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By Hephaestus Forged 5C

Younger Siblings

Draco had discovered that an idle little sister was a writing little sister. It seemed that Julie lacked any friends she wanted to visit anymore, and her homework wasn’t taking much time, so he and Victoria were getting letters from Julie every other day. Today was his day. He’d been warned by Victoria that her last letter had been rather gloomy on the subject of Fenton. He took his sister’s letter from what might as well be her personal owl, given how much she used the eagle owl she called “Liberty.”

Draco carefully broke the seal on the family arms, in lozenge with an ermine spot denoting that it was from the second daughter. It was extremely unusual that a girl her age would have her own wax stamp with appropriate arms, but Julie had quickly become a favored daughter. It only took his father’s sudden use of certain phrases from Julie’s favorite show on the telly to show that.

Opening it, a quick glance at the rather neat handwriting told Draco that this was a letter that Julie had put some thought into. He read it carefully, not skimming or skipping over anything. This was not a letter of complaint, or rejoicing, either of which he’d expected in the aftermath of Fenton, or as Julie called him in her letters, He-who-should-not-have’s sentencing. No, this was a letter written once the euphoria was over, when her thoughts and words had sunken in.

Draco was of the opinion that there was no punishment enough for the man who had despoiled his oldest sisters. Word that the muggle had received life in prison, and was going to be transferred to Azkaban had brought a feeling of satisfaction that he knew that was shared by Victoria.

Julie, however, didn’t find it satisfying. She wanted him suffering until death. Draco was sure that if someone actually could make her believe what the Dementors of Azkaban did, she might change her mind, but he didn’t think he could do that via a letter. Plus he had no real experience to lend validity with her on it. Judith would believe just about anything that Draco told her, a trust that as her big brother he was trying to live up to, but Julie wasn’t as trusting.

He really needed advice on this, and he didn’t want to put anything more on Victoria. In fact he suspected that Victoria wasn’t getting as open of letters as he was, because Julie didn’t want to put that stress on their pregnant older sister.

Draco hadn’t even noticed that Daphne Greengrass had taken a seat on the same small couch, being so engrossed in thought. “Another letter from your little sister?” Daphne asked.

“Yes.” Draco said, looking down at the letter again, before looking back at Daphne. “I’m not sure how to reply.”

“Well, I may have a little sister, Astoria will be in your sister’s year, but I think her are an entirely different level,” Daphne said. “My little sister’s last letter complained about having no one around.”

“Julie’s got that issue,” Draco replied with surprise. He was aware that his fellow first years in Slytherin knew some things about his changed family. Victoria was obvious, but Julie, he didn’t really know how much they knew about her. Of course there were some things that he didn’t intend to share. One of them was exactly what Fenton had done to Julie. It was nice, however, that at least one issue Julie had was one that other younger sisters had.

“They can’t live with us, they can’t live without us,” Daphne groused.

“I know,” Draco said. “I’ve lived in that wing alone since I was six. I guess it might be a bit different for Julie, as this is the first time she’s had her own room, let alone had a whole wing to herself. It was different when I was in the adjoining room and Victoria was across the hall, apparent.”

“Is she being smothered by your parents?” Daphne asked. “Astoria’s complaining about that. Apparently Mum won’t let her alone.”

“My parents have a little more distractions,” Draco replied. “Three more younger siblings, and I think my mother is trying for a second. Mother Erlene and Father apparently did a fertility rite before they took their NEWTs.”

“Fertility rite?” Daphne gasped. “Which one?”

“You think I really want to even think about my parents doing that?” Draco asked as he tried to get the image of his parents doing that out of his head. Just before his return to Hogwarts he’d come his father kissing his mother, pressing her up against the wall. He’d quickly retreated.

“Point,” Daphne said. “We’re all the result of immaculate conception, any other way is too troubling to think about.”

“Exactly,” Draco said. “Got any idea how I can reassure my oldest little sister that she hasn’t been abandoned?”

“Let me know when you figure that one out,” Daphne replied, her gaze going upwards. “She nearly made me late for going back to Hogwarts by locking me in my room and somehow putting a wardrobe in front of my bedroom door. I had to go out via the balcony.”

“Okay, I need to make sure that your sister doesn’t give my sister ideas before Easter,” Draco said.

“That should be easy unless your sister happens to be going to school in Houndslow,” Daphne said.

“She does,” Draco said.

“Is she in a class with a Winston-Henke?” Daphne asked.

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Summer Rituals 9A

Seamus: Incardinatization Again

Altar servers did not have to get permission to work in multiple dioceses unlike priests. As a boarding school student, he’d expected to work in multiple ones, having first been trained to work as one in his home parish of Saint Columcille’s in the Archdiocese of Armagh, and then having gone to Hogwarts which was in the Diocese of Aberdeen. Somewhat amusingly the Hufflepuff ghost had twice been an administrator of the Prefecture Apostolic of Scotland, as a ghost didn’t fear prosecution for conducting a papist Mass. He’d served at the altar of the Friary Parish in Crawley in the Diocese of Brentwood as well.

His latest diocese, metropolitan at that, he’d never expected to visit, much less end up arriving with his own Archbishop, Cahal Cardinal Daly, to it was Cardiff. He’d met Archbishop Ward, or as he’d been told to address him, Father John, shortly after their landing. It was a rarefied group that took the Vauxhall Astra Estate, only made rarer when another Cardinal with brilliant white hair joined them outside town. Somehow Seamus had ended up in the back seat with the Prefect of the Congregation for Doctrine of the Faith or as it used to be known, the Office of the Holy Inquisition. And it was an inquisition.

So far he’d been quizzed on the ten commandments, the seven sacraments, and now the five precepts. Somehow he’d stumbled through them. “Cahal, give my compliments to this boy’s pastor,” the Prefect said. “He is a fine example of a good Catholic.”

“I shall, Joseph,” his Archbishop replied. “Do we expect any other priests to join us at Saint Clementine’s?”

“Father Edward of the Friary Parish in the Diocese of Brentwood, who is bringing Mister Potter,” the Prefect said. “I’m not sure if Bishop McMahon will be with him. Father Clement of Saint Edward the Confessor’s Chapel at Hogwarts in the Diocese of Aberdeen will be there. I shall be greatly amused when he discovers that he’s finally in a church with three Bishops. I have a papal message for him. John, please try to stay on the road. We’re not running late.”

“Sorry, I almost missed that last turn,” the Archbishop of Newport said. “Welcome to Godric’s Hollow, brothers.”

Just a minute later the Astra came to stop in front of a parish church that looked a lot like Saint Columcille’s except for being a bit taller and being in the center of town. There was another car pulled up as well, with what looked like Hermione from the behind bent over into the car. Seamus recognized Father Edward from Crawley greeting another priest, probably the new pastor of the church. Harry stood over by what at first appeared to be a war memorial, but as Seamus stepped out of the car, changed into a statue of baby Harry being held by his mother in his father’s embrace.

He decided that greeting his classmate could wait. Instead he addressed the white haired Cardinal, “Your Eminence, how can I assist?”

The Prefect replied, “put on your alb, making sure nothing shows out from under it. Take off your shoes as soon as you get into the church. You’ll need to make as little as possible noise during the exorcism. Now, would that be Potter looking at the war memorial?”

“Yes, Eminence,” Seamus replied, as he reached in for the bag that contained his robes. They were long enough to cover his jeans, but he wasn’t quite sure if the collar was smaller than that of his t-shirt.

“Mister Potter, please come over here so I may explain the instances of the Exorcism of your scar,” the Prefect said. Harry turned around and took a few steps closer to the rear of the Astra. “I understand you were baptized in this parish, but have not taken further sacraments?”

“No sir,” Harry said. “I talked with Father Edward about it before my son’s baptism, and we agreed that there isn’t enough time in the summer, so I’m going to talk to the Hufflepuff ghost, I don’t know his name, about it.”

“Father Clement, also known as the Fat Friar, I believe,” the Prefect said. “After your exorcism, you may wish to attend his Consecration Mass, assuming he doesn’t escape again.”

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t,” Seamus said, noticing that the Fat Friar had just arrived.

“For this exorcism, Mister Potter, you will be first be washed in Holy Water, before being dressed in a white robe and placed before the altar, at which time we will begin the actual exorcism,” the Prefect said. “You may during the process experience greater possession by the partial spirit currently inside your scar. Fortunately with the protections that your mother has imbued in your body by her sacrifice, with the additional protections and process that you will be undergoing, such possessions should be relatively short and overcome with the exercise of your own will.

“Acolyte Seamus, please escort Mister Potter to the Baptismal Font and assist Father Edward in preparing him”

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Revelations Regarding Instructional Services A

Call this branch 1 of the series, immediately following “Institutional Missives Regarding Instructional Services” There will be another branch following for Petunia’s Instructional Services.

Neville Longbottom did not consider himself to be a great wizard, nor did he consider himself to be a great friend to Harry Potter. He was at most a poor player, playing an unimportant role upon the stage. He was a dorm mate to the Boy-Who-Lived-to-Hate-the-Hyphenated-Title, who he occasionally helped with Herblogy and helped him with Defense Against the Dark Arts. That’s all he was.

That was nothing compared to Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger who where definitely Harry Potter’s best friends. Best Friends who had entirely different reactions to the fact that Potter hadn’t been on the Hogwarts Express, and wasn’t waiting for them in the Great Hall at the Gryffindor table.

Hermione Granger’s much more untamable than Harry’s hair had reached a new level of frizziness as the girl looked up and down the table, trying to spot Harry. “He’s not here, Ron. You said he’d be here waiting for us, all smug that he’d got here before the Expess.”

Ron Weasley, on the other hand, just sat down across from Granger, as if he didn’t have a care in the world. “So, he’s not yet in the hall,” Ron said. “I trust Harry when he said he would see us at Hogwarts.”

That’s when Neville caught the movement off the corner of his eye. There was someone standing on the threshold of the door to the chamber where the Champions had gathered back in his fourth year. He couldn’t see the person’s head at first, only a set of gray tweed robes with scarlet lapels. A slight movement showed that they were wearing last year’s Gryffindor tie, with it’s broader stripes of gold. The candles shifted, seeming to respond to Neville’s desire to see whoever it was.

The new gold rimmed glasses did not aid in identifying him, but there was no mistaking the messy hair and scar of his most famous dorm mate. Neville looked back at Ron and Hermione. They hadn’t spotted Harry, yet. He wondered why Harry was at the head of the hall instead of finding a seat at the Gryffindor table.

Then his gaze moved across the head table with the professors in their eclectic robes waiting for all the students to arrive sit down. It looked like Professor McGonagall had gone for a deeper green this year, and there was no pink dressed toad, so Professor Umbridge wasn’t back for a second year, breaking the curse. Professor Snape wasn’t up their, in fact his usual seat was occupied by a man in rich silk orangish-brown robes and a bow tie, who seemed somewhat familiar to him. Neville racked his brain for a moment, before realizing that he’d often seen the man at various gatherings that his gran had made him attend. Horace Slughorn! That was the name, Professor Snape’s predecessor as Head of Slytherin and Potions’ Master. Neville wondered if that meant that Snape was gone.

Then it hit him, with all the different color robes at the head table, there was only one reason why Harry would be here and not be wearing the black robes of a student. He spotted Professor McGonagall gesturing towards Harry, and shifted his gaze back to him. Harry shook his head, then cocked it to the right a bit and slumped his shoulders, before taking a deep breath, straitening up again, and heading towards the head table. Neville watched as Harry walked around back, taking the same seat that Neville had once seen Professors Quirell, Lockhart, Lupin, Moody, and Umbridge take, between where Slughorn sat and Trelawney sat. That had to be awkward. This was the second time he’d seen the Divination Professor attend.

Neville looked back at the table, and noticed that Hermione and Ron were still looking at the trickle of students still arriving. That trickle ended, and Professor McGonagall tapped her glass which rang out throughout the hall. Neville saw Ron and Hermione turn towards the head table, and watched their expressions change as they spotted Harry there. Ron took in a deep breath and moved back slightly. Hermione’s eyes seemed to open wider.

Neither said anything, as Dumbledore had already stood and was beginning to speak. “In a moment, the First Years will be entering to begin the Sorting Ceremony. I ask that during the ceremony, you maintain a respectful silence during the Sorting Hat’s deliberations. You may cheer or clap upon the announcement of a student’s sorting, but there should be no booing or degrading a particular student’s sorting. Deputy Headmistress McGonagall, retrieve the First Years.”

Professor McGonagall stood, and walked out the Great Hall, down the outside on the Gryffindor side. As soon as she crossed the threshold of the hall, the doors started to swing shut. It was only when the crack of the doors closure was finished echoing in the hall that anyone started to say anything.

“Harry is a Professor,” Hermione said. “He didn’t tell us that?”

“To be honest, Hermione, we didn’t exactly write him much this summer, or at least I didn’t,” Ron said, shrugging his shoulders. “More than last year, but still.”

“You’d think he would have written us about it,” Hermione said. “He did tell us about the dinner and winning the OWL and NEWT bonuses because he taught us Defense better than Professor Umbridge.”

“My letter was three pages of that note book paper that you and Harry sometimes use,” Ron noted. “Did he tell you that he’d taught enough that Hogwarts and the Wizarding Examniation Authority considered him a Professor? Isn’t that a laugh?”

“Not really, I mean Harry did really teach us Defense last year.” Hermione said, her expression changing to one of contemplation. “That toad certain didn’t teach us anything.”

“Tell us what you really thought of Umbridge, Hermione,” Ron shot back.

Hermione briefly put her hand over her mouth as if she was taking an extra measure not to respond to Ron’s request. “Really, Ron.” She looked back up at the head table, and Neville could tell from long experience that she’d just put together some facts. “I think Hogwarts made Harry the new Professor of Defense against the Dark Arts.”

“Now that is just plain mad. Not even Dumbledore is mad enough to put a sixth year as a Professor of a required course,” Ron replied, shaking his head. “He’s probably just an assistant, continuing whatever he said he was listed as last year, assisting maybe that guy sitting next to him.”

“That’s Horace Slughorn,” Neville said, finding the courage to interrupt the two. “He taught Potions from back in the forties to when Snape took over. I don’t think he’s there to take over Defense.”

“Professor Snape,” Hermione automatically corrected. “And Harry was Adjutant Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts last year, at least that’s what he wrote was on his invitation for the dinner. According to Hogwarts, a History, an Adjutant Professor automatically becomes the Professor of a subject when the prior Professor resigns, unless the Headmaster appoints another during the first two weeks.”

“Looks like we’re going to have to get used to calling Harry, Professor, then,” Ron said. “Going to be weird that.” Ron shrugged. “No weirder than anything else at Hogwarts that has happened to Harry, though.”

Neville reflected on what he’d known to have happened to Harry since they’d come to Hogwarts; Seeker as a First year, the Mirror of Erised, the gauntlet that he’d nearly stopped them from running to save the Philosopher’s Stone, being a parselmouth, finding the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets in a girl’s bathroom, a prisoner escaping Azkaban to save him from the worm that had betrayed his parents, being an underage Triwizard Champion. No, this was par for the course for Harry Potter.

The door to the Great Hall opened, and Professor McGonagall entered, leading the First Years. The hall went silent as the Sorting Ceremony was about to begin.

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Very Big Dursley Family 4D

Lily’s first night in charge.

Dudley had warned Lily that her siblings would challenge her on her first night in charge. Harry had figured that it would be spread over several nights, and bet that Brad would be first. Lily had hoped that she wouldn’t have that at all, especially since her mum had informed the whole family that she didn’t want to hear any problems today. Mum’s pregnancy was not making her feel good at the moment, so she’d retired to the parent’s room with a glass of ginger water and a good book.

It appeared, however, that some of her siblings had not learnt the lesson of keeping everything calm and following orders when mum wasn’t feeling well. It hadn’t been hard to get Primrose and Noel to take their bath. She’d called them right at seven fifteen, just like usual, and sat on the toilet seat while the two undressed and took their bath, just like she’d done a couple times when Harry was sick. There was no playing in the bathtub. Baths were for getting cleaned. A brief inspection had occurred to make sure they’d washed correctly, before she let them put on their underpants and go down for their snack, which Violet was handling.

Iris, at six, was trusted a bit more, and no longer shared the bath with her brother Brad. If she shared at all now, it would be with She was actually waiting for the bathroom to be free. There was a bit of dirt on Iris’s cheek that hadn’t been there when Lily had gone up with Primrose and Noel. There was also a streak of dirt down one side of her outfit. “They’re done?” Iris stated. “Good. You might want to see to Badley.”

Lily knew that the removal of the R in Bradley’s name was not a good sign. “What did he do?”

“Dad has him cleaning up what he tracked in,” Iris said. “He’s blaming Dennis. Something about Gnasher, a leash, and a squirt gun filled with cranberry juice, I think. Whatever it is, Violet is not looking forward to cleaning his shirt.”

“This, I got to see,” Lily said. “Bathroom is yours for the next fifteen minutes … maybe a bit longer if I end up having Bradley shower.” Iris nodded, as Lily passed her.

The moment she got down stairs, she found Bradley barefoot, only wearing his boxers, which appeared to have been dyed red and were soaked to his body. His hair was covered with a white powderBy the door was his jeans, which appeared to be ripped on one leg and had mud on them. He had a mop that which he was using to clean up a trail of mud.”Don’t ask, I’m not going to repeat it,” Bradley said. “Just .. you know … I don’t know what, but Dennis is going to regret what he did.”

“I see … and are there any others that were involved, like perhaps Godwin and Crispin?” Lily asked. Bradley tried not to show any reaction, but he was her little brother. “Brad, would you be talking to Harry?” Bradley looked up briefly with an expression of surprise. “Okay, Dudley was right. They thought the lid was off with Piers, Dudley, and Harry gone. That dog is worse than our aunt’s ever were, and if I’m not mistaken you got hit by the mudballs too. Violet!”

“Yes Lily?” Violet said, leaning out of the kitchen.

“Make sure Brad takes a shower at least, and is really clean for a change,” Lily said. “I’m going to make sure Colin is ready for his little brother … but first, I think I need to talk to Porta. Someone forgot about their Kipling.”

“Kipling?” Bradley said, as Porta went to the phone and dialed Number Nine. “What is Kipling?”

“Porta?” Lily said, the moment she heard an answer. “Please remind Godwin about his Kipling, as we discussed last Wednesday. Oh, has he come in?”

She could hear Porta over the phone state. “You just got a call from the Dursley’s, little Win.” She knew that expression would happen when Dudley made similar calls. She’d been at the Creevey’s when Dudley had called about Dennis before. Harry, Dudley, and Piers called it giving fair warning. It never was done older sibling to younger sibling, and Lily was a good girl, so she’d never gotten a call from Piers. She’d seen both sides though. Lily hadn’t expected to have to do this so soon.

She heard Godwin glup as Godwin, you and I are going to talk tomorrow on the way to school, but first, a single verse to haunt your dreams, because I’m not the Big Boys. My reign as part of the Triumvirate is going to be different. Why?

“When the Himalayan peasant meets the he-bear in his pride,
He shouts to scare the monster, who will often turn aside.
But the she-bear thus accosted rends the peasant tooth and nail.
For the female of the species is more deadly than the male.

“If you though because Piers left you and your friends would be getting away with things, think again. We’re prepared to prove Kipling’s poem. Have a wonderful night.”

Lily hung up the phone, having not let Godwin sign off “Now, Brad, I need to know exactly what Dennis the Menace and his pals did, and I need to know it now, before I go handle him via window. I can threaten Godwin without knowledge, but Dennis requires it.”

Brad gulped. “He thought I was the one that snitched on him with Mister Stone. So he sicced Gnasher on me. I ran but ended up having to go through the Watt’s front garden, which they’ve dug up but haven’t put the new plants in. Then I ran into Crispin and Godwin who dumped a bucket of this awful juice, soaking my clothes. That let Gnasher catch up with me, and he ripped my jeans. Dennis then pulled out his sling shot and shot me with a ball that burst into white powder when it hit my forehead.”

“Good. Now do you want a shower or bath tonight?” Lily asked, already knowing the answer. So she looked around the hall and determined that Brad had done a passable job cleaning up after himself.

“Shower,” Bradley replied.

“Okay, it looks like you’ve done here, so shower, and when you’re done, report to my room for inspection,” Lily ordered.

“Do I have to?” Bradley whined.

“What is your current streak of passed inspections with Harry?” Lily asked.

“Two,” Bradley said quietly, looking down at his feet.

“And how many did Harry say you had to pass in a row?” Lily continued, her hand going out to raise Bradley’s gaze so she could look him right in the eyes.

“Fifteen,” Bradley replied, before turning around and heading for the kitchen door to the garage.

Lily smiled as her little brother headed to the showers in the back of the garage. Then she headed up to the room she shared with Violet. As it was a rather warm night, but already cooling from the hot end of Summer day, the window was already open, letting a cool breeze in. She could see that Colin was already in his bedroom, carefully placing his latest pictures in the portfolio file.

Colin had the photo bug, having received a camera from his Uncle J.W. for his last birthday, and had the use of the dark room that Mister Gallegher had created for his son Todd back in the 60s. He had one of the three drawers under his bed in the room he shared with his brother Dennis filled with his portfolio. His window was also open, and it appeared that he was actually expecting contact. “Lily! Ready to shakedown Dennis the Menace?” Colin said.

“Yes,” Lily said, as she slid Dudley’s black bathrobe over her shoulders. “Is the tape ready for tonight?”

“Yes,” Colin replied, “Shall I get him?”

“Most certainly,” Lily said, picking up an envelope and the letter opener that she’d prepared. It didn’t take long for Colin to bring the other occupant of his bedroom to the window. She nodded to Colin, who pounded a mallet twice on the wooden window frame, actually causing Dennis to flinch at the sudden sound and the closeness of the impact.

“Here ye, here ye, the Court of the Youth of Privet Drive is now in session, Judge Lily April Dursley presiding in succession. The case of Dennis the Menace et.al. vs the Crown thirty-five now sits before the bench.” Colin announced.

“Dennis the Menace, you stand before this court to be arraigned on counts of bullying, destruction of attire, and conspiracy,” Lily said, casually slitting open the envelope, making sure that it would glint in the light of the setting sun. “How do you plea?”

“Not guilty!” Dennis replied. Lily knew that if Dudley were presiding their wouldn’t be such a plea. Same with Piers or Harry.

“You’ve entered a plea of not guilty to this court,” Lily replied. “This is your right, though it may show some lack of remorse, that may be accounted for later. This court, however is a court of fact, and you shall be allowed to present your facts and defend yourself. However, it is late, so before we adjourn I must remind you:

“When the Nag the basking cobra hears the careless foot of man,
He will sometime wiggle sideways and avoid it if he can.
But his mate makes no such motion where she camps beside the trial
For the female of the species is more deadly than the male.

“The defendant is remanded into the custody of his older brother, and this court is adjourned until thirty minutes after the dismissal of school tomorrow, at which time we shall reconvene in normal session in the Stone Playhouse. Court adjourned.”

Colin slammed the window shut, loudly, and his brother jumped back into his brother’s arms. Lily watched as Colin managed to hold his next youngest sibling, saying something in his ears. There wasn’t much difference between the nine-and-three-quarters-year-old and the eight-and-a-half year old. It looked like Dennis was surprised that his older brother was taking a hard line against him. Colin was sometimes a bit of a menace himself, but Colin was more of an annoyance as opposed to Dennis’s more bullying nature. Lily would take Colin over Dennis any day.

There was a knock on Lily’s door. “Enter,” she said. She turned around as the door opened revealing Bradley, not dried completely, and with a head of hair that hadn’t got wet.. “Brad, did you even duck you head under the water?”

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Very Big Dursley Family 4C

Severus Snape Prepares for the First Day of Class

Severus Snape was actually a morning person. He was sure that very few people who knew him as a teen would believe it. During his teenage years he hadn’t been one, but he’d reverted to one as soon as he had become a professor. It was why he generally did patrols Friday Night, it was the only way he’d be able to sleep in on Saturday, something he’d promised himself to always do once he was free of his father.

That didn’t mean that he didn’t enjoy a good cup of morning coffee with his point twenty fifth of a teaspoon of milk, stirred three and a quarter times. The aroma was perfect, and the extra stimulate even potent in the air. He’d made the cup himself, arriving at the Slytherin Common Room before the first student had woken up. He took a seat by the door and awaited the arrival of each student. It was a different method for him, but he wanted to delay his first encounter with Harry Potter.

He’d received a letter from Petunia shortly after the letters had gone out to the new first years, letting him know that Lily’s child was coming for his first year. She’d even included a picture of him with Petunia and her oldest daughter, who was a spitting image of Lily. He’d been greatly surprised at that. Even more so when he’d discovered that she was the namesake of her aunt.

It was that picture that had caused him to take a good look at his past. Seeing what was in effect an image of a younger James and Lily with Petunia put him in a much more reflective mood. Oh, he still didn’t like James Potter, but he could admit that he’d given as good as he’d got. With Harry Potter having been sorted in Hufflepuff, which was never a threat to his house, he wasn’t seeing a reincarnation of James. James would have never been sorted into Hufflepuff. He was too much of a pureblood charging knight in shining armor, a shallow person. Hufflepuffs, he knew, had more depth to them.

Severus knew he’d probably have a few knee jerk reactions when he encountered the latest Potter, but it wouldn’t be the same as it would have been if he’d been one of Minerva’s lions. Pomona kept a much more even kneel with her badgers, though you were to put one of them past their limits, well only a fool angered a badger. Unfortunately, he had way too many fools in his house lately.

He’d been surprised when Draco had been sorted into Hufflepuff instead of Slytherin. It would not be easy on his godson not to be in Slytherin, but he would have to let Draco know that his door was still open. He’d probably need it once Lucius discovered his son’s sorting. Malfoys had been sorted into Slytherin since the first sorting with the Sorting Hat. As a school governor, Lucius was probably going to make it a personal visit, and he was glad that he wasn’t an involved head of house with that one.

As he got through the first tenth of students, Severus reflected that he wasn’t exactly being bold at the moment. He’d heard what happened to the Dark Lord in the Leaky Cauldron, and seen Lucius’s burnt arm, still in the process of healing a month later, when they’d encountered Harry Potter and the Dursley’s. He didn’t want to be the latest Death Eater to end up in with a burning arm.

A couple of fourth-years, Faustus McGee and his ever present best friend Fortuna Falstaff (don’t ever say they were any more or less) entered, and rather than just stopping long enough to get there schedules, McGee spoke up. “Professor, I just heard that they found Augustus Rookwood in a muggle hospital. It seems he got struck by lightning on a rather clear summer day.”

“I see, and what do they say that caused the suppose to be on work release Unspeakable to be smote from above?” Severus asked.

“If my sources are correct, he was last seen attempting to follow a certain family,” Falstaff said. “You know the one, with the recent surprise sorting into Hufflepuff.”

Severus considered the unsolicited information a moment, and decided that it might be advisable to spread a bit more information around. “To those that know Mister Potter, it is no surprise. I grew up with the aunt who raised him, a muggle true, but quite a hard worker believed in family unity. A recent letter that I received has acquainted me to the current circumstances of the family. Petunia has described her nephew as part of the glue that holds her family of eight children counting Mister Potter together. That suggested to me that as long as he did not fall into the regrettable Potter Family tradition of Gryffindor, Hufflepuff was most likely.

“However, a word to the wise, Potter in Hufflepuff is not an easy mark. He will not be easily shaped onto any path he does not consider, and his family will remain paramount in his thinking.”

“And at Hogwarts, your house is your family,” McGee stated. “We’ll try keep the idiots in our year out of the way.”

“You do that, and both of you will be prefects next year,” Severus said. It was an easy statement. The current fourth year in his house was filled with more than its fair share of dunderheads. The only plus he’d found thus far was that their potions disasters usually ended up in sticky messes for detention uses than explosions.

It did not take long for the rest of his Slytherins to file through on the way to breakfast and the Great Hall. No Slytherin was dunderheaded enough to miss breakfast, and if there were someone that did miss it, there would be a good reason, like Miss Belladona’s narcolepsy. Fortunately she’d completed her NEWTs last year, so he wouldn’t be going into the female dorms to find out if she’d fallen asleep again.

Priding himself for finding a way to avoid the encounter with Potter for a while longer, Severus looked down at his own schedule. First class, First Years Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. He went to take another sip of his coffee. He’d already finished it.

There was only one conclusion, the world hated Severus Snape, and he was going to burn this morning.

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By Hephaestus Forged: Ember C

This if the third scene of the fifth chapter of By Hephaestus Forged. Other scenes are not yet on this website. It is part of the Ritually Yours set of stories, which starts with that work. This is a sequel to Prometheus Unbound, which is a side story to that work.

Lucius made sure that he visited Hogwarts at least once a month as a member of its governing board. Most of the time he focused on the facilities, but this time, he was doing something he’d never done before. He was talking to students, and not just those in Slytherin. He wasn’t avoiding them either, like Augusta Longbottom did Gryffindor. He’d already talked to the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain, Oliver Wood, and a young second year Ravenclaw whose name was already escaping him.

Those two had given him a couple action items. The school brooms were apparently a travesty and there was a sever lack of study space in the library near each end of term. He’d also questioned Wood about the Slytherin Quidditch Team. While it was true that a rival would see everything wrong with their rival, sometimes you needed to have a good list to start with, which he was certainly not going to get from Marcus Flint, a sixth year that his eldest daughter seemed to think was the biggest block to her own ambitions. Victoria was sure that she should have been made a starting chaser during her second year instead of Adrian Pucey. Of course she’d been too pregnant to try again this past autumn.

“Journeyman Ollivander,” Lucius said as the fourth-year Slytherin came into the small loungue he was using for interviews. “Please have a seat.” He pointed to the green leather chair that at a right angle to his own. “And do not hesitate to have some hot chocolate and lemon biscuits. If my sources are correct, they are your favorite.”

Julian Ollivander picked up a couple lemon biscuits and a steaming mug of hot chocolate. “Thank you Lord Malfoy,” he replied respectfully.

“How is Victoria’s studying going?” Lucius asked.

“Quite well, sir. She’s ahead in most of her classes, and it doesn’t look like the lack of practicals for potions is effecting her grade that much.” Julian blew across the top of his hot chocolate causing a wisp of steam to float in front of him.

“I’ve been given to understand that the Slytherin Quidditch Team is not the best that it could be this year. In fact my sources say that the issues may have started last year when Marcus Flint took over as Captain. How would you consider the team?”

“Frankly, Flint is the worst captain that Slytherin, and the worst Quidditch Captain overall. He may have slaughtered Gryffindor in his opening game as Captain last year, but he didn’t deserve it. By the end of last season he’d driven Selena Willaert to quit a game early, and you know where she is now.”

Lucius did know where Willaert was. That young lady had managed to set the rookie record for Quaffles scored in just two thirds of the season. She’d been signed by the Harpies right out of Hogwarts. “I see. Am I correct that Miss Willaert was the last female on the Quidditch team?”

“Yes, and she shouldn’t have been. Victoria was better that Pucey, and Higgs … well he hasn’t got a snitch yet. I could put a team of first years together, if they weren’t too busy playing football, and beat the current starters. And then there is the penalties … take one guess what percentage of the penalities were called on Slytherin in the first four games of the season.”

“Thirty-five,” Lucius guessed, knowing that the team was somewhat reliant on Bletchley’s stone wall keeping against penalties.

“Try eighty-one,” Julian said, before taking a deep sip of his chocolate. “Ravenclaw hasn’t had a single call against it this year. Victoria called Saturday’s game the worst example of bad sportsmanship since your father played.”

“That is a serious allegation,” Lucius said. His father had held the record for the most penalties called in a single game. “One that I do not disagree with. I understand that you took Victoria to the aforementioned game.”

“I did sir,” Julian said, paling a bit.

“Do not tense up, Julian,” Lucius said, using the boy’s name for the first time rather than his title and last name. “I find your actions and intentions towards my daughter to be most favorable. In fact I expect that you’ll find that my approval of your relationship knows few bounds.”

“Sir?” Julian said, pluzzled.

“You are aware of who is responsible for Victoria’s current delicate condition?” Lucius asked.

“Victoria has confided in me, but I doubt she would accept her condition as delicate,” Julian replied. “She’s not exactly know for accepting any of the limitations that Madam Pomfrey imposes on her.”

“I’ve heard,” Lucius replied firmly. “I’m also given to understand that you are one of the few who have been able to restrain her from doing things that she is forbidden to. Usually by the application of romantic gestures, and ocassionaly other plans that she has been unable to escape.”

“Well, she’s, well, rather delectable.”

“And judging from your continued romancing through her current condition, I would judge that you are rather serious in your relationship with my daughter.” Lucius said, looking slightly down as he focused on Julian, catching the fourth-year’s eyes in his own.

Julian’s eyes met his, and Lucius could almost feel the determination radiate off the young man. “I intend to ask her to marry me some day,” Julian suddenly blurted out.

Lucius kept his gaze firmly on the young man, allowing a moment’s silence to test him. Julian did not break eye contact. This young journeyman wandmaker was serious. He didn’t really want to loose his daughter so soon after he got to finally meet him, but Lucius knew his daughter was already quite grown up, with a little over a month before his first grandchild was to be delivered by her.

The silence continued as he figured his best response. Given the serious ritual that he was going to ask of the boy, it was very good that he was so serious with Victoria. “You may ask her, when the time is right. However, before you do, I shall like to know if you would be willing to preform the Icium Patria Sanguine Ritual with Victoria so that her baby may be born with your blood rather than that of a prisoner of Azkaban?”

There was a brief silence, just long enough that Lucius could tell that Julian was taking it seriously. “If she wants me like I hope, I will,” Julian replied firmly.

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New Website, New Features

I’ve decided to refresh the personal part of my website by providing more up to date content and new works. In fact you’ll soon see new works in their earliest draft form, with all their errors and the like, as a bit of a test. Each work will be tagged with the series, and note the last update date of the file I have. You’ll also see some really old stuff that I’m pulling from my old works in progress file in hopes of generating some new ideas.

Drafts will stay as active posts until they’re posted, or revised, so don’t be surprised if a draft you read disappears. References to previous scenes will be attempted, but I won’t say that I’ll always link back.

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Story Image

In Summer Rituals, I have some referenced covers made by Dean Thomas. So I could describe them consistently, I created them using Daz Studio. You’ll probably see a lot of these story images in the future