Blood Ties

Shouting woke them, and once their eyes were open, they could feel something in the air that slapped the rest of the sleep from them. The darkness was awash in the tingle of something powerful and strange. Harry felt the hair rise on his arms and neck as he scrambled out of bed. He stumbled into Ron and they heard a yelp as Neville collided with something solid. A weird light flickered at the windows and they could hear voices yelling, some sounding angry, others frightened.

Harry got to the window first with his glasses in his hand. He put them on hastily and peeked down at the grounds as the other boys jostled him for a view. Whatever was going on was around a tower , so after a moment of trying to get a better look, they turned and ran downstairs,

“What do you think could be wrong?” gasped Ron. They burst into the common room, only to find it full of more confused students. Hermione found them in the crowd and hurried over. She had her fire in a jar for light . They could hear the yelling better down there, and over it all was what sounded like the howl of a maelstrom. Somewhere in the confusion, Harry thought he heard a dog barking. Was it Sirius? he thought suddenly. Had he been caught trying to get back in to see Harry?

They were being slowly swept along toward the main gates of Hogwarts by the flood of students pouring from their respective houses. Truly worried now, Harry fought his way through the crowd, Ron and Hermione pushing their way after him. Once they reached the front doors, the crowd seemed to stop. Harry saw awed looks on the faces of the students up front, as the weird, pale blue light flickered over their faces. Being small and skinny was an advantage here, so Harry wormed his way through the crowd, only to be faced by a yelling Professor McGonagall.

“For the last time stay back!” she shouted. “This is no place for a horde of children. Will you all please-” She never got to say what she wanted them to do because a collective gasp from the students who weren’t listening to begin with made her turn around quickly. Harry had to crane his neck to see it himself and even after the strange things he had seen in the past few years, he sucked in his breath so sharply it whistled.

There was a hole in space right outside the Hogwarts gate. It was like watching a lighted match held behind a picture of the grounds and burning an opening through it, only instead of turning black and ashy, the edges became a spinning lightning. Through this hole, shapes were moving. There was a strange man Harry had never seen before running around with a tall carved cane. He and Dumbledore were shouting at each other over the howling wind that seemed to come from the hole. When the hole was large enough for a car to go though, it still wasn’t touching the ground.

As it widened, people began pouring out. They were children mostly, of various ages, all in open black wizard’s robes. A few adults were there, trying to hurry them along. Strange pieces of furniture were walking out also, a couch piled with footlockers and books came waddling out on its carved wooden legs. Also in the chaos, a large, wolf-like white dog was running to and fro, barking its head off. Harry felt relieved that it wasn’t Sirius, but then there was a flash of orange and his eyes went back to the hole. “It’s a portal!” Hermione suddenly yelled into his ear. “It’s a traveling spell for large groups.” And there was a lot of them. Hogwarts professors and prefects were leading the strange children up to the main gate. Professor. McGonagall recovered and began clearing a path through the gathered students, for the newcomers to pass. They all stank of smoke and many were in tears. Harry heard some gasps as they all realized that many of the strangers were bloody as well as frightened. A Hufflepuff prefect had to carry a sobbing girl with a hand clutched to her left eye. The whole side of her face was too bloody to tell how badly she was hurt.

Harry looked back to the open portal as the orange glow intensified. As the last of the strangers jumped out and came limping up the walk, he could see a lone silhouette still in the portal, running hard for the opening. Behind it came something huge and rolling like a storm cloud, only it was a fiery, pestilent orange. His hand crept to his scar unconsciously. The cane-waving man words suddenly became clear in the shocked hush.

“Close it!” he was screaming. “Close it now!”

“What about the person still inside?” gasped Hermione. Her hand had clutched his shoulder tightly as she rose on tiptoe to see better. Two wizards still remaining by the portal made a quick gesture with their arms and came jogging up the path. One had to grab the white dog as it lunged past and drag it, howling towards the doorway. The portal began to slowly close, like a huge sleepy eye.

“Hurry, hurry,” he heard Hermione moan beside him. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the running figure. The opening was now half the size it had been. On the other side, the last person was almost there. The poisonous cloud of radioactive orange flames was still on the runner’s heels. The portal was now the size of a manhole cover. Dudley wouldn’t be able to fit through it, he found himself musing. Then, in a small explosion of black cloth, the robed figure burst from the shrinking opening at a speed that sent it sprawling onto the courtyard.

Pale hair spilled out of the hood, framing a face even more pale. It was a woman with a pair of dark glasses askew on her nose. She was wheezing for air and trying to scramble to her feet. Behind her, the portal shrank to the size of a dinner plate. There was a yelp from the man holding the dog as it bit him and a blur of white as it raced to the woman’s side. Then, a tentacle of the bright, fire-cloud wisped out of the hole as it shrank to the size of a fist and then vanished. The wisp of fire-cloud snaked like a living thing in the air, then fired like a bolt into the woman’s back as she lurched to her feet.

Several of the Hogwarts staff had rushed forward at first fight of the thing, but none of them were quick enough to get there before it hit. It ripped through her like an arrow and she screamed, a high, burning sound that made the whole crowd of students cringe. Harry gasped along with them, but in that brief instant, with her body arched in pain, he thought he saw her eyes flare red.

The bolt went all the way through her, bouncing off the pavement like a rubber ball and then snaking towards the clustered students still in the doorway. Someone screamed, it sounded like Pansy Parkinson, and Professor. McGonagall ran to block them with her body, her arms spread wide. There was a flutter of black and Snape was in front of her, wand out towards the flaming bolt. He shouted something and what looked like a coppery spiderweb shot from he wand to wrap itself around on the oncoming cloud. It writhed in the trap, glowing with an evil light that made your skin crawl where it fell on you.

“Stay back!” came a new shout and the robed woman was on her feet again. Harry was surprised that such a commanding voice could come from such a wreck of a person. She was standing, but just barely, knees locked together to keep her from collapsing. One thin hand clutched at the place right below her collarbone where the bolt had exited. She was shaking and smoke still rose from her black robes. Harry thought he had never seen anyone look so colorless or frail. No sooner than that crossed his mind though, she shouted again, this time a spell of her own.

A bright orb appeared around the snared cloud. It glowed silver, then five beams of laser-bright lightning blasted the thing from various points in the orb. The cloud thrashed, looking like a fiery caterpillar pierced alive on bright wires. It struggled on them weakly, and finally exploded, taking the orb with it and leaving only the stink of burning hair. Snape looked at it and then at the woman, who had begun a weary slide to the ground. He looked sour, Harry thought, probably because he had wanted to destroy the thing himself.

The white dog was pummeling the woman with happiness, jumping around, barking, and pawing at her. She sank to her knees on the cobblestones. Dumbledore and Hagrid had crept to her side, followed by the man with the cane, and after a moment, Snape. The dog stopped its racket when Hagrid spoke to it and became still under his hand. He scooped it up easily under his arm and patted its head. There was a muttered conference between the other men and Snape lifted the woman to carry her inside. At that, Professor. McGonagall turned to the students, and with hands raised to shush their questions, began to herd them back inside.

“You will hear all about it in the morning,” she kept repeating. Her voice was cracking from stress and her eyes were wild. No one could remember ever seeing the usually prim Professor so shaken. As they passed the Great Hall, they caught glimpses of the strange students being bundled into familiar purple sleeping bags. Madame Pomfrey moved among them, bending over a weeping boy’s charred arm.

“What could it be?” whispered Ron, pale beneath the freckles.

“They’re obviously wizard students like us,” sniffed Hermione. “From another magic school somewhere. Did you see how they’re robes were made? More like coats really.”

“I mean,” grumbled Ron. “What could’ve happened to bring them all here.”

“Hogwarts is the safest place anywhere from the Dark Arts.” she returned. “And if that thing wasn’t some sort of Dark Magic, I’ll eat Hedwig.”

And so with that, they were all shooed back to their rooms to wonder about it. Harry found himself sitting up on his bed talking to his roommates in the dark. For the most part, they found themselves agreeing with Hermione. Harry remembered the flicker of red he had seen in the pale woman’s eyes when the bolt had hit her. In his experience, glowing red eyes was a bad sign all around. Had the fire-cloud done something to her? Had it left something inside her when it went through? Or was she not as human as she looked? That thought raised gooseflesh on him.

I should smuggle Crookshanks in to see her and see what happens, he thought. He wished Sirius were there to ask about it. Then, it hit him. He just had to ask Professor Moody about him. Though they weren’t on as friendly terms as Harry had been with the impostor Moody, if there was anything even remotely shady about anyone, the paranoid Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher would be on it. Like Crookshanks on Scabbers, he thought, with a slightly guilty smile. By then, Neville was yawning and they were all losing their initial excitement. With muffled goodnights, they climbed back into bed and settled down.

Morning came, still smelling smoky. Hermione came to get them out of bed and they walked to breakfast together. Hermione was talking excitedly about the different things she and the other girls had thought up about the cloud. She was anxious to meet the other students and find out about their school.

“Isn’t bad enough they got burned out of their own school without giving them the third degree too?” Ron asked, half serious. She ignored him and they hurried in for breakfast. There were four strangers sitting at the Gryffindor table with their breakfasts. They looked sheepish and jumpy. More of the newcomers were scattered around, all looking as if they hadn’t slept very well. The four at their table looked up nervously as Hermione came marching up to them. The oldest was a very tanned girl with big earrings, then a younger boy with a buzzcut eating pancakes, a girl with a long black braid that nearly touched the floor, and very young boy who looked enough like her to be her brother. He only looked about five and wore a pair of goggles pushed up on his head. Hermione introduced herself to them without hesitation and dragged Ron and Harry over too.

“I’m Thomas,” said the kid with the buzzcut hair. He had a teensy smile. “Chloe” said the oldest girl, holding out a hand to each. She seemed determined to be nonchalant.

“I’m Newton,” piped up the youngest buy, the only one to show real good cheer. “That’s my sister Raye. Hi!”

“What school are you from?” Hermione asked eagerly, reaching for the preserves. “Can you tell us about it?” They blinked at her a moment and then Chloe answered with a shake of her head that made her earrings chime.

“ Mount Elmskill “ she said, clasping her hands under her chin. “It’s in Massachusetts, but that’s only if the place is still standing.”

“I’ve never heard of it,” muttered Ron, looking sideways at Raye, who was fidgeting with the end of her braid. She really was pretty, Harry thought, but she looked like she’d die of fright if someone tapped her on the shoulder. He was also a little surprised that they were so loose with its location, remembering how tense the other schools he had known of were on that subject.

“What was it that drove you all out?” he asked. Thomas stopped with his fork halfway to his mouth. Raye went completely white. Newton slowly pulled his goggles down over his eyes.

“A Morthahg,” said Chloe, giving her companions a courageous look. “Some sort of hate left over from the old days. Its like a ghost fire that only burns magical things, including witches or wizards. Professor Zephyr said that it’s left over for the witch trial days in Salem, made out of all the hate and fear the Muggles had back then. It wants to kill everything magic.”

‘That’s awful...” Hermione said, sounding shocked. Thomas nodded wisely.

“It is. Nobody knows how it was released again either, but Professor Zephyr laid a trap for it.” he resumed eating. “The only thing was it had to be done fast and we couldn’t all get away before it got into the school.”

“Professor Zephyr must be your Defense Against Dark Arts teacher,” Hermione looked thrilled to have such information. “Is that the woman who came out last?” Thomas nodded with his mouth full and swallowed quickly.

“Yeah,” he said, sighing. “She’s in the infirmary now. We were already inside, but we heard her scream.” Harry remembered the red eyes and kept silent. Maybe she was supposed to have red eyes, he told himself. Or maybe it was just a reflection of all the fiery thing itself.

But the feeling was there that what he had seen was a reason to worry. He remembered the basilik’s voice in the pipes. He had felt like this then, too. He didn’t know if it was a good idea to bring that up in front of the strange students, so he reached for some marmalade and tried to refocus on the conversation. Hermione had asked about the pins on the front of the strangers black robes and Chloe leaned forward to show it off better. It was a shadow of a stag’s head with the full moon framed in its antlers, done in silver.

“That’s my house symbol,” Chloe said with pride. “ I’m in the House of Kyllonen. So is Raye.” Harry craned to see Thomas’ badge and the boy showed it with a nearly a whole smile. His was a gray spider in a circle half white and half black. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ron make a face and hoped Thomas wouldn’t notice.

“House of Weaver,” Thomas was saying. “All our houses are named after the founding witches.”

“ Mount Elmskill was founded by women?” Hermione’s eyes lit up and Chloe grinned at her.

“When the witch trials were over, there were only four survivors with any real power left. So they took all the orphans of the those killed and went to a place in the hills to live alone. Eventually, it became a school. They declared each other sisters, and each chose a phase of the moon and a guardian animal spirit, and made a house.

“The House of Kyllonen is named after Abigail Kyllonen. It’s the House of the Full Moon and the Staghome. That’s why they’re both on my badge. We’re supposed to be brave fools and tragic heroes. The House of Weaver is the opposite though.” She grinned at Thomas who took up the tale from there.

“Lacilla Weaver was the youngest one of the sisters.” he said. “She was supposed to have been some sort of neat freak, but her house was devoted to reason and logic. We’re supposed to be scholars and wisepeople, though I may be the exception to that.” He smiled again, then looked down the table to where Newton was practically dancing in his chair. “Would you like to tell about your House, Newt?”

“Yeah! Look!” the boy held up his badge eagerly. It had a crescent moon on one side and a fox leaping in an arc to create a whole circle. “I’m in the House of Goodall! Her name was Tamsin and it was her idea to make their safe place a school. She was psychic and they say she can talk to the students in her house in dreams.”

“Aren’t you a little young to be in wizard school?” Ron asked him, frowning as Newton’s bouncing sloshed his juice. “We don’t start until we’re eleven.”

“With us, you can start as soon as you start showing signs of the ability.” Chloe said with a shrug. “I didn’t start until I was almost thirteen.”

“What’s the fourth house like?” Harry asked, and Thomas rolled his eyes. Chloe grinned again, her teeth bright against her dark skin.

The House of Bantling,” she said with some ceremony. “Was founded by Morrigan Bantling who was a bit of a nutcase. They’re like tricksters I guess, all their magic spells are tricky, mind-fooling things. But here, if you meet one, you’ll know what I mean. Hey, Zackory! C’mere!” She stood and waved and tall boy with long blond hair came over. He wore a smirk that made you want to hit him on sight, which was just what Chloe did. She slugged him in the shoulder, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“I thought my ears were burning,” he said, half chuckling. He scooted in next to Hermione, who recoiled. He gave her a wink and then looked up at Chloe expectantly while swiping a piece of Ron’s bacon. Before either Hermione or Ron could react, Chloe reached across the table and grabbed his badge to pull it into view. At first glance, it looked blank, just a round black disk. When she tilted it though, you could see the outline of a bat in flight, a black circle within the circle of it’s wings. Zackory munched the bacon in silence.

“The House of Bantling has the new moon for its symbol,” Chloe went on, sounding for all the world like she was making a documentary. Zackory began slowly chewing louder and louder to drown her out. Even Ron was starting to grin as Chloe had to keep talking slightly louder. Finally, she gave him a smack with the back of her hand. He made a choking noise as if she’d knocked a piece of bacon down his throat. He gagged and began to change colors. Chloe ignored him, continuing her story on the oddities of the Bantling students. Harry was beginning to get alarmed though. Zackory was now nearly purple and getting bug-eyed.

Hermione finally broke and begin to slap him on the back. Ron was getting to his feet to get help. Hermione dashed behind Zackory and grabbed him. Harry assumed she meant to try the Heimlich maneuver on him, but as soon as her arms were around him, he grabbed her wrists and leaned back to snuggle her neck.

“You’re so sweet,” he said calmly, all traces of his hacking gone. “Not like Chloe, she wouldn’t shut up to save my life. I could choke to death in front of her and she wouldn’t raise so much as an eyebrow. “ Hermione had squeaked in alarm when he’d caught her hands, but she was now turning bright red herself. Apparently sensing disaster, Zackory kissed her hand and hurried off with another grin before she could explode.

“Don’t worry,” Chloe told her. “I’m going to marry him and make him miserable some day.”

“You’ve decided already??” sputtered Ron, looking between her and Hermione who still looked close to killing someone. Chloe nodded towards Newton, who’d shoved his goggles up past his forehead again.

“Newt’s first try at Divination said so,” she replied, with a smile. Newton shrugged in an embarrassed way. A puff of smoke made them all turn to see Dumbledore at the front of the room.

“Who’s that?” whispered Newton.

“The Headmaster,” Chloe hissed back. “Hush.”

“He looks nicer than ours,” Newton continued. He was hushed again and Dumbledore began. He explained the situation at and that the Mount Elmskill students would be staying at Hogwarts until their teachers could get their old school into decent shape again . Letters were being sent to the parents of the Mount Elmskill students, and they were all being asked to send a personal note along to reassure their families. In the meantime, arrangements were being made for the newcomers. Each Hogwarts House would ‘host’ an Elmskill House. Ravenclaw was hosting the House of Goodall, Hufflepuff , the House of Weaver, Gryffindor would host the House of Kyllonen, (Hermione beamed at Chloe) and Slytherin was to host the House of Bantling.

“They deserve it too!” snorted Ron, trying to laugh outright. “Can you imagine Snape with a house full of jokers like that guy?”

“He’ll kill them...” said Hermione, her eyes widening a bit.

“Or they’ll drive him out of his head,” added Harry, grinning too. Dumbledore went on. The good news was that there would be no classes that day to help everyone get settled. A cheer rose from the Hogwarts students. The bad news was that there was a lot of work to do. Each house’s prefect was given a list of things to do, and they were all sent off to prepare for the new students. Students from both schools were called to help set up cots, which was difficult because as soon as they were unfolded, they’d bolt around like mountain goats.

In all the bustle and chatter, Harry noticed Raye slink off . He was too busy helping two Kyllonen boys move into their dorm to think much of it until he saw her again on the way to lunch with Ron. Chloe and Hermione were yakking away like blue jays so they didn’t notice when the dark girl appeared with a look of flat anger on her round face. She didn’t seem to notice them either and stormed off with her braid swinging and her fists clenched. Harry elbowed Ron and nodded towards her.

“What’s with her?” Ron asked. “What would she be lurking around the infirmary for?’ Harry watched the chatting girls disappear around a corner and quietly went to the door Raye had appeared from. Ron followed, looking around the hallway for anyone as Harry opened the door a fraction to peek in.

“Come in,” a voice snapped and he jumped, knocking the door open wider. The pale woman lay in the bed, propped up an a pile of lavender pillows. The white dog lay sprawled across the bed, dark eyes fastened on them. Harry gulped. She looked like a snow queen. Her face was smooth and flawless and very pale. A mane of white hair hung around her face like a lion’s. It was her eyes, though, that kept him frozen. They looked brown in the shadow, but he could see that the iris was actually a deep, bloody crimson.

Self-consciously, he walked in and managed a quick bow. He felt a little foolish, but it seemed appropriate. He noticed Ron had disappeared from behind him and felt betrayed. He noticed the dog was watching him with an almost predatory eagerness.

“Ms. Zephyr?” he asked, wildly assuming that she wasn’t married. “ I’ve just come to,uh...”

“Have a look?” she offered, voice dangerously soft. She had a voice that might have been sweet if it wasn’t so intense. “You wouldn’t be the first.” Her eyes narrowed at him and then she beckoned him closer. Nervously , he took a few steps nearer. She was squinting at his forehead. “Poor boy,” she said, even more softly. Then, Ron burst back in with a handful of hastily picked flowers.

“For you, ma’am!” he sounded falsely cheerfully. “We also thought maybe we could, uh, walk your dog for you, if you’d like.” Professor Zephyr tilted her head to look at him like a snake might. Still grinning nervously, he tried to arrange the flowers in a basin to avoid her gaze.

“I wanted to ask you ...” Harry began, gaining courage now that her eyes were off him. “About the thing...”

“I’m sure North would love a romp,” she replied. Harry could’ve sworn he saw frost gathering around the room from the chill in her voice. The dog raised its head and its tail beat against the bedcover exactly once.

“Great!” Ron’s voice sounded strangely high. “C’mon, North! Puppy-wuppy!” He slapped his thigh and hurried off. The dog ‘whuffed’ and leapt after him. Harry started to back away, but she brought him up short again with a word. She raised a thin hand to brush some hair behind her ear and he saw a mark on her throat, shiny on her pale skin. He assumed it was a scar, but her bittersweet voice distracted him from any details.

“Don’t let North bully your friend,” she said. “And DON’T let him be noisy. “ Harry had been expecting something much more dire or at least mysterious, was taken aback. He nodded quickly and hurried out as politely as he could. He nearly ran headlong into Snape who had been reaching to open the door. The Potions Master sucked in his breath, if not in surprise, then in distaste. Too puzzled and unsettled to make anything of it, Harry muttered something vaguely apologetic and tore off towards where Ron was trying to avoid North’s affections at the end of the hall.

It seemed North WAS a friendly dog. When he stood on his hind legs, he was more than tall enough to look Ron in the eye and lick him until he was soaked. He bounced, pawing at the sputtering redhead, and barking. Harry grabbed him by the scruff and pulled him down, trying to shush him. He risked a peek over his shoulder at where Snape was looking at them. The loathing in his expression more than made up for his lack of red eyes. Ron was trying to wipe off his slimey face.

“What are we going to do with this monster?” he grouched, spitting out some white fur. Snape disappeared into the room with only the soft click of a door.

“Why did you offer to take it then?” Harry asked, just as grouchily. Meeting the Professor Zephyr had not put him at ease. He felt tense and shoved North off of him more roughly than he meant to. “Hagrid’s our monster expert. We’ll take him there and, ow! he can play with Fang. Come on, you slobbery-” Between the two of them, they managed to lure the hyperactive dog out onto the grounds. Hagrid was out in his garden, a garden hoe looking dainty in his big hands.

“Summat’s been at the rabbits...” he said woefully, as soon as the greetings were over. He nodded at the makeshift hutch on one side of the garden. He had started catching the rabbits who came to his garden live and using them to feed his midterm projects for the second year students. Harry had not seen the actual creatures, but he had noticed the second years had been looking a little twitchy.

“Well, here’s help for keeping out the foxes,” Ron shoved North away from his already well-licked ear with a grimace. Hagrid gave the white dog a pat, but didn’t seem cheered. He called Fang out to romp with North, and explained that there was way it could have been a fox as the hutch was undamaged.

“It’s like the door was opened and then locked back again,” the gamekeeper said. “And four of the little fuzzies drained as dry as last years jack o’ lanterns. “ He held up a sad little dead bunny by the ears. Harry saw a torn spot in the little creature's neck. That was when it hit him. He had never seen a real vampire before...but the ones in the movie Dudley had stayed up to watch on Friday nights had all looked pretty much the same. Very pale. Black clothing. Arrogant expressions. Glowing eyes.

He had wondered if the Professor Zephyr was human. Now he had reason to. He barely heard the rest of Hagrid’s talk and was finally herded back to lunch by Ron. He didn’t snap out of his thoughts until he felt another stare. Snape was at his usual seat, giving Harry a look that was hard to interpret. Come to think about it, he thought suddenly. Snape matches the vampire description too. That only made him wonder what the Potions Master had been doing in the infirmary anyway. Ron was looking at him too, only worriedly. He gave his friend what he meant to be a reassuring smile, but still had to eat with two sets of eyes on him. He hoped he could catch Hermione alone to talk to her about it. In the meantime, he concentrated on his potato and onion soup, and made plans.