Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Harry Potter and the Energumen of the Elchee	By : The_Oddest_Exclamation Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 48778 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm not making any money from this because I am not J.K. Rowling.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
This story will be quite divergent from canon. There will be points where I use several familiar situations, but for the most part it’s going to be a pretty extreme Alternate Universe.
I will say that I am going to try to keep canon characters similar to their normal behavior, but their backgrounds, motivations and situations are likely to be quite different.
What that means that for people looking for the average canon rehash that makes up ninety-nine percent of the fanfiction, you should prepare to be extremely disappointed.
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Peals of thunder echoed across the faraway seas.
Vernon sighed up at the grey vaulted sky, as he stroked his bushy mustache. It wasn’t raining yet but the smell of lightning hung thick in the air, and he was sure it wouldn’t be long now.
As that thought crossed his mind, his thoughts swirled in directions he wasn’t entirely comfortable with, directions unassociated with the coming rain. But of a storm of a different type entirely.
His order had finally arrived; Themis had actually pulled though this time, which just left him with the presentation. It left a strange feeling in his gut.
He was feeling… well he wouldn’t have said he was in anticipation, because that would imply that he was excited about it. Which he would never admit to anyone, but expectation would be an acceptable term.
The time was nearly passed, it wouldn’t be long now.
Nearly ten years had gone by since the day his father had died. Val Dursley had died like he had lived, at the gates of Oslo, with an axe in one hand and a pint of mead in the other, surrounded by corpses of his enemies.
When the letter had arrived, the messenger still panting from running up the long road to his old house, and gasped out the message Vernon had never been prouder to be a Dursley. Less than a week to that day, he had watched his father’s ship pyre cast off Oslo’s shore, to sail away and carry his spirit to the distant shores. Val had been a true Norsemen to his last, and Vernon had seen to it that his father had been sent off in a befitting manner.
It had been less than an hour after that moment, when a great grey owl had glided over those attending the funeral in broad daylight. It had touched down in front of Petunia in complete silence; it had seemed to shiver for a second before it spoke in the raspy voice of an old man.
“Petunia Dursley, the High Council of Britannia’s Magistrates requests that you and your family return to your homeland, there is a most urgent matter that you and your husband must attend to.” The bird twitched before continuing. “You will meet the Headmaster at the Hog’s Head Inn, at the village of Hogsmead in Scotland.”
The bird had jerked again, harder than before, and a glowing rune flashed for a moment before its face, before vanishing. The bird seemed to find itself for a moment, then it gave him a cockeyed look and launched back into the woods without even a hoot.
Suffice to say, the funeral’s tone had been quite awkward after that.
Vernon had been severally unsettled by the message, and had been very tempted to call the whole thing a bunch of hogwash, but Petunia had been hysterical. Completely sure that she would have never been contacted unless something terrible had transpired in England.
And there really wasn’t any arguing with her when she was like that; she had that kind of effect on him.
It had been a quick and frantic journey to Britannia, and then to Petunia’s old hometown to look for her semi-estranged sister Lily. They had spent two weeks looking everywhere they both could think, asked everyone they thought might know, without success.
Truth be told, they had been ready to give up, when they had finally wandered to the place they both had wanted to avoid them most. To Hogsmead and to the Hog’s Head Inn, the owl’s instructions still clear in his mind.
The inn, as it had turned out was more of a bar, and a rather rough one at that. Vernon remembered being slightly saddened by that, thinking to himself how his father would certainly have enjoyed it.
Then, late on that cloudy night, they had been visited by one of the oldest men Vernon had ever seen. Dressed in robes bluer than the sky, under a cloak filled with twinkling stars, he had burst from the fireplace with a look that was a peculiar mixture of frustration and amusement. “It certainly look you long enough to get here, though I suppose I should have added a time in addition to the place, hmm?” His eyes twinkled merrily as he spoke this, as though his self-proclaimed mistake was more a joke than any actual fault.
The startling nature of the man’s arrival had nearly gave him a heart attack, but oddly enough neither his method of travel nor his wild choice of clothes had garnered more than a cursorily glance from the other patrons, as rough as they were.
He had introduced himself, in a rather tired voice, as Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts. Petunia of course had recognized the name immediately, as one her sister had mentioned many times in letters home when she had been a child.
He had then taken several minutes to explain the events that connected the two of them to him.
The explanation had nearly given him another heart attack. Dumbledore was a wizard, something Vernon had already suspected, but also a powerful and influential one. While he was never a stranger to the mystical, having been born in a Norse village where strange things were an almost everyday occurrence certainly helped. His interactions however, had been regulated mostly to the going on of the village druids and the occasional wyvern attack.
Suffice to say that being confronted by a man who was not just a mage, but if his wife was to be believed, was some kind of wizard monarch who held literal kings under his sway, had left Vernon with a situation he had absolutely no experience handling.
As he attempted to recover from what he believed to have been a great deal of social blundering, another gentleman burst from the fireplace.
And he was the spawn of a giant’s blood if Vernon had ever seen one! At least nine feet tall, with a braded and beaded beard that was fuller than Dumbledore’s and was coupled by a mustache that was enough to make even Vernon jealous. He had been holding a great bundle of papers in the crook of one arm and had dropped them upon leaving the fireplace, and the sight had brought a bemused smile to Albus’s wrinkled face.
When he had finished organizing his papers the Headmaster motioned for the giant to come over, and he promptly introduced himself as Hagrid, the Groundskeeper and Gatekeeper of Hogwarts. Vernon felt some of the tension ease in the man’s presence, whether from the man’s familiar drawl or the glimpse of an axe in the Nordic style in the man’s belt, he could not say.
But just as he started to relax, the Headmaster’s eyes gained a distant and tired look and he motioned for them to lean close.
“I know why you have returned here Petunia.” He had spoken softly. “And as you have likely guessed, I was the one who sent you the message.” He paused and gave Hagrid a motion to sit down. “I come bearing news, both good and bad. There has been an…” he paused, clearly thinking carefully then he seemed to reach a decision, and he quickly waved over the barmaid, a delightfully curvy maiden with caramel skin, who immediately sat four tankard of foamy beer down at their table. “There has been an accident Petunia, one that has left Lily’s husband dead.”
His wife had looked ready to burst into tears at that, but Dumbledore motioned to calm her. “Rest easily Petunia, Lily is not dead, and you may be able to see her soon enough depending on how things go in the coming months, but I am afraid there is other business we must attend to first.”
Vernon had wanted to say something about the man’s statement but thought better of interrupting the elderly monarch, though something in the twinkling of the old man’s eyes had told him that he knew anyway. “However, Lily was badly injured in the accident, and though she is expected to recover fully in time. At the moment she will be unable to care for her two children.” Albus told them, his voice making clear that he expected that they would be the ones to care for the children.
Vernon sipped the beer slowly in thought at the implication, while Hagrid emptied his pint in one humungous gulp, looking ready to burst into tears himself at the mere mention of the mysterious accident.
The old wizard leaned in closer, and when he spoke he did so in a hoarse whisper. “I will not go into the details of the accident here, as it would be both dangerous and inappropriate. But it does involve the twins, and if the details were to become common knowledge, I would fear for their safety even if they were under my gaze every moment for the next decade.” He finished his whispering in time for the caramel skinned barmaid to bring Hagrid another drink. This time, the girl brought him an entire pitcher, which certainly seemed to better fit the giant’s hands and thirst better.
He motioned to the bundle of papers Hagrid had set on the table. “But I think I have a solution, one which goes in hand with an extremely generous proposal for the two of you.”
He slid a piece of parchment from the stack. “Those I represent will not only pay off whatever current debts you have managed to accumulate, we are ready to do you one better.” Then he had shot them a wink, and Vernon realized that the man’s voice was the same as the one the owl had spoken in. “If you agree to my conditions, I will make you, Vernon Durley the Duke of Shetland. It is a modestly sized island just north of Britannia. The previous Duke died not a month ago from Glow Pox, and as he was the last of his line I have currently found myself in need of an immediate replacement.”
Albus gave them a knowing smile and shrugged casually. “I personally never liked Palaver very much, and with everyone breathing down my back to get a replacement for him, I figured that I could kill two birds with one stone.”
Petunia had gasped at the news, and Vernon had nearly fallen from his chair at the revelation, but the old man had motioned for them to let him finish. “All I ask from the two of you is that you raise Lily’s children there with you until ten years has passed, at which point they will be ready to return to Hogwarts.”
He had accepted the offer of course, while both he and Petunia had been shocked and almost dumbstruck, but it would have been madness to refuse an offer like that. Even if the circumstances had seemed less dire.
“Very good,” Dumbledore had smiled at him after he finished signing his name. “You two have done this country a service today, and I will long remember it.” He tapped his temple with a bony finger. “Tomorrow morning you will meet Hagrid here, and then he will take you to your homeland to retrieve your son. It is my understanding that he is currently staying with your sister Vernon?” He asked, and then continued without waiting for a reply. “Then the three of you will be taken to the island by means of a special type of magical transportation.”
Then, the old wizard rose from his seat, and after wishing them both a good evening, he beckoned for Hagrid to follow him back into the inn’s fireplace.
Ten years had passed since that dim evening in the inn, ten years since Hagrid had arrived in the crisp of the morning and taken them to Oslo to retrieve Dudley, and then to Shetland with nothing more than a short song and a disorienting blur of color.
The first sight that had greeted them in Shetland was a modest stone keep atop a low hill. Surrounded on one side by crisp, green forests and hemmed in on the other by a sleepy little port. Then Hagrid had beckoned them straight down the cobblestone path to the keep, rattled the entire building with his knocks, and then turned to them with a look of mirth. “Just you wait Dursley, I’ll have you know that Trude here makes the best darn Ale in all of Britannia.” He gave a chuckle. “Used to work at the Cock & Bull she did!”
Nearly a full minute later the door had opened to a rather frazzled woman in her early forties. “Oh, Hagrid it’s you!” Annoyance then darkened her features. “And are you mad man! I just put those two to sleep and there you come, pounding on the door like a bloody battering ram, nearly brought the whole place down you did!” She growled out in a thick accent, poking him in the chest repeatedly.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Ow, Trude spare me beard!” He pleaded with the incensed woman.
Petunia adjusted her hold on Dudley and chose that moment to cough, interrupting the woman’s reach for her broom, probably to bludgeon Hadrid with.
“Oh, that’s right.” The cowering giant rose back to full height with a bright smile. “These are the Dursley’s. That’s Petunia, she’s Lily’s sister.” He fiddled with the beads in his facial hair. “And yesterday Dumbledore named her husband Vernon the new Duke of Shetland!” He finished, now in an excited manner.
“Oh for the love of Circe, I can never believe the nerve of that man.” Trude ran a hand through her slightly greying hair. “Well come on in, I suppose I should introduce you to Yorik. He’ll get you familiarized with the estate.” She paused and glared at Hagrid who was almost literally bouncing in excitement. “And for goodness sake man, try to be quiet!”
He gave her a good natured smile. “Oh come on love, I said I was sorry.”
What followed had been the single best cup of ale Vernon had ever had, which was certainly saying something, considering that he was a mead drinker through and through.
After Trude had set them by the fireplace with their drinks, while she shot a still apologetic Hagrid a bemused glance, before walking over to a corner of the large room and jabbing the ceiling with her broom. “Yorik, you sleepy lay about! Get up, get up!” she hissed, jabbing the ceiling again. “The new Duke just arrived.”
What followed was a crash from the upper room and the sound of rustling papers. “And Zeus’s beard man how much did you drink last night?” She hissed up into the ceiling.
This was followed by another crash. “And be quiet!”
The thin, greybeard that tumbled down the stairs seemed to be even more excited than Hagrid had been. “How are you sir I am Yorik the head bookkeeper of the Saltstone Keep which is the only keep in Shetland. The Duchy will be lucky to have you sir I can already tell; the quality of your mustache betrays your competence.”
Vernon had said the only thing that made sense in that moment. “For goodness sake man, take a breath before you pass out.” Then he had blinked and gave it a stroke. “You really think so?”
The second meeting was much longer and more in depth than the first had been that night in the pub. Hours of discussion about taxes and the mood of the peasantry, the next crusade, which was likely to be in only a few short years if the Holy Romans kept to their usual cycle. Dumbledore, he had been told, usually kept a good grip on those sorts of things, but Vernon figured the future could change easily enough.
That had been the first night of the strangest ten years he could have ever dreamed possible. Shetland was a fairly genial land, which was to say that it was extremely easy to rule. Vernon often thought that the offer had less to do with him making a good duke, although everyone did seem to think he managed the Duchy fine enough, and more to do with the old man’s influencing events to keep a closer eye on the Potter twins.
Not that the old man had ever visited them, though Hagrid came by often enough, both helping him to train Dudley and partially to keep an eye on the twins, which seemed to amuse them both greatly.
And by Odin’s beard, the children were strange. Not his Dudders of course, he was already set to become a fine lad, built like an ox and progressing well with his weapon and craftsmanship training. But by the gods, Lily’s spawn were a pair of changelings or his name wasn’t Dursley.
Though the two had certainly made the last decade interesting, he was sure of that much.
That wasn’t to say that he wasn’t proud of the pair, he could never bring himself to not be been proud of anything he raised. But they were such an odd couple, so different from the children he had interacted with before, that he had often felt that it was hard for him to interact with them in any meaningful way.
They both shared oddly thin figures for how much they ate, which was sometime more than Dudley. They shared being small, thin and wiry with huge staring eyes, that Vernon was convinced were an unnatural shade of green, but that was where the physical similarities between the two ended.
The oldest, by a few minutes, was Harry. He was calm, and relaxed, though hard working, and was most easily identified by his messy black hair that had always been in disarray. At seven he had finally broken down and bought the boy a comb, encouraging him to grow it long and comb it out so he could braid it like a proper Norsemen, and the boy had taken his advice gladly.
It was an event that Vernon felt marked the closest he had ever come to connecting with him, outside of the weapons training he had put all three of them through.
And the younger of the twins Violet, was well on her way to being a hedonist; with only her frizzy red hair warning whoever she was bearing down on next to brace themselves. Her appearance almost always seemed to precede some new outbreak of chaos, and the girl seemed to live for pleasures. Which drove hard on Petunia and Trude’s tattered nerves.
And the two were about as Fey as he had ever heard of! Up all night, and often out all day, they would return home many evenings with grass stained feet and hands. The pair didn’t even eat normally, often refusing meals at random and instead digging up the nearby village’s gardens, and apparently eating vegetables raw, if Yorik was to be believed.
While Vernon felt he certainly could get behind the pillaging, he sincerely wished that the pair would steal something other than vegetables.
Harry didn’t even seem to want to get into fights! “What right minded boy didn’t want to fight?” He had often thought to himself after finishing the training sessions he had had been taught were so necessary to a proper upbringing, or on long nights waiting for Yorik to return with stacks of various papers and documents that he would have to read through and sign.
Trying to figure them out was a wellspring of madness, something he had absolutely no experience in. The only one who seemed to keep them entertained was Hagrid, on his occasional visits, and even he was at a loss at anything beyond singing tuneless songs or bringing them trinkets that would hold their attention.
All combined, had been nearly enough to drive him mad, but he had persevered. He had pulled through, and delivered on his promise to the old mage.
And now those ten years were almost up.
§
Harry had been having a great dream. He had dreamt that he had been floating in a pinkish void, surrounded by the congeries of iridescent ovals that were the spirits of the woods, and that those same trees were singing all around him. Calling out to him to hear the tales they could tell, of all that they had been witness to in their lengthy lives.
It had been one of his strangest yet, and it had been ended as many of his dreams did, with an incessant pressure on his mind from far away. His twin probing him awake wasn’t exactly a new experience for him though, it happened almost every day actually.
He felt his Dreamlands fleeing him with a feeling not unlike falling, as the colors of the waking world rushed up to meet him.
As his senses came back to him he opened his eyes to find his entire view was brilliant green eyes. Violet was literally nose to nose with him.
Being this close to her let him feel the echoes of her amusement pinging through his head. Her face shifted and she rubbed her nose against his, her freckles danced under her eyes and he felt her tongue slid across his lips as she licked hers, so close was her face to his own.
Bare flesh shifted against bare flesh, and Harry sat up on the fleece they had been sleeping on, carefully sliding her from his stomach and into his lap. Violet shot him a shit-eating grin, and he could feel her triumph through their bond, she thought that he was going to give her exactly what she wanted.
But he wasn’t the responsible one for nothing. “We’ll have to go back soon Vi.”
His sister shook her head, brushing her nose against his, still eye to eye with him. “I don’t wanna, I’m not finished.” She punctuated her rebuff by planting her knees firmly on either side of his thighs, and making her little hopping motions, trying to create more of the friction she so desired.
Harry ignored the sparks of pleasure echoing through his body and focused on his soreness. It made denying her easier. “Violet, we have a birthday to get to,” he slipped his arms under her shoulders sliding her up and off him, while ignoring their combined stickiness that coated his groin, and now his stomach, with a practiced ease, “our birthday, in case you’ve forgotten already.”
He gave her a sly look as she slid a finger though that wetness, ever eager for another taste. “And you already finished… repeatedly. Or did you forget that too?”
Violet sighed theatrically and flopped back down on the fleece. “I seem to have such a short memory lately Harry, maybe you could help me jog it?” Her eyebrows wiggled like a pair of orange caterpillars dancing, as she arched her back and tried to tempt him for the second time in as many minutes.
Harry smiled back. “Then maybe you should wash those cobwebs from head, you dirty little minion.” He replied underhandedly and proceeded to shove her off the fleece, giggling as she rolled with a squawk over the edge of the riverbank and splashed into the creek. Then he rolled up the fleece and crawled at a sedate pace to the water’s edge.
He watched as his sister surfaced with a great deal of sloshing, frizzy hair soaked like a sponge, and shooting him an irate glare. “You do realize, that when you least expect it, I will have my revenge.” She growled at him, trying to be intimidating.
“Sure you will Violet.” He continued grinning, staying just beyond her arms reach to avoid making it too easy.
After they finished washing off, dressing, and he stashing their fleece at the roots of a great pine tree, the pair made their way back through the woods to the keep they called home.
Harry smirked as they walked back; he could see Violet making a pointed effort not to look at him. But he could feel the echoes of her mind in his; she was trying to stay mad.
She would fail in time of course, she always did, but that didn’t make it any less fun to tease her. Nor was it any less adorable, when she squeaked at the hand he laid on her shoulder.
He pulled her close to him and he closed his eyes, concentrating on the feeling of his sister’s core, using tendrils of his own core to caress hers.
Violet gasped cutely, and trembled at the sensation. Harry smiled and pulled her closer as she shivered harder. “Harry, I’m going to kill you.” She hissed back, as he pressed his strands against her core more adamantly. “And I thought that we were in such a big hurry.”
He smirked into her neck. “Come in sis, you know that I’ll always have time for you.” She moaned at his declaration, and slumped back against him.
“Harry if you keep saying things like that, we’re defiantly going to be late.” He felt her core open up to his caresses, but he carefully backed his tendrils away, smirking as she moaned in frustration, while he helped straighten her up.
After her tabard was back in order, he defended his actions while she shot him another pout. “Somehow, I don’t think Trude would take us being late today very well.”
§
When they finally returned, Harry was very glad they hadn’t allowed themselves to fall for distractions on the path back. Trude was standing vigil at the door to the keep; the old woman had bundled herself up with all the ferocity of a knight expecting to fight to the death. And she was glaring at them again, which in itself wasn’t unusual, but she wasn’t normally radiating quite this much frustration.
She called out as soon as she saw them. “Hurry up you two, you still need to get ready.” Then she actually gasped as they got closer and she saw the state they were in, barefoot and covered in grass stains.
Trude glared at him and massaged her temples, then seemed to make an active effort to calm down, Harry felt like she failed. “Where in Zeus name have you two been?” She shouted, her voice cracking the air like a whip. “Any other day and I wouldn’t have even cared, but you both need to be ready to go in less than an hour! And you come back barefoot, and covered in grass stains with dirt on your clothes!” She swooped out and them both by the hair, dragging them inside.
“Ow, Trude be gentler. We didn’t mean to be out so late.” Violet pleaded with their matron, more in exasperation than pain.
Trude stopped just short of the threshold and sniffed Harry’s hair. “And you both smell like fish!” She exclaimed.
It was Harry’s turn to attempt placation. “That’s probably from the stream.” He said, while she hissed at his declaration, and continued to drag them both by the hair into the wash room, where the scent of pine coming from the hot water was almost overpowering.
“Well strip and get in!” The matron said, with her hands on her hips.
The pair gave her a blank look, subconsciously pulling their cores even further apart in caution.
Trude scowled at them. You each would have had time to have one for yourself, but you both came back so late.” The ornery woman grumbled at them as they mechanically stripped, and entered the wooden tub.
The washing off was a quick and mechanical affair, punctuated by Trude attempting to snip Violet’s orange tangles into something resembling order instead her usual mane of chaos, and shearing Harry’s long hair off at the shoulder.
“Hey, what on earth are you doing woman!” He protested in shock, clutching his remaining hair protectively while Violet snickered traitorously.
“You think you can go to school with your hair down to your waist boy?” She clicked her tongue at him disapprovingly, and poked his sternum. “They’ll mistake you for a lassie.”
Then she gave him a critical eye, and Harry flushed. “By the gods, you two eat as much as Dudley and you’re both still so thin.”
“Can we finish this up please? I’m starting to prune.” Violet interrupted, attempting to reduce their embarrassment.
The older woman snorted at them, as Harry went running his fingers through his desecrated hair, and she pulled them from the tub. “Now dry off and be quick about it, you both still need to pack. Hagrid will be here in less than thirty minutes, and I want you both to be immaculate when he gets here.
She snapped her fingers as they finished toweling off, then drove them up the stairs to their room to dress and pack.
“Remember, he’ll be here soon!” She reminded them, as they slipped on their best tunics, before leaving them to pack their things.
Violet let out an annoyed groan as soon as she left. “Sometimes, I think she acts like we don’t know how to dress ourselves.” She grumbled to herself as she started shoving some of their extra clothes into a sack that Trude, or maybe Petunia, had left lying on her bed.
Harry rolled his eyes at her comment, and started rooting around the room for some of the things he thought they might need at school. “So Vi, what kind of place do you think this school will be?” He asked her.
His sister shrugged indifferently, holding an old tunic to the light. “Eh, who knows…” She replied, tossing it into the sack. “I figure it should be more interesting than being here at any rate,” she paused and frowned, “you think they’ll have an actual bathhouse?”
Now it was Harry’s turn to shrug. “I should think so; Hagrid told me that the school has lots of students so they would have to wash somewhere.” He fingered a small scroll, debating if they would need a manual on forgery. “And even if they don’t, we can always just was in the river, there’s worse things to smell like than fish…”
“Do you think three extra tunics and tabards will be enough clothes?” Violet interrupted his musings.
He fished a bronze dip pen atop his shelve and handed it to her. “Is that three for each of us, or in total?” He asked her, vigilant against her tendency to pack less than they usually needed whenever they were going anywhere.
She pouted back at him. “Six of each, I’m not going to forget again.” She lifted her mattress and pulled out a set of dice. “Did Hagrid tell you how long it’s gonna take for us to get there? She asked him. “If it’ll take a long time I think we should bring some entertainment.”
Harry snorted at that. “Vi, do you really think we would end up playing dice?” He raised an eyebrow at her. “And besides, we’re going to Scotland aren’t we?” He flipped a little knife into the bag. “I’ve seen the maps Yorik keeps in his study; it’s not that far away.”
Violet gave him a dry look. “Ok, but what are the chances that nothing goes wrong on the way there?” She asked him.
“Our lives are not one endless series of disasters Violet.”
She gave him a dry look, and he could feel her amusement. “Aunt Petunia would disagree.”
“And I’m sure you have absolutely nothing to do with her opinion.” He shot back.
She opened her mouth to snipe back, but Vernon’s voice thundered though the tower, interrupting their banter. “Harry! Violet, come down here!” He shouted from downstairs.
Harry gave her an inquisitive look, wondering if she had done anything, but his sister only shrugged and made her way to the stairwell. “We’re coming uncle.” He called down.
They both raced down to the ground floor, to find Vernon and Yorik standing in front of a large wooden crate, Vernon with a peculiar look in his mustached face.
“Good pace,” he nodded approvingly at them as they stood as close to attention as they ever got; “now I want you both to listen up!” His face scrunched up, as though deeply uncertain about whatever he had called them for.
Finally he seemed to find himself, shaking off the indecision and standing tall before them. “It was ten years ago that you were placed under my care,” He gestured sharply at them. “And I’ve done my best to give you the most normal upbringing I could.”
He gave Violet a terse look. “And while you’ve both certainly made it difficult at times, I feel like I succeeded at my undertaking.” He motioned to the box beside Yorik. “Ten years have passed, and today you will return to the court of your birth.” Yorik handed him the crate. “Now you two are Potters and not Dursleys, but I met your father once, and he certainly didn’t seem like the kind of man who would take shit from anyone.” He rumbled out. “Would he spread it around? Absolutely, and it’s a trait that I can appreciate,” he fingered his mustache as he opened the box, “and that’s a trait you both seem to have inherited. But my point is that you are both going back to your court, and I don’t want to hear about you taking it from anyone, I raised you both better than that!” He shouted, more at the room than at them.
Then he gave them a satisfied look and pulled from the box, a pair of sheathed swords. They curved forward at a thirty degree angle, each as long as Harry’s arm. “Dumbledore wanted you both prepared, and to me, this is the final step.” He handed them both the weapons and Harry carefully unsheathed his while Vernon reached back into the box. It was obviously a falcata, Harry had read about them before, a design that had been filtered north by Greek and Carthaginian immigrants, nothing like the broadswords and axes that his uncle had tried to teaching them with.
Vernon seemed to notice his wonder. “You didn’t think I was paying attention when you two were training?” He gave an amused snort. “And they came with these.” Then he pulled a pair of shields from the box, about three feet across and in the convex Greek style, though each was decorated with elaborate Norse symbols scrolled across their leather cases.
“They’re all a little big for you two right now, but you’ll grow into them in a few years.” He said, while Violet squealed in joy, taking practice swings with her falcata. “Now, are you both packed?” He asked them.
Harry nodded, sheathing his sword, and strapping to his back. “We’ve already got everything ready Uncle.” Violet said, still grinning.
The burly man nodded, and a great crack sounded from outside the keep. Vernon gestured to the stairs and Violet ran up to grab the sack, while Harry stood, idly wondering how long it would be before they would return. “I’ll make sure to write Uncle.” He said, as three booming knocks came from the wooden door.
Vernon nodded in acknowledgment. “Hargid, is that you?” He called to the door.
The great wooden door to the keep swung open and Hagrid ducked through the door with a massive grin on his face. “Good to see you Vernon!” The giant boomed, stroking his bristly beard as he strode into the room, and Harry had to duck out of the way to avoid being bowled over.
Hagrid bent down at that, noticing Harry. “There you are lad, didn’t see you there.” He smiled hugely. “You and Vi ready?” Then he saw the box and the shields. “What you got there Yorik?”
The greybeaded beanpole grinned. “Vernon got the twins a parting gift.” He tossed one of the shields at Hagrid, who caught it like a plate in his massive hand.
“A fine shield,” he commented, tapping it with a finger as he inspected the scrawling runes carved into the leather jacket.
Vernon seemed to expand with pride. “I got a Greek named Themis to make them for me, he told me he was a smith and… well I figured they would need them at Hogwarts.” He gestured to Harry, “Boy, show him your sword too.”
Harry cautiously drew the sword from his sheath, and he handed it to Hagrid in exchange for his new shield, which he slid over the sheath on his back.
Hagrid examined the curving sword, giving it a few practice swings, before nodding in approval. Handing the weapon back to Harry he gave Vernon a secretive grin. “I’ll tell you what; it was a darn good idea to get them these.” He gave Harry a gentle pat on the back, which nearly sent him sprawling. “Most first years I see come through don’t bother to bring anything this useful. It’ll certainly give them a leg up for the first month or two.” He opened his mouth so say more but a high pitched roar from the stairway cuts him off.
Violet dove into the room, tossing their bag onto the floor as she slid to a stop next to Hagrid. “You got it right?” She questioned him immediately, trying to look behind him. “I’d better have not collected all of that junk for nothing.” His sister pouted, as her expression rapidly turned from excited to one of mild displeasure.
“Now hold on lassie.” he placated, gesturing for her to be quiet, while Harry quietly wished the man luck. “I’m a man of my word, I tell you. But I didn’t bring him inside cause I didn’t want your aunt to see em, or worse Trude.”
It was at that moment Harry realized exactly what Hagrid was talking about, and if the amused and pitying look Vernon was shooting at him was an indication of anything, it was that he realized it too.
Almost a year ago the half-giant had visited their keep, as he had done every few months for as long as Harry could remember It was something of a ritual in his opinion, which both he and his sister always looked forward to with great interest, as the half-giant had the habit of recounting all sorts of interesting tales when drunk.
And during this particular visit, after he and Vernon had halfway finished their usual keg of ale, Hagrid had brought up that he had managed to acquire a female Speckled Drake, and that the scaly creature was due to lay her clutch soon.
Violet had immediately taken to the idea of having a pet, especially after Harry had done his best to try and convince her that an eight foot long, venom spitting lizard wasn’t something they had a need for.
He had actually been irked when he had found out that she had ignored his advice and sought out Hagrid, who had agreed to provide one of the hatchlings, but only if, she could find him several seemingly random items.
And while Harry never did figure out where she acquired hair from a cave bear, she had managed to collect everything, the day before Hagrid’s last visit.
The half-giant’s reaction to being presented with the items he had requested, had left him wondering if Hagrid had actually thought that she would be able to collect everything at all.
But that had been more than three weeks ago, and now Hagrid was standing in the doorway trying to convince his sister to wait, as the rest of the household came down the stairs at a more restrained pace.
Dudley came into the room grinning. “Hagrid, it’s good to see you again.” His stocky cousin patted his impatient sister on the back; while Petunia and Trude gave the man suspicious looks.
Hagrid seemed to give up hope of getting out of the situation gracefully when they entered the room. The man deflated and he shot Violet a disapproving glance. “You kids are gonna be the death of me I swear.” He mouthed, and then he turned around, opened the door and gave a loud whistle.
“Hagrid…” Trude asked in a warning tone. “Exactly what kind of pet did you get the twins?” She nearly hissed at him.
He deflated, while Vi hopped in place with excitement, and something could be heard running outside.
“I was drunk Trude, I swear, and she made me promise!” Hagrid whined. Gesturing at Violet, who wore a rather familiar shit-eating grin, as a tan and green shape bolted into the room.
Petunia passed out immediately, falling into the arms of an irate Trude. “No Violet, not his time,” she gingerly passed Dudley his unconscious mother, “that creature is not staying in this house!”
Vernon cut in, attempting to be the voice of reason for once. “Of course it isn’t. It’ll stay at school, right?” He gave Harry a look, inventing him to dig everyone involved out of the hole Violet had thrown them into.
He nodded. “Of course it will Uncle.” He said, ignoring the traitorous looks his sister shot him.
He could argue with her later, for now he just needed her to not butt in.
Fortunately for everyone, she seemed to be too preoccupied examining her newest attempt at starting a menagerie to contradict him.
And actually… when he took a moment to examine it, it actually surprised him at how close it looked to the illustrations that he had seen in the scroll in the library. At five feet long, the drake was little more than a colorfully scaled tube of flesh on four, almost canine legs.
In fact the more he looked at it, the more it seemed to resemble some kind of reptilian dog.
It was a weird thought, and so he looked to Hagrid for direction, as the man had proven himself to be an expert on all manner of animals over the years. Unfortunately the giant in question was still cowering, while Trude fumed at him silently.
Harry felt himself smile slightly at them. The poor man was certainly going to hear about this after he delivered them to school. Of course it certainly wouldn’t be the first time, and she had forgiven him for all the past transgressions so he wasn’t too worried about Hagrid.
Then he nearly had his breath knocked from his lungs as Dudley tossed the sack with their stuff into his unprepared chest. The slightly older boy smirked at him, having passed off the now awake Petunia to his father. “Make sure to kick some ass for me cousin.” He tapped the hilt of his own sword meaningfully. “Get me one, I’ll pay you back.” He mouthed silently, gesturing subtly to the drake, which made a horn-like honk as Violet scratched the single row of scutes that trailed its spine down to the tip of its tail.
“Don’t worry, I’ll do my best.” He subtly answered both appeals, ignoring his sister as she squealed again, and the drake honked in reply.
Vernon gave the pair a curious look. “Well, I dare say it likes you Violet.” He chuckled, shooting Hagrid a glance. “What do you say Hagrid, should she give him a name?”
The half-giant recovered from his cowering quickly at the question. Stroking his beard and again grinning hugely. “Well I think I have to agree.” He waved to the door. “But I do have a schedule to keep, and if I’m late again, Minerva will kill me.” He scratched the back of his head. “So what say we get this show on the road?”
Violet shot him a look, and Harry could feel the tendrils of her magic intertwine with his, he shot a name across the aether and the both grinned.
“George.” The both said in unison.
Hagrid and Petunia both snorted at that, while everyone else just looks confused. “A better name than that, I never could have thought of” The half-giant gave them both a bemused look, while ushering them to say their goodbyes.
The next ten minutes passed too quickly in Harry’s opinion. In a blur of goodbyes and a several minute walk to the nearby cliff-side clearing, where the ocean breeze blew powerfully around them and Hagrid readied himself to transport the four of them.
Then the half-giant let out a deep and tuneless song, in time with the roaring waves, and in an instant he was falling through a blur of curious colors and amused piping.
Then the tune ended and he slammed face first into the grass. Harry decided that he needed to stew in his humiliation for a moment, and he reached out with his magic to take in his surroundings instead of raising his head.
He hadn’t known what he had expected before he had done it, but in an instant he felt more magic than he had ever before.
And when he raised his head he was not disappointed…
They had been transported to a hill on a grassy little island, maybe a mile wide, covered in little white tents where thousands of other children around their age loitered.
He blinked and pulled himself from the grass, dusting his tabard off and glanced between Violet and the newly dubbed George, both of whom were puking their guts out into the grass.
A large hand rested itself in his shoulder, and spun him around. Hagrid gave him a small and unusually serious smile. “Well Harry, this is where I leave you two for now.” He gestured to the little white tent behind them. “This one’s yours while you wait. It should have enough room for the both of you… plus George.” He grinned down at them as a still green Violet helped her new pet to his feet, giving the friendly giant a murderous glare as she did so.
Hagrid nodded, more to himself than to them. “There are provisions inside, and it shouldn’t be more than one or two more days before all the new students are gathered up anyways, so you shouldn’t have to wait long.” He shot Harry his version of a stern look. “Now I want you to be responsible, don’t get into fights if you can help it, and don’t go agreeing to anything either.” He said, implying more than he spoke. “The moment you two stepped onto this island you were both adults in wizarding law.” He palmed his jaw thoughtfully. “That means you’ll be held accountable for your actions, and your sisters.” He gave him a meaningful look, and Harry found himself nodding along.
He exhaled explosively and rose up. “Alright… Ok… Try not to cause too much chaos while you’re waiting.” He gestured out to the assembled mass of would be students. “And remember, most of them are just as adept at causing trouble as you two are, so try to be careful.”
And with that he gave them a sharp nod, and then disappeared with a crack.
Violet turned back to him as soon as Hagrid had disappeared, giving George’s head a rubbing, while fixing him with a grin. “What’d ya say we meet the meat bro…”She asked him, giving a predatory look at the crowd milling in the field.
Harry thought to himself for a moment. “Let’s take stock of our tent before we draw Jormungand up from the depths.” He answered her. “After all,” he thought to himself, “What’s the worst that could possibly happen.”
It was, he would recall much later, a decision that set the precedent for all of those to come.
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That's Hagrid and Dursley part of the story out of the way.
And why I didn’t make the Dursley’s the Nazis. The reason is simply that shit like that is supremely overdone. And that it would no longer make sense while keeping their motivations as intact as possible.
As for my decision to not include Diagon Ally, and to replace Hedwig with a Hesperosuchus agilis, well it was something I don’t usually see in fics.
So if you like the story, want to comment, or think I should dig a hole and die in it. Don’t hesitate to comment.
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Harry Potter and the Energumen of the Elchee