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A Strange Old World Ch.10
🕑 Added 2022-01-31 16:41:00 +0000 UTCDisclaimer: I don't own anything.
Chapter 10– Time skips away
AN: Discord version available!
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Something cool and intangible pressed up against Harry's cheeks, summoning him from the fretful embrace of sleep.
He blinked the remaining drowsiness away as his mind gained it's faculties, rubbing his eyes to blearily peek above him.
There, it's neck extending a full meter tall, wrapped up in a small circle by itself, sat a snake Patronus glowing in ethereal blue hue.
Startled, Harry tried backing away as his limited Wandless magic summoned his wand in his wand...only to find a weight pressing down on his lap.
"Wha–?" He exclaimed out, taking in the naked figure of a girl sleeping peacefully on his equally naked lap.
His limp shaft had barely been an inch away from the girl's mouth, and his sudden movement made it rub against her warm lips, eliciting a gasp.
His eyes involuntarily scanned her figure, drinking in her body in all it's naked glory. Her soft breasts pressed up against his leg, small but perky and firm. Her back curved down lusciously to give rise to a firm and shapely arse that stuck out like a bubble, while her wide hips were tucked to her stomach as she slept like a baby.
The sight was erotic enough to quickly renew his sexual appetite again, and his limp member twitched in excitement.
His eyes finally fell to her face, taking in the cute delicate look that did not seem British...and he realised he didn't even know her name.
All of a sudden, the memories of last few hours entered him like a bludgeon and he let out a low groan as his mind processed through it, occlumency helping to suppress the effects of alcohol.
He'd just left Scrimgeour after giving a non-committal answer and had decided to drown out the rest of the night with some good old Firewhiskey.
The crowd had just been too large for him to give a crap anymore, with people he'd probably never meet again coming to wish him.
The Potters, and those truly close to them, were supposed to retire for a private dinner at midnight as the evening slowly came to an end...
He remembered meeting this french beauty, a couple years older than the current him. She wasn't trying to get in his pants too hard but it hadn't mattered. Even with it's enhancements, his young and inexperienced body was just not capable of handling alcohol like he'd used to, especially not without Occlumency.
So naturally, Harry had given in. They'd just started with a dance, rubbing against each other somewhat sensually... until Harry had decided upon the time's ripening, and taken the girl to one of the many unused rooms that Lily had shown him earlier (though only after a thorough mind scan of her past and personality).
And thus led to an hour or two of pure lust and passion, ending in his current predicament.
A sudden movement in his peripheral reminded him of the other occupant of the room. The snake Patronus seemed patient enough, standing guard like a loyal servant. And yet, for some reason Harry couldn't shake the feeling that its glowing blue eyes stared at him in annoyance and disappointment.
"What?" He asked, annoyed.
The snake slowly leaned forward, it's jaws unhinging to open wide as it flared it's fangs.
Harry had just raised his wand up in response, without actually knowing what good it would do against a Patronus, when a very familiar voice suddenly announced his name.
"Harry," Bella's voice came from the snake. "If you're done with your fun, I want you to come downstairs now. Eleven thirty sharp, our little personal party will start. The Tonks and Weasleys are already here. Come fast."
With one last glare of judgement, the Patronus finally dissipated.
Absently he cast the tempus to see the time, only to find himself being over 10 minutes late already.
"Oh fuck off, I'm too tired for this shit." Harry sighed irritatedly, rubbing off the last bit of sleep while trying to push the naked girl away from him.
Unfortunately the force made the girl shift her weight completely, now fully coming to kiss his rapidly hardening wand with her full pouty lips, and his attention was once again taken by something else.
While he didn't like his dick getting smeared with pink lipstick, he could ignore it for more important matters.
Mainly, nailing the plump behind that was teasing his eyesight something fierce.
The night was still young, and he was sure his family could wait another 10 minutes...
Cause there was no way he was stopping such a sacred act now.
Indeed, it was his duty as a man to bring the girl beside him to satisfying conclusion...
As many times as he possibly can.
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Fleur
Freedom. What exactly was freedom? What use describes the best ability of freedom?
Was it the ability to travel wherever you wish to? To never be bound by rules and regulations that limits your horizon?
Or was it the ability to speak? To say whatever you want, to whoever you want, without having to look over your shoulder every time you do so.
But perhaps it was the sheer freedom to spend your time as you wish to, not having to adhere to some strict structure that forces you to do things you don't want to.
Fleur was having a fabulous time trying to decide.
Her newfound freedom let her do things that she'd only ever dared imagine, let her experience the true meaning of life that has been absent till now.
Of course, the dark shadow of Henri Delacour still sometimes loomed over her like her worst nightmare, but after enjoying the taste of freedom for over two week without any repercussions for her attack, she felt more or less secure in her position.
She was free. Her family was free. Free and safe. And unless life was about to give them another taste of its cruelty, they will be staying this way forever. Henri Delacour was out of their life, and if he had even the slightest bit of intelligence, he will stay out forever.
Of course, just because her nightmare was over did not mean her life was completely worry free right now. She still had to worry about their future life, of improving their current living conditions.
She did not want her mother and Gabby to live in this small hotel suite forever, having to adjust for space and comfort. She did not want her mother to worry about paying for her and Gabrielle's schooling.
But most importantly, she did not want her mother and Gabby to live so close to that monster any longer. Even though he was out of their life, he wasn't out of their minds.
'Should've just killed the bastard.' She thought bitterly. 'Atleast mother would've been free.'
But she knew that was foolishness. Had she killed Henri, she would've been rotting in some French prison right now, leaving her loved ones alone.
But even all these problems couldn't stop her from enjoying her life. Her loved ones were beside her, they wouldn't be having any money problems for now atleast, and her school life will soon be over so she could get a proper job…..but something even more novel for her….
She had a friend now. And the letter in her hands only reiterated that fact.
Dear, Fleur
How are you? Hopefully well. Your P.S sounded ominous, so let me know if you need any help. We may have just met once, but I will help in any way I can. Can't explain why, just trust me and let loose.
Anyway, I'm glad you decided to send that letter, I was on the verge of dying from exhaustion right now. Writing this reply gave me a pleasant break. Loved your gift btw. Did you make it? I'll still appreciate it if you didn't of course, just let me know who did though. It was incredible.
Also, I'd be more than willing to keep this going. Writing this letter has been an unexpectedly fun and challenging task. I'd originally intended to send this right away, but somehow it's more difficult to compose a letter than preparing for a ritual.
And I'd be quite happy to meet up in the world cup. Let me know if you have something planned. If not, we'll think of something ;)
Farewell for now,
With love, Harry.
Fleur's eyes glided through the letter once more, feeling an unnatural heat within her chest. It was the 56th time that she was re-reading this letter, and it never failed to provide her with comfort, lighting a smile on her face everytime.
Though like everytime, it also brought with it a sense of nervous anticipation. It has been two days now since she sent away her reply, and the wait for his letter was almost making her doubt his sincerity.
Thoughts like 'What if he's just being polite' and 'He's probably regretting being so welcoming' was constantly making her jittery.
But the way he wrote the letter…it was simply too natural and honest to be a mask. And his simple offer of help seemed like the biggest lifeline to her, something reliable and stable enough to wash away most of her worries for the future.
"Fleur? Honey, where did you keep the-?" Her mother called, entering their shared dining room, only to stop on the spot when she saw the letter in her hand.
Fleur winced as her mother gave an annoyed sigh, pursing her lips thinly. "You're still reading his letter?"
Fleur tsked, annoyance welling up in her as she prepared to defend her one and only friend. "We're nothing more than friends, Ma. Truly, you need to get that out of your mind. We barely even talk."
She turned back to the letter, not wanting to continue the argument. Her mother slowly came to stand beside her, quiet and cautious, but Fleur ignored her presence.
Or atleast, tried to.
"Fleur." The pain and worry in her mother's voice was not something she could ignore, especially not the comforting hands that came to rest over her shoulders. "I only want what's best for you, Honey."
Fleur sighed, clutching her mother's comforting hands in acceptance. "I know that, Ma. I just don't want to think badly of him because of that man."
"But what if he is like that man?"
The question was a valid one, with enough worry in it that Fleur would atleast try to understand her mother usually.
But not this time.
"Harry is nothing like that bastard!" She snapped angrily.
Just the sheer thought caused her rage to boil over like a barely restrained avalanche.
Her mother didn't relent this time though, leaning down to look her in the eye. "And how do you know that, Fleur?"
"How do I know that!? I know that because-! Because…." Fleur stopping yelling, her anger clamping down in a confused frown as her mind scrambled for an answer. "…Because I…He's honest...and…."
She struggled to explain her feelings. Why exactly did she think of him so fondly? Why did his words mean so much to her? Why did she consider him a true friend when she knew absolutely nothing about him, even knowing how young he was?
….She just did.
"I can't explain it." She finally answered, reluctant and confused. "I just do."
Her mother sighed again, dragging a chair to sit beside her. But Fleur's eyes were stuck to her lap, upset and ever so slightly ashamed.
"When I was young, around your age actually, I was working as a scribe for the French ministry. It wasn't a very rewarding job, having to work 13 hours with barely a break, all for 30 galleons a month. But it was all I could get then, being who I was. But one day, after a particularly tiresome shift, I met a young man."
'Uh oh.' Fleur could see where it was going, and didn't like it one bit.
"He was handsome and powerful, hardworking and successful, with everything topped only by his stellar reputation. All a young Beauxbatons graduate found quite attractive."
Her mother stopped for just a second, her eyes lost in the dim bulb above. "I found him sobbing on the stairs that day. I hadn't known why of course, but I comforted him all the same. One thing led to another, and in a month we were both in a happy relationship. A relationship I thought to be completely perfect, a match made by heaven itself."
She sighed, staring down despondently. "It wasn't of course, but I ignored that. I hadn't known it then but we were already bonded, not that it would've made a difference. See, his good reputation also had a darker side, one of a drunk power-hungry maniac, but I ignored that as well. For me, his drunk side was simply a way to cope with the cruel life, while his hunger for power was simply an ambition for success. It wasn't until it slapped me in the face, quite literally in fact, did I finally realized the truth, but it was too late by then. The bond had already strengthened."
Apolline turned to her then, eyes grim and regretful. "It's subtle really, the way our Veela bonds work. Subtle and dangerous. You never even know when you're acting under it's effects. And once it forms, Fleur, it cannot be undone…. until the death of your chosen."
Fleur breathed out, rubbing her face with shaky hands. The thought that Harry might not be the person she believed him to be, that he too might have a crueler, more darker side, was heartbreaking for her.
She closed her eyes to keep the tears at bay, desperately trying to see within her….if her feelings truly were her and her's alone or…
"Honey…" Her mother shook her shoulders. "Fleur, baby look at me."
"Why us, mother?" Fleur couldn't help but ask. "Why do these things always happen to us? Why can't we simply live our lives normally?"
Her mother's arms circled around her, rocking her slightly. "Shh now, don't speak like that. I don't want you to repeat my mistakes, but that does not mean you should assume the worst. Perhaps what you feel for the boy is simply natural for humans. Perhaps it truly isn't anything more than normal friendship, Fleur. And even if it is something more, worrying about it now will do nothing. Should the worst happen…if you truly are bonded to the boy, and if this….Harry Potter, does comes out to be like Henri….then believe me, you shall not suffer for it. I won't let you."
"Even if I have to bury the boy myself."
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Timeskip: 1-12th August, 1994
The month of August bought with it a renewed sense of urgency in Harry. In barely three weeks, the final of Quidditch world cup was about to start, and he had a feeling the day was going to bring much more excitement than he was anticipating.
Originally he'd been quite satisfied with the speed of his progress. The Body enhancing ritual had completely transformed his dueling ability, and coupled with his recent advances in magic he was sure he could even hold on against Voldemort without getting obliterated in the first few seconds.
Atleast, the Voldemort of his world.
The last month had showed him again and again that this world was quite different from his own. Not just a select few people, but even the whole history of this world was alien to him. Judging the future with his past knowledge would be the height of folly now, something that may just cost him this Magic-given opportunity at new life.
And thus, he was no longer satisfied with where he stood right now. He needed to become stronger, and he needed to do so quickly.
But Harry was nothing if not adaptable.
Using just a fraction of money available to him currently, he purchased a plot of land on Bella's name (legally). The land was then warded heavily by both of them, creating it into something similar to the French dueling stadium, where magic cannot escape outside a specific boundary. In this case, the whole land.
It was further plunged out of view for anyone not accepted in the ward, making it invisible to the unsuspecting (or suspecting, for that matter) eye.
Now, he had a fully functioning Dueling room where he could practice some of the more devastating spells available in his repertoire, which had grown considerably in the last few weeks.
And Harry put all his newfound motivation in further perfecting his dueling style to the very extreme, especially focusing on incorporating all four branches of Transfiguration in his style.
Apart from furthering his dueling prowess, the thing that constantly plagued his mind were the rituals.
The dick enlargement one was completely useless for him, a fact only strengthened by his moan-inducing performance that he personally delivered to that French beauty.
But the one after that was what had been on the forefront of his mind whenever he brainstormed ideas to grow more powerful: Magic sensitivity enhancement.
Considering how ridiculously his physique had improved through the ritual, he imagined the effects on his magical senses will be even more superb, what with them being already excellent for his age.
And once he got that extra boost? Once his magic sensing reached an acceptable level? He could finally start learning the advanced elemental magic.
Another reason he believed this world's Voldemort to be better than his previous one was actually due to the presence of elemental spells.
After giving a complete read to the few books that Lily provided him on the subject, he could confidently conclude that elemental magic had never been a thing in his original world. Sure, he had laid witness to some truly impressive feats of magic that he'd declare as elemental over the years, but these were all performed by Dumbledore and Voldemort.
One of the most memorable one was the firestorm that Dumbledore produced in that cave to burn away the army of inferi.
At that time, he'd simply written it off as Dumbledore doing Dumbledore stuff. The thought that he might ever learn that kind of magic had never seemed anything more attainable than a dream. It was only confirmed when even Hermione denied knowing the spell.
But here, on this world, that was simply common knowledge.
Well, not common exactly, considering Lily did say the books were incredibly rare….but the sheer presence of these books confirmed the one thing that he'd always feared…
Magic on this world was a lot more advanced than back in his own. And if he wanted to match the likes of Dumbledore and Voldemort, he must master it all.
Thus, his renewed thirst for those rituals.
His thoughts also briefly turned to Scrimgeour's offer, but Harry quickly dismissed them after a single talk with Bella.
The woman had been absolutely furious when she heard what exactly their dear old head of Aurors had in store for Harry. That fury had even extended towards the ministry, and according to the latest news that Harry had, Amelia bones was forced to hear quite an earful from her childhood friend.
Still, once he made up his mind over the rituals, all that was left to do was to prepare for them. Having some experience already, Harry wasn't worried about it over much.
His recent foray into Knockturn Alley has led to some sweet rewards, and one of the purchases he made was for a freshly hunted Centaur blood. Luckily for him he hadn't even needed to wait for his order. The particular potions shop had just recently restocked with the blood of the more common magical creatures found in England, and Centaurs had been one of them.
Now, all he needed to do was wait for a good day and just…get it over with quickly.
The only break he got through all these brain numbing tasks that he uptook were the letters he exchanged with one, Fleur Delacour.
And boy was he surprised to realize how much he was enjoying talking to this world's Fleur. The girl was nothing like the prideful, arrogant, bratty girl that he'd remembered Fleur to be, especially before she grew up over the course of Triwizard Cup.
This Fleur was polite and understanding, atleast on paper. And god awful talented as well. The fact that the live phoenix was conjured by Fleur herself had blown away his mind. According to Bella, that was beyond master level work.
The little fiery Phoenix could now usually be found either sleeping in his pocket or perching on his shoulder.
That was all swept in the background however when the day of the ritual soon arrived. While he wasn't very enthused for the current ritual, it was something he needed to get past of as soon as he can.
Then…then the truly good stuff will start….
And Harry simply couldn't wait for it.
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The place he chose for the next ritual was the same one where he performed the previous one, deep in the forest behind Godric's hollow.
Unfortunately, he couldn't use the same magical sphere that he'd made for the physical ritual, what with them needing their own custom designs and symbols.
While it would've been infinitely better if all rituals needed just a single circle, Harry wasn't one to complain.
Indeed, the curses and swears that flew from his mouth as he stabbed into the ground were just his…ahh, general frustration at things really. Nothing to do with how mind-numbingly boring preparing for a single ritual really was.
Thankfully his enhanced strength and stamina enabled him to be done with the physical side of preparations quite quickly, and he was finally ready to start with the magical part of the ritual.
But hey, atleast this time he wouldn't be stumbling like a drunk troll due to a little bleeding.
He'll gladly take the small blessings in life.
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12 August, 1994
Harry glanced down at his shaft in disappointment, a sigh leaving him as the ritual finally came to a close.
It hadn't been as taxing as the previous ritual had been, but neither did it reward Harry with anything substantial.
Well….unless you call a massive eight incher a substantial reward.
His fingers jerked his member a little, to see if it'll start shooting some magical cumshots of death.
It didn't.
"This is the reward of all that hardwork?" He muttered with a sigh, letting it flop down. "A couple inches of meat?"
Well, at least he would now win all dick measuring contests…if anyone actually tries to start one with him, that is.
Harry sighed again. "Maybe I'll find someone who can actually fit it inside her."
Honestly, he shouldn't be feeling so disappointed at having a larger penis. He was sure there were some lords who would kill to have the knowledge of this particular ritual in their grasp.
But it was just…he didn't have a need for it. And it actually felt slightly humiliating, knowing that every girl he satisfies from now on will be more impressed by his penis than by his skills.
It was similar to the disappointment he'd felt at his younger self not being naturally genius, having to use a ritual to match Hermione. It just felt so bloody dishonest.
And while he'll still deal with it if it provides him with any kind of help on his mission, this particular ritual served no such purpose.
Still, there was nothing he could do but live with it now.
While it has been a major waste of time, money, and effort, it did open up a path for something greater now.
Or so he thought.
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13-18 August, 1994
Unfortunately, the useless ritual wasn't quite done with him, Harry found in the next few days.
His penis wasn't the only thing that got a sizable boost, the ritual had also included his testicles, enlargening them into large marbles, increasing his sexual appetipe by mulitple folds.
So the next few days passed quite uselessly for Harry, as he stayed in his room with Occlumency constantly active to stop himself from outright ravishing Bella.
Things eventually got so bad that he had to seek out some of the local girls for company, and take out his sexual frustrations on them.
A good thing those girls were looking for something exactly like that, or else he might've been facing multiple charges for being a little too…enthusiastic in bed.
But all this time wasted meant that he would've to delay his next ritual's preparation for after the world cup. Honestly? He didn't even know where to start this time. Dementor's cloak was something he'd never heard of or imagined before.
Even if he tried thinking about it logically, it only pointed to the shroud of darkness that all the Demenotors wore. But wasn't that supposed to be intangible? One of the reason that he'd theorized for Dementor's fear of patronus was due to both of them being untouchable, magical entities.
To get a cloak from a Dementor sounded like a tricky quest where the protagonist leads a wild goose chase only to later find the answer staring right at them.
Harry did not plan to be such a protagonist.
Unfortunately he was forced to shelve all of this for later, cause the time of the world cup soon arrived, bringing a massive workload on Bella.
The entire country was going crazy for the day, and while Harry wouldn't count himself as one of them….
It'd be a lie if he said he wasn't excited about it.
Though he'd wager his excitement came from something different than the rest of the populace.
Something that would no doubt horrify a lot of people if they actually knew about it….
Something that no one would ever imagine happening today.
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Jacob
'Today's the day' Jacob smiled, well and truly excited for the day ahead.
The final was finally here, and Jacob was even more excited for the day than he was for his birthday.
It wasn't just the match that got him shaking in eagerness, it was the fact that this day was the biggest magical event in the whole world. Thousands of witches and wizards from all over the world would be in attendance, making his birthday look like a puny after-party in comparison.
Though it was the 'Witches' part that put him through some fierce jitters. The last few days, he hadn't been able to keep himself from fantasizing some stupid scenarios in his mind.
The most popular one included bad guys, specifically death eaters, suddenly attacking the stadium in middle of the match in search of Jake, wanting to finish off The-Boy-Who-Lived once and for all. It ends badly for them however, when Jake whips out his own wand to make short work of them, while obviously also saving the goddess of his dream to earn her undivided affection.
Was it a little childish? Yeah, sure. But it was for his own mind's pleasure, so he let himself indulge in his imagination. It's not like someone's going to know what exactly goes through his mind anyway, so what's the harm?
Unfortunately, his dreams also had quite a few plot holes in them, which made them a bit too unrealistic for him to properly enjoy.
One of them was the fact that there was no way a bunch of bad guys would suddenly attack the stadium. His father had described, quite thoroughly in fact, what exactly would happen to anyone trying to start any funny business today. So Jake was almost disappointingly sure that today was going to be one of the most safest days ever.
Even if Grindelwald himself appeared in front of them, he would probably be on the ground, disarmed and captured, before he could even open his mouth to utter a spell.
Another major hole in his dream came from the fact that there was no way he could save the goddess of fire, Fleur Delacour, from anything she couldn't handle herself. From all the research he'd done in her subject, Jake was almost depressed to know that she could most likely whoop Diggory's arse black and blue.
Jacob had been trying his very best of improve himself as much as he could, but Lvl 4 Dueling status seemed as far away from him as ever.
But the biggest killer of his dreams came not from these things, but from one single person who seemed to have made it his life's dream to be better than Jake at everything.
Whenever his mind was imagining himself doing something particularly Heroic, his brother would suddenly come and poke his nose in, laughing at him from the side.
While he wasn't capable of talking in Jake's dreams, his eyes said everything that needs saying.
"Seriously, Jacob?" Those bright green eyes would smirk. "These are the things that I can actually do in real life, but you'll just have to be content with this dream I guess."
Once upon a time, Jacob had dreamt of his brother changing for the better. Prayed to Merlin to give him some brain cells to stop trying to attack Jake, and make up with his family.
Merlin had made his dreams come true...only to turn it into utter nightmare.
Harry had changed alright. He didn't try picking fights with him anymore. But where Jake had wanted him to stop doing so by admitting his weakness, he stopped because he simply couldn't bother about Jacob anymore.
Where he wanted Harry to apologize for his mistakes and be civil to his family, he was now taking over their hearts with his charisma and maturity instead, carving a permanent spot for himself that even Jacob couldn't do anything about.
It has gotten so bad that Jacob couldn't even dream properly without feeling ridiculously outmatched!
He still remembered their birthday, when all the close families had gathered for a private party in the night.
Bella had sent a Patronus to call Harry, but his twin had only arrived after over an hour...with a very beautiful french girl hanging on his arm, looking thoroughly satisfied and happy.
Jealousy, unlike anything he'd ever felt, had burnt into Jacob's heart like a wildfire in a dry wheat field. The only solace had been Ron's saucer-like wide eyes that must've surely looked more ridiculous than Jake's face.
It didn't help that his father and Bill Weasley seemed to subtly congratulate him. Neither did it help that all of his mother and Bella's anger was focused on the girl instead of his infuriatingly casual brother!
The only good part came from Mrs. Weasleys scandalized disapproval. A shame that had no effect on his brother whatsoever.
Hell, he could've sworn even Dora and Dorea seemed more excited about his brother's relationship than they'd ever been for his own!
"Filthy traitors, all of em'." Jacob muttered with a sigh, finally done with his daily dose of Harry–Hating.
His bad mood didn't last for long however, disappearing once he finally finished getting ready.
The Potters, Weasleys, and Tonks were supposed to have their own common tent for the day, and while Harry was sure to be there to take away the spotlight, Jacob wasn't one to hold onto bitterness when the mood of celebration and happiness was in the air.
He could even enjoy his brother's company sometimes, especially when he wasn't getting his arse licked by someone.
Who knows? Maybe his fated one was just waiting for him there, and have eyes only for him even with his brother around.
That girl, that girl would be the one true love of his life.
And Jacob might just find her today.
Whatever the case however, this world cup final was sure to be exciting.
Hopefully nothing too bad would happen.
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AN: Chapter 10 is done!
Honestly I'm not very happy with this chapter. Well, with just one part of it really: The timeskip. Really struggled to get that out correctly, though that was more due to how silly the dick ritual was.
Hope you guys enjoyed it atleast. Next up, we'll have the world cup.
That's all in this chap, see ya in the next!
P.S: The next chapter for demigods will be Mystique Soldier Ch.12 on 24.
Comments
Robs511
Once the path is selected, the rituals need to be done in a fixed sequence.
Robs511
fixed :)
Ilay Hyams
"Indeed, it was his duty as a man to bring the girl beside her to satisfying conclusion..." beside him*
Ilay Hyams
It kind of threw me off that he would be doing the dick ritual since he was just talking about the magic sensitivity ritual but besides that a good chapter
Gilgamos
Thanks for the chapter
