Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Moments in Love	By : Gandalfs-Beard Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Harry/Hermione Views: 175861 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 14
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. All rights belong to Rowling. Nor do I make any money from the story.

Chapter List
- 64
- 65
- 66
The Lifely Hallows

Hermione sighed happily, her dream of dallying with Harry amidst a field of vibrant wildflowers on a bright sunny day seemed deliciously real. She tingled with elation as Harry’s ministrations brought her to a peak. Just as Hermione thought it couldn’t get any better, the dream faded and her eyes fluttered open, catching the scattered rays of golden sunlight streaming through the frosted over window panes.
She squealed with delight to find her waking reality so much like the dream, Harry’s head between her thighs and his tongue wriggling inside her. Hermione’s toes curled; she ran her fingers through his messy black hair as she trembled blissfully a second time, her sheath contracting and releasing in rapid succession around the wet warm appendage as she burst and released a flood of nectar.
Hermione’s thighs clamped tightly, trapping Harry’s head between them as he continued to lave her vulva mercilessly without stopping. Gasping, Hermione shuddered ecstatically, her head spinning and sparks of magic flying as she climaxed again and again.
Finally, Hermione giddily slumped back against her pillow, dazed and panting, her breasts heaving. Harry’s grinning head emerged from between her legs; he wiped his face and crawled up the bed beside her to give her a gentle kiss. Hermione beamed at him.
“That... that was amazing,” she gasped breathlessly.
“It’s your Christmas Present...” Harry chortled. “It’s only the second day of Christmas after all and I had to give you something.”
“Mmm... It was lovely Harry! Thank you! Do you want your present now? Or do you want to save your energy for later?”
“Er... later?”
“Well, Ginny’s coming for Boxing Day, remember?”
“Yeah... But I thought... for Luna...” Harry’s eyes widened when it hit him. “OH! Er... You mean we’re going to do the Coven thing today? ... What about Parvati?”
“Apparently Ginny and Luna have it all worked out,” Hermione giggled. “Parvati’s going to join them for a threesome.”
Harry gaped at Hermione. She giggled again; the expression on Harry’s face was too precious, caught between bewilderment, anxiety, a hint of unintentional arousal, and guilt for even thinking about it.
“Er... erm...” Harry didn’t know what to say.
Hermione pulled Harry closer and snogged him silly. When she finally released his lips from her own, Harry looked dazed and giddy. He gave her a lopsided grin.
“Blimey! Well I suppose we’ll give this a go then...”
By the time Harry and Hermione had showered, dressed, and arrived in the kitchen for breakfast, everyone else was already sitting around the table with Ginny and giggling, apparently discussing their plans for the day.
Ginny grinned at the Potters when she saw them enter the kitchen. When Harry couldn’t quite meet her eyes - or Luna’s or Parvati’s either - she snorted mirthfully and struggled to maintain her composure.
“Hi Harry, Hermione... Happy Christmas!”
“Happy Christmas Ginny! Er... You sure you won’t be missed at Hogwarts?” Harry asked.
Ginny shook her head. “I’ll be fine. It’s Christmas Holidays. I told the girls in my dorm that I might not be back till tomorrow morning - they think I’m just going to a party and sleeping over at another House tonight... I didn’t tell them exactly which one. And nobody else will even notice that I’m gone.”
“That’s brilliant Ginny!” Hermione beamed. “So, how was it getting here then? Did everything go alright? Phineas Nigellus didn’t give you too much trouble I hope?”
Ginny giggled and shook her head again. “No! Headmaster Black is really funny. He acts all superior and like he hates kids, but I think it’s all for show...”
Harry grinned and finally looked Ginny in the eye. “Yeah... I sort of got that impression too actually. He’s a bit of a laugh.”
Harry sat next to Hermione and breakfast got properly underway; he couldn’t help feeling a mixture of nervousness and excitement, wondering if he would be too embarrassed by the prospect of being within shouting distance of other couples with just a bit of foliage for cover to perform. All of a sudden he remembered a Rita Skeeter article and he groaned, palming his face.
“What’s wrong Harry?” asked Parvati.
Harry reddened. “Er... I was just thinking about that stupid ‘Secret Harem’ article Skeeter wrote...”
At that, everyone burst into gales of laughter. Luna laughed so hard that she nearly fell out of her seat. Dora choked on the piece of toast she was munching. Fleur patted her on the back and after a couple of coughs Dora gulped down some orange juice to clear her throat.
“Yeah... Not so far off the mark after all, eh?” chortled Dora. “But really, it’s not the same at all Harry. It’s not like you’ll be having sex with the lot of us.”
That set off another round of uproarious hilarity and this time Luna really did fall out of her chair. His face burning like a furnace turned on full, Harry buried it in both hands and slumped on the table letting out another long groan. Unable to control her own giggles, Hermione rubbed his back consolingly.
As everyone settled back down and the laughter abated, Harry wasn’t the only one to be afflicted by anxious contemplation of the upcoming event. Daphne glanced at Jennifer, wondering if she was really up to participating in the Coven ritual. Though she and Jennifer had grown more and more intimate, on each occasion Daphne had been the recipient of Jennifer’s amorous affections and it seemed to Daphne that Jennifer was avoiding Daphne’s tentative attempts to reciprocate.
Jennifer caught Daphne’s look and turned pink, correctly surmising Daphne’s quandary.
“I’ll be alright,” Jennifer murmured. “I’m ready for this. I’m sure of it.”
Parvati kept glancing nervously at Luna and Ginny, who both seemed very eager and not at all anxious about participating in a threesome. Parvati had to admit that she had enjoyed “practicing” with Luna very much, more than she had thought she would. And somehow - as embarrassing as it was - the idea that Ginny was watching them through the mirror had made it even more exciting.
But this was different. This time it would be all three of them together; and though the idea of it was arousing, Parvati wondered if she would be able to follow through when it came right down to it.
Fleur and Dora peered at the others perceptively as breakfast was finished in a much quieter manner than it had begun.
The rest of Boxing Day morning and early afternoon was spent giving Ginny a tour of Jennifer’s estate and lounging around chatting and watching the muggle television. Harry grinned and shook his head when Ginny teased him a little bit about being Luke Skywalker after Luna insisted on playing the videotape of Star Wars for her.
Finally the agreed upon time arrived; it had been decided to take a late lunch (or early Tea) and eat it by the pond before beginning the ritual while it was still light outside.
The sky was clear as they all shuffled through the snowy gardens to the pond. Even though she had seen it earlier that morning, Ginny still couldn’t get over the fact that it seemed like a balmy Spring afternoon once they had passed across the snow line into the meadow grasses. Her skin tingled as she entered the glade with the others and like everyone else had the day before, she looked to Hermione for answers.
“I’m really not sure Ginny,” Hermione admitted when Ginny asked. “Even a hot-spring wouldn’t be able to explain the willows keeping their leaves and the wildflowers blooming at this time of year. It probably has something to do with an ancient enchantment we think might have been placed on the pond, but without more information, I can’t really be certain.
“Anyway, Harry and I will take the North End of the pond, and I think it makes most sense for you and Luna and Parvati to take the South End. I don’t think it really matters who takes East or West though...”
“You alright with West, Daphne?” asked Jennifer.
Daphne looked to both sides of the pond, seeing very little difference; there appeared to be plenty of bushes, grasses and wildflowers for cover.
“Er... yeah, I suppose,” she answered with a nervous giggle.
“Zat makes our decision much easier,” Fleur tittered, grinning at Dora.
“I’ll say,” Dora replied with a smirk, “Right then, I suppose we might as well dig into this picnic basket first. So where do we wanna eat?”
In the end Harry chose the North side of the pond when it appeared that nobody could make up their minds. Luna and Dora spread out a large red tartan blanket between a mossy statue of a Faun playing pipes and a statue of a Nymph by the water’s edge, and opened the picnic basket.
Inside was an array of cheeses and crackers, nuts, tangerines, mini-apple-pies, and mince pies. Harry was also pleased to see that Fleur and Dora had thought to pack several bottles of Merlot and Zinfandel, as he was still feeling a bit anxious about the whole thing.
When everyone was finished and had departed to their own corners of the pond, Harry felt a bit more relaxed, but not overly full, and only pleasantly tipsy, much as he had following the Yule Ball.
As Harry lay on the blanket and watched the wintry sun draw nearer to the tree-line and puffy white clouds drawing nearer, a sense of tranquility settled over him. It was hard for Harry to believe that less than forty eight hours ago he had felt like he’d never be at peace again. With a sigh of contentment Harry pulled his wooly jumper over his head and tugged off his jeans, preparing himself for the now much less daunting task of engaging in a Coven Ritual.
After pulling her own jumper over her head, Hermione was a bit surprised, but not at all unpleased, when she turned around to find a pretty girl with windswept black hair and iridescent green eyes lying beside her.
“How come you changed into Harriet?” she asked, “Not that I mind of course.”
“Er... I just... er... I reckoned this was supposed to be a Coven Ritual,” said Harriet with a shy grin.
“Well, I think it’s really what’s inside you that counts, Harriet,” said Hermione kindly. “Just be whoever you want to be. I’ll be happy either way.”
Harriet grinned and pulled Hermione closer, taking it upon herself to relieve Hermione of her remaining pieces of clothing.
One of Harriet’s hands was already kneading Hermione’s firm breasts, her lips already wetly encircling one of Hermione’s tender pink nipples, and her fingers already traversing the silky skin of Hermione’s inner thighs when she could have sworn she heard squeals and giggles coming from the far end of the pond.
But all distractions fell away when Harriet felt Hermione’s lips nuzzling her neck and Hermione’s fingers seeking out her own heated entrance...

~o0o~
Hidden from view of the others by the leafy foliage, tall grasses and wildflowers, Ginny, Luna, and Parvati got underway. Luna wasted no time and was as naked as the day she had been born within seconds of arrival.
Parvati shrieked and giggled when Ginny and Luna began pulling all her clothes off. She blushed furiously when every inch of her was exposed to their eager eyes. While she and Luna had been “practicing,” they had remained more or less covered up with their hands reaching under t-shirts and into unzipped jeans.
This was the first time that Parvati had ever been completely nude in the presence of others, and her embarrassment only seemed to fuel the heady tingles of arousal sweeping through her. Luna pulled Parvati closer for a wet kiss and Parvati could feel Ginny’s hands parting her thighs for a closer look.
Parvati wriggled joyfully when she felt Ginny’s fingers brush against the trimmed black patch on her mound. She began to feel a bit dizzy when Luna’s hands mauled her breasts and Luna began hungrily sucking her long dark nipples, and when Ginny’s fingers finally stroked the pouting lips of her burning entrance Parvati let out a little gasp.
The gasp became a squeal of delight when two of the fingers plunged inside her and Ginny began teasing Parvati’s little button with the fingers of her other hand.
Nothing Parvati could remember had ever felt this good; being at the tender mercies of Ginny and Luna simultaneously made her fun with Luna the other day under Ginny’s watchful eye pale in comparison.
Parvati widened her thighs even more to allow Ginny greater access, and soon Ginny’s fingers were plunging to her depths, building up speed, the delicious friction inside her wet heat sending her into new transports of pleasure. A surge of giddiness finally tipped Parvati over the edge and she shuddered, squealing and bursting ecstatically.
For a moment, lost in the fog of ardour, gasping as she fell back onto the blanket, Parvati thought it was over. But Ginny had taken Luna’s place and was now pressed up against her, rubbing her own breasts against Parvati’s, and Parvati felt her thighs being parted once more.
Parvati squeaked and her eyes widened in shock when she felt Luna’s lips pressed against her slit.
“Luna... What...?” she giggled nervously when she felt Luna’s tongue inside her.
“Just go with it,” Ginny chortled, giving Parvati a kiss, “You’ll love it... I swear...”
Parvati did love it. And soon the three girls fell into a wanton scrum, squealing and giggling as they brought each other to climax again and again.

~o0o~
Jennifer beamed at Daphne and kissed her, stroking her beautiful blonde hair, still gasping as the euphoria ebbed, Daphne’s hand still resting between her bare thighs. The warmth of Daphne’s skin next to her own filled her with joy.
She had been more than a bit nervous at first, afraid that letting Daphne reciprocate might trigger a nasty reaction. But nothing could have been further from the truth. All Jennifer felt was loved. Jennifer bit her lip as her senses returned, eager for more.
Daphne felt a surge of elation when Jennifer leaned into the deepening kiss, glad that the other girl had finally overcome her anxiety. The blanket shifted under Daphne as she rolled onto her back with Jennifer atop her. She reached up to cup Jennifer’s breasts and gently squeeze them as Jennifer cradled Daphne’s bottom cheeks with her hands and slid one of her own legs between Daphne’s, grinding her wetness against Daphne’s thigh.
Soon, the grasses beneath the pair of witches and the foliage around them rustled again as the passion stirred them once more...

~o0o~
In between one of their own bouts of passion, Fleur got up on her hands and knees and peeked through the grasses when they heard squeals and giggles echo across the pond, seeing nothing but trembling bushes and reeds as the gathering clouds above caught the last pink rays of the setting sun. Dora chortled as she came up from behind and leaned against her girlfriend, her ample globes squashed against Fleur’s back.
“You were right Chérie,” Fleur tittered. “Just a leetle wine to loosen everyone up. Per’aps we get back to eet...?”
“Mmhmm... Sounds good,” Dora murmured in her ear, reaching around to fondle Fleur’s breasts “But stay right there. I like this position...”
Fleur’s eyes widened and a tremor of delight shot through her when she felt the tip of her metamorphmagus lover’s stiff magically endowed member pressing between the pink petals of her entrance.

~o0o~
Giddy with exhilaration after bringing each other to completion several times, Hermione had convinced Harriet that it was time to be a boy again. Now on her hands and knees, Hermione giggled, enticing Harry to take her from behind by wiggling her petit bottom at him.
Harry needed very little persuading; grinning, he leaned over Hermione’s backside and grasped her hips, sliding his length inside her.
As their passions resumed, Harry and Hermione both felt it - a rushing sensation - an almost volcanic surge of euphoria - one final burst of explosive ardour as they merged. Harry flooded Hermione’s vessel with his essence, both of them gasping, crying out as they were carried away by the currents of bliss swirling around the entire pond.
The cheerful sounds of ecstatic communion reverberated and as the purple shadows of dusk fell over the glade, multicoloured bolts of lightning crackled and arced across the rippling pond from one corner to another. The willows and evergreens swayed, limbs dancing in the turbulent gusts of wind sweeping through the trees.
Then it was over; silence and stillness reigned in the clearing with the pond as twilight passed into night.

~o0o~
Luna was the first to wake, finding herself in a tangle of limbs, inextricably entwined with Ginny and Parvati. Blinking, it took her a few moments to realise what she was seeing.
“We turned into fairies,” Luna squealed gleefully. “Ginny... Parvati... Wake up...”
Parvati and Ginny both stirred.
“Luna,” Ginny grumbled as she rubbed her eyes, “What’s going on?”
“Open your eyes silly! Look! We turned into fairies...”
“Oh my God!” squeaked Ginny, “I’m glowing! Why am I glowing?”

~o0o~
Harry wasn’t sure if he was awake or asleep. It appeared to be night, and he felt as if he were floating on gossamer, drifting through a sea of luminous stars, nestled in Hermione’s warm embrace. An ethereal swell of breathy tinkling music filled his soul with a sublime, peaceful joy, and tingles of magic rippled across his skin.
It was only when Hermione stirred and gasped that Harry was certain that he was awake. Though the night sky above was dark and clouded over, the glade surrounding the pond was lit with the silvery luminescence of a thousand tiny glowing fairies cheerfully flitting to and fro. The surface of the pond shimmered in their starry light.
The Potters held each other, gaping in wonderment at the beauty all around them, lost in the moment. The reverie was broken when a squeal of happiness caught their ears and Luna burst through the leafy foliage. Harry goggled for a moment before clapping a hand over his eyes and quickly yanking a bit of blanket over himself to cover his privates.
“Blimey Luna! Put on some clothes,” Harry moaned, his face blazing hotly.
“We’re fairies,” Luna shrieked gleefully, jumping up and down. “Look, Harry! ... We’re fairies!”
Caught off-guard, and embarrassed herself, it took Hermione a moment to realise what was happening. She glanced at Luna, herself, and Harry, her eyes widening. The silvery luminous glow in the glade wasn’t just coming from the fairies, but from themselves - their own wet nude figures - as well. That was when Hermione also noticed it was raining.
Hermione tugged on her knickers and t-shirt and threw Harry’s t-shirt and boxers at him, and not a moment too soon. Ginny and Parvati had arrived behind Luna, gasping and out of breath as they had hurriedly dressed before chasing after Luna. Harry groaned and turned around as he quickly pulled on his boxers.
“Hermione,” Ginny squeaked anxiously, “I can’t be glowing! I can’t be... I can’t go back to Hogwarts like this!”
And mere seconds later, Fleur and Dora appeared, both glowing and looking equally perplexed. Harry counted his blessings that they at least had all taken the time to dress, and did his best not to look at Luna who was still bouncing on her toes and waving her arms as if hoping to take flight like the tiny fairies fluttering around them all.
“So... er... why are we glowing Hermione?” asked Harry.
“I... I really have no idea Harry,” Hermione was utterly flummoxed as she held up her glowing arm to the night sky. “Maybe it’s something to do with the ancient enchantment on the pond?” Hermione peered at Fleur, wondering if the part-Veela had any ideas.
Feeling a bit less embarrassed, Harry rubbed his chin pensively and glanced at the statues of the Faun and the Water-Nymph, wondering if they held any answers. Something about the Naiad in particular rang a bell.
“Hermione... er... These statues - there’s something about them. D’you think they might have something t’do with it?” he asked.
Hermione considered things for a moment, and realised that Harry might be onto something.
“Well...” Hermione raised an eyebrow at her metamorphic husband and Dora and the Greek statues, half-smirked, and looked at their part-Siren friend Fleur again. “...Has anyone heard of the myth of Hermaphroditus?”
There was some more rustling of foliage indicating that Daphne and Jennifer had finally arrived. Daphne looked a bit frightened. For a moment the Coven peered around the illuminated glade and at each other’s glowing figures in bewilderment as the raindrops fell.
“So, what’s going on? Why are we glowing?” Jennifer asked, raising her eyebrows and smirking at Luna who was quivering with excitement.
“I think we turned into fairies,” said Luna eagerly. “Hermione was just going to tell us how...”
“Well... er... I wouldn’t say that exactly, Luna,” Hermione interjected, her face reddening even through the silvery luminescence radiating from her skin. “We really shouldn’t jump to conclusions. I... I was just going to make some inferences and speculations based on the symbolism of some of the Greek myths associated with some of the statues surrounding the pond - they were obviously placed here when the manor was originally built in the 16th century...”
“That’s right,” said Jennifer. “When Daddy bought the place, that’s what the estate agent told him. The Countess who originally lived here had this whole place built here just because she liked the pond - she’s the one who had the statues put around it.”
“Right,” said Hermione as she geared up for lecture mode, “but the magic here feels much older - predating the Romans even by many hundreds of years. So I think the Countess might have been magical and sensed the enchantment at this site then - or she knew about it somehow...”
“If the Countess was a witch, maybe she was descended from one of the original inhabitants?” Harry proffered.
“That’s certainly a possibility,” agreed Hermione. “There’s really no way to be certain when we’re talking about thousands of years before her time even.”
“So, what were you going to tell us about the myth of Hermaphroditus?” asked Luna.
“Well, one of the versions of the myth of Hermaphroditus - who was the son of Aphrodite and Hermes - involves a Naiad...” Hermione began.
“Oh... you mean the son of Aphrodite, the Greek Sorceress who guards our corridor?” Daphne interrupted, glimmering with surprise.
“Possibly... that’s not very likely actually,” Hermione smiled kindly at Daphne as she tried to explain. “You have to understand, muggles built up a lot of myths and legends around ancient sorcerers, and many were made out to be gods and goddesses, or demons, and that sort of thing.
“And many of the stories associated with ancient witches and wizards are actually based on earlier stories from even older human societies, and prehistoric beliefs about nature spirits from before writing was invented. So it’s all a mixed up jumble really, and it would be very difficult to sort out which stories have a basis in fact, and which were just made up to explain natural phenomenon and human nature.
“In any case, in Ovid’s version of the myth, Hermaphroditus was born a boy and one day he encountered a Naiad - a Water Nymph - named Salmacis at her pond. She was smitten by him and tried to seduce him, and he was... er... a bit reticent,” Hermione flushed in embarrassment at telling a story which featured a lack of consent.
“So she forcibly embraced and kissed him, and begged the gods to let them never be parted. The gods granted her wish, but in a way that she probably didn’t expect. Salmacis and Hermaphroditus were merged into one being, and so Hermaphroditus who had entered the pond as a boy, exited as a ‘creature of both sexes’... both boy and girl.
“The upshot is, that Hermaphroditus prayed to his parents to curse the pond to change any man who enters it into half man, half woman...”
“Well that’s not a very nice story,” squeaked Daphne, who started to look alarmed again.
“You’re right, it’s not,” said Hermione. “I was really just joking a bit because of the irony of our situation... the magic pond, the Greek symbolism, Harry being able to change from a boy into a girl... and Dora being able to change from a girl into a boy if she wanted to, for that matter”
“But you don’t have to worry Daphne... I didn’t curse the pond. I promise!” Harry grinned. “It’s not a bad thing - whatever happened to us is good... I just know it! But it is oddly coincidental...”
“And it’s actually just one of many myths about Hermaphroditus,” Hermione added quickly. “It’s a later version by Ovid of how Hermaphroditus came to have both boy and girl parts. The symbolism of Hermaphroditus him/herself had already long stood as a representation of marriage and love - the joining of both sexes... And that’s really the most important bit - the bit I was leading up to...”
Parvati gasped.
“That’s a bit like some of the stories in some of Mum and Dad’s books from India,” Parvati interjected, blushing furiously through her own silvery luminous glow. “I’m actually glad that most wizards don’t read muggle myths.... I don’t think I could have lived it down if everyone at Hogwarts knew that my name comes from a love goddess - Parvati, the consort of Shiva. And in some of the later myths, Parvati and Shiva merge to become Ardhanarishvara: ‘the Lord Who is Half-Woman.’”
“Exactly!” Hermione agreed, gleaming. “I think what these characters and stories embody is most important. They shouldn’t be taken too literally. It’s the mythic symbolism which has the most bearing on the Magic. Aphrodite, Pan, Eros, Hermaphroditus, etc... their stories are symbols.
“Fertility, Sexuality, Marriage, Love - all Creative, life affirming acts and rituals... That’s what these particular mythological beings in these particular stories most represent. And I expect this site used to be one where groups of Celtic witches - very likely Covens - performed Sex Rituals not unlike what we experienced here this afternoon.
“In a sense... this is literally Hallowed Ground! And I think we may have inadvertently triggered the Ancient Enchantment - reactivated it - by re-enacting some of the Sex Rituals which created it to begin with.
“And I feel exactly like I did in that lab we found in the Department of Mysteries!” exclaimed Harry eagerly, feeling absolutely certain that Hermione was on the right track. “The one with that glowing ‘Orb of Love.’ D’you think there’s a connection Hermione?”
“I think there might be Harry,” Hermione nodded slowly. “That may be why the Fairies are attracted to this area - or perhaps the Fairies were here first and attracted the witches. In any case, Harry, it would seem to fit with what Dumbledore told us after the Third Task. He told us that he hadn’t detected magic like ours in modern Britain and Europe, except in the most ancient magical places for witchcraft, and also in some schools for witches in Asia.”
Fleur had been listening intently the entire time. Her breath quickened as she felt a thrill of understanding, a connection to her Veela heritage in a way she never had before.
“Oui, zat makes much sense,” said Fleur. “It was told to me by my grandmother, that Veela also have an affinity for such places - and that we are related to these little creatures flying around us now - zese Fairies... I do not know enough to know for certain, but at this moment, it feels true.
“When Veela dance and sing, when Veela experience joy, when Veela love - there is something about our spirit which makes us glow, like zis... But as only a small part Veela, I ‘ave never experienced it as strong as this before.
“Per’aps zat means Luna is onto something, not so much that we are all turning into Fairies, but rather, that as witches - as magical humans - our spirits are now of such a high frequency that we are in alignment with ze Fairies... We cannot help but glow as they do, as the Veela do...”
“I knew it!” Luna beamed.
Parvati’s eyes widened again and she quivered with excitement when another thought occurred to her.
“That actually fits some of the other bits that I’ve read of my Mum and Dad’s books if it’s true,” said Parvati. “If someone practices certain types of yoga long enough, they can activate something called the Kundalini Shakti. It’s the primal Female Energy which the Universe is supposedly created from. And when people produce a lot of it, their auras are supposed to be so bright that everyone can see them...”
“Shakti the goddess is also the personification of the Shakti energy from what I remember reading in my Auntie Joanne’s books on Hinduism,” Hermione mused. “In some schools of thought, she’s worshipped as the Supreme Being - the top of the Hindu pantheon... and isn’t Parvati just another name for Shakti?”
Parvati’s silvery glow reddened again as she grimaced and nodded, glistening in the rain.
“Yes... but she’s got loads of other names too,” Parvati squeaked. “It depends on which aspect she’s displaying at any given time.”
“So I guess in a way this more or less proves I really do have a female soul then?” said Harry. “But I still don’t quite get how that all squares with the hermaphrodite stuff, the... er... the androgyny... Even with a female soul and being able to turn into a girl, but primarily being a guy, how is it possible to activate this magic if it’s primarily generated by females? I mean, I turned back into a guy partway through while we were... er... doing it a little while ago.”
Dora had been thinking about it the whole time, wondering exactly what Harry was wondering as she listened, and suddenly everything seemed to fall into place.
“Because we all have male and female aspects to our natures,” Dora said, flourescing brightly as her eyes widened with a flare of gnosis. “Maybe we don’t all ‘ave the outer physical potential to be both, like you and me Harry, but we must all have male and female aspects of our spirits and our souls - even though one might be more dominant than the other.
“In our group, we might all be predominantly female on the inside, including you Harry... but ultimately we girls must’ve ‘ad to activate both aspects of our own energy to trigger the magic too - the male aspect inside of us as well. It must be necessary to ‘ave both parts activated to bring us to this level of magic. That’s what the myths about the bisexual and androgynous deities seem to be sayin’ anyway.
“I suppose when we girls ‘ave sex with each other, at any given time, someone is taking on the ‘male’ role, and the physical act was enough symbolically to activate the male aspects of our spirits. That probably goes both ways... guys ‘ave to be able to activate the female aspect in themselves to make it work - and yours is already active Harry.”
“Okay... yeah,” Harry nodded as he pensively chewed his lip. “Yeah, I think I get that.”
“Of course! That’s it Dora!” Hermione beamed. “Obviously some men have historically achieved such high frequency levels of magic... They must have. But it must be much more difficult because most men aren’t comfortable at all with their feminine aspects. They’re afraid of it and aren’t willing to let that side of themselves grow strong.
“Maybe not so many women are put off exploring both sides of their natures, and maybe that’s why most of the successful Covens have been all witches. Perhaps in the ones with men that worked, they were willing to take on female sexual roles during the rituals,” Hermione concluded.
“Well, considering that loads of guys still seem to think that they’re superior to women, it’s not that much of a surprise really,” said Harry. “Most guys think being ‘girly’ is a bad thing.”
“Yes, but it’s actually not so bad in the wizard world as it still is in much of the muggle world really,” said Hermione. “For all of its problems, and the misogyny that still does exist to a degree, in some respects, gender relations are a bit more equal than they are in the muggle world.”
“It’s not perfect parity by any means,” Hermione continued. “I know that there’s vestiges of patriarchy left in the Wizengamot, what with mostly men being Heads of the Pureblood Houses - and openly gay wizards aren’t treated very well. But look at all the powerful witches throughout history, and gay and bisexual witches seem to be generally accepted.
“Even today there’s lots of witches with power - even though some of them are quite dreadful at the moment. It’s only the most retrograde families that want to reinstate things like forced marriage contracts and human slavery.”
“That’s a good point Hermione,” said Dora. “Though with a witch as ‘orrible as Umbridge running things right now - she seems dead set on bringing some of that sort of thing back ‘erself - at least when it comes to Purebloods lording it over ‘lesser’ witches and muggle women.”
“Yes... that’s very true!” Hermione said sadly. “But once she’s gone, and we’ve cleaned up the Ministry a bit, things will hopefully at least go back to the way things were before recently...”
“Yeah,” Harry interjected, looking hopeful, “...and then we can start trying to improve things in the Wizengamot - push for a more democratic structure so that it’s more representative of modern wizard society and other sentient magical beings.”
Hermione smiled at her dripping husband as the shimmering Coven fell into a contemplative silence, growing soggier as the rain grew heavier. Only the tinkling sound of the delighted fairies flittering around them, and the thrumming of the rain on the blades of grass and the surface of the pond could be heard.
“So how long is this glowing going to last, do you think?” Ginny asked, hoping that it would be gone by morning.
“And what does all this mean for our magic?” asked Harry, hoping that it meant that the rest of the Coven would now be able to produce Patronuses like his and Hermione’s.
“I really don’t know,” Hermione sighed. “We’ll just have to see in the morning, and start doing some more research.”
Hermione was lost in thought all the way back to the manor, barely even noticing the heavy snowfall once they had passed the border of the enchantment.

~o0o~
Fortunately for Ginny, the silvery luminous glow of their auras had faded by the time the Coven awoke the following morning, and she departed through Phineas Nigellus’s picture after giving Luna a kiss goodbye.
Hermione still didn’t have a good answer when she woke for what the glowing meant for their magic in practical terms. They were in completely uncharted territory. Fleur was the only member of the Coven who had ever experienced the phenomenon at all, but never as strongly before, and only because she was part Veela. There was no knowing for certain what it meant for everyone else.
Hermione dug out the books which she had been reading to Harry before the Coven had gone on their mission and pored through them at the breakfast table after eating a few quick spoonfuls of porridge and a crumpet. Everyone else watched her intently while they ate, hoping for good news. Hermione frowned and bit her lip, finally looking up from the books.
“Well, my best guess is that what happened at the pond was probably exactly what we needed to do to perform Coven spells at their full potential. If so, then that means the rest of you should be able to do Patronuses like me and Harry now - at least when we’re conjuring them all together in ‘Cult-Mode’...”
“Excellent!” said Harry, grinning from ear to ear. As far as he was concerned, that made putting up with the embarrassment of having sex with Hermione in the near vicinity of the others worthwhile.
“...but I still don’t really know what the glowing has to do with it, other than what Fleur surmised last night,” Hermione sighed. “There’s really nothing in these books about auras... which seems a bit odd. I suppose I’ll just have to wait until I get a chance to see if the library at Hogwarts has anything about them.”
“I don’t know if they’ll be any help, but there are some books about auras in my Mum and Dad’s library,” Jennifer suggested eagerly, her eyebrows raised.
That got everyone moving. In no time flat they were all cleaned up and rummaging through the library, pulling books from the shelves looking for the ones about auras.
“Cor... look at all these books of magic!” Dora exclaimed.
“Yeah... those were mostly my father’s - he was a bit New Agey,” Jennifer explained. “Dad was more into that sort of thing than Mum - she was into it a bit for fun, but she tended to be more skeptical.”
“I don’t understand,” Daphne muttered. “I thought muggles didn’t know anything about magic.”
“Well loads of this is probably rubbish,” said Harry as he flipped through a book which reminded him uncomfortably of the useless books he’d had to purchase for Divination. “Some muggles make up a lot of stuff and believe it’s real. I suppose some of them even think they really are magical...”
“Hmmm...” Hermione’s brows furrowed in thought as she leafed through a book about Tantric Yoga after skimming through several books of Occultism and Neopaganism.
Recognising the tone of Hermione’s “Hmmm,” Harry raised his eyebrows and grinned. “Really Hermione?”
“Well... I’m not so sure what to think anymore Harry. Here... look at these pictures of Chakras in this Tantric Yoga book - what do they remind you of?”
“Hunh... that’s interesting! They look a bit like some of the pictures in the addendum at the end of The Wizarding Edition of the Tai Chi Classics.”
“Yes... they do Harry,” Hermione agreed. “They’re pictures of the major energy centres of the human form - the Chinese system is just more detailed and depicts all of the minor points and the meridians as well.
“If that were all there was to it, I wouldn’t think anything of it, because we already know that all humans have some limited ability to control their own magical energy fields. But what is indicated in the text as possible for anyone to achieve - regardless of genetic predisposition - appears to go beyond what ought to be possible.
“Now, of course that could just be wishful thinking on the part of the muggles who wrote these books. But the level of detail in the instructions is highly suggestive that a lot of trial and error went into it, which in turn implies that this is more than just someone’s fantasy...”
Hermione pointed to several of the other books on the table. “...And at least one of those books of Muggle Occultism seems to be extremely accurate regarding the way magic works - too accurate to be coincidence or simple guesswork. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if some of the spells in it would actually work for someone with magical abilities.”
“But wouldn’t the Ministry and the International Confederation of Wizards try and keep books about real magic out of muggle hands?” Daphne asked in bewilderment.
“Per’aps zey are not so concerned about books written by muggles, because muggles have no magical ability?” Fleur mused.
A little shiver of excitement ran up Harry’s spine as something clicked in his brain and he shared a look with Hermione, his eyes wide. The rest of the Coven held their breath, sensing that the Potters were on the verge of an illuminating revelation.
“Hermione, if muggles really were totally non-magical then shouldn’t it be impossible for any of them to learn how to do some of the amazing things that some of them manage to do - even after decades of practice? ...like muggle Shaolin Monks...”
“...and muggle Hindu Yogis, and muggle Tibetan Lamas... among others. One would think so Harry.” Hermione bit her lip as her breath began to quicken.
“Before I found out I was a witch, I didn’t really believe in any of those sorts of things. Like Mum and Dad, I thought it was all explainable through standard scientific methods or otherwise fraudulent. I was very confused and upset when unusual things would happen around me until the day I got my Hogwarts letter.
“And I think you’re partially correct Fleur,” Hermione continued. “But for some muggles to write such accurate books about magic, they’d have to have some sort of experience with it.
“To answer your question Daphne, it’s probably almost impossible for wizards to control all of the information about magic because so much of it is tied into Muggle religions, myths, and legends - and most wizard governments probably don’t even bother to try because they know that a lot of it is made-up... and I expect they think that the bits that are real don’t matter because they believe that Muggles have no magical abilities at all...”
“But what if they do?” Harry interjected eagerly. “What if all humans have magical genes Hermione...?”
“Exactly Harry! They might be in everyone - but Recessive in most people - like they were in Jennifer - just waiting to be activated!” Hermione exclaimed, quivering excitedly. “But for the vast majority of humans it never happens because it takes decades of diligent practice to activate them... and very few people are able or willing to actually put in the effort...”
“Hermione, maybe THAT’S why the Pureblood Supremacists in the Ministry are so worried and are claiming that Dumbledore is training Muggles how to be wizards...” Harry postulated. “We all know it’s rubbish of course - that they’re just making it up about Dumbledore - but what if the Unspeakables in the Department of Mysteries really are worried that he actually might work out how to turn muggles into wizards?”
“That... that could be why they’re bein’ so harsh and killing off muggleborns!” Dora gasped.
“Yeah...” Harry agreed. “Maybe it’s not for the same reason they used to hate muggles at all. Maybe now Purebloods - at least the ones in the Department of Mysteries - hate muggles and muggleborn wizards because they’re afraid they won’t be so Superior and Special as more and more wizards are born to muggle families... The Purebloods that are smart know that their days of lording it over everyone are numbered and they’re trying to hang onto power at any cost...”
“Does... does that mean that one day in the future all humans might be born magical then?” asked Daphne.
Eyes as wide as saucers, Hermione slowly nodded. Luna grinned, as if she had suspected it all along.
“It might...” Hermione replied. “If what we’re inferring is true, then there are muggles right now who have turned themselves into wizards of a sort - who have somehow activated their magical genes and learned to perform some rudimentary or limited magical techniques - but who aren’t generally believed to be magical by most other muggles, or by born wizards...”
“So wizards really aren’t any more inherently magical than muggles,” said Harry confidently. “It’s just that we were born with more natural ability to control the magic than other people do because our genes are activated.”
“Y...yes, that’s a bit oversimplified Harry. Obviously there’s a bit more to it, given the long wizarding family lines. But I’m really thinking that’s basically the right of it in a nutshell,” Hermione beamed.

~o0o~
The next few days leading up to New Year’s Eve passed happily and lazily for the Potters and their friends. Whatever dark thoughts and feelings still lurking in the shadows of their souls since their encounter with the Inferi and the raid on the Ministry’s Concentration Camp had been largely swept away by the Coven Ritual.
To his great surprise, Harry was able to actually enjoy just laying about reading and watching television without feeling agitated or restless. It felt good to just let himself go for once. And of course having Hermione to cuddle didn’t hurt.
But of course once New Year’s Eve day arrived, the anticipation began to build as the evening drew nearer. Even lounging on the sofa with Hermione snuggled under one arm, a mug of hot cocoa in one hand, and Crookshanks sprawled across their laps wasn’t enough to distract Harry from the fact that Dumbledore would soon be calling.
Finally, shortly before six pm, Harry was staring into Dumbledore’s clear blue eyes in the mirror, eagerly awaiting Dumbledore’s tidings. Dumbledore seemed pleased to see Harry’s enthusiasm.
“Well, I hope the timing isn’t too inconvenient,” said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling, “I know that many enjoy a good libation on New Year’s Eve. But I am hoping that you will all be able to join us at Narcissa Black’s estate tomorrow morning at 7 am.”
“Of course we can Professor Dumbledore!” Harry responded excitedly. Hermione and the others nodded as they were all listening with bated breath. “So, are we going to...”
“...Retake Hogwarts?” Dumbledore interjected, his eyes twinkling. “Yes indeed! And I have you and Mrs Potter to thank for inspiring the plan of attack. With the element of surprise, we should hopefully be able to minimise casualties on all sides...”
“We’re going to use the pictures then?”
“Indeed!” replied Dumbledore. “There are a number of other paintings here at Madam Black’s which are copies of those at Hogwarts, so we shall be able to move several teams into the castle all at once. Now, I must be going as I have a pressing engagement. However, you may wish to turn on your Wiz-Vision...”

~o0o~
“Some more Wine, Percy?”
“Oh... er... Yes please, Dolores.” Percy cheerfully held out his goblet as his mentor refilled it.
Percy was feeling much better about things after deciding that he and Penelope really didn’t belong together after all. Dolores was right; there were many other lovely young Pureblood women, and a man of his station - the youngest Senior Undersecretary in history - should have no problem ensnaring one for himself.
Taking a sip from his freshly filled goblet, Percy returned his attention to the Wiz-Vision screen for the final news broadcast of the year.
The splendidly coiffed William O’Hannity was regaling his cohost Endora with his well considered opinion on the news of the day when suddenly the screen went snowy. For a moment it went black altogether. Percy and Dolores regarded the Wiz-Vision with puzzlement as the image returned.
Wine sprayed from their mouths and their eyes bulged in shock; the Minister and her deputy would have recognised those clear blue eyes and that long silvery beard anywhere. They both gaped in horror as the former Headmaster of Hogwarts announced what they were just about to witness.

~o0o~
Having concluded his very important mirror-call to Harry Potter in private, Albus Dumbledore took a seat in the elegant armchair in Monsieur Delacour’s sitting room with Henri Delacour, his wife Appoline, Olympe Maxime, and the three others who had been invited.
Albus regarded the three most important members of the ICW Committee for the Investigation of Statutory Violations with twinkling eyes as they took their own seats. Henri poured everyone glasses of wine from his own private reserve.
“Vell, Dumbledore... I hope you haff much more for us to go on zis time,” snapped Angelika Machschnell, the stern German witch who headed the ICW’s investigatory committee.
“And you must remember Albus, there is very little we can do regarding internal blood-status policies unless they threaten to spill over to the International Stage,” the Greek wizard from the committee added with an oily tone.
“Ah, indeed I do Pericles,” Dumbledore warmly replied. “I may be getting on in my years, but it has not been so long since I was Supreme Mugwump after all...”
“Though, if certain rumours prove to be true, surely there must be something that we at the ICW can do to help Britain!” interjected the Nigerian witch, narrowing her eyes at the other two committee members.
“Oui! Olubunmi speaks wiz compassion and wisdom Monsieur Papadopoulos,” said Madame Maxime haughtily. “If ze British Ministry ees employing the methods of Grindelwald and Voldemort, eet is imperative zat those with a powerful voice speak up to convince the rest of the Wizengamot to act.
“You see what is happening around ze world - Blood-Extremists everywhere are emboldened! If Britain falls, ozzers take notice and then where are we?...” Olympe continued.
“Thank you Olympe, Olubunmi,” Dumbledore interjected pointedly. “I am certain that Pericles and Angelika will make the most appropriate decision. I do not expect the ICW to join a potential civil war on one side or another. All I ask for the time-being is that the current laws against collusion with muggle heads of state, and against muggle oppression be upheld...”
Henri Delacour cleared his throat and took a swig of his wine, thinking it was probably best to not mention that he and Olympe had already mobilised a number of French forces to assist Dumbledore’s people. It wasn’t illegal for private alliances across international borders, but some in the ICW might frown on it nonetheless. Henri swallowed the mouthful of wine and listened to Albus’s mellifluous voice as the true Headmaster of Hogwarts continued.
“...Though I daresay that in the future, it is my hope that what you are about to witness will cause the ICW to revisit the International Secrecy Statutes. It is my contention that the strictures are far too narrow.
“As it stands, the Statutes allow for some interaction between wizards and muggles at only the Highest Level of State, with only a single point of contact between governments - Ministers and Presidents of Magic with muggle Presidents and Prime Ministers. Thus leaving the unwitting muggle public at large at the mercy of those in power with no recourse when the most virulent and mendacious members of the ruling classes of both societies have assumed control.
“In my view, this is a recipe for political disaster for the muggle world, to say nothing of our own. In any case, please bear with me - the broadcast is about to begin...”
“Hmmmph... I suppose you might have something there Albus,” muttered Pericles, eyeing the Wiz-Vision in distaste.
“Indeed!” Dumbledore chuckled. “I did also bring all the relevant evidence with me to turn over to the committee - the following broadcast is largely for the British wizarding public, but it is a good overview of my case against the Minister...”
Tuned to the British Wiz-Vision feed as it was, Henri Delacour’s screen was currently displaying the WVN evening news. The image and sound broke up with a burst of distortion and faded to black, before returning with the pre-recorded video the Order had made for the pirated broadcast.
Taking a sip from his own wine-glass, Albus Dumbledore noted the reactions of the ICW committee members with great interest. Olubunmi’s tears and stifled sobs were expected - Albus had always appreciated her compassion and humanity. But the horrified expression on Angelika’s face when she saw the footage of the corpses in the Death Chamber and the prisoners - including the child - gave him a grim sense of satisfaction. Pericles was harder to read, a twitching muscle on his temple the only evidence of emotion.
All three of the committee members were rapt with attention when the Dumbledore on the Wiz Vision screen presented the evidence from the files liberated during both the rescue of Arthur Weasley, and the raid on the Ministry Death Camp.
The pre-recorded Dumbledore described the contents: lists of enemies, supporters and recruits, details of operations, plans for the “detention facilities,” lists of the detained and the killed, among many other details. Dumbledore pointed to the file which confirmed that the entire story of Dick Turpentine and wand-stealing muggleborn rebels was an utter fabrication concocted by the Minister and the Unspeakable Office.
He explained the Inferi, and Bellatrix Lestrange’s role in their creation under Ministry auspices, showing the recovered implements of torture and necromancy on-screen, and replaying the footage which revealed the tridecagram on the floor of the Death Chamber next to the stacks of corpses.
Dumbledore punctuated the information with the footage depicting Thorfinn Rowle’s presence at the compound as evidence confirming that the Minister had recruited those of Voldemort’s Death Eaters who had been interned in Azkaban for their previous crimes.
Finally, the Dumbledore on the Wiz Vision was shown interviewing several of the rescued prisoners, muggleborn wizards and muggles, including the MI5 analyst and her daughter, confirming the collusion between Minister Umbridge and the muggle Prime Minister.
When it was over, one could have heard a pin drop in Henri Delacour’s sitting room, and Albus Dumbledore was nearly certain that he finally had the ICW Committee in his corner. Dame Machschnell was a hard-nosed character and a stickler for rules, but Dumbledore’s hope for her sense of honour and human decency appeared to have been rewarded.
“Vell Albus, zis is quite shocking,” said the Head of the Committee. “Vhen ze evidence you haff brought confirms your allegations, I can assure you zat our committee shall begin an immediate investigation...”
“Angelika will have my complete support of course,” Olubunmi interjected, her nostrils flaring angrily as she dabbed at her tears.
“If the rest of your evidence substantiates these... images... Albus, I suppose I can offer my own recommendation in support of an investigation,” Pericles added silkily.
Angelika Machschnell rolled her eyes at the Greek committee member; she was the head of the committee after all, and all she needed was Olubunmi's second to carry the motion to investigate.
“I cannot promise zat the vote of ze entire ICW vill go your way of course Albus, but vot you haff presented is very damning and quite convincing!” said Angelika firmly. “My committee can certainly Censure your Minister Umbridge, and introduce a motion to ze Wizengamot to Sanction her administration, and to issue an International Warrant for her arrest, should she dare to step on foreign soil...”

~o0o~
Before he had completed the mirror-call with Harry, Dumbledore had cautioned him that some of the footage filmed during the raid on the Ministry’s Death Camp would be shown during the broadcast over the hacked Wiz-Vision feed, though edited to keep their identities concealed.
Forewarned, the Coven had braced themselves for the ugly images that they knew were coming.
It had been hard to relive the sickening scenes again, but they had managed it, feeling an odd mix of relief and sadness that the rest of the wizard world would finally see what the Ministry was really up to. And with the anticipation of what the New Year would bring, sleep seemed a distant possibility that night, but one by one, slumber gradually took them all.
The second to last person to fall asleep was Harry, still anxiously contemplating the plan to retake Hogwarts, hoping that it wouldn’t turn into a bloodbath - hoping that what they found there wouldn’t drive him to lose control of himself. When Hermione felt her husband’s tension melt in her embrace she finally relaxed enough to let oblivion take her.

~o0o~
“Too bloody early - it’s New Year’s! Leave me alone...” Ron grumbled as someone tapped his cheek. The tapper ignored Ron’s complaints and gently patted his cheek again.
“Come on Ron; wake up! You’ve been asleep for long enough... or are you just going to sleep your whole life away then?”
The voice sounded familiar, but it was one which Ron hadn’t heard in quite some time. It must be a dream... or a nightmare! Blearily Ron opened his eyes as his senses jangled. His surroundings were unfamiliar and pink - pink bedding, pink curtains, pink carpet, pink wallpaper - but the countenance which peered at him was a face he knew all too well and Ron’s trepidation turned into alarm.
“Bloody Hell!” Ron gasped, feeling naked when he realised that he was all alone and that he didn’t have his wand. “Percy! Where am I? What’s going on?”
“It’s alright Ron - you’re safe!” said Percy in a soothing tone. “Nobody’s going to hurt you...”
“Like hell! I know what you did to Dad,” snarled Ron, beginning to panic. “What happened to you Perce...?”
“Believe me Ron, I hated that I had to do that! But our father has been in cahoots with Dumbledore for donkey’s years. He’s a traitor Ron...”
“Rubbish!” shouted Ron. “You’re completely mental...”
“Ron... Please, calm down! Hear me out!” Percy pleaded, and Ron quieted.
“I promise - I’m not going to hurt you,” continued Percy. “I know you’re Potter’s best friend, but I’m also aware that you don’t really know who he truly is... or who Dumbledore really is...”
“What are you on about Percy? I’m not...” Ron trailed off, his heart pounding. It suddenly struck him that it might not be in his best interests to tell Percy that he hadn’t been Harry’s best mate since the First Task of the Triwizard Tournament. “You... you don’t seriously expect me to believe all that barmy stuff about Harry and Dumbledore being violent criminals do you...?”
“Yes... yes I do Ron! You know what they’re capable of - what happened to the Malfoys...”
“The Malfoys? You must be joking! They had it coming... and... and Ginny told me what really happened to Draco Malfoy! I’m surprised you haven’t tried to arrest her too!” said Ron angrily. “Since when did you turn into a Slytherin, Perce?”
Despite everything that he knew about Percy, Ron could hardly believe what he was hearing.
Percy had always been a bit of pompous git - a bossy know-it-all who thought he was better than everyone else - and Ron had always known that his brother was exceedingly ambitious. But Ron had never imagined that Percy would ever go so far, and seeing his older brother peering at him with concern, it was still hard for Ron to accept that he had actually come to believe all that Pureblood rubbish.
“Ron... please!” Percy rolled his eyes, trying to control his temper. He needed Ron. It wouldn't do to antagonise him, but it was high time that Ron grew up. “It’s long past time to put aside House prejudices...” Percy continued, “for the sake of the wizard world. If we want to put an end to all of this strife - if you want to save your friends - we need to work together...”
“Whaddya mean, ‘work together’...?” Ron asked suspiciously.
“We need to stop the violence before it gets worse Ron - before it tears the wizard world apart. A lot of people still look up to Harry Potter. And as long as Potter follows Dumbledore down the path of madness and chaos, people will continue to blindly follow behind him...”
“You can help bring the violence to an end Ron,” Percy continued earnestly. “As his friend, you might be able to get through to Potter like no others can. If you help us end this Ron, you’ll be a hero! Go on the Wiz-Vision - tell Potter to turn himself in - and I promise, I’ll do everything I can to see that Potter is treated fairly...”
“Never! You’re barking if you think...”
“How many more must die Ron? What will it take to convince you? Please... think about it!”
Percy peered at Ron, considering other approaches. Following Dumbledore’s pirated broadcast, the Minister and her Senior Undersecretary knew that they would have to move fast to counter his spin on the revelation of the death and destruction at the Ministry’s detention facility, before people had a chance to give Dumbledore’s warped perspective and lies any credence.
It was imperative for the wizard world to see that Dumbledore and his protege would fabricate any story to justify their attacks on the Ministry, and that what the Ministry was doing was necessary for the preservation of wizarding society as a whole. If they could see that even Potter’s best friends had turned against him...
“Ron, haven’t you ever wondered why we were so poor? Why Dad never got ahead at the Ministry? Didn’t you ever stop to think about why other wizard families always looked down on us and mocked our name? ...”
Ron scowled at Percy.
AN:
@ Wildstorm: Thank you! ... :-) ...Even though I had intended to write this story first, and used most of the material developed for it in HFLP, I'm really glad I wrote HFLP first. It gave me a chance to work plot details out thoroughly and develop my writing, and character development skills. I think this story is better for it.
In regards to your query, My major stories all tend to center on hetero(ish) and f/f relationships most heavily, largely because they reflect my own perspective--much like Harry in this story and HFLP, I tend to be a bit "ambiguous" and fluid when it comes to my own gender identity (rather than being fully "Trans"), though my sexual preference is strongly for women.
My Harry Potter/Wizards of Waverly Place crossover features totally-straight!Harry in a threesome with Hermione and Alex Russo (Selena Gomez). But even there, it is indicated that Hermione enjoys a little "hot girl on girl action" with Alex.
@ NorthwindTweak: Thank you! ... :-) ...I will continue this story until completion or my laptop dies... whichever comes first (and if my laptop does croak, I'll eventually figure something out).
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