Chapter Text
Harry Potter
Ron left. And Hermione went right after him.
Harry Potter stood alone in the cold, silent tent he had shared with his two best friends until they decided to leave him behind. ( Again. ) They had good reasons, of course - no one wanted to be chased through the isles' haunted forests in a magically enforced tent, in the middle of winter like a fucked up parody of a camping trip. Knowing their reasons however, didn't make anything easier on the very cold, very lonely seventeen year old Harry Potter, whose only companion now was a cursed and possessed locket, the howling wind outside and a whole lot of Death Eaters chasing him, never too far but never quite catching up either. With a deep sigh, he lifted the necklace over his head and as soon as the locket touched his chest, he could feel it attach some kind of black, disgustingly slimy magic to his own. It was siphoning his inner core, latching onto every power source it could find, taxing him in every way possible.
Days went by in a new routine; Harry woke up from nightmares so real he sometimes couldn't differentiate between them and reality. His body was weak and shivering, even though the warming charms around his battered home were still holding up. Food was starting to run low too, but all alone as he was, he couldn't just pack up camp and sneak into the nearest town, it would be too risky and time consuming - setting up the protective charms by himself would take well over a day, especially with the cursed object eating up all his magical resources. As days turned into weeks and low resources turned into none, hope seemed to leave him just as his energy did, day by day. It was surprising really, that the horcrux hadn’t managed to bleed him dry and take on a corporeal form yet. Every wixen was aware that upon reaching their maturity at seventeen, they would have a last magical growth sprout so to speak, before their core settled for the next century or so, when it would start to slowly weaken just as their body started aging faster. Harry on the other hand has not experienced any kind of growth since his birthday. It was ironic, in a way - promised to be stronger than the century's Dark Lord, The-Boy-Who-Lived, survivor of the Killing Curse was a fairly average wizard power-wise. He did have some unearthly luck, yes. But magic? Sure, he had amazing accidental magic when he was a kid, but that was so long ago, and it didn't matter now anyway. What happens to the prophecy if I die here of starvation? Would that mean that this world is doomed? The thought makes him smile wryly.
All these years, all these mind games and adventures, near deaths and actual deaths - yet this is how it ends .
Left behind on his own in the Forest of Dean, Harry Potter closed his eyes and laid on the uncomfortable mattress he once had shared with his friends, all the warmth embracing him long gone, only memories remaining of soft hands and firm hugs. The locket rested above his heart, pulsing in time with every heartbeat, eating through magics – both his and other, foreign ones attached to him so long ago he never knew the difference – with vigor. And when it reached its goal, the charcoal stain on the otherwise pristine white core, it ate through most seals and blocks placed on the boy. The horcrux latched onto the tiny piece of its old self that had been embedded into this body, and everything snapped .
There was a moment of silence, the reverberating echoes of the joining of soul pieces once torn apart creating a kind of black hole for a moment.
Then everything came rushing back faster than light itself could move, the black mass tearing out, out, out, taking the remaining shards or powerful magics with it – and when it surfaced into the world for a second time, born anew, the Being let out a victorious scream just as the malnourished, lithe body on the floor, near its feet pushed out a magical wave so strong it shattered every ward and charm around the camp. The Being watched with glee as the boy writhed and thrashed in agony as wings tore out of his back, painting the tent's floor a violent red. Elongated white fangs and claws appeared just as peach colored scales started showing up on hisface, along hisarms and unseen to both parties in patches all over the body. Avada Kedavra eyes opened wide when the pain of the first change subsided.
In the distance, black cloaked figures started appearing, their arrival signaled by a pop and Harry knew he was so fucked when he counted eight, ten, sixteen, twenty Apparations.
Somewhere in his brain, under all the haze of no! no! no! and danger! danger! danger! get away from danger! Harry thought, 'This is how it will end, isn't it?'. But something deep down inside him was growling and he thought he might have been growling too, something fierce and oh so powerful. The dark figures started closing in, sticks – wands, he corrected himself – pointed at him threateningly and when the first colorful ray came his way, mighty wings sheltered his delicate body from the spell. It still cut deep and sent pain through every nerve ending, as the others started joining in, laughter clear in their voices as curses and spells rained down on his new wings. The pain was too much and there were too many for him to fight alone and somewhere in his very soul, something purred . He didn’t have to do it alone anymore.
Harry let his new instincts take over, pulled his consciousness deeper inside as the creature he now shared his body with tipped their head back and let out a scream so loud and clear, it rang through worlds and dimensions, summoning all who could help him.
Theodore Nott
Theo was immersed in an old tome gifted to him by his Oretta, when he saw his father running through the sitting room he had been relaxing in. The wizard was apparently in a great enough hurry to not even notice his own heir. The man was wearing his Death Eater robes, his dark mahogany wand grasped in his left hand, as he fumbled for the bone white mask sitting on the mantle of their fireplace. He seemed equal parts delighted and frightened, as most do when the Dark Lord Voldemort summons them without notice beforehand. Theo wondered if his father would ever realize how pathetic he looked, simpering after a Lord who would Crucio him for entertainment, running like a dog every time his Master whistled. When the older Nott finally got his mask to sit just right on his face, he sharply turned on his heel and apparated away in a flash. Theodore just shook his head with a disgusted frown fixed on his face and turned back to the pages containing Olde Magicks so dark, his father's Lord would probably salivate over them. He couldn’t focus entirely, he realized with a start, something akin to a weight was slowly pressing down on his chest, pushing and pulling at the same time, as if it wasn’t quite sure what direction to go. He only had enough time to put the book down on the side table next to his love seat when the feeling suddenly sharpened, and there was no stopping the Soul Magic yanking him through wards and space to get to his Submissive's side.
Charlie Weasley
The Romanian Dragon Preserve was in an unprecedented lull. The first rays of sunshine had yet to breach the sky, most nocturnal dragons had already decided to head back to their nests, while the others had not deemed it late enough to wake. Some of his fellow dragon tamers wandered around, waving at him where he sat on his porch, but none approached – it was way too early for any kind of human interaction.
Charlie liked these ungodly early mornings at the reserve. He loved his job, his coworkers, the dragons, oh Ergen how he loved his fire breathing friends. He was eighteen when he left the Burrow behind, after his brother Bill shared the truth of their family with him – one of their parents was a dragel , and they all had their inheritances sealed shortly after their birth. It came out as a nasty surprise when Bill first started working for the goblins at Gringotts and had to go through a blood purification and seal removal as well. Of course, he couldn't just tell all his younger siblings what he had discovered. He decided to wait until they reached their maturity at seventeen, so they could decide on their own if they wanted to know this part of themselves. Charlie did. He was absolutely furious at being denied his inheritance for so long, especially after finally feeling the power running through his veins, the wind playing with his wings, the fire born of his new elemental magic weaving through his fingers. Both his and Bill's mentors showed up shortly after their seals were removed, both shocked and appalled at what had been done to their mentees. Ebony, Charlie's mentor, was a true firecracker in the most literal sense of the word. As the Crown Princess of the Fire Court, her element was stronger than most. She was disciplined yet free as a Royal could be, with a temper so quick it could burn through a forest quicker than most could blink - Charlie has adored Ebony since their very first meeting and their mentor-mentee bond had only grown stronger over the years. He spent quite some time in Nevarah after his inheritance, since his Oretta couldn't just leave the Crown behind. After eight years spent in Nevarah however, Charlie wanted to go back to the dragon reserve he never got the chance to really work at. He missed Earth and its wizards, the magical creatures he always wanted to study. And so he packed his things and two-years-in-Earth-time after his graduation, he started working in Romania. The dragons adored him and he wanted to adopt every single one of them. At night, he let out his wings and flew with the horde, feeling free and at peace again.
Yesterday was no exception, he had visited the older Norwegian Ridgeback that lived quite a few miles away to check up on him, and this little trip took an entire night. Even with his heightened senses, it was somewhat difficult to track down a seasoned dragon that didn't really want to be found. It was well after eleven when he finally found Eravan, who had decided to relocate his nest deeper into the mountains bordering the Preserve for more protection. Charlie spent a few hours with him, playing chase with a few younger Ridgebacks who wandered closer to them after they realized he was visiting, before flying back to his hut.
Since he had yet to lay down and actually sleep, at first he thought he was imagining the dull pain in his chest. When rubbing at it didn't help one bit, he frowned in confusion, just as the pain started growing and pulling . He only had time to suck in a breath and brace himself before the white-blue light of a portal ripped him from his tiny porch to an unknown location.
Fred and George Weasley
The twins were preparing for opening the shop tomorrow, stocking anything that had run too low, mopping the floor – again , like where even is all this dust coming from ? –closing the register and talking about some new prank product ideas, when something like mild electricity ran through both of them. Fred dropped the mop he had been holding onto until now, while galleons slipped from George's fingers, as they stared at each other with wide eyes. Their wings sprung forth just as Soul Magic started pulling them through space and time until they landed in a frozen landscape. Taking up a protective stance on both sides of the still screaming Submissive – their Submissive, bloody Hell – while trying not to panic at the amount of Death Eaters circling them. George sent a wave of comfort through their twin bond and Fred's muscles relaxed a fraction as he too realized that help was coming – they were probably the closest Soulbonded, and as such had arrived the fastest. Blue and orange flames danced around them, eating up the snow on the ground but not letting the forest around them catch on fire. The wizards surrounding them however leapt back, terrified of the flames that were eerily similar to Fiendfyre. When only seconds later other dragels started 'porting in, the Pareya twins focused all their attention on the – oh Chaos help them, just how many mates were there ? – still screaming Submissive.
Glancing down on the beautiful face of the young boy, both Weasleys sucked in a surprised breath as they realized that the person kneeling before them was no other than The Harry Potter.
Of course, they snickered to themselves. Who else?
Helion Kalzik
The clinic was busy as always, especially right before the Hunt. Helion knew he shouldn't have decided to visit his brother as soon as his contract was up in the Pits, but the last time he dared to wait even a few hours, Quinn almost tore his head off. It was not like he had been fatally injured - or injured at all, for that matter - but his little brother always demanded to be the first one to check him over. As a Gheyic Alpha, Helion was not really accustomed to being pampered, however he was still a Kalzik – coming from a long line of Healers meant that he knew very well just how overbearing one of them could be. He finally found Quinten in the cafeteria, reading over some reports while slowly sipping from a mug of coffee so big it couldn't be healthy. When his brother finally noticed his presence, his head snapped up, a smile already stretching wide on his face.
Helion! You are finally back! He was quick to stand up, arms already reaching to pull his big brother into a hug.
"Hey Quinn, how has the clinic been treating you? Still working under that old bitch of a matron?" He grumbled quietly, absolutely prepared for the blow his brother swiftly connected to his ribs before he even finished the last sentence.
You know you can't speak about Master Healer Erien like that!
"Yes I can." Helion responded teasingly, only partly serious.
No, you can't, you big oaf! She is a well established Healer and has a very good reputation! Even if she is a bit… demanding…
"You mean, she is a cranky old bitch exploiting your heart of gold, I think" Helion lifted an eyebrow and this time Quinn just sent him a look . "I just came to say hi before visiting the estate. I'm not sure where I will spend the Hunt yet, but I guess it will depend on Mera as well. Last time, she didn't let me leave the estate grounds for a week after my contract was up."
You were gone for five years, Helion. Everyone missed you. Mera is just worried about you.
Quinn seemed to have mastered the sad-accusing puppy eyes from their sister Shani and he was using them damn well. Helion felt a flicker of shame before he caught himself and remembered why he went into the Pits for such long periods of time. He shook his head a bit before focusing back on his brother's teal eyes, giving him a wry grin.
"I thought you ordered me here last time to check on me, yet I haven’t felt a single one of your spells wash over me. Are you going soft on me, Quinn?" He felt a powerful wave of diagnostic magic force its way through his shields and engulf his whole body, while Quinn conjured a piece of paper and a pen to take notes of whatever his spells reported back to him. He still seemed pissed and Helion couldn’t help the smirk tugging at his lips at the sight. He missed his brothers and sisters a great deal more than he would like to admit.
I can't believe that basic wing care is such an unrealistic expectation in the Pits as yours suggest. Taking care of appendages that can help you fly should be common sense!
"It's just low priority" Helion shrugged, even as the Healer glared something fierce at him. He knew it sounded like a weak excuse but it was true. Sure, he could technically spend more time preening his wings, putting oils and such on them the way they were taught as kids, but the Pits demanded other tasks came first.
Helion Kalzik, you-
The all encompassing light that hugged him and tugged him from Nevarah felt like a godsend in that second. Even a Soulscream sounded better than an enraged Healer.
Obelin, Domenic and Devrim
Obelin has had enough of Aiden's bullshit. He had to go to Earth, of all places, to secure a little elven girl and her father after they contacted the Elven Courts in an emergency. Why, exactly, he was deemed fit to go was still a great mystery to him. But if the smile on Aiden's face when he sent him here was any indication, it couldn’t be anything good. And to top it all off, he got himself two bodyguards. As if he was still a pup! Oh, his Lord was going to pay for this. He wouldn’t do the paperwork for months - never mind that the Hunt was starting in just under a week. No more playing secretary, no more arranging appointments, no more rescuing little elven seers for the Queen. He was an esteemed part of Death's Court, after all.
"Are you two aware why we were chosen to go on this particular mission?" He asked irritably, not caring enough around these two to hide his annoyance.
"Wouldn't say so, no. I was meant to meet up with a few Mages to head out to a different realm in two days time, so I hope this won't take much longer than that. As much as I feel for the elves in distress, I do not see the reason behind me being here." The Storm Gheyo muttered just loudly enough for them to hear as they landed in a clearing, clearly having reached Earth.
"I'm a Realm-runner." The rather pretty Gheyo stated, as if that'd shine a light on his presence. It did make sense, for a Realm-runner to join their little team, Obelin had to admit to himself, but it was not necessary at all . There were very few of them and it was always so hard to catch one between their runs, but their knowledge and presence was greatly appreciated on every mission. Their inter-realm portals were second only to Mages, steady and on point, hard to break and ever so pleasant to travel with. Still didn't make sense for all three of them to come, unless there was an army hiding nearby that needed to be disposed of.
They started walking towards the elven wards all of them could sense, switching forms until their most telling features – wings, scales, tails and claws – were no longer on display.
"I wonder why they gave a distress call. The wards seem intact to me." Obelin couldn’t help but point out as they got closer. This little adventure they were sent on seemed to be getting weirder by the second. As soon as they reached the line of the wards, they opened up to let them through and after some mild hesitation, all of them decided to step through. The Gheyos exchanged a meaningful glance, both sliding their hands on their respective swords. Obelin just wanted to get this over with , so he strode forward, not caring about the grumpy, hissing Gheyos he left behind, stepping up to the door of the weird house they had reached. It was really weird, even for an elven home, saturated as it was in magic from the Ley-line it probably laid on. The magic around it whispered and giggled at them, small strands weaving themselves into their hair, slipping under their armor. It was rather disturbing. Then the door suddenly opened and before them stood a girl with snow white hair and eyes the classic mystic-blue shade of a seer, smiling serenely at them.
"Finally, I thought you would never arrive! Come in, come in, the tea has almost turned cold." She ushered them in with a disapproving pout and the three seasoned warriors sheepishly stepped into the cozy home of the two elves they were supposed to rescue. The flames merrily danced in the fireplace, painting the walls in a warm tone and the air was heavy with the scent of herbal tea and ginger snaps. At least there was no trace of impish magic trying to worm itself under their clothes and shields. They were led to a table where a man sat, sipping his cup of tea with a dreamy smile on his face – he didn’t acknowledge them more than tipping his head in their direction, before his eyes grew even hazier than his daughter's.
"Don't mind Daddy, his Sight has been coming forth more often lately, there are a lot of troublesome Wrackspruts he has to keep an eye on." The young female elf chimed as she poured them all a cuppa."Oh don't look so suspicious, it's just tea!" She giggled as all three of them hesitated to start on their beverage. "Now take a seat, you have arrived a bit late but still on schedule, so now we have a few minutes to get to know each other, before you are needed."
Obelin considered the small female before him, then since there wasn't really another option, he took a seat on the opposite side of the table, facing their hosts. Bloody seers and their all-knowing little smiles and murky riddles - it never failed to creep him out. The Storm Joker seemed to be too on edge to sit down, instead he leaned against the wall in a fashion that let him see all of them clearly, but the other one with the lovely pink eyes took a seat at his side. They spent the next few minutes in eerie silence, only broken when the girl – whose name was still a mystery – offered them ginger snaps.The cookies appeared to be straight from the oven, all warm and oozing sweet aromas. None of them took any, but she didn’t seem offended and just finished one herself before packing up the rest in a box, muttering something about needing them later. Needless to say, as time went on and nothing happened, the Nevarean guests started to grow restless.
"Just a couple more minutes now, truly. He is already waiting for you, has been for so long. He already needs you, he just doesn't know how to call yet." She sighed, her eyes sharpening for a few moments as she studied them in earnest. "You will be good for him, yes, you needed to be close when the call came. Brace yourselves now, the portal will come any second now. It was so lovely to meet you!" She added as if an afterthought, her eyes growing distant again. A content smile sneaked up on her face as Obelin's chest started to tighten and his companions gasped for air in tandem, then they were sailing through space for a short time. So short in fact, they were surely still on Earth. Landing in the mud with protective flames warming his back, a desperate scream still ringing in the air and more than two dozen cloaked figures before him, Obelin thought maybe seers weren't all that bad.
Brishen
Brishen has been asleep for a very, very long time now. He was placed into his cave to guard the only entrance to Lady Fate's Resting Place. Since the Immortal Lady has been sleeping for so long, he himself grew tired and ended up joining her in a dreamless slumber. It had been a few hundred years since he had been last awake and as such when the ringing and dull pulling started, he batted away the feeling, willing himself to stay asleep until his Lady called for him. But the feeling stayed and grew even more annoying as time went on. It buzzed under his skin, pulled at his magic and soul, tickled his senses in a way he couldn’t ignore. He was slow to awaken, his senses coming back one after the other, as Brishen oriented himself, regaining control over his mind and body. The insistent little piece of Soul Magic kept tugging and he growled at it, but it wouldn’t stop . Dully, he realized that it was probably a Soulscream, but he was too deep in the Ocean, his cave too saturated in decades worth of magic that had seeped out of him without direction while his control slipped, to pull him clean through. And so he slowly woke, taking stock of himself and his belongings, searching out his trusty trident, letting his magic creep out in small tendrils. It was not long after the pulling stopped being so sharp, that he finally moved, limbs still feeling a bit foreign.
The Scream probably stopped, but the Soulbond it awakened would’nt stop pulling until it was fulfilled. Brishen flexed all his muscles one last time, before he started to pull himself through the water mass and layers upon layers of haphazard wards, without disturbing any. It was slow and tedious and he could only hope his new Submissive would forgive him for the late arrival.
Idan and Minh
Idan comfortably stretched out on his back as Minh drew closer, draping his naked form over the other’s, like a parody of a blanket. It was still enjoyable, so Idan didn’t utter a word, as the other Gheyo started playing with his hair, running gentle fingers through long locks, playfully tugging on a few of his braids. They had just returned to their shared apartment from patrol, both rather tired from flying around Nevarah's border for hours on end without much rest. The Hunt was close and as such, the Royals demanded more patrols than usual. Thankfully, this year it was the Earth Courts' turn to host and as Air Dragels, they were only called in as reinforcement, the bulk of the work falling on the Earth Dragels. Just as he felt Minh's hand in his hair slow and become lax, Idan's senses perked up and with a flick of his hands both of them were fully clothed in their flexi-suits, daggers hanging from their belts. Minh only had enough time to groan out half a curse before they were swept up in whites and blues, hurling through realms, until the portal spat them out in the middle of a battlefield. Several Gheyos were already engaged, using their elements to fend off spells from figures with… sticks? The short focus objects sent colorful rays towards them and Idan and Minh didn’t wait around to find out what happened upon contact. Unfurling their wings they both took to the air, their magic giving them a much needed boost on the flat terrain. From above, it was much easier to spot the little huddle of a Submissive and two Pareya. With a nod of his head, Idan sent Minh towards the small group and the Princess didn't hesitate to instantly fly over, hovering above them to give cover.
Idan himself joined the other dragels still fighting with the never ending flow of black cloaked figures. They seemed to pop in without a portal, only a weird sound signaling their departure or arrival, and it messed with Idan's senses in a way he didn't appreciate.
He cast out his magic with the intent of stopping this annoying traveling, building a dome of Air Magic, backed with the natural energies the forest itself gave him to boost the impromptu wards. When foreign, zappy magic started to entwine with his own, he almost pulled back, but the power seemed to feed his own, building the dome higher and stronger, until the annoying sound of crack was no more, instead panic and screams filled the air as the enemy realized their back up plan had been rendered useless. Idan smirked to himself as he held his position above the battlefield, anchoring the dome to himself and holding it stable, only letting through the last few dragels who apparently were even further away than Nevarah's Air Courts.