoring charms in the female toilets and showers again, Potter, or so help me …"
James shrugged. "Wormtail wants the toilet and sink. Don't know why, didn't ask and don't want to find out. Maybe he wants to distribute autographed toilet seats, for all I know!"
"Pettigrew just wanted it? And you're going to package it up and send it to Japan no questions asked?" the Head Girl inquired dubiously. It was common knowledge around Hogwarts castle that relations had been strained, to say the least, between the two former bosom-buddies.
"Look, Pettigrew may be a soulmate-stealing backstabbing dirty rat, but he's still my friend and fellow Marauder. And he and the others are the ones putting their butts on the line over in Magical Asia; if they say they need something, I'm going to do my darndest to ensure they get it."
Finishing their excavation, the two vandals shrank the purloined materials and packed them away into an ordinary Post parcel.
"You think anyone will notice the difference?" James asked, eyeing the gaping holes in the bathroom floor.
"Nah," Alice replied dismissively, kicking the displaced tiles into the hole. "All the girls avoid this bathroom like the plague. Five galleons says Filch only notices over the summer holidays while searching for all the contraband he's certain is hidden around the school."
They turned but found their exit blocked by a rather irate Head Girl.
"Fix it – now," Amelia growled. "I wouldn't have expected any different from Potter, but I'm surprised at you, McKinnon."
The two miscreants shared a glance and an extravagant sigh.
While they were casting Reparos on the damaged floors, Frank explained to them, "Amelia and the others have agreed to hear us out about the HA. If they're satisfied with what we're doing, they've agreed to do their best to bring the rest of the 'Puffs on board."
"I see you are finally taking your Lord's words seriously and are starting to build your Hufflepuff army," came a new voice.
The students in the bathroom whirled around in alarm, dived into stalls, hid behind sinks, conjured barriers and generally prepared for the worst.
"Show yourself!" James ordered. "Who are you?"
Xiomara Zabini threw off her invisibility cloak. "Good response time, not great but good. Should've started hexing first and asking questions later, though. Nobody tried to flank me or force me to reveal myself either." Completely unfazed by the wands pointed at her heart, the Italian girl stepped lightly into the room and seated herself on the nearest sink with the air of being queen of the school.
Frank relaxed. "It's okay, she's one of us."
"Zabini. So you're back," Amelia said flatly, wand still tracking the intruder. "I was given to understand you'd withdrawn from Hogwarts."
"Temporarily, to conclude some family business," the Mediterranean girl agreed. "I'm only here now to escort my HA members to tonight's meeting. There's much to be discussed."
"That's a nice invisibility cloak," James said slowly. "Where did you get it?"
"From your trunk," she replied calmly.
"What!? It was in a locked secret compartment in my locked trunk in my locked dormroom in the locked Gryffindor Tower!"
She shrugged. "None were locked in any serious way."
"How?!"
"You seem to forget that I lived in Gryffindor Tower for several months. I'm very familiar with its warding systems."
Shushing James' spluttering outrage, Amelia growled, "Theft is a serious breach of Hogwarts regulations and the law, Zabini."
An ebony eyebrow raised. "What theft would you be referring to Miss Bones? I am merely utilising a Potter family heirloom. Who would be more entitled to it than Lady Potter herself?" She jumped down to the floor again, her heeled boots making not a sound as they hit the tiles. "Congratulations on becoming Head Girl in Lady Black's absence, by the way. Now if we've finished with the pleasantries, shall we be off? Since I'm the sole person who has no legitimate reason to be haunting Hogwarts' halls, I'll be hanging on to the Potter Cloak for the time being." She scrutinised the Hufflepuffs carefully. "I recognise you from my time as a fellow Hufflepuff: Amelia Bones, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Amos Diggory, Nigel Stanthorpe, Joneleth MacMillan, Amberlin Fletchly. Have you all made the appropriate oaths not to betray the HA? Not that it matters. I charmed the bathroom door so everyone that comes through it falls under the same sorts of spells ... now, is everyone coming to Hogsmeade for tonight's meeting?"
There was some muttering and grumbling at her presumption, but all nodded.
"Are you sure?" Zabini demanded. "Do you really want to know what goes on in the shadowy world of war and murder and intrigue? Where the stakes are high and any minute could be your last? Where forbidden and arcane knowledge is discussed? On your heads be it then, it won't be my fault if your fragile little minds shatter under the weight of the knowledge you may receive. Merlin knows, mine barely survived the first time I discovered ... The Truth."
"If anyone wishes to go back to the dorms, now is the time to do it," Amelia sighed. "As she said, if you can't accept what the HAHA has to say, you have none to blame but yourselves if you come."
Shamefaced, four members of Hufflepuff House shuffled out of the bathroom, each secure in the knowledge of their own weakness and that it was sometimes better to remain in ignorance than to gain even a fragment of an awful truth.
"Excellent," Xiomara beamed, enveloping herself in invisibility once more. "Now that we've weeded out the dregs, we can be on our way. To the Hogs' Head!"
The journey through the hidden tunnel to Honeydukes, out the back door, and into the upper room of the Hogs' Head was smooth and uneventful. Amelia Bones and Kingsley Shacklebolt found themselves sitting amongst a mélange of Hogwarts students, proprietors of Diagon stores and a motley assortment of other members of wizarding and muggle Britain. Amelia was puzzled by the agenda at first. It was unclear why arrangements to brew or procure as much Polyjuice Potion as possible, and schedules for HAHA members to visit various magical banks to exchange currency or bullion, would assist in combating the Purists' menace to society. Perhaps it was part of some clandestine intelligence-gathering operation?
Things livened up for her at the conclusion of the meeting, when Zabini waved Umbridge and Lockhart over to their corner of the room and raised a privacy shield.
"I have received word from my contacts within the vampire hierarchy," the dark-skinned girl began.
Amelia and Kingsley immediately sat up straighter.
"What's happening?" asked Umbridge. "Are they going to get off the fence to join Voldemort and Grindelwald?"
"That remains a risk, but not at this moment, no. The Volturi Conclave is far more interested in the situation developing in North America. It appears that a conflict is brewing with the Great Vegetarian Coven who control the northern half of that continent."
Lockhart snickered. "Great Vegetarian Coven? That's gotta be a joke! Least intimidating name for a gang of blood-suckers I've ever heard!"
"It is a joke of sorts; that coven only feeds on animal blood rather than human. That's about as close to a plant-consuming vampire as one can get. The GVC is made up of two sub-groups, the Denali Coven in the north and the Olympic Coven in the south. Both families try to avoid killing people for moral reasons. One of the many points of difference between them and the Volturi."
"What are the others?"
"I'm sure the fact that they are the largest and most powerful coven in the New World plays a large part," the girl replied sardonically. "But the pretext in this instance is that one of the members of the Olympic Coven has sired a vampire child."
"And that's bad?" queried Shacklebolt.
"Catastrophic. There are only three major laws in the global vampire community: stay hidden from muggles, don't infringe on another coven's turf, and never ever ever turn a baby into a vampire."
"Why not?"
"Because in every instance that it's occurred, it leads to the infringement of the previous two laws. Since vampires never age beyond the date of their siring, a vampire child never grows older or matures, they retain their base instincts: feed, and continue to feed. It typically leads to uncontrollable carnage, as the child goes on a rampage, attacking any muggle they see in order to slake their bottomless bloodlust. About 500 years ago, the Volturi laid down a rule that any undead baby and the vampire who sired it were to be executed immediately. The word is that the Volturi Conclave is currently mobilising its entire force to annihilate the GVC and its allies for the flagrant breach."
"Shite," Lockhart breathed. "An all-out vampire civil war between two of the most powerful groups."
"Indeed," replied Zabini. "It has been suggested to me that the retaliatory raid may be merely a smokescreen to cover the Volturi's forcible acquisition of certain vampires with valuable magical talents that they've coveted for years."
"What's that? Vampires can't use magic!" Umbridge blurted.
"Most can't but the very rare exceptions can," Zabini corrected.
"I've never heard of this before, and I'm the DD-DCRMC," the Ministry flunky frowned. "Are they witches and wizards who've been turned?"
"No, it cannot be predicted which vampires will demonstrate magical abilities. It seems to occur randomly regardless of whether they were a muggle, squib or wizard beforehand. If it were as simple as magic-using human turning into magic-using vampire, I've no doubt the Volturi and their Guard would've spent the last few centuries snatching and siring every magic-user they could get their fangs into, to boost their numbers. Wizards would be collected like Slug Club members, although the numbers of the Guard would be enormous by comparison. Something more like the Persian Emperor's 10,000 Immortals. Though rather more literally immortal in this case. Fortunately, they number less than 200 at present."
"That's still a lot of them. Enough to do some serious damage, even if they weren't the biggest, meanest dogs of the vampire world," Kingsley worried.
"Which is why it's a good thing that they've decided to thin out their herd for us themselves."
"The vampires' government manipulating their own sacrosanct laws for gain eh? I guess the living and the undead aren't so different after all," remarked Marlene.
"What's your proposed strategy for dealing with them?" Umbridge inquired.
"Wait for the Volturi and the GVC to battle it out and seek an alliance with whoever's left standing," Zabini replied promptly.
Alice nodded slowly. "No sense trying to build bridges with parties that may not exist before long. Especially if it means offending the victors."
"I propose a party of HA members accompany me to observe the battle and make our decisions for the best angle of approach in the aftermath. Oh, and you can tell our Lord we've discovered another bender, Lady Malfoy."
Umbridge perked up. "Like in Magical Asia?"
"Yes. Magical talent is distributed randomly around the globe, it was inevitable one would turn up in our part of the world. I'm surprised one hasn't come to light sooner."
"Where?"
"Amongst the GVC's allies. He arrived in America with three of his kin not long ago to support the Olympic Coven against the Volturi. An Egyptian vampire. Benjamin. I don't know his real name."
"What elements can he bend?"
"All of them. All the elements."
Gilderoy whistled, impressed.
"What's he like?" queried the bureaucrat.
"Short, four and a half feet or so, dark hair, olive skin. Looks like a teenager. Cheery disposition. Has a mate named Tia. May be susceptible to appeals to The Greater Good."
"A bender of that calibre would be a powerful ally for Peter," Lockhart murmured to himself.
"The other likely targets for acquisition are one Alice Cullen, the only vampire Seer on record, and the vampire child itself, called Renesmee. Aka Nessie. Its parents are likely secondary targets."
"Nessie?" Umbridge giggled, "as in the Loch Ness Monster?"
Xiomara nodded. "An appropriate name for a monster of unknown capabilities, non? It is … one can only describe it as an anomaly. Something the vampires haven't experienced before. For one thing, unlike any other of the undead, it ages – for every month of normal time, it ages the equivalent of about three months. It's estimated that within seven years it'll reach full maturity, and then stop ageing. A more important quality is its apparently extensive telepathic and empathic powers. One of its parents is a powerful Legilimens, the other is a powerful Occlumens. The offspring seems to have inherited both, and combined them in unusual ways. My contact says one touch is enough to induce anyone to love the child unconditionally, and feel they would move heaven and earth to protect it. Perhaps some sort of instinctive survival mechanism, like cats whose mews imitate the sound of human babies' cries, or reptiles who lay identical eggs in birds' nests for the mothers to raise."
"This Nessie could also be a powerful ally if used correctly," Umbridge mused, "yes … definitely potential there …"
"I'd recommend extreme caution if the HA considers that route," Zabini warned. "Unknown persons can result in extremely unpredictable situations."
"Agreed. Alright, I think you've got a good plan. When to we have to leave?"
"This weekend seems the likeliest time for the confrontation, according to my source. It will also allow those attending Hogwarts not to be missed by the staff."
"I'll arrange for some international portkeys."
"Have them set to and from Forks, in the northwest United States."
Amelia noticed the sudden paling of the faces of Umbridge and Lockhart. The blond boy's fists clenched tightly.
"Did … did you say Forks?" he asked weakly. "As in Forks, Washington?"
"Yes. You know of it?"
"It's her, it's got to be her. She's always at the centre of anything that goes wrong," Gilderoy growled.
Umbridge sighed. "I'd really hoped, just this once, that our luck wouldn't hold true."
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"A moment, Heir Potter, if you please."
James turned to face the newly-minted Lady Potter.
"What do you want?" he asked with some distaste.
"I know you dislike the idea of me becoming your Lady," Xiomara said bluntly, "but the fact remains that I am and there's nothing anyone can do about it. I do not desire an adversarial relationship between us. Peter cares about you and wants you, and the rest of the House, to thrive. So do I. Therefore, I have an offer for you."
"What sort of offer?" James asked suspiciously. His danger alerts, and hackles, were both rising.
With a swift Muffliatio! she blocked out the sounds from the rest of the Hog's Head. "It is straightforward. Lord Potter has signed a legal agreement renouncing his Headship of the House and passing it to you as Heir on the day of your 17th birthday."
"How did you know about that?!" he blurted without thinking.
"You think my husband keeps House secrets from me?" she sniffed. "But we digress. I propose that you sign your own legal agreement deferring your acceptance of the Headship, until it can be passed down to the next generation. Your eldest son would become Lord Potter upon reaching his majority."
"What?! Yeah I bet you'd like that, wouldn't you Durmstranger," he sneered, "supplanting me in my own House. I really expected you to be more subtle about your attempted line theft than asking me upfront to just hand over the keys to the kingdom."
"It is not my intention to cut you out of anything," Zabini replied patiently. "The Lordship would never depart from your direct family line. You haven't heard the rest of my offer. In exchange, we will sign a contract betrothing my eldest daughter to your eldest son. That will ensure line continuation and join our families together into one. Preventing the development of branch houses or cadet lines, and all the backbiting and jealousy that they engender. I will also sign, along with Lord Black, a contract ensuring that you receive a generous monthly allowance for the rest of your days that will provide you with the resources to live whatever sort of life you desire, without the need to worry about money or employment. You could focus on a professional Quidditch career, or explore the world, or set up a pranking supplies business, or run children's parties, or simply live as a wealthy gadabout and man of leisure. Whatever you desire."
"If you're suggesting I'm some sort of lazy layabout who refuses to do a day of work in my–"
"Of course," she continued smoothly, "I can also use my family's extensive contacts to help you find jobs and parts of the world that desperately need the help of a powerful pureblooded wizard. Lands in Africa that are terrorised by nundu, places in Russia that are filled with rogue dragons and giants who need to be slain, orphanages and poorhouses in chaos that need to be reorganised, and most of all, battles that need to be fought and dark wizards to be brought to justice. This current war is only one example. Removing the threat in Mahōnihon is our highest priority, but there are many more conflict zones around the world, filled with people who cry out for a saviour."
"You make me sound like an aspiring superhero," he mumbled.
"Regardless of what your dreams may be, the choices before you are: sitting here playing dolls and quaffles with a bunch of high school students, achieving nothing of any particular note (considering all the most dangerous people in Hogwarts have already been removed by my husband) or taking me up on my offer and doing something actually useful with whatever time you have left on this plane of existence."
"I can't just up and leave Britain whenever I feel like it! My parents –"
"– don't even have to know you ever left," Zabini finished, beginning to unbutton her blouse.
"Hey wait a minute!" James objected in alarm at this shameless hussy's behaviour. They were standing in the middle of a crowded conference room for Merlin's sake! "I may be a bit of a horndog, but there's no way I'm going to agree to a tumble with you in exchange for doing what you want …" James trailed off as he saw the golden device she'd fished out of her impressive cleavage. His eyes widened. "A time turner! How did you get a Class I restricted item?"
"A gift from my Lord Potter," she purred, "along with many other useful items. As a proper Head should, he provides the faithful members of his household with valuable and powerful tools to complete their tasks. With this, you can travel for up to five weeks and return to Hogwarts the same day you left, with nobody the wiser."
"You're trying to trick me somehow, but I'm not going to fall for it!"
She cocked an eyebrow. "Am I? Are my terms so onerous? You hate filling out paperwork, you hate dealing with finances, you hate negotiating with the goblins, you hate instructing lawyers, you hate attending meetings, you hate spending time with stuffy old Wizengamot members. Being Head of House mandates copious amounts of all six of the above. There have been some whose entire lives have been eaten up by paperwork. I don't think anyone has seen Lords Bones or Diggory in public for decades for that very reason. Is that really the life you want to live? I'm offering to take it all off your hands."
"And you know all this about me how?" he drawled.
"It's perfectly obvious; you don't hide your feelings in the slightest," she replied offhandedly.
"I … I'm going to have to think about this …" he muttered to himself.
"Take what time you need. Consider your participation in our upcoming jaunt to Forks as an appetiser of the kind of benefits I can provide you with. A taste of the life of adventure and excitement, and most of all, of making a difference in the world, that I can offer you."
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Hermione adjusted her Omnoculars to get a better view of the terrain. Of the motley assortment of vampires gathered in loose clumps that dotted the field and wooded hills surrounding the Cullens' mansion. Beside her, Xiomara and Alice were peering through their own pairs.
"It's just like a night out at the opera," Hermione joked to the Italiana and Englishwoman.
"I once saw an opera performed by vampires," Xiomara mused. "It was in Paris. The climax of the final act of Tristan and Isolde featured both of the leads being fed upon until they were dead; for extra realism, you understand."
"Er … right … hopefully the same doesn't happen tonight …"
"Can we have a gander?" James asked Alice. "I can't see anything from this distance. Just a bunch of black dots on a white meadow."
"You, Marlene and Gilderoy should've brought your own," Alice said primly. "What, did you think we were going to pitch a wizarding tent right in the middle of the battlefield so you could have a good view of the bloody carnage with your naked eyes?"
"I protest," snarked Marlene, "that was a Yule present to both of us."
"One you said you'd never be seen dead with, it being such an ugly device and all. I remember it explicitly."
James and Marlene sighed and settled back down.
"See anything yet?" Ron asked impatiently.
"No, they're all still standing around. No Volturi yet," said Alice.
"They're not even going to dig in? Set up some strong points, reinforce their front lines, lay out traps and barriers, dig some trenches, organise staging positions for their reserves?" the former Junior Auror demanded.
"Doesn't look like it," Hermione commented after a minute of scrutiny.
"This isn't going to end well," Ron muttered shaking his head. "And they haven't even spotted our crows' nest, either – they haven't, have they?" he asked, handling his wand nervously.
"Considering we haven't been desanguinated or imprisoned in a very small dog-carrier, I'm going to say, probably not."
He sighed in relief. "You see, it's Amateur Hour. If these Volturi Guardsvamps are even halfway competent, this is going to be the most one-sided fight since Mundanus Muggle challenged Merlin to a duel over grazing rights at Tintagel."
"Edward Cullen has arrived," Xiomara murmured.
"That's him?" Hermione said. "Now there's a face I never thought I'd see again!"
"What is it?" demanded Ron.
"This vampire looks exactly like Cedric Diggory!"
"Really? Let me see!"
Hermione generously allowed her boyfriend to use her Omnoculars to view the doppelgänger for himself.
"Damn, he really does resemble Cedric! Uncanny valley!"
Hermione retrieved her magical goggles and returned to her scrutiny of the field. "I see a black-haired female," she announced. "She's taking up a position on the centre front."
"So is it her?"
Hermione's voice hardened. "Yes, it's Bellatrix Black. No doubt about it."
Ron sighed. "Even dropped into the middle of muggle nowhere, that woman never stops causing us headaches! What other 'muggle' would spend the last two years of her life doing nothing but cause metamagicophysical trouble! Not only shack up with the local vampire coven, not only shack up with the local werewolf cult, not only get herself turned into an undead blood-sucker, but also manage to single-handed kickstart the biggest vampire civil war in several hundred years!"
Zabini cast him a quick glance. "Eleazar tells me that your Bellatrix was also involved in instigating an inter-coven turf fight in Phoenix, near-exposure of the existence of vampires to the muggles of Volterra, a near-war between the vampires and the tribe of werewolf animagi, and an actual battle royale between covens and between the animagi, right here in Washington."
Ron groaned. "'What could go wrong?' indeed … I think that witch has had more exciting sixth and seventh years in muggle school than even we did at Hogwarts! Why did we ever underestimate the vortex of chaos that is Bella? I'm sorry, honey."
"For what?"
"It was my idea to dump her here. I swear, I had no idea this place was a hotbed of vamps and animagi!"
"It's okay, I thought we wouldn't have to worry about her anymore either. We both got overconfident." Hermione adjusted her Omnoculars. "She's moving into the centre with the rest of the Olympic coven," Hermione reported, "with The Thing on her back. Just behind the first defensive line."
"I see them," Xiomara replied. "Eleazar is in the forward rank in front of her. Carmen is nearby." The girl's voice was tight with stress.
"I'm sure they'll be fine," James said awkwardly.
Zabini didn't answer, but her jaw clenched tighter.
"Here comes one of the animagi. Merlin, it's the biggest werewolf I've ever seen, gotta be at least triple Remus' height and mass! Maybe more." Hermione stared in awe at the giant russet beast that trotted lightly along the snow, leaving barely a footprint. "It's flanking Bella, Eleazar and Her. Wait a time-turning-tic, something else is out there in the woods!"
"The Volturi advance guard have arrived," Zabini said grimly. The three witches could see the numerous shapes flowing with liquid speed out of the treeline. They moved in loose rank to take up position facing the rows of defenders. No man's land was a distance of about 500 feet. The creatures were dressed in white and grey robes, blending into the snowfall and making it difficult for the observers to discern any features, or do a bodycount. The next wave was easier to discern, they were wearing black cloaks with red and gold trim that stood out starkly against the fresh snow. "I see the Conclave, all five of them. Looks like Alice Cullen's visions were correct after all."
"The Guard are forming into maniples," Alice observed. "Slowly. They don't seem to be in any hurry."
"The pace of the invincible," Xiomara muttered.
"What's that?"
"Nothing, just something Eleazar said to me once."
"I count 32 of the black-robed ones, including the five Conclave members. I assume they're the elite Guard," Hermione said. "No idea how many infantry in support."
"I concur," agreed Alice.
"How many defenders?" demanded Ron.
"19 forward troops, seven in reserve, plus 10 werewolf animagi," Alice replied. "Wait, here come another seven animagi to join the others."
"43 against over 100, maybe," Ron mused. "3 to 1 odds, and no home-field advantage. Not good."
"Mexican standoff," murmured Hermione.
"Something is happening," Xiomara said. "Mind magic is being deployed by one of the Volturi Guard."
"How can you tell?" queried Hermione. "I don't see anything."
"Mage Sight," the Italian beauty said concisely.
"From this distance?" Marlene blurted in incredulity. "And without an incantation?"
"I do not require spellcasting to activate it," she replied loftily. "My husband is not the only person whose ancestors bound magical talents permanently to their bloodline."
"What a brilliant idea; never to be caught off-guard by invisible jinxes or traps." Alice's admiration was palpable.
"It has its uses," Xiomara said modestly. "One of which is to tell me that one of the Volturi females is attempting a psychic assault … it must be Chelsea. Eleazar told me she is used as an opening salvo, to rend their opponents' social and interpersonal bonds. To destroy their cohesion by removing their love for each other …"
"Horrible," Alice shuddered. "To have your loved ones cut out of your heart …"
"I can think of some advantages of that spell," James muttered morosely.
The other two boys stared quizzically, but the sixth-year Gryffindor boy refused to elaborate.
"Her magic … it's being blocked!" Xiomara suddenly announced.
"How?" Hermione frowned, eyes searching in vain for a hint of what Zabini was describing.
"A magical shield has formed over a large section of the defenders' terrain. It's strong enough to deflect the bombardment … Jane has begun her psychic assault now … it is also being blocked successfully."
"What sort of mind magics does Jane specialise in?" asked Hermione.
"Pain. Indescribable pain. Some say that she can induce sensations equivalent to the Cruciatus Curse."
Hermione went green. "I'm sorry I asked," she muttered.
"Now it is Alec's turn to try to breach the shield … I see … I see a transparent haze rolling over the meadow like mist." Xiomara's eyes widened. "The bender, Benjamin, is taking action. He's stirring the wind – he seeks to bend the air to blow the mist away.
"Is it working?" breathed James. The boys waited with bated breath.
"No. It has no effect on the mist …" she trailed off as the three girls witnessed a deep, narrow fissure opening up across no man's land. The ground writhed and twisted and tore up on either side of the rift. They could feel the tremors in the earth even from their crows' nest atop their tree. "Seems he's shifted to earth bending now … the mist has reached the shield … it is also blocked! Never have I heard of such a psychic barrier. It is as if someone has found a way to project their Occlumency shields out into the real world! I must discover the secret of this spell!"
"Who's casting it?" Alice asked.
"I cannot tell. Not even my Mage Sight can penetrate the barrier; all within it appear as muggles to me!" Xiomara grit her teeth in frustration.
Alice opened her mouth to say something, but snapped it shut as five new vampires sprinted into the field and joined the defenders. All dark-haired. Two pale, three very swarthy. They moved with blinding speed.
"Alice and Jasper Cullen have arrived!" Zabini announced. "And they've brought more allies. They've entered the shield; I cannot see anything more."
"Each side is sending a party out to parley," Hermione added.
There was a long period of silence.
Finally Ron could take the suspense no longer. "Alright, spill already! I can't take it any longer! What's going on, Hermione?"
"Nothing! Nothing is going on, Ronald! They're just standing around and talking! I promise I will tell you if anything else happens, okay?" his girlfriend snapped testily.
Ron flinched, but quickly rallied. "Well in that case, I'm going to take a nap. Wake me when everyone's stopped yakking and started warring."
With that, he lay himself down on the wooden floor of the platform, and promptly drifted off. An indeterminate amount of time later, he was roused to reality by Marlene shaking his shoulder.
"Blgah?"
"Yes, it's all over," the (slightly) younger McKinnon twin replied.
"It's done?" Ron demanded, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "How many left alive?"
"All. All of them live. They did nothing but talk, and now the Volturi and their Guard have departed."
"Well, that was anticlimactic. Not even a one-on-one champions' duel. What a gyp!" Ron grumbled.
"Honestly, Ronald! This isn't the Quidditch World Cup on the Wireless!" Hermione chided impatiently.
"I figured Bellatrix would at least try to kill one or two of the Volturi as an opening gambit," he said defensively. "Ensure there's a few vampires less in the world. She's picked a fine time to learn restraint!"
"A lesson learned better late than never, non?"
The six wand-wavers started at the unfamiliar voice. Jerking around, they spotted two faces hanging upside down outside their treetops platform.
"Eleazar! Carmen! You are unhurt?" squealed Xiomara, hurrying over to them.
"Kol b'seder! Nobody has a scratch; this balagan has been successfully resolved without bloodshed, mi pequeña," smiled Carmen.
The two vampires pushed off their branches, twisted their lithe forms in mid-air to drop lightly onto their feet on the platform.
"Now that you are here amici, I need your assistance – I need an introduction to the bambina, Renesmee."
The two vampires shared an uneasy glance. "I don't think that is wise, mija. The Child is dangerous! One touch and she will wrap your volition around her little finger. Even now, we feel the overwhelming need to care for and protect her. It is a consuming fire that burns endlessly within us, even as we speak."
"I shall be careful. I have practised Occlumency since I was six years of age. But it is imperative I speak with her; her aid could change the course of the war! Yalla!"
"And I need to speak with the Egyptian Benjamin," Hermione piped up. "His help would be invaluable."
"I have a bad feeling about this," Eleazar muttered to his wife, looking over the sea of implacable young faces.
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The trees flashed past as the two vampires leaped from branch to branch to boulder, their burdens not slowing them down a fraction. Tucked under each of Eleazar's arms were nestled Xiomara and James. Ron clung to his back piggy-back style, his arms and legs clutched tightly over the vampire's neck and waist. Alongside Eleazar ran Carmen, who was carrying in a similar manner, Hermione, Alice and Marlene. They ran together for some distance, until Carmen Zabini peeled off to the right to head to the Cullens' mansion where Benjamin and his coven were staying. Eleazar Sanguini continued on straight. Eventually they left all signs of civilisation behind.
"My father Carlisle told me that Bella, Edward and The Child have retired to Edward's cottage in the mountains to celebrate their victory. I have been there before." He grimaced. "Hopefully we do not intrude at an awkward time. And hopefully they are in a mood to hear your words."
"Maybe he has a point," said Ron nervously. "The last thing we want to face are a family of cranky, nigh-invulnerable blood-suckers in the middle of the night!"
"The immortal undead do not sleep; and they have infinite time to sate their carnal lusts," Xiomara replied, unmoved. "Meanwhile, war rages around our loved ones; we owe it to them to see it to as swift a conclusion as possible."
Ron couldn't argue with that.
Travel by vampire was nowhere near as rapid as by phoenix, yet Eleazar was no slouch, and it was a mere 15 minutes later that the Sanguini nodded with his head to indicate their destination. The cottage was a picture-postcard of perfect peace in the silver-blue night, set into the steep side of a mountain.
"We have arrived," announced, slowing down. He deposited his three burdens near the front door and approached. His sharp vampiric ears caught the almost-silent sound of Kindred movement inside. Soft words reached him. "A night for celebrations," husked a masculine voice, followed by the sound of lips smacking. Alarmed, Eleazar hurried to knock on the door before things inside could progress any further.
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Ron couldn't help but stare at what had once been a sleek engine of destruction, the Doom of All Muggles, the Valkyrie of Villainy, the most feared and hated Death Eater of all time, Bellatrix Lestrange. She was looking so … so … domestic! Even though two years had passed (from her point of view), the changes were dramatic. Clad in silken pink nightgown, hair casually tied back into a ponytail, leaning back casually on the sofa, legs tucked under her. Though clearly profoundly irritated by their presence in her love-nest, Bella looked far more relaxed and even-tempered than he'd ever seen her. Who knew that getting one's whole life obliviated, being turned into a vampire, bearing a bizarre half-vampire child, and averting a major vampire war did such wonders for one's sanity and temperament!? Perhaps he should contact St Mungos about this discovery.
And sitting beside her was her husband, the Cedric Diggory doppelgänger. Cedric and Bellatrix, now there was a weird pairing! Just when Ron thought he'd reached the bottom of the rabbit hole in this crazy dimension, there always seemed to be a few more feet to fall!
The vampire girl was barely paying attention to what Xiomara, Eleazar and Edward were saying around her; her placid yellow eyes were almost entirely focused on the small form of her daughter in her lap, who in turn was entirely focused on sucking her left foot. Bella idly stroked the girl's ebony locks. It seemed the Black family genes were still strong, and ran true in this latest generation. Ron had to suppress a snigger thinking about how Orion and Walburga would react to discovering that the next generation of Blacks comprised a dark creature and a dark creature hybrid! A hybrid who was the pretext for the aforementioned barely-averted vampire war. How in Godric's gallbladder were they supposed to convince these strangers to uproot themselves across the Pacific to help end a war in a foreign land that they had no stake in whatsoever?
Ron's speculations were interrupted as Edward stood, a smooth liquid motion, and suggested they continue the conversation outside.
Don't want your sprog hearing your discussions and getting ideas of her own, eh mate? Ron thought to himself. Probably a good idea. Then was surprised when the vampire turned to him.
"Yes, that's exactly it," Edward confirmed softly.
Ron cocked an eyebrow. "You're a legilimens eh, Cedri– I mean, Edward?" he commented, subtly raising his Occlumency shields.
"Something like that," replied Cedward. "This is a serious matter that requires much consideration, there will be no snap decisions or recklessness this time. Come." The thin, pale immortal boy led the way outside the cottage.
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"And this is a cow," James read from the Big Book of Farm Animals. "Do you know what sound a cow makes?"
"Not really," Renesmee replied. "This area has a shortage of cows."
"Uh ... I think you're supposed to say 'moo'?" James said uncertainly. "I'm not too sure though, I haven't spent much time around muggle kids your age. Vampire kids neither. The only experience I have with this sort of thing is babysitting Nymphadora, and she was only ever interested in Quidditch or imitating the pictures of celebrities in Witch Weekly."
"Why don't we just play poker or something?" she suggested.
"Would that be suitable for a kid your age?" James questioned. "The Book says it's appropriate up to age three ..."
"You could be the cool uncle that doesn't play by the rules," Renesmee offered.
"I would but then Eleazar, Gilderoy and Jacob wouldn't have anything to do," James replied sagely.
"Jacob doesn't count, he's my man-slave," Renesmee stated matter-of-factly. "Eleazar is the stuffy worrywart uncle. And as for Gilderoy … uh … I'm not sure how to say this, but I think he wants to be the creepy uncle that no-one talks about."
"Uh, Nessie, I want you to know that Lockhart wasn't always like this ..."
"He was better at hiding it?" Renesmee ventured.
"Probably, and much more creative," James agreed. "He was always a strutting ponce, but lately he keeps going further off the reservation. He's obsessed with mind magics and food these days. Worse, the guy who used to shack up with all the perfect 10's of Hogwarts is now the enthusiastic boytoy of a hideous older toad-woman. To be frank, I think getting those memories from the future really did a number on the poor sod." He shook his head in pity.
"What does all that mean?" demanded the tiny dhampir.
"Uh … nothing, never mind. Forget I said anything," James backpedalled hastily, realising he'd drifted into age-inappropriate territory. "So what d'you wanna do now?"
"Why don't we climb to the top of the peak and look at the stars together?"
"That sounds nice, but I don't want your parents to exsanguinate me," James replied dryly.
"You know they have super-hearing and can run 40 miles an hour, right? They'd be able to find us in about five seconds flat."
"Somehow I don't think that'd placate them for me leaving the cottage with their infant daughter."
"I'll explain everything if they ask. Besides, what's a mere human going to be able to do to me?"
"Gee thanks."
"Or we can say we went to the highest point to keep an eye out for enemies approaching …"
"Hmmm … Ah, to hell with it! I'm fed up with being responsible," James said suddenly, completely oblivious to the irony in that statement. "If the others won't be the rebel uncles, then I will!"
"Yay!" Renesmee cheered, "that's the spirit!"
Taking the little vampire hybrid in his arms the way he used to do with Nymphadora, he carried her out the back door and up the little trail that led to the peak. It was steep going for a mere mortal, and James found himself panting and gasping by the time they reached the summit, much to the dhampir's amusement. They found a comfortable spot and settled down to observe Nature's majesty. Down below they could hear wafting up the soft murmur of voices of the rest of the group as they debated weighty matters in front of the cottage.
"Can I ask you something?" Renesmee asked suddenly.
"Shoot."
"You strangers … I've been expecting you, you know."
"You have?" James asked in shock.
"I have. You come here to talk to my parents, but really you want me."
It wasn't a question. James answered it anyway. "Yes." There was no point dissembling or beating around the bush with Legilimens and empaths.
"Why? What do you people want from me?"
"A fair question. You know how Zabini said there's a big war far, far away?"
She nodded firmly.
"In short, we want you to come with us and … make the bad people love you and want to protect you. Then you can tell them you don't want them to fight anymore and," he snapped his fingers, "hey presto! No more war! Everyone can go home."
"Just like that? I can't wave my hands like magic and make a bunch of complete strangers love me, you know!" she huffed, tiny arms folding crossly.
"No-one's saying that," James lied.
"I'm serious! If I touch someone, I can show them my thoughts and memories and look at theirs. That's it!"
"Of course," James agreed, not believing this for a second.
"It's true," she pouted. "People argue less when they can feel each others' minds directly."
"I'm sure."
"Grrrr. You're humouring me."
"Not a bit of it! I think you haven't fully grown into your powers yet. As you get older, I'm sure you'll develop all sorts of cool new talents," he said soothingly.
"I suppose," the little dhampir conceded grudgingly.
"Just you wait, over time you'll surprise us all with what you can do!" Maybe this wasn't so different from dealing with Nymphadora after all.
"There's more," she insisted. "Alice told me a few things earlier today. Said I would be approached by foreigners with strange requests. Why me? Why us? Why now?"
"I don't know any of the details," James said slowly, "The command council of the HAHA are keeping them pretty close to the chest. But what little I know is, the Volturi Conclave were allies of Grindelwald and his forces in the 1940's. After his defeat, they retreated in on themselves, and forced all the covens in Europe to stay neutral in all subsequent wizarding and muggle conflicts. That sure helped us out a lot in the current British blood war, let me tell you! Zabini was originally planning to approach the Conclave for assistance. But now that Grindelwald's back, there's a risk that the Volturi may ally themselves with him again."
"What would they gain?" Renesmee's nose scrunched.
"A long way away is a place called Japan. And in the middle of Japan is a place called the wild regions. As its name suggests, there's very little law and order. From what I understand, the inhabitants spend most of their time fighting each other. That's where Voldemort and Grindelwald have set up camp. If they manage to carve out their own empire there, what's to stop their old allies Aro and Marcus and the rest doing the same thing? Vampirekind has spent its entire existence hiding away from human civilisation, just like it hides from the sun. Zabini told me that the Volturi are big patrons of the arts, but that's hardly a substitute for actually being a part of society, if you ask me. The chance to build an actual, bona fide vampire state out in the open, not some shadowy half-kingdom, may be extremely tempting for them." He cast a glance down at the child nestled in his lap. "Especially since the GVC have now thwarted them 'acquiring' you, your parents and Alice Cullen. That must've given them a reputational black eye. If I were the Volturi, I'd be looking for a way to regain their lost face right quick, before the rest of the covens start getting ideas about launching their own insurrections."
"And stopping the war will prevent the Volturi from building this state or empire or whatever?" she inquired, in her high-pitched voice.
"There's no guarantee," James admitted. "But with no war on, any pretext for invading a country would be gone. And without non-vampire allies to watch their backs, Eleazar thinks they'd deem it too risky to attempt. If that's true, then yes, there'd be a repeat of what happened here in Forks today: the Volturi'd be stymied from the get-go and be forced to do nothing."
They sat in silence for a while. James let the child absorb his words. He hadn't the slightest idea how intelligent or mature the dhampir infant was at this stage in her development, so he had no clue how much she understood of what he said.
She nodded. "So that's the story. No wonder Mum and Dad didn't want me around to hear it."
"Oh." Right. He'd forgotten about that part.
"Don't stress, I would've found out soon anyway."
"Can I … can I ask you something?" James began, shifting uncomfortably, eyes fixed firmly on the Dogstar.
"Yes."
"One of the vampires you guys faced today, in the Volturi Guard. Chelsea."
"What of her?"
"Zabini said she used her mind magics to … break people's bonds with others. That she could make them stop loving each other. I'm told you're some sort of super-Legilimens; a type nobody's seen before. Are you … are you able to copy what Chelsea can do?"
Renesmee frowned. "I've no idea. What a horrible thing to do to someone!"
"It can be," he said carefully. "If the person were unwilling, like your grandpa Carlisle. But what if the person wanted you to? And was happy about it ...?"
Her beady eyes widened. "Why do you want me to do this?" she demanded. "Tell me why or I won't try."
"Hey that rhymes," he smiled weakly. Nessie glared back at him. James sighed. "Fine, you win. You see, for the longest time, I've been … in love with this one girl, see? Obsessed may be a better word, in all honesty. Ever since I met her in first year really. I thought … I was convinced it was Fate or Destiny or something for us to be together … Merlin, I've no idea if you even know what I'm talking about …"
"Of course I do, Jacob is mine."
"Uh … right. Anyway, I tried everything I could think of to get her to love me back. Turns out I didn't really know what I was doing. Everything I did seemed to annoy her and push her away from me …" He sighed again. "If only I had your powers, eh?"
"Love sounds hard," the tiny dhampir pontificated.
"Very. But it's not something you'll ever have to worry about, I think. Especially if you've already netted yourself a man-slave. At age one or less, to boot!" he chuckled weakly. "The problem is, she found somebody else. She huffs and puffs about it all the time, but everyone with a single eye in their head can see a mile off how hung up on him she is. To make it worse, he's one of my best mates."
Renesmee winced in sympathy.
"I … didn't handle it well. It's taken a while, but I've kinda realised how big of a berk I've been. I've been treating them both like it was their fault, like … I dunno, that I was entitled to my dream-girl, and they both owed it to me to break things off and make sure she and I were together like we were supposed to be. And now they're all so far away, I can't even apologise for my behaviour face-to-face. I guess time and distance really do lend perspective."
"They must make a nice couple," she said wistfully.
James gave a barking laugh. "Nice? They're a terrible couple! It's the most bizarre, mismatched pairing I've ever seen or heard of in my life! What's worse is that they're not some star-crossed pair; they're part of some weird cluster relationship that involves at least three other girls!"
"What? People can do that!?" Nessie's eyes bugged out.
He shrugged. "Some do."
"That can't be correct. I've never heard of five people together at once," she frowned. "Grandpa Carlisle is with Grandma Esmee, Rosalie is with Emmett, Alice is with Jasper, Grandpa Charlie is with Sue, Carmen is with Eleazar, Mom is with Pop, and I'm with Jacob," she said with the air of one who's given the final word.
"It's rare, but it's what some folks like to do. Don't ask me to explain it, because I don't understand it any more than you do. The point is, I just … I can't let her go. I don't know what's wrong with me, I know it's pointless. They've been running around together for, what, half a year by now, and by the time they get back from Japan they'll no doubt have shared all sorts of amazing and hair-raising and bonding experiences that I don't have a prayer of competing with. But my heart just can't get over her. I …" he struggled to find the words. "I don't want to be a jackass any more. I want to stop hurting. I just want it all to … to go away!"
Renesmee pondered this.
"You don't have to decide right away. All I ask is that you consider it."
She sighed. "Alright, I'll give it a shot."
"What? Really?"
"I don't like people suffering. Especially good people. You don't think of yourself as a good person, but you are," she said matter-of-factly. "Now lean down."
He complied. The little hybrid reached up to place her tiny hand on his forehead.
"Relax. This may feel weird."
.