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Deck of Cards	By : SomethingElse Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 3992 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-November 3rd, 7:25 P.M.
- 2-November 4th, 10:00 P.M.
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- 2
AN: This is a little gift for everyone who has followed my stories and is now wondering what the H happened? I think, when I asked for ideas about what future stories to work on, I accidentally stepped over the line of what is considered a poll, so I've fixed the updates, but in the meantime, while checking to see if they've e-mailed me, I found out the e-mail that I use for this site was canceled, because I've been using my school address predominantly for the last couple of years.
So, I updated the e-mail, cleaned up the posts, and now I'm waiting for the stories to be returned. In response to the reviewers who wanted them back, I've decided to post the beginning of one of the stories that were to start when Tommy finished.
And, here it is:
Deck of Cards
The war is over and Harry is learning a new respect for magic. Suddenly, he finds himself in the middle of a new battle, but this time he's got to save the pure-bloods from a new crazed dark lord. HP/DM, NL/PP, other pairings to follow. Non-epilogue compliant.
Warnings include, but not limited to - NC, Anal, Angst, Oral, CBT, Rim, M/F, M/M, Preg, Rape, Toys, Scat, WS, Fingering, Minor2, WIP
Chapter One: November 3^rd, 7:25 P.M.
Six Months.
It had been six months since the battle of Hogwarts and life was just getting back to some semblance of normal. Was that too much to ask for?
Harry ground his teeth as an internal response, but kept hurrying up the stairs to the tower, where Hermione, Ginny, and the others were waiting for his news.
And boy, did Harry have news.
The stairs were with him as he climbed, seemed Hogwarts finally recognized him as a trusted ally, and he made good time.
Magic still amazed and awed the muggle-raised young man, but the magic of a place like this castle just mystified him. How could a pile of stones and mortar become a sentient being, able to make judgment calls that had saved the lives of at least ten of Harry's friends and school mates.
His mind flashed him images of Fred, Remus, Tonks and Colin, lying in the Great Hall, so pale and broken looking one second, then alive and breathing the next
Hogwarts had done that.
The castle had masked the injured witches and wizards, giving them the illusion of death, until help had come to take them to a safer part of her geography. There, they could be treated. The damages inflicted upon the walls and ramparts were mostly illusion, too. The headmistress had told him that what few places had fallen, had reformed within a week.
Others owed their lives to the magic castle, too.
Snape had nearly died, but his body had been found, in a bubble of magic stasis, so that the anti-venom and blood replenishing potions could be administered that brought him out of danger.
The Malfoys were alive, thanks to the intervention of the castle, when distraught fighters had targeted them. Their curses were intercepted by convenient banners and tapestries that had previously hung over the windows of the Great Hall.
Harry would have smiled at the memory of the aurors, trying to arrest Draco and Narcissa, only to find themselves trapped under the folds of red cloth from a decorated border slipping off of the stair rails, except the more recent troubles plaguing the survivors were not laughing matter.
It all started on November the 11^st.
Six months after the battle.
Anyone who hadn't been able to take their exams at the end of the last term (and that had been everyone) had gone back to school in August for that purpose. There had been two months of intensive study for the children up to sixth year and then tests were given.
After this, all students were moved up to the next years classes.
Seventh years had come back, as well, but they were given five months to complete their studies and pass their NEWTs. Failure on any of these levels opened further opportunity to join the new seventh year class and try again in the spring.
After three months, the group was restless and excited and no one could have predicted what would happen next.
Sometime during the night, dozens of pure-blood males, between the ages of sixteen and thirty, had disappeared.
Molly was apoplectic with anguish when all six of her boys could not be found.
An immediate investigation was launched, but the next night – older pures went missing, too. This all but decimated the aurors and since it was pure-bloods being targeted, that eliminated their main suspects. It was hardly the work of death eaters as they were being taken, too.
Men had gone missing all over the Ministry and from the cells of Azkaban. Even the magic traces, placed on the wands of those who were deemed safe enough to sentence with house arrest, had failed. Worst of all, Kingsley Shackelbolt had been among the older wizards to disappear.
Harry had just found this out, while talking to the headmistress and Professor Snape.
Upon entering the portrait hole, Harry was surrounded by the remaining Gryffindor upper grades. All were concerned, all talking at once and all expecting him to have the answers.
“Hang on!” he shouted, holding up his hands and waiting for them to calm down. He looked from face-to-face, seeing his friends all overlayed with the images of them . . post-war . . with the dirt of battle still covering their skin, the same frightened looks they had worn while waiting for him to give them the news.
Then, he had been excited to tell them.
Then, the news was that a crazed wizard would no longer haunt their lives. Voldemort was dead.
Now. . . .
“It's the same as before,” he said. “No sign of forced entry. No clues how they were taken. No clues who is at fault. All pure-bloods.”
Ginny's eyes caught his. The tracks of tears still vivid on her cheeks. He shook his head and she turned and broke down in Hermione's arms.
Harry felt like rubbish.
He had no good news for her. He couldn't find her brothers, or help hunt for them, and he couldn't console her. He was empty, now.
After the battle, Harry had met with a special healer. She was a half-veela woman from France, who specialized in emotional trauma and Harry was one of the four patients she had hand-picked from among the survivors.
His treatment had helped him to overcome much of his past, but along with his healing he had discovered things that altered how he dealt with the people around him.
First, he had to accept that he was an abused and neglected child.
Madam Le Mange was trained in magic, as well as psychology, so on her recommendation charges were made and an investigation launched into the Dursleys and their treatment of Harry. This was part of his healing, as well. He could not make excuses or accept the blame for how they had chosen to use the authority they had been given over him.
Second, prophecy or not, no one should have placed the burden of killing Voldemort onto Harry's shoulders. He was a child, and as such, was not able to process the demands of such a task. This had given him a warped sense of responsibility that Madam called a distorted hero complex.
She blamed Dumbledore and would not hear Harry's defense of the man.
Third, a relationship with his best friend's little sister, while in itself was not a problem, was far from healthy when that girl had been obsessing over him since they had met, if not before. He was young, so it hadn't occurred to him how twisted that sounded.
After thinking it through, he had suggested to Ginny that they date others for a while.
The fourth thing he had realized was that he too had labored under an obsession. He was presently working out how to deal with that when things started to go wrong. The current crisis was making it impossible for him to continue healing.
“Harry?” he turned to see Lavender Brown, clutching a book to her chest as she stood near the fireplace. Harry smiled his most optimistic smile at her.
“Hey, Lav. Are you doing okay?” he said.
Lavender tried to suppress the tremor that went through her and he was sorry for causing it. He knew it wasn't something he could avoid, but still felt bad when he was the instigator of the problem. Lavender had barely survived the battle - a victim of Greyback's rampage. She had succumbed to his larger size and found her self trapped under the werewolf. Only luck had saved her from his intended rape. Her hand had gotten a hold of her wand and cast incendio before he could enter her body. That luck was doubled by the fact that it wasn't a full moon so he couldn't inflict his curse on her either. A scar was all that was left of her physical damage and it was hidden by her clothes.
“I wonder if my father was one of the missing wizards. He's pure, though my mum was a half.”
“Is his name Leopold?” Harry asked and the girl nodded slowly, before sinking into herself and to the floor. Harry barely managed to catch her, guiding her to the couch and helping her onto it. He wrapped a throw around her and sat there, a weeping girl in his arms, as Hermione returned from the dorms.
Lavender hadn't seen her, but Harry's grimace told her what had likely occurred. “C'mon, Lav. Ginny's in my bed, already. Let's get some biscuits and have a group cry.” she offered, plucking the girl from her friend and guiding her up the stairs.
Harry stared at the fire, surprised when he noticed it had gotten quiet and he was alone. He slouched down on the sofa, not wanting to make the trek to the dorm, where Seamus and Dean slept near the empty beds of his best friend and Neville.
Feet pounding down the stairs alerted Harry from where he had curled up to sleep. First years, probably. The younger children had no understanding of the dangers, their happy voiced talking only about breakfast and their first classes of the day.
By the time they had come down, trailing cloaks and book bags, Harry was standing, a convincing smile plastered on his face.
Headmistress McGonagall was absolute in one fact. The younger children were not to know what had happened. For once in her time as an instructor in this school, small children were going to study their lessons without worrying about something the adults should be taking care of.
Harry felt a surge of love for the woman. “What classes for today?” he asked as the littlest students gathered near the portrait hole.
Frowns proceeded their answer, so Harry had a clue already. “Double potions and history of magic,” a blond boy said. “Then transfiguration after lunch.”
“On the bright side, double potions today, means not again until Thursday, right?” Harry offered.
“He's right!” a red-haired girl squealed.
“And tomorrow we have double defense,” said a boy with hair so short you could hardly tell its color. “That's good news, too!”
With that, the children scampered off to breakfast, leaving a smiling Harry behind.
“What's got them so joyous?” Dean said from the stairs. Seamus stumbled behind him.
“Silver linings,” Harry said.
“Ave the girls been down already?” Seamus changed the subject. Clearly he could see no reason for joy this morning.
“No sign. Probably sleeping in. Let's go get some food and see if the prophet has any real news.”
The three Gryffindors made their way to the Great Hall, avoiding the chaotic underclassmen who rushed to-and-fro. When they reached the double doors, Harry knew at a glance that something else had happened, and it wasn't good. He took the direct route and went straight to the staff table.
After the battle, the Ministry had seen fit to correct a few past wrongdoings. One such was the breaking of Hagrid's wand and taking away his magic. Once returned to him, he now qualified to take over the position of Deputy Headmaster. Malfoy had turned green when he heard and Harry had never been prouder.
“Hagrid, what's happened?” he whispered leaning across the table.
Hagrid turned to the headmistress who frowned and looked over the gathered students. Harry knew what was upsetting her. The room was sparsely filled, what with all the missing students, and now teachers, as well. But Harry didn't know how to reassure her.
“And where are the rest of your classmates, Mr. Potter?” she said with a nod toward the other end of the room.
Harry looked around and realized the older students were even more thinly scattered among the young this morning. Either the rest of the houses were similarly in mourning over recent events or . . .
“No! Hermione? Ginny?” he shouted and the room, half-full of students, looked his way.
McGonagall's hiss stopped him fast and he turned back to see her - eyes hard and mouth pressed into a thin line. “It appears that the culprit is not so picky about females,” she said, rising quickly and making her way to the end of the table. She took Harry's arm and escorted him to a side door. From there, they managed the trip to her office with little difficulty. “Be seated, Mr. Potter. Tell me all of the events from after our last meeting until this morning.” She snapped her fingers and one of the school elves appeared and bowed deeply. “Mr. Potter will need his breakfast brought here.”
Though his appetite was diminished, Harry managed to eat a reasonable amount as he told his day. When he had finished, both speaking and eating, he waited silently for the woman to speak.
“We have three witnesses for this event. There were two Hufflepuff girls, who were awake after curfew and saw their classmates disappear, and a younger Ravenclaw child, who had planned some undefined prank, and was in the room when Miss Lovegood was taken. Both disappearances took place at ten o'clock.”
“While I was sleeping on the couch.”
“And you saw nothing? Heard nothing?”
“No, Headmistress. Nothing.”
“Can you think of anything significant for the investigators?”
“No, but I'm not a pure-blood, so how . . .”
“Something one of your classmates might have said to you that is relevant to this information?”
“Nothing, Headmistress.”
McGonagall sighed and waved a hand. “Go to class, but if anything comes to mind, do not hesitate to speak to a member of staff.”
He met up with Dean and Seamus outside of defense and the three boys went in. Remus stood at the front of the room and watched them come. “Any seat you'd like,” he said with a wry smirk and Harry looked around.
They shared this class with Hufflepuff and only Justin, Wayne, and two girls that were so shy Harry had trouble remembering their names, were there. He did know that all four were muggleborns. Among the Gryffindors, there were only the three boys.
“Professor?” Dean said and Remus looked his way. “What are they doing about this?”
The man turned quickly and waved his wand with a snap. The doors slammed shut and the students jumped. “Aurors and unspeakables are investigating the presence of strange magic at the sites where people have disappeared. Particularly, Azkaban prison, the Ministry of Magic and Auror Shackelbolt's home. I understand they have already done checks in the affected dorms, as well.”
“They've been in our rooms?” Justin shouted.
“Calm down, Mr. Finch-Fletchley. No one disturbed your things.” Remus stopped that tirade before it could gather steam. “The aurors are determining the source of the magic so that they can narrow down their search.” Now the man slid easily into his teaching mask, even propping up on a desk while he spoke. “Magic signatures, as you know, are as unique to a person as their fingerprints . .”
The lecture continued for the remainder of the class and they left none-the-wiser as to what was happening or who was doing it. They also didn't know who was next.

Harry climbed the stairs to the dorm, unsure how he would get to sleep tonight. He was due for his bi-weekly visit with Madam La Mange at lunch tomorrow, but until then his support base was stretched thin. No Ron, Hermione, Ginny or Luna to talk to meant that tonight he would be plagued by dreams, and not the kind that left you in a happy place.
He reached into the pocket of his trousers and pulled out the odd bronze coin that he carried there. It had helped in the past, so tonight maybe . . .
When the war ended, many of the shops in Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade had been abandoned or destroyed. The people who survived came back to rebuild, but some did not return. It was a grim reminder that some did not survive.
Some of these shops were taken over by others, with similar wares to sell, or they were changed and now sold items that were different or unique, some things that the British wizards had never seen so great a need for before.
One such shop was across from the apothecary in Diagon Alley, just a few buildings away from the entrance to Nocturn Alley. The shops proprietress was a strange dark woman with a deep Caribbean accent, who sold good luck charms and calming tokens. She used coins, with engraved animals like Chimaera, sphynxes and minotaurs that had enchantments to ward off evil demons, or so she said. She also dealt with love charms, health poultices and jars of the oddest potion ingredients Harry had ever seen.
He had only gone into the shop because Ron had been dared by his brothers, and wouldn't have bought anything, but one of the charms, a strip of strange leather that was supposed to bring good fortune to he who bought it, had a picture that reminded Harry of Sirius, and the coin, a token to ward of night demons who haunt dreams, with the heads of the Hydra on it face and a Greek temple on its tail, was a free gift to her best customers.
Harry had only to hold the coin while he slept, in one hand while he held his wand in the other, and the dreams would be held at bay. He had now used it on four occasions, so could attest to its worth. Just as he was climbing into bed, a strange sensation flooded him and he heard Dean cry out, then the world went black.
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Deck of Cards