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
- 3
- 4
- 5
I just want to note that I find it increasingly odd how so many fics use things like “magical bonds” and other such terminology, with absolutely no attempt to portray how such things would logically change a society.
Usually it’s just used to make whoever is the protagonist look extra special.
Suffice to say, I will not be taking that route…
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Violet was a person that could be described easily by many words. Words like irresponsible, lustful, belligerent, hedonistic, and selfish. And it was selfishness that was the emotion she was feeling now.
Well that plus a little horny, but she wasn’t happy about that.
And it was all her brother’s fault.
It had been more than an hour since Harry had wandered off with the blonde harlot, and she was only getting more annoyed with them by every minute that passed.
Draco hadn’t even noticed, simply spooning up to the black haired girl and throwing a blanket over them both. And as far as she could tell they had both been asleep the entire time.
But she wasn’t sleeping, initially because she had opted to continue drinking, but now because… well she wasn’t sure why she wasn’t asleep yet.
Maybe she wanted to catch the pair coming back from what she was sure was some sort of sexual escapade, if she was interpreting the pulses echoing back from her connection with Harry even slightly correctly.
There had been the usual drunken fumbling, the awkwardness and a moment of what felt like humor. This had been followed almost immediately by a sort of heat that she had rarely ever felt directed at anyone else but herself.
It annoyed her to no end that someone else was getting her attention.
And so she sat, waiting in the tent and listing to the breathing of the other occupants, awake and waiting for a reason she really didn’t understand.
George hopped up from where he had been sleeping with only a moment’s notice, and she immediately flopped back onto the furs, pretending to be asleep. It wasn’t a ruse that would fool Harry if he was really paying attention, but she was pretty sure at this point that he would be distracted to notice.
The tent’s flap rustled as the pair stumbled inside, whispering secretively to each other. Dior chuckling hoarsely at something he said, as the two sat down, and her guts wriggled uncomfortably. Harry leaning back onto the furs she was pretending to sleep on with the blonde relaxing between where Draco and his brunette were sleeping.
She chanced another peek, they were wiping the mud from their feet with a rag, sharing it between the two of them, and Violet had to restrain herself to keep Harry unaware that she was still awake. The blondes face, she could see easily when her brother stood up to blow out the lantern, was smeared in white, and when he lay down behind her, and wrapped his arms around her waist, she could smell sex and sweat on his body.
Violet knew she wasn’t a genius, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out what had happened.
What was worse was that it was making her wetter, the reality of that made her even more frustrated. And now that she was lying down she found herself fighting a losing battle with the alcohol as well.
With Harry back, and wrapped around her, her body had decided that she had denied it the drunken slumber it wanted for long enough.
She frowned to herself, supposing there would be plenty of time for her to yell at him tomorrow.
§
The Latin’s had begun singing.
Hermione hadn’t realized that she had fallen asleep until she heard the unfamiliar chanting, and realized she was lying flat in the straw, her stomach clenching in a ravenous hunger.
It seemed that there were at least a few people on the ship that spoke the same language. Verses of what must have been a popular hymn in the catholic lands were echoing across the inside of the ship.
She sat up, rubbing sleep from her eyes. Melody was flopped in the hay nearby, snoring softly.
Then someone started chanting in Arabic and all suddenly the singing was deafening as everyone tried to outcompete each other. There were a few moments when she imagined she could hear someone singing in Greek but she wasn’t so sure where it had come from over the cacophony.
Her sister had swung up at the noise and wrapped herself around her in fright. “Hermione, what’s going on?” The smaller girl warbled, clawing at her like she was trying to hide somehow inside her older sister.
“Someone losing their mind to hunger induced insanity I would guess.” She winced as the girls nails dug into her chest as she clung to her from behind. “Ow, Melody get your hands off of me this instant.” She growled at her sister, trying to pry the girl’s fingers off of her.
Then there was a tingling feeling across her skin, and Melody shot off her with a pained yelp.
And the all of the nearby singing died in an instant.
She had no idea what had happened, but they were staring at her… again. “What are you looking at you filthy heathen?” She hissed at the Germanic girl from earlier, who she had seen was staring at her with an absolutely horrified look on her rather roughly cut face.
Then she smelled the smoke, and looked down to realize she had somehow set the hay on fire, and that there were sparks of lightning rippling across her own body.
So she did what any reasonable person would do in her position, she absolutely panicked.
Hermione rarely swore, but the string of utter profanities she let loose while trying to pat down herself and the burning hay with her bare hands was about as good as anything the sailors her father hung out with had ever said.
Melody was going to be reminding her about it for years to come, provided they didn’t both roast to death here.
Then she realized that the patting was just making it worse, her hands still crackled with lines of tiny lightening, and every pat just spread the flames further. And her sister was screaming, which made the people around her start screaming, and she just wanted to crawl into a hole and die.
Suddenly there was an earsplitting crack, but she still slapped at the flames desperately, she didn’t have time to care.
She didn’t even notice that the screaming had turned to whispering until she found herself patting down a pile of unburned straw. “Well Miss Granger, you can color me impressed.” The amused voice of the stern guard battered through the gates of her disbelieving mind.
Not just voice, as her head swung to look up her eyes deceived her. That was the only thing that made sense.
Standing before her was the old woman, now dressed in the finest red robe she had ever seen, and clutching what was clearly a magic staff in her hand.
“I leave you alone for not even a full day and you’re trying to burn yourself at the stake.” She gave Hermione a look of wry disapproval. “You’ve got some kind of dedication I’ll give you that.” The old woman said, running a hand over her steely hair with a sarcastic sigh.
She felt her jaw drop. “WHAT IS- If I…” She trailed off, her brain stuck between fury, confusion and a curiosity she wanted gone. Hermione inhaled, breathing deeply before replying. “What is the meaning of this?” She waved her hands at the hold for clarification, trying to sound angry instead of curious.
“Well the spell used to transport you here only takes one object, and I actually need your clothes to dress the dummies currently taking your places at the stakes. As for the sealing spells on the hexes… well we’ve tried going without them, and it ended in a full scale war breaking out in the hull so-”
Melody, perhaps having recovered, cut the woman off. “Wah! You’re that scary lady!” She jabbed her finger at the woman, and Hermione noticed that her younger sister’s hair was smoking slightly.
She gave her a tightlipped smile. “Yes little one, I am one and the same, but you can call me Minerva or Mrs. McGonagall here. As I take great care to distance myself from that messy part of my duties while at school.” The woman, now identified as Minerva, replied genially.
The sickening feeling was back, and it was stronger than ever, but she pressed on regardless. “Melody, it’s rude to point at people. And that still doesn’t explain why I’m here.” She butted her sister back, instantly realizing she had asked a question she really didn’t want answered.
The grey-haired woman gave her that same genial almost pitying look. “It is quite simple; one of my many tasks is to scout for new students.” She replied evenly. “But you’re a smart girl, and I suspect that this latest little incident only proves what you already knew to be true.”
There wasn’t any malice in the woman’s words, but she felt like someone was twisting a knife into her stomach as she continued. “Hermione Granger, you are a witch.” She waved at the hold full of children. “You and most of the other children on this ship have enough magic to be a student of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and have so been rescued from the terrible fate that would have befallen you, had you stayed behind in your respective homelands.” Hermione’s world spun insanely at that declaration.
She figured that she must have blacked out at that point of the woman’s declaration, as that was the last of that conversation she had any memory of.
When she awoke, she saw that the ladder to the ships hold was down, and the hold itself was wide open, letting in brilliant daylight and illuminating the many older teens in colorful robes gathering the other children.
There also seemed to be a purple haired lunatic woman, in hideously bright yellow robes, grinding her fist onto her sister’s hair, while Melody squealed. She found herself stuck between being angry, offended, frustrated and terrified. The worst part was that she wasn’t sure whether those emotions were directed at those around her, or at herself.
The other girl seemed not to notice her existential breakdown. “Wotcher Mione, I’m Tonks!” Tonks waved good-naturedly with arm not wrestling her sister. “You and this adorable little sock puppet get to be in my party this year, aren’t you lucky.” The yellow clothed teen grinned at her manically.
§
Harry was dreaming again, this time of some strange blasted landscape. His dreaming form scuttled across a rocky and ice frosted beach, the squat mountains that sat across the bay of thinly running liquid were completely barren, the whole landscape seemed devoid of any kind of life.
It was just a freezing desert on the edge of an ocean of liquid that did not move like water.
So he lay flat, resting his eight legs on the grit and letting the algae growing inside the clear shell on his back feel the warmth of the dim brown sun that took up half of the greenish sky.
There was no reason hurry, nothing seemed to be around, and the thick miasma flowed around him languidly, in a steady pattern.
But then he felt his gills flittering uncomfortably in tune to a sensation on his antenna, there was something was making the very aether around him tremble.
‘Maybe it was time to return to the shallow bay after all…’ The thought flickered down the chain of ganglia that formed his nervous system.
And then an instant he was no longer dreaming. He was back in the tent with Violet roughly straddling his hips, trying to shove her tongue as far down his throat as she could, as violently as she could.
His head was throbbed with a hangover, and he found that he didn’t quite remember much of anything. So he decided to do what he normally did when he awoke to her angry attacks.
The attempt to flip her off of him went better than it normally would have, and it left him wondering if she was still drunk from whatever trouble they had been getting into last night.
Then startled squawk from someone, who was defiantly not Violet, had the memories of yesterday rushing back at just the right time for him to be distracted for her tackle.
Her core scraped against his in a kind of vulnerable anger, rubbing like an acid, so he placed his hands into her shoulders and flipped them over, evicting another yelp from someone unseen while he worked to pin down her core with his own.
He held her down, locking eyes as she squirmed and writhed in his grip, and lashed across their bond with jealous emotions. He waited like that until the moment her head fell to the side in submission, exposing her throat as she ceased struggling, glaring in impotent anger at the tents far wall.
“Bloody balls Potter! What was that about?” Pansy groaned out, and figured he had probably tossed his sister on top of the sleeping brunette.
He tried to shrug, loosening his grip on his Violet’s wrists cautiously, in case she got any more bright ideas. “Sorry about that.” He said, and Violet hissed at them in response. So he dropped his weight, this time on her shoulders, pressing her more firmly into the blankets.
“I’m still going to kill you!” She growled, not looking at him but sliding her nails down his back possessively, now that her arms were free.
He didn’t relent. “Vi, I want you to calm down.”
Someone else groaned, the kind of groan that people made when they had a bad hangover, and Draco butted in. “What time is it guys?”
“I don’t wanna!” Violet shouted up at him petulantly, shaking her head and making her already messy hair even scruffier, with stray red frazzles sticking out at odd angles.
“Fucking swell guys, can we not do this first thing in the morning.” The blonde groaned in pain, clutching his head as his hangover hit him fully.
Their tent flap slid open and Dior sauntered in, looking freshly cleaned. She shot them an amused look, and he slid to sit next to Violet, who settled with glaring at the blonde girl and pouting at everyone else from on her back.
Dior just waved it off. “Alright everyone we need to start getting ready to leave. The Esquires seem to be arriving, and there are several ships with the foreign-borne anchored nearby the island.”
His sister blinked, calming slightly in the face of a mess of terms she knew nothing about. Draco, maybe sensing their unease, preempted her question in a dazed voice. “Foreign-borne is a catchall for students coming as tribute like you guys, or those rescued from countries where magic is banned.” He slapped the top of a box open, and drained a jug of watered-down wine with a few quick gulps. “Esquire is a proper title granted to students of high standing for various purposes. In this case, it’s the honorific term used for those that have chosen to tutor groups of initiates through their first years at Hogwarts.”
“Hufflepuffs the whole lot of them.” Pansy spat in disgust, covering her eyes with a blanket.
Violet chose that moment to grace them with a question. “What the fuck is a Hufflepuff?” She ran a hand though her messy hair, still shooting Dior a glare. “Sounds like some kind of skin disease.”
Pansy burst out laughing at that, but immediately clutched her head and groaned in pain, while Draco and Dior fixed her with a mildly bemused glance.
“Hufflepuff, is the name of one of the four houses students get sorted into at the end of their first year.” The blonde girl explained. “Those who are very hardworking or friendly usually end up there, which is why they often end up as tutors or in various labor jobs.”
Pansy muttered something about uselessness between groans. “The other three houses are Slytherin, Gryffindor, and Ravenclaw, which are characterized by cunning, bravery, and desire to learn respectively.” The girl continued, waiving at the tent flap. “Your Tutor will explain things in greater detail.”
Harry felt mildly curious. “So were actually going to school today?”
Dior nodded coolly, flipping her braids back. “Tutors will be walking around the island, looking for the students assigned to them, so it would pay to collect your things so we can hurry it up.”
“It’s pretty much too late to wash off though.” She continued, shooting a smug grin at Pansy and Draco. “There was a huge crowd of people at the latrine when I left.”
His sister snorted in distain, and sniffed the armpit of her tunic, her aura longer feeling so hostile. “Why would we need to do that? We just bathed yesterday.”
Draco slapped his forehead and Pansy just kept groaning.
Then the black haired girl shot up, swiped the empty jug from Draco, and instantly puked her guts out into it.
This time it was Violets turn to laugh. “Don’t you guys ever drink?” She mocked the brunette and her betrothed, who Harry noticed was looking a little green himself.
He could feel Dior make a slight tug on the other children’s cores. “Ok guys, get your shit together. We need to get back to our tent and get ready.”
There was a loud honk, and George’s scaly saurian head popped from a pile of blankets next to him. Harry decided that it was a sign to start packing.
§
“You keep that demon away from me!” Hemione hissed, as Tonks waved the finger long monstrosity she had pulled from her satchel at her.
The older girl just whined at her. “But you need it!” The fuzzy thing in her hands wiggled. “I went through so much trouble getting the cool looking ones.” Tonks complained, shooting her a look of mock sadness.
“It’s an abomination, and I refuse to have that thing anywhere near my head!” She had thought that she had been quite clear the first three times they had gone over this, but apparently the older teen was even thicker than she appeared.
The “thing” in question was a finger length tube of fuzz, with a little eel fin on its tail. It crawled over Tonk’s palm on six spidery legs, the claw ended proboscis that sprouted from its front end wiggled sinuously, as its stalked eyes focused on her unnervingly.
It was also hideously yellow, with bright purple stripes, and was apparently some sort of translating device.
“But Tully just wants to love you!” The girl replied in her hideously thick accent.
Melody shot back. “But it’s so weird looking. Like everything that could be wrong with an animal all bunched up into a fuzzy little package!” Her sister bemoaned.
Which left Hermione with a challenge, she could either agreeing with her sister on something, or consent to letting Tully hang off her ear for the foreseeable future.
After a moment of internal struggling, she gave in, a decision due not in small part to her own curiosity. “Fine, I’ll take it.” She growled between clenched teeth.
The girl’s hair flipped through a multitude of colors, and she grinned even wider. “Awesome!” She held out her hand and Hermione suddenly wondered if she had made some terrible mistake. “Believe me, this will make your time much easier, and if you keep it there long enough you should be able to learn English.”
The little creature scuttled up her arm when she raised it to Tonks’s. Her breath hitched and it stopped on her shoulder, seeming to sense her nervousness. The clawed tentacle rose to her ear and a tiny voice, it spoke to her. “Fear not, daughter of Heracles,” it said in perfect Greek, “I am quite harmless. And for only a small serving of your great power, oh mighty one, I will gladly offer to you my services as a translator.”
Her mind scrambled. The priests had told her only demons spoke to men in such manner and while wearing such hideous forms, but they had also been the ones who prescribed death to witches.
And so while the manner of her “great power” was something she was willing to ignore for the moment, the fact that she needed an interpreter was not. The memory of the day she had spent futilely trying to talk to those who only spoke in heather tongues, still fresh in her mind.
So while she wondered exactly how the creature had managed to learn as much as it had in the few moments it had been displayed to her, she hesitantly brushed her frizzy mane back and exposed her ear in silent permission.
The Tully didn’t hesitate, and quickly went wandering the rest of the way to her head with light, ticklish steps.
The front pair of spiderlike legs hooked over the top of her outer ear, the clawed mouth looping over those to whisper into her head. “You may return your fur to its usual place, mighty one.” It spoke, bracing the rest of its legs and the flat of its tail against the back of her ear.
“Listen and you shall believe.” Tonks said, but not in the terribly accented Greek that she had used before. This time she spoke in an unfamiliar language that seemed to fit her accent better, and as she spoke, Tully whispered into Hermione’s ear in Tonks’s voice.
The other girl grinned and she felt a tiny tingling, like when she had set the straw ablaze, but infinitely less so. “See, I told you it works.”
Tonks slid another Tully onto Melody’s shoulder. Her sister flinched, but accepted it anyway, mirroring her own actions earlier.
“Oh, also put this on for now.” She tossed a necklace of wooden beads into Melody’s hands. “You’ll need to wear this for the next hour or so.” The girl said flippantly, waving for them to follow her.
“Now we just need to find Miriam.”
“That’s a Moorish name.” Her sister commented, staring at the necklace for several seconds before putting it on.
Tonks nodded absently, her eyes searching the rapidly emptying hold. “It’s a Muslim usually.”
Hermione followed her gaze nervously, still fully aware of Tully perched precariously behind her ear. “Well do you have more bright ideas?”
The older grinned, and waved her staff. “Accio Miriam Mohammed!” She shouted and the glass ball atop the staff sparked.
A brown shape shot screaming from beneath a nearby pile of hay, and the girl landed with a flop in a heap at Tonks’s feet. “Wotcher Miriam!” The older girl said in the same chipper tone from earlier, before slipping seamlessly into what Hermione assumed was Arabic. The teen’s speech to the terrified moor was much the same as it had been for Hermione, though she was forced to speak up when it came time to convince the waifish girl to accept her own Tully.
After the Arab girl had been corralled into their little group, Tonks palmed her chin and gave them all a look of deep thought. “You lot need something to wear.”
Hermione growled at her, feeling her teeth grind together and shaking her fists, making Miriam flinch away from her. “You’re just realizing that now!” She resisted the urge to pull her hair out in frustration.
“Well it’s not that big a deal, the girl said. Her hair turned tannish as she spun her staff absently, so that the glass beads on it clinked. “Alright, black for the firsties and red for the maid.” Her staff flashed again, and Hermione suddenly found herself wearing a thin black robe.
There was a yelp from behind her, and she turned to see that her sister had been garbed in a simple light red tabard, held in place by a black belt. “It’s so breezy!” Melody complained, groping the loose belt tighter, as her knees knocked nervously. “What if the boys see me like this?” She asked Tonks, in a slightly panicked voice.
Tonks seemed unperturbed. “So what about it? There’s been boys’ glancing at your bits all day already.”
Melody made a panicked chirp, hopping up and down apprehensively, and clutching her new tabard. “WHY?” She hissed out, running her hands through her hair.
Hermione decided that she could go back to ignoring the younger girl in that exact moment, as the events of the past several minutes caught up to her frazzled mind.
“Wait a minute, how in God’s name did you do that?”
Tonks looked unperturbed. “Gonna need you to be a little more specific there.” Her hair rapidly flashed through a variety of colors. “You mean this?” The older girl asked with an amused grin.
She didn’t think the blatant violation of nature was funny. “I was going to ask about that second, but please explain both.”
The other girl shrugged, straightening her robes and motioning for them to follow her. “Well I just used a temporary transfiguration spell to make your clothes from the straw. Which reminds me, I’ll need to buy you guys some real clothes when we get the chance.”
She continued. “As for the color trick, stuff like that just sort of happens to people, especially those from older families. Usually it’s the result of a few too many botched rituals, or of prolonged exposure to certain magical artifacts or ingredients” Hermione found herself listening with interest, as the older girl shrugged, and they stepped up the stairs out of the ships hold. She shielded her eyes from the sunlight, and used her free arm to drag Melody along behind her.
“So the hair thing is hereditary?” She asked in curiosity, taking in the ship that had been her prison for the past day or so. It was a very wide galley, of a very uncertain quality, and she knew instantly that she would have never stepped foot on it willingly under normal circumstances.
Tonks nodded, shepherding Miriam out onto the ship’s deck. “In the sense that screwing up certain spells and potions carry the risk of leaving you and your descendants’ permanently screwed up.” She gave Hermione a knowing look. “That means don’t do anything without consulting either me or Penny first!” She finished unpersuasively. Hermione found she would have been more willing to believe her if she hadn’t been grinning like a lunatic.
Melody chose that moment to renter the conversation. “Who’s Penny, is she related to the scary lady?” She gripped her chin in panic.
Momentarily confusion passed across the other girls face, her hair flashing colors again before Hermione clarified. “She means Minerva.”
“Oh,” the other girl gave her a slightly shocked look, “You’ve already met Professor McGonagall?”
“That woman is a teacher?” Hermione found her mouth running before she had formulated a proper response. She blamed the memory of such an imposing matron dressed in the armor of the Varangian guard. Even though she had seen her in the ornate robes more recently, it still didn’t really mesh in her mind that the stern elder would turn out to be a teacher.
Tonks nodded gleefully, pulling them towards the rickety looking gangplank. “She’s the schools Transfiguration Mistress and the Head of the Gryffindor House.”
Her mood soured at the memory. “Did you know she moonlights as a guardsman in Constantinople?” She said with a bit more venom than she intended.
The older girl seemed to understand the source of her sour mood. “I’ll be honest, I didn’t. But it doesn’t surprise me, lots of older wizards do things like that.” She helped them off the gangplank, glancing at it suspiciously for a moment before continuing. “And Penny is my second in command. She’s the one you’ll be talking to about bonds and stuff like that.” She ruffled Melody’s hair.
Her eyes swept the crowd. “And she isn’t here.” She put her hands on her hips in annoyance.
“Hey Percy, where’s Penny?” She shouted at a nearby redheaded teen, herding a trio of Muslim girls.
He gave her a dismissive look, stiffly straightening his white and blue robes. “How should I know?” He said, in what sounded like carefully practiced arrogance.
Hermione decided just to watch the shots fly. “Come on Percy, I know that you know where she is. Can’t you do me a single favor?” The teen whined.
The redhead snorted at them, and jabbed his finger at the sea of white tents that covered the landscape before them. “She’s probably off doing your job for you.”
Tonks grinned, using her superior height to literally look down on the other teen. “Thanks a bunch Weasley.”
Hermione felt a sensation, like a raincloud being swept across a blue sky, as the older girl gave them a manic grin. “Alright, so the first order of business for our as yet unnamed party… is to locate the rest of the party!” She shouted at them, dragging them past the snobbish boy and towards the tents.
§
Thirty minutes later and Violet was still pouting childishly.
Harry had decided that it was a problem that was best solved after they were no longer in public. It wasn’t really a pressing issue anymore anyway, as Draco, Pansy, and Dior seemed content to ignore her frowning at everyone as they tramped the path down the hill towards their tent.
“Just listen for someone calling our names.” Pansy informed him, while Draco slipped in a patch of mud from the night before, nearly pulling Dior down with him as he narrowly avoided face planting down the hill.
Harry nodded in acceptance, while the girl started fawning over the blonde boy again, Dior just rolling her eyes at them. “So… Any more information we need to know in a timely manner?” He probed the blonde girl.
Dior just glanced at him wryly, miming massaging her throat with her free hand. Draco spoke up in her place though. “Just don’t do anything stupid and you should be fine.”
The muscular boys from earlier emerged from a nearby tent, complete with already packed sacks slung over their backs. The first one, Goyle if Harry remembered correctly, gave Draco a salute. “We’ve already got everything packed boss.” He said.
Harry thought to comment, but was distracted by a burst of emotions from nearby. They all turned to see Violet on her butt, with another redheaded girl in the same position on the ground opposite of her.
The thinner girl stood up uncertainly, rubbing her forehead and leaning on a plain-looking glaive. “YOU BITCH!” Violet leapt from the ground, her hair crackling with accidental magic. She ripped her falcata from the sheath she had earlier switched to her hip, jabbing it menacingly at the taller girl. “Try using your eyes when you walk!” She growled out, temper flaring again.
“Oh, shit.” Draco and Dior said under their breath in sync. While Pansy literally hissed like a snake.
Dior slapped his chest, and Harry drew his own sword, as Goyle and Crabbe pulled a pair of daggers seemingly from thin air. “Watch your back, Weasley’s travel in packs.” Goyle whispered down to him.
Draco chuckled hysterically as the other girl flipped her single long her braid across her shoulder, and flipped her glaive into an overhanded grip, spitting at Violets feet. “How many times a day does this happen to you on average Potter.” He ground out sarcastically as another redhead, a gawky boy this time, ran around the edge of a nearby tent and started shouting at them.
“Who’s calling my sister a bitch?” He yelled at them, suddenly his eyes locked with Draco’s and Harry could feel that warm fuzzy feeling that came with mutual hate sparking in the air. “Malfoy!” He jabbed his finger at the blondes.
“Well, is it isn’t the weasels.” Draco sneered, calmly waving Goyle out of his way. “You’ll have to forgive me Ronald, I was doubtful your family would even be able to afford send you.”
Harry gave Draco a raised eyebrow, ignoring Violet and the other Weasley circling each other. “Money issues?”
Dior snorted. “The Weasleys and Prewets are both dirt poor, and without a noteworthy accomplishment for longer than my family’s been in existence.” She replied to him quietly, motioning subtly for him to pull Pansy behind him.
“Arrgg!” The tall redhead screamed, taking a wild swing, which Violet blocked, only for the other girl to slid the length of her spear down her sword, breaking the weapon lock in a messy tackle that left them both rolling in the mud and exchanging sloppy punches.
Ronald looked absolutely furious, but as he glanced at Violet and the other girl locked in even combat, then to the other five of them. He seemed to realize he was totally unarmed, and in a hopeless situation.
A small crowd of onlookers had gathered around them, and they cheered the boy on to what probably would have been an embarrassingly one-sided loss, at the very least. Fortunately for Ron’s health, they were interrupted before anyone could escalate the situation further.
Violet’s body actually leapt into the air, hovering in place. “Hey, what gives?” She struggled for a moment before a bolt of light hit her, and her sword flipped from her grip. “Put me down!” She shouted.
A bored voice replied. “Not likely, squirt.” The tall brown-haired speaker, dressed in crisp blue robes, walked from around the same tent Ron had popped from behind. She rubbed the bridge of her nose in annoyance, and flicked the wand she held, making the mud go shooting off of Violet and the other girl.
Draco eyed the older girl, in mock submissiveness, his core as oily as Harry had ever felt. “Are we breaking any rules, ma’am?”
She gave him a tightlipped look, clearly not buying the blondes acting. “Not yet, but I’m sure you lot would have managed, given enough time.” She flicked her wand again, this time depositing the struggling Violet Harry’s feet. “At any rate, I will not have you buggering up my first year of chaperoning.” Her eyebrow rose at the nine of them still in the clearing, the crowd having fled at the first sign of trouble. “You two are Malfoys I take it?”
The blonde boy strutted. “I see our family’s reputation precedes us.” He grinned at her.
The primly dressed brunette snorted at that. “It’s moslty the hair. That would make the three of you Goyle, Crabbe, and… Pansy if I’m remembering correctly.”
She glared at the assembled redheads. “It is odd though, I was only told about two from the Arthur’s family.”
Violet snot up in indignation, colorful sparks shooting from her hair. “Oi, I’m not a bloody weasel!” his sister objected loudly, sounding offended, and mimicking Draco’s earlier insult. “My hair is clearly much brighter and nicer than theirs is, and I have more freckles.”
“You take that back you curly little shit.” The glaive wielding girl shouted, nimbly hopping back up.
“Who you calling little, you skinny fu-!” Harry felt her magic flash, and suddenly there was a meaty smack, and she dropped like a rock with her sword clattering onto the ground beside her.
There was a flash of light, and the Glaive wielder slumped down as well. “That would be why you don’t try to summon something you can’t see.” The teen commented, her wand pointing at the unconscious Weasley, while she clapped Ron on the shoulder warningly.
The redhead just gulped. “I’m Penny Clearwater, by the way.” She said, casually. “And you would be?” She gave Harry a meaningful look, and her felt her caressing his core, gently testing his connection to Violet.
“I’m Harry Potter, and this is my sister Violet.” He put his arms underneath her shoulders, as he tried lifting her up.
Penny just chuckled, waving her hand, and Harry felt his twin lighten. Until she floated free from his grasp. “Ok, that’s the Potters, Weasleys, and Malfoys and company. I’m already a third of the way done…” Harry quickly gathered up their stuff as she finished talking.
“I’m already a third of the way done.” She repeated, suddenly frowning. “Provided Tonks is doing her job.”
§
Less than thirty minutes of freedom and the novelty had already begun to wear thin. Hermione found the soft ground was an unpleasant sensation on her bare feet, it had clearly been raining recently and the mud left her steps uncertain. It didn’t help that she was unsure if Tonks would be able to provide her with any help, the young woman had been so focused on dragging them from one end of the miserable island to the other, growing there little group by plucking children from the crowed every so often.
They still hadn’t found Penny though.
It wasn’t that she was jealous of the other youths, which streamed between the little white tents. The island was literally swarming with them, and the other brightly robed chaperones.
But they all had the shoes she lacked, well most of them did. Every so often she would see one of the children from the ships hold, and they were usually barefoot.
Actually, she decided that the fact that some of them did have shoes annoyed her.
“Where are we going?” She asked Tonks, trying to keep the frustration from her voice, as she nearly slipped into the mud for the fifth time in as many minutes.
The older teen seemed blind to her irritation, and the emotions of the fifteen odd followers that had accumulated. “I figure since we haven’t seen Penny yet, and were missing about twelve other kids, that she’s probably somewhere nearby the bridge.” She stated in a cheerful certainty.
“The bridge to where?” Melody chose to interrupt with another one of her worthless questions.
The girl grinned mysteriously, her hair turning as yellow as her robes. “You’ll know it when you see it, trust me.”
And with that unclear statement, they reached what Hermione figured was the islands southern edge, where a small wooden glen sat close to the sea.
“PENNY!” The teen shouted at the crowed, prompting another, slightly younger teen with a very straight-laced appearance to turn back towards her.
The brown haired girl’s hands shot to her hips. “And where in Astarte’s name have you been?” She looked appropriately annoyed.
Tonks just laughed good-naturedly, scratching the back of her head. “I was looking for you of course.”
Hermione zoned the rest of the younger teens sniping out. Choosing instead to take in the other children that had been clustered around the blue robed teen, mostly to see if they were as worthless as the ones Tonks had already collected.
They didn’t look like much, just another random collection of barbarians, though she did notice that several were armed and eyeing each other rather warily.
“Melody, at least try to keep up.” She chided her sister, noticing she had been trailing behind as, as the teens lead their two groups to merge under a massive tree of a variety she didn’t recognize.
She actually found the fact that she couldn’t recognize it mildly disturbing when she gave it some thought.
Tonks stood tall, waving her staff, and making it shoot sparks. “All right everyone, gather in a circle. It’s time to learn your first lesson.” Her voice broke over the whispering.
She grinned down at them, her hair settling on a deep purple color. “That’s right folks; your first assignment will be before you even get to set a single foot in Hogwarts.”
Penny sat cross-legged, motioning for everyone else to do the same. “Your first lesson will be on the single most important aspect of being a wizard.”
She waved her hand at them and it emitted several tiny, human shaped, smoke wisps. “Listen to me children, and mark my words well. For now that now that you are Mages, your word is your bond.” She said loudly, her face a mask of seriousness. “If you make a poorly spoken statement or preform an action without thinking, it can easily bind you for the rest of your life.” There were gasps from their crowd, but Hermione noticed that may of the children seemed unsurprised, probably those from wizarding families.
But Penny continued, unperturbed. “But it is these very bonds that are what holds our world together. For without them, you could trust no one, not even yourself.” She gave them a rather dark look. “For as you all shall soon see, it is a simple matter for mages to ensnare the senses, or to assume forms that are not their own.”
“So the act you all will need preform before you are allowed to cross the bridge is exactly that!” The smoky figures that hovered above her palm stretched in the breeze, until there were trails of smoke connecting them. “It will be a bond for your own safety.” She gestured to herself and Tonks. “You all will need to create an apprentice bond… with just Tonks for today.” A thousand questions exploded in Hermione’s mind.
Then the teen glanced at Melody, and those questions died on her lips. “But first, we have another bond that needs to be performed.” She felt a cooling sensation in her chest, which seemed to almost be emanating from the older girl. “You two come here.” Penny waved at her, and Tonks nodded at her to comply.
Hermione’s body flushed, and the older teen smiled, she felt like she was going to pass out from embarrassment. Everyone was watching them, as she and her little sister stumbled over to the older brunette.
“What’s’ your name?” Penny questioned.
“Hermione…” She replied, her brain reacting without her input, “from the merchant family of Granger, from the city of Constantinople.” The cooling sensation receded as she finished.
The older girl gave her an amused look, threading her fingers into Melody’s brown hair. “You’re far from home, aren’t you Christian? And this one, she is your younger sister correct?”
Hermione swallowed thickly, still keenly aware of everyone’s eyes on her, as she nodded in affirmation. “Yes ma’am, her name is Melody.”
“Your remember a little flattery will get you far. Too many forget that.” She smirked. “Alright, now I want you to hold her down like this.” She guided Melody onto her back, and slid Hermione’s hand into the younger girl’s slender neck. “More firmly Hermione, don’t be afraid to hurt her, this will only take a moment.”
She stared into her little sister’s wide, panicked eyes as she pressed down her weight on her throat, feeling the muscles working frantically for air. “Alright, I want you to press into her with your core, very gently as you repeat after me.”
Penny uttered a string of nonsense words, and she found herself repeating it almost unconsciously, slightly fearful of what might happen if she refused. There was a buzzing sensation, similar to what she had felt in the ships hold, and her hand crackled. Melody began to struggle immediately, and her hand shot back. Fearful, despite the teen’s instruction, that she had hurt her.
The older girl merely smiled, and gently stroked Melody’s neck in a manner that left Hermione suddenly feeling irrationally territorial, while her younger sister took in deep shuddering breaths.
She trailed her nail down small black mark that had appeared in the very center of her younger sister’s throat. Nothing more than a thin triangle, with five dots of unmarked skin that ran down its length.
Penny shared a pleased smile with Hermione. “That was very good for your first attempt.” She ran her finger down the black glyph again. “This mark Hermione, this is your sigil. It shows to the entire world that this child is your servant.”
The words blasted the thoughts from her mind again.
But the other girl turned to the crowed, seemingly unconcerned. “I hope you all were paying close attention! This is a ritual that you will likely not have another chance to learn again until your second year.” She chided them, but it seemed unnecessary, they were all still watching with rapt attention.
Tonks clapped. “Alright, everyone join hands, everyone in a circle!” She shouted excitedly, while Hermione was busy trying to digest the events of the last thirty seconds. Penny slid her hands under Melody’s shoulders, pulling her into her lap.
“Join the circle Hermione; she’ll still be waiting when you’re done.” The older brunette directed gently, and she felt the cooling sensation again.
She found herself sliding back, taking the hands of a boy with a round face and black hair, and a pigtailed blonde with a very wide smile. Tonks joined the circle last, and when she did there was instantly a crackle of electricity down both of her limbs. The entire circle jerked their hands apart, but somehow there wasn’t a total loss of connection.
She could feel what she could only describe as, Tonks’s essence, a warm dampness that didn’t fade, but directed her to the older girl unfailingly.
“Good, I think I have everyone connected.” There was a pulse of that wet sensation, and she realized the older girl was probing them with her magic. Her mind fizzled with uncertain emotions, as she realized that she now had a magical connection to the other girl. She examined her hands apprehensively, but found that they were curiously unblemished.
“There won’t be any visible marks; this bond wasn’t nearly that powerful. It’s just an apprentice bond after all.” She smiled at them, as Penny lay Melody down and stood up.
“Now everyone close your eyes, and don’t open them until I say so.” The brunette instructed them.
Hermione found herself following the instructions, again without prompting. Her mind was finally beyond exhausted, her nerves fraying further with every second. Then she heard Penny tell her to open her eyes.
She could hear people gasping, but the sight barely even registered. That there was somehow now two Penny’s wasn’t even worth her concerns, because she could easily tell which was really Tonks.
How the other girl had managed to change her appearance so rapidly was beyond her ability to care about. She just wanted to pull Melody into a hug and sleep forever.
But the world conspired against her as their group stood up, and started towards an odd pair of trees, whose branches intertwined in an arch. The cooling sensation returned, and this time it brought a curious moisture with it, as she found herself dragging a barely responsive Melody by the arm. Jabbing her younger sister with that strange electric sensation from earlier, whenever the nine-year old needed a little extra prompting.
The sight of it wasn’t right, the air between the trees was rippled and bent strangely, filled with odd bubbles and curious motes of colored light.
A voice in the back of her head cried out as those passing between the trees vanished from sight in a burst of tiny bubbles. It clawed at her exhausted psyche, telling her that if she passed through the trees there would be no going back, That she would be betraying her principles as a God fearing Christian if she went through.
But wasn’t that the point? It wasn’t like she could go back to Byzantium, and she had somehow just been unwittingly walked through the enslavement of her nine year old sister.
She was already in too deep to go back.
And hadn’t she decided earlier that she was going to beat this, that she would overcome the challenges that were being placed in her way?
“Besides,” she thought to herself, “this will probably be a great learning opportunity.”
The idea sparked something deep inside her, something that had always haunted her. It was the familiar need to learn all that she didn’t know, the endless search for understanding of that which was currently beyond her grasp.
A smile graced her tired lips as she passed through the threshold, dragging Melody behind her. An effervescent froth ran over her skin and obscured her vision for a second, as she passed the thin film of stretched space, and suddenly they were gone.
And they were all standing behind Penny, and a returned to normal Tonks, in a different wooden clearing. The two older teens said nothing, simply gesturing them to follow them up a small inclined hill with a dual pair of mysterious and amused smiles.
The path up the hill was steep, but well kept, and in only a moment they had arrived at the very top. To where a ring of marble columns sat, crowning the crest of the hill.
Her eyes traced out instinctively as they walked to the far end of the ring. Looking down across the distinctive pattern of the well-maintained fields and orchards that blanketed the nearby landscape, separated by their stone walls and little dirt paths, and still Hermione found her gaze drawn further.
And there, looming imposing and impossibly…in the far away distance was all that Hermione Jean Granger did not know.
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And that’s chapter 4 finished.
Chapter 5 will probably be finished sometime in the next week of two, so I hope you all are looking forward to it.
Sorry there wasn’t much action in this one, but they need to actually reach Hogwarts at some point right?
As always, reviews, hate-mail or just ramblings are welcome. I’ll gladly take on all challengers.
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Harry Potter and the Energumen of the Elchee