Hi guys! This is the sequel for Of Demons and Girls with too Many Cats, so if you are new to my stuff you should probably read that one first or you'll have no idea what's going on since I hate canon and therefore do not make very many references to it. I update almost every day, with a few rare exceptions, so don't worry about updates. If its been a week or so without an update, check my profile for any vacation notices. Review with any feedback you want. Flame me and I'll block you.



On a plane of frozen land rests a castle, its turrets coated with green-brown ice, the wind making ethereal music as it whistles past the frosted windows. All around for miles on end was the deadly beauty of the Ice Queen, and her presence hushed the students of Durmstrang into respectful silence.

Or at least, it quieted most of the students. "JOHANN!" A young voice suddenly bellowed, the force of the sound waves shattering a good 4 inches of ice off of any surface within a four-mile radius.

"WHAT?!" Came the shouted answer. Headmaster Karkaroff cringed in his office as several large segments of ice unloaded themselves onto his cluttered desk. "I don't care how much their mother donates to the school, much more of this and I'll have a heart attack or worse…" He muttered, slumping further in his chair so that only the top of his head was visible above the desk. Seizing his cloak he pulled it down over his ears in a desperate attempt to block out the banes of his existence's latest high-volume squabble.

Allowing the Lestrange twins Georg and Johann to attend his school had been the biggest mistake of his life, and they had just turned 16 so he had a few years yet to endure before he could safely boot them out under the pretense of graduation. The second largest mistake had been letting their clearly equally insane parents become the sole financial support of the school, and his personal accounts as well. He would be doomed, and penniless, if he dared to even chastise her boys since they'd probably just tattle on him anyway. The shouting was getting closer, and he nearly started whimpering when he heard impetuous footsteps running down the hall to his door. Sliding off his chair and curling into a ball under his desk he reflected that he'd never been nearly this terrified of the Dark Lord in the pinnacle of his fury, and began to mourn how the times had changed. His door was thrown open, the doorknob smashing a hole in his wall with the force it had been flung against what he had once considered unshakable granite.

Two pairs of long legs came into view from his vantage point on the carpet, and he shuddered when he realized he was within kicking distance. His foot bumped a vase resting next to his desk, and a hollow chime came out of the jade.

"Ah-ha! Methinks, dear brother, that the headmaster be cowering beneath yonder desk like a dog in his vomit." Georg had adopted a poetic manner of speech, and Igor could see that he had struck some kind of pose.

"Lo, thou speakest truth, my lord! Only, this worm smells far fouler than any dog, with or without vomit."

"Spoken with the grace only honesty can create." Abruptly the tapestry draped over his desk was yanked off, revealing him in all of his glory.

"Johann, Georg." He reluctantly acknowledged. Identical grins that couldn't be found anywhere else on earth except maybe on a shark about to feed greeted him. He swallowed.


Seated on his trunk in the middle of the Muggle train station, Harry fidgeted nervously with his hands while waiting for his guardian to show up. He had already read everything in his book bag and really didn't feel like untying the enormous amount of twine on his trunk to get some more reading material. This left him with people watching.

The young woman struggling to keep her bratty toddler under control made him want to screech 'just spank the kid already!' but since most people considered corporeal punishment to be inhumane and abusive, he kept his mouth shut. She was purchasing a tabloid from the newspaper stand and he lost interest, eyes fastening on a group of Muggle schoolchildren about his age crowded around the windows of a small candy shop, chattering excitedly about what they wanted to buy before heading home. Smiling as he remembered his friends doing something similar when the food cart had come around, he picked absently at his nails. Feeling a sharp pang, he looked down and saw that he had accidentally torn one of his cuticles clear out and a few drops of blood were already surfacing. Sighing, he removed a bit of gauze from his bag after much digging (he really needed to find some way to organize himself) and tied it about his wounded ligament.

"Come on." He mumbled when he realized that he'd been sitting there doing nothing waiting for almost two hours. Just as he was getting up to go find something more interesting to occupy his time, a white blur came flying at him. Raising his hands to protect his face automatically, he didn't see what it was at first until soft fur brushed the underside of his chin lovingly. "A-Asmodeus?" He whispered, hesitantly lowering his hands, praying that he wasn't dreaming. His only reply was a throaty purr and more insistent stroking under his chin. Running his hands through the fur, he grinned as he re-familiarized himself with the feline lines of muscle that made up his boyfriend's body.

"Ah. I see your cat hasn't changed too much." Bronislav stated, coming out of nowhere. He smiled at Harry and maneuvered himself around the protectively hissing cat to kiss Harry's forehead affectionately. He was rewarded with a smile and an apology for his cat's behavior.

"The car is this way. Here, let me get your trunk. God knows those arms of your's would probably snap if you carried it."

"Hey!" Harry cried in mock-indignation, knowing that his guardian was probably right. He was officially beyond being upset about anything.


He knew there were words coming out of her mouth, and her hands were moving animatedly so it had to be important, but Albus just couldn't force himself to pay attention to Maggie's lies at the moment. What occupied his attention was how he could possibly get rid of her without Minerva castrating him, since she had taken quite a liking to the younger woman after he'd made the mistake of sending them on a mission together. Minerva had been on edge for months during some spat with Severus and had only recently lowered her blazing temper to a dull simmer. He had no desire to unleash her hormonal hurricane upon himself by removing someone she thought well of, but Maggie was slowing down his assassination of James Potter. He needed the man killed before he met his son, dammit! Sighing, he took a sip of his tea, grimaced, and added three extra sugars.

Tuning in to what she was saying, he realized she was detailing a summer vacation to Haiti she'd taken with her father at the age of seven. He suddenly felt the incredible urge to bash his head repeatedly on his desk, but managed to restrain himself.


End chapter 1

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