Hello everyone, to the latest chapter of The Bloody Ashikabi !
I apologize for the wait, as usual a combination of things made writing this a bit hard, and I'm still not perfectly satisfied with this chapter. I hope it'll still be up to your standards though.
WARNING: this chapter contains both graphic content and descriptions of attempted rape.
On a parting note, I would suggest to those of you who like the RWBYverse, or the God Eater verse, to check the A Resonance Between Worlds fic by Mailnuk32:
It's quite well written, and honestly I'm very interested in what Mailnuk has planned for it next.
Before the First Task
Dumbledore could only watch dumbly at the scene playing in the middle of the Great Hall, his jaw slack and his face white with shock and horror. Next to him, the other members of the staff had various reactions to the events, going from horrified for most of the teachers, to something resembling grim acceptance of what was unfolding for Snape. He himself was strangely numb, his brilliant mind unable to cope with what it had just witnessed. Yet worse than his own reaction was the fact that the Great Hall was packed full with people, mostly students, who had just witnessed the same events as him, their young minds forever stained with the sight of what had just occurred, despite all of his efforts to protect them from such sights.
As he finally found his voice and his body started to move, his thoughts flashed back to how everything had started…
-Two days earlier-
Dark Lord, child of Squib and Muggle Lord!
Past of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named: what you didn't know!
The Prophet following the Weighing of the Wands sold out almost immediately, the interviews of the Champions and details of the ceremony completely forgotten as Lord Voldemort's true roots were revealed to the British Wizardry World. Worse, the one to write the article was Rita Skeeter herself, the woman managing to confirm everything she had been told by Harry shockingly fast, though he suspected that she had barely slept to get the article written, since it was a scandal that would see her name made famous. The simple fact that the feared Lord Voldemort, "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named" as he was called in the newspaper, was basically a Muggleborn, was the news of the century. It had every Pureblood in the country clamoring in outrage, saying that everything printed was lies, but thanks to Harry, Rita was able to cite sources easily accessible to any wizard or witch curious enough to check by themselves.
The outcry was, as expected, massive, not just in Britain, but in the whole European continent. While Voldemort had always been very busy with Britain, given how the War had been going before he was vanquished by Harry Potter, he had already begun expanding his forces through several other countries, not to mention the recrudescence of murders and crimes committed in the climate of fear his presence had brought to the whole of Europe. As such, many European wizards knew who the Dark Lord Voldemort was, and many Pureblood families had supported the Pureblood dogma by citing the man as an example of everything a Pureblood should be, as the perfect "Pureblood" Lord. To learn that the man had been a child born from what was essentially rape, from a partially insane mother obsessed with his Muggle father, it had utterly crushed the arguments supporting the Pureblood dogma and discrimination. In fact, it had actually inversed the movement's tendency, working against those that defended the fact that Pureblood were superior. After all, Voldemort himself had been a Muggleborn, or about so, which meant that there was a very real possibility that Muggleborns were more powerful than Purebloods.
Evidently, the Purebloods, mainly those who came from families who supported the Pureblood dogma, reacted poorly. Some denied the facts outright, no matter how much proof they were shown that their Dark Lord had tricked them, but the majority seemed to believe what had been printed in the Prophet, likely due to their families investigating things privately. Unfortunately, their reaction was to lash out, violently, at anybody, for the barest reason. In the week following the article alone, the mediwitch of the castle had seen the number of people in her care multiplied by six, and given the tension in the air, things were unlikely to get better anytime soon. It was actually so bad that most younger years moved about in groups of five at the very least, since the older Slytherins had taken to harass the Muggleborns out of sight of the teachers.
Things were only made worse by the fact that the person who had leaked the information about Voldemort, Harry Minaka, was both the one to defeat the Dark Lord and someone even the most arrogant Purebloods would think twice before challenging. Even those who believed themselves superior to Muggleborns and saw them as little more than animals had enough sense to know that giving the teen an opportunity to hurt them was a bad idea. The demonstration from early in the year had shown that he was not to be trifled with, nor were his companions. As such, the Purebloods' anger, which could not be directed his way, focused on less dangerous targets: Muggleborns, Halfbloods, any target that represented what they hated and that they knew couldn't threaten them.
The fact that Ivy Potter was not only a Halfblood, a Potter, and a member of Slytherin, couldn't have painted a bigger target on her back, as she was about to discover…
Ivy Potter was terrified. Granted, she was used to being afraid, given her status, family, and House. She had always known that she was a prime target for the Pureblood bigots, and that only the fact that her father was a very influential Lord held the dumbest of the boys at bay. She had witnessed enough during her time in Slytherin to have a very clear idea of what could happen to her if she was ever caught at the wrong time and by the wrong people, and she had done her very best to avoid that kind of situation. So far she had avoided getting into trouble thanks to the fact that she made sure to not make waves, and that she was only twelve, and thus had yet to become an "interesting" enough target for the boys. Unfortunately for her, it seemed that not all boys cared about her age or lack of curves…
"Grab the Halfblood, boys, it's time to have some fun and remind her family where the real power is," sneered a seventh year.
Ivy was not a fool. She might be quite good with her wand, better than most fourth years, but she was alone and outnumbered. While she hated to admit it, she had been careless, taking a shortcut going through a rather abandoned part of the castle. Now that she thought back about it, it wasn't her usual route, which meant that someone had likely used a compulsion to have her go through there. It would certainly explain why the older boys had been able to ambush her so easily.
The leader was a boy she was well aware of. Lucian Bole was a seventh year well known for forcing himself on younger females in the house, using the fact that his family had a lot of contacts in the Ministry. While the Boles were no Malfoys, they could easily cause a lot of trouble if they wished so, which meant that they were among the Purebloods the current Minister made sure to keep happy. Lucian himself was rather well-connected in Slytherin, one of the reasons why he could do so much and get away with it. While no Ravenclaw, he was rather intelligent, and knew how to erase his tracks, which likely meant he already had something planned in case he was caught.
The other boys were all people who came from lesser families with ties to the Death Eaters, either by having a member in the ranks or by being passive supporters. As often in cases like this, they tended to scurry favors with someone coming from a more powerful family, and Lucian was one of the most influential seventh years in Slytherin. Besides, she had seen enough in her House to know that most boys coming from Dark families felt entitled to treat females as toys, barring the heiresses from respected Pureblood houses. And while she was far from being a woman yet, she had already begun puberty, which, with the genes coming from her mother, meant that she was quite cute even now. A shame the fact that she was her mother's daughter meant she was a prime target.
"You think you'll get away with this, Lucian?"
Her voice was wavering, even if she was doing her best to keep it level and cold, like most Pureblood heiresses. Showing any kind of weakness in the Snake Pit was a sure way to draw the wrong kind of people, and when backed against a wall like she currently was, it could make all the difference between becoming a victim or earning a favor.
While she tried to gain some time, her eyes darted around, analyzing the situation. Aside from Lucian, who was standing a few feet behind the other boys, there were six boys, forming a semi-circle of evilly grinning human faces clad in silver and green robes. They all had their wands out, so she couldn't hope to prevent them from drawing them, which meant she would have to find a way to disarm them, even if she had little hope to do that. Had it been fourth years, she might have had a chance, but seventh and sixth years Slytherin were always accomplished duelers, given the permanent conflict for the place of top dog in the House.
"What do you think, traitor? With everyone fussing about your brother, who is going to care about a Mudblood spawn? Besides, it's not like you'll live long enough to report anything either. I've been itching to try the Imperius on something a bit more challenging than a Muggle, and you'll do perfectly."
Her blood turned to ice at the smug look he gave her. She was well aware of what the Imperius entailed, what with her father having spent a lot of time complaining about the Death Eaters who went free by claiming to have been put under the influence of the curse. And she was also well aware that if she was put under the Imperius, Lucian would easily be able to order her to jump from the Astronomy tower after writing a suicide letter, which meant nobody would look any further. And with the fuss Harry was causing, it was likely that most people wouldn't care too much.
And that wasn't even mentioning what he could force her to do before deciding to kill her off.
"Yes, I like that look you have. But try to fight a bit, it's always so much fun breaking girls in until they can't resist anymore," grinned Lucian.
With a flick of his wand, her own jumped from her fingers and clattered uselessly to the ground, to her utter dismay. Had he grabbed it, she would have been able to use the charm she had put on it that would stun the person using her wand without her permission, something that would have kept him down while she used the element of surprise to fight off his stooges, but as it was she could do nothing.
It still didn't prevent her from snarling, clawing and biting at the older boys who dragged her inside a nearby abandoned classroom. All she got for her troubles was a slap that left her head lolling as the world spun, until she was thrown onto a desk, large, clammy hands grabbing her wrists and holding her arms pinned above her head. Her robes were ripped open, revealing the light blouse and skirt she wore underneath. Still, as she was held down, she struggled with all she had, kicking and snarling, until conjured ropes wrapped around her legs and kept them pried open, tied to the desk.
"You won't get away with this, Bole!" she snarled, the older boy laughing lightly at her threat.
"Really? You don't seem to understand your position, bitch. You're ours now, and before the day ends we're going to make sure to wipe that pride of yours off your face.
It's your fault this happens, you know. If you had been like the other Mudblood bitches and understood where the power was, maybe this wouldn't have happened. Then again, with your bitch of a mother snagging a Pureblood as a husband, I guess you thought you were better than them."
By then the other boys had stepped back, watching as Lucian walked around the bound form of Ivy, relishing in the fact that she was at his mercy. A wave of his wand saw her blouse ripped open, showing the pale skin of her stomach as well as the training bra she wore, Lucian's hands roughly groping her budding chest through the fabric as his wand trailed down her cheek. Her face burnt with shame and mortification at the groping, but her eyes still glared at the older boy with nothing but pure hatred.
"Mmmm…Too bad you aren't a bit bigger, but I guess you're a late bloomer. We'll have to make do with what you have. Now that we've checked the top, let's see the bottom!"
With a sickening grin, the Slytherin's wand trailed down from her chin to her stomach, then to her skirt, where a low powered cutting curse had it falling the ground, revealing Ivy's panties. By that point the twelve-years old witch was struggling not to cry, refusing to show her tormentors even a fraction of the terror and shame she was feeling. If she had thought that begging would have spared her the humiliation of rape and then the death she had been promised, she would have done so in a heartbeat, but she knew Lucian enough to know that he would simply use begging to torment her before going through with what he had planned nonetheless.
"Still glaring? Truly you're just as much of a bitch of your mother. Too bad she didn't get her just desserts at the World Cup, but I guess that we can't get everything. Now then, let's start…"
"DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE, LUCIAN! I'LL KILL YOU, YOU FUCKER!" roared Ivy, her magic whirling around her in a maelstrom of power that while impressive, was unfortunately useless in her situation.
"Feisty, aren't we? Scream all you want, whore, nobody ever comes in these parts of the castle. We could fuck you all day, and nobody would come to help you," taunted Lucian, the other boys chuckling behind him.
"Well then, enough fooling around," grinned the older boy, waving his wand and cutting off the last barrier between Ivy's innocence and her future defilement.
As Ivy roared once more, insulting the group of boys in front of her and trying her best to free herself, Lucian fumbled with his robes, freeing his manhood from its' confines and approaching Ivy slowly, his gait cocky and with the arrogance of the predator who had their prey at their mercy. Given his anticipation and his focus on the bound form of Ivy, he did not realize immediately that something was wrong, only stopping when his breath started to come out in clouds.
He did not have the time to move, as a wave of ice as massive as it was sudden encased the entire side of the room Lucian and his followers were in, freezing their bodies solid and only leaving their noses free while everything else was changed into an icicle. Shiny stalagmites and stalactites stretched everywhere, marking a very clear separation between the group of Slytherins and the side of the room Ivy was still bound.
Craning her head to look for the reason of the sudden drop in temperatures, Ivy could only stare as Akitsu, the woman who never left her brother's side, strolled inside the room as if having half a classroom drowned in ice was common occurrence to her, while waving her wand at her bound form.
As soon as she felt the ropes holding her against the desk disappear, Ivy curled onto herself, ready to defend herself if need be, but her worries were slightly abated by the fact that the gorgeous brunette was frowning heavily at the frozen Slytherins. She clutched her ruined robes close to her body, lamenting that her wand was still in the corridor, only for Akitsu to hand it to her.
"Ah…Are you alright?"
The tone of her voice was flat, as was apparently the norm for the brunette from what Ivy had been able to gather from her observations of her brother's group, however she could tell from the woman's posture and stare that she was concerned, which was all she needed to know, the last traces of wariness vanishing from her mind.
Before she could realize what she was doing, she was clutching the older woman in a death grip, her whole body trembling in shock as the realization that she had very nearly been raped finally became too much for her to bear. Tears fell down her cheeks as a wave of relief washed over her, her body collapsing against the brunette as her legs lost their strength, Ivy weeping in both relief that the worst hadn't happened, and violation at having her body treated like a toy by the older Slytherins.
She did not expect anything of Akitsu, she had seen the woman enough to know that she was pretty much apathetic towards anything that wasn't her brother, and as such it came as something of a shock when gentle arms circled her body and hugged her, offering warmth and comfort. The scent of freshly fallen snow washed away the persistent musk of Lucian that had plagued her nose as he molested her, and a slow heartbeat replaced the taunting that kept replaying in her mind. She was somewhat surprised when a hand started rubbing her head, but she relished in the attention as it took her mind from her current situation.
"I WANT THEM EXPELLED, AND SENT TO AZKABAN FOR THE NEXT CENTURY!" roared James, his fist hitting Dumbledore's desk and making most of the objects on it jump.
The Potter patriarch was livid. His daughter, whom he grudgingly would admit he was somewhat distant to, what with her being Sorted in Slytherin, had been currently clutching on Akitsu for dear life the last time he had seen her, having refused to separate from the woman even with both his and Lily's assurance that everything was alright. While his wife seemed pained that she would prefer the comfort of the foreign woman to their own, he took the opportunity to get the full story from the brunette, who explained, albeit concisely, what had happened.
From what he had gathered, Akitsu had been taking a stroll through the castle since Harry was busy training with Karasuba, and had told her to familiarize herself with the layout of the castle, when she had felt something directing her towards a specific area. When she had arrived in said area she had seen the wand left on the ground and heard Ivy screaming at her would-be rapists, and, having something of a loathing for that kind of people, frozen the group solid. The group was apparently still encased in ice, the House Elves apparently unable to unfreeze them, and the teachers being in no hurry to free them.
Once she had dealt with the Slytherin boys, Akitsu had apparently repaired Ivy's clothes and brought her to Harry, who upon hearing her story had contacted them. Obviously, hearing that their daughter had almost been raped because some Pureblood idiot felt like reaffirming his beliefs now that Voldemort was ousted as little more than a Muggleborn had infuriated the Potters, as such Lily had stayed to coax her daughter out of the busty brunette's grip, though so far with little success. When James had left, Poppy had just arrived, and had been fussing over Ivy while asking the House Elves for some specific potions.
"Now, James let us not be hasty," tried to amend Dumbledore, making James whirl around and stare at him with something akin to shock painted over his face.
"Hasty? HASTY?! They almost RAPED MY DAUGHTER, DUMBLEDORE!"
"Yes, James, that much was clear. Nonetheless, until we get their testimony we should not let the events get to our heads. Perhaps something was missed in the retelling of the events. You said yourself that your daughter was quite incoherent, it is possible that she misunderstood the situation."
"Akitsu was quite clear about what happened. I only asked Ivy to make sure that she wasn't exaggerating, and given how she reacted, I'd say that if anything, she understated how bad things were," growled the Potter head, pacing in front of the desk, "I don't care about your platitudes, Dumbledore. As soon as we get the full story, I'm bringing the DMLE into this. My daughter aside, if those boys felt they could rape a witch and get away with it, then clearly something is wrong in this school."
"James, I assure you, this will not be necessary. Assuming the situation was indeed a case of attempted rape, I can assure you that these students will be punished harshly. There is no need to condemn them to Azkaban for a hormonal mistake. All teenagers are somewhat rambunctious, yet we do not condemn them to prison," placated the headmaster, ignoring the look of growing disbelief from his former student.
"Am I hearing this right? Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, is telling me that an attempted rape will be punished by…what, detentions, points deducted, no Hogsmeade weekends till the end of the year? ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND, OLD MAN?!"
"DO NOT TAKE THAT TONE WITH ME, JAMES!" thundered the old wizard, his amiable face replaced with cold fury, his magic swirling around him in a visible aura, pressing down on the equally furious James Potter.
"They are children. They made a mistake, and will be punished accordingly. They will not be treated like criminals, not as long as I am headmaster of this school. I am sorry that this offends you, but that is final, James," firmly said Dumbledore, his ice blue eyes boring into James' hazel ones, the younger man staring back angrily.
"Fine then. I will be going to the DMLE then; we'll see how they feel about this. Maybe they at least will have some sense and do the right thing instead of giving rapists a slap on the wrist."
"You will do no such thing, James," growled Dumbledore, "I shan't have Aurors running around Hogwarts and disrupting classes to soothe your ego."
"My ego? This is not about my ego, it's about doing the right thing!" growled the Potter patriarch, before standing up, "I don't see why I even bothered to discuss this with you. But expect the DMLE and a complaint to the Board of Governors."
"James, if you do this, you will leave me with no other choice but to fire you and Lily. I will not have my teachers causing trouble in Hogwarts," pointed out Dumbledore, his eyes cold.
"Try it. Just try, and we'll be out of Hogwarts with our children. Then we'll see how well you can explain the reasons behind our leaving to the Wizenmagot. I do wonder how the Light families will see the fact that their leader willingly protected rapists," threatened James, before slamming the door as he left.
Dumbledore sagged in his chair, shaking his head sadly. Why couldn't people understand that he worked for the Greater Good of all? Sure, the Bole boy had almost raped Ivy Potter, that was a damn shame, but he came from a Dark family, sending him to Azkaban would only push him further into the Dark. If they simply punished the boy, he would come to understand that what he did was wrong, and then he could be led to the Light.
While he didn't like it, he was also forced to turn a blind eye to the Purebloods "having fun" with Muggles, since the children born from the women raped bolstered the dwindling population of English magicals. While not yet on the verge of extinction, their population was dangerously low, had been ever since the War, and any magical child was a boon they couldn't afford to ignore. If it took ignoring the Purebloods raping Muggle women, then so be it. It was also for that reason that he didn't want to see the Bole boy sent to Azkaban. It would send the wrong message to the Purebloods, and deprive the world of a vigorous boy who could do much good if properly guided.
Alas, few people could understand his reasoning.
Harry's eye twitched. When he had told Akitsu to familiarize herself with the layout of the castle, it was with the full confidence that aside from drawing the eyes of every straight male in the castle, nothing would happen to her. He was quite certain that the Ice Sekirei could deal with a few persistent admirers, as she had done so for mundanes more than once by freezing their underwear when they annoyed her enough. He had quite certainly not expected her to save Ivy Potter from a group of Purebloods attempting to rape her, nor did he expect for his biological sister to refuse to spend the night in the Infirmary and prefer to spend it with Akitsu.
It had taken much screaming, coaxing and pleading before Harry had kicked out Lily Potter, the redhead having apparently believed that treating her daughter like a five years old would help her. Given that he knew from Hermione that neither of the Potter parents had been especially close to their daughter after the girl's Sorting in Slytherin, he had felt quite justified kicking the annoying woman out, after telling her that Ivy was spending the night with them. Granted, he had not really thought it through, but anything was better than having his birth mother trying to coax Ivy to come with her to the Infirmary. And with the way the girl had been clinging to Akitsu, and the way the Ice Sekirei had been strangely protective of her, it would have taken ages before they got anywhere, so he had solved the problem in the fastest way possible. He fully expected the Potters to bitch about it later, but frankly he was not in the mood to deal with their shit.
At the moment he was busy reading, one of the rare things he enjoyed doing outside of his training with Karasuba, the Black Sekirei doing the same while using his lap as a pillow. She might be a vicious, psychotic murderer, she also enjoyed a good read every now and then. Though he suspected the reason she enjoyed the Warhammer 40k universe so much was because she was basically fangirling over the Chaos Space Marines, their methods, and the Chaos Gods. He suspected that the addition to her room she had requested back home was to make a shrine to Khorne, and he fully expected her to start, at one point or another, to start screaming Blood for the Blood God before a slaughter.
While they were reading, Akitsu, Homura and Ivy were sitting in a sofa the Room had created, the Fire Sekirei and his biological sister (although that was debatable now that he was half-alien) speaking in hushed voices, while the Ice Sekirei held the girl to her chest and petted her hair, smiling contentedly. What vague feelings he could sense through their bond without turning his full attention to it were quite motherly, though he picked up a bit of wistfulness as well. He guessed that the brunette enjoyed the girl's presence, and treated her much like one would their own children.
He blinked, lifting his eyes from the book on advanced physics he had been reading, and finding Ivy to have, at one point or another, approached him, Akitsu looming behind the girl much like she did with him.
"Speak clearly or don't bother," he groaned. Quite frankly, those who tiptoed around an issue because they were afraid of other people's reactions tended to piss him off, after all it wasn't as if delaying saying something would make it any less true.
Ivy flinched at his harsh tone, however a push from Akitsu had her steeling herself, before blurting out:
"Can you tell me about yourself?!"
At any other time, he would have sent the person asking such to the hospital, as he loathed nosy people, however, in Ivy's case, things were a bit different. While they weren't close, nor anywhere near comfortable around each other, the girl had been trained by Hermione, and Akitsu had saved her from being raped. He didn't give much of a shit about pretty much anyone that wasn't his Sekirei or someone in the short list of people he could call family or friends, but he did sympathize with the girl. After all, given how the Dursleys had been, if he had been born a girl, he would very likely could have added sexual abused to the already impressive list of things he had lived through in the "care" of his so-called relatives.
"Get your ass over here, and don't interrupt me," he grunted, "If you want to hear about myself I won't have you pestering me with questions every five seconds. Am I clear?"
The twelve-years old nodded quickly, her eyes wide.
He was a bit surprised himself that he even considered telling her part of his past (as he wasn't about to tell anyone about his Sekirei, his mistake when Minaka had needled him had been enough, thank you very much), but to be honest it kinda pissed him off to know that not only had the Potters mucked up his childhood, but that they had been in the process of more or less ignoring another of their children just because they were prejudiced against the House she was Sorted in. And perhaps that way Dumbledore would stop pestering him about getting to know his family. If he had to endure a Potter's presence, it was certainly not going to be his biological parents'.
Ivy ended up spending the night with them in the Room of Requirement, sleeping in a room separate from their own of course. She had taken some Dreamless sleep potion, as while Harry was tentatively more accepting than what she expected, she didn't think waking him up with screaming after a nightmare would endear her to him. And frankly, she was pretty certain that she would have had nightmares if not for the potion. After all, she was still very much in shock over the fact that she had very nearly been raped, and given the way wizards and witches tended to deal with trauma, she would be for a long time. Perhaps she could ask Harry for help, or at least pointers? After all, she did not want to spend the next twenty years carrying the trauma, and she wasn't exactly fan of the "Obliviate it" approach of the Healers in those kind of cases.
As she emerged from her sleep, she still had to wrap her mind about the fact that her brother was in a relationship with three women, even if Homura seemed quite less inclined to get intimate with him compared to Akitsu or Karasuba. It boggled her mind to know that two grown women had accepted to share a fourteen years old, even if Harry could hardly be called normal. Then again, she was beginning to wonder if everyone wasn't wrong in their assessment of her brother. Everyone seemed to assume he was just a powerful fourteen-years old showing off his skills, status, and overall power, but from what she had seen so far, that was far, far from the truth. Her brother didn't act like a fourteen-years old, but rather how she imagined a war veteran would. The fact that he and the three women he was with were dead ringers for the Hitwizards who had killed off the Death Eaters during the World Cup wasn't lost on her, though she guessed that given the average intellect of the wizards and witches of Hogwarts, she was one of the few who noticed.
Still, that would mean that her brother was a murderer, a killer. Not that it changed anything to her, it wasn't like the people he killed deserved to live anyway. She had seen enough in Slytherin's dorms to know that pretty much every Pureblood was a piece of trash, those few who were decent being the exception rather than the norm. Then again, Blood Purity was, or rather, had been, a big thing in the British Dark families, though now with the fact that Voldemort had been revealed to be little more than a Muggleborn things were far less defined. She was quite sure that more than a few families would still support the Pureblood dogma, simply because to them the idea that Muggles and Muggleborns were anything more than animals was alien to their minds, while a few other, more reasonable families, might change their minds.
Shaking her head, she steeled her resolve. Hermione might have taught her how to defend herself, it was clearly not enough, not now that she was likely to become a target, and to be honest, she admired her brother for his strength. She hoped that she could ask him, or Akitsu or even Homura to teach her more. She didn't care that she'd likely be puking her lungs out if they ever agreed to train her, she couldn't bear the thought of being weak anymore. The feeling of moist, smelly fingers touching her was ingrained in her memory, and she refused to ever allow herself to be touched like that again without her consent. If she had to castrate or even kill those who tried to use her like that, then so be it.
It was after a breakfast brought to them by the House Elves that things soured. Ivy had been quietly talking to Homura, their group expecting Lily Potter and Poppy Pomfrey to come barging in at any moment, when an owl swiped in by the single window the Room provided, landing next to Akitsu.
The Ice Sekirei took the letter it had tied to its leg, though not before casting a few charms to make sure that the mail wasn't cursed. It wouldn't have been the first time any of them had received cursed mail, and it would be a bit stupid to die or be seriously injured by something as simple as a cursed letter. That was the kind of stupidity they expected of British wizards, not themselves. They were thus rather surprised when the charms came back clean. After all, the only people they could expect to send them letters would send them to Harry, not to the most anti-social of his Sekirei.
"What is it about, Akitsu?"
The Great Hall was abuzz with discussions, many of the students sending suspicious or, in the case of most females, scathing looks to the Slytherin table, where most of the silver and green robed teenagers were quite subdued. Given that it had been made public that one of their own had tried to rape the twelve-years old daughter of a high-ranking and respected Lord, their House's reputation had dropped even further down. Of course, most of their House's inner workings were still unknown to the public at large, otherwise things would have been much worse, but nonetheless they were clever enough to realize that now wasn't the time to draw undue attention to themselves.
The only one among the Slytherins who didn't seem to care about the looks sent their way was Lucian Bole himself, who was forced to eat at the edge of the table with his accomplices, since their actions made public had all but ensured that none of the other students wanted to be seen associating with them. Yet he didn't seem to particularly mind, even if he was still quite angry that the little Potter slut had babbled. But in the end, it mattered little to him, as he had found a fitting way to still get his revenge on the one who had defeated the Dark Lord and dragged his name through the mud.
He had been curious about the women accompanying the oldest Potter child from the start, as they were undoubtedly beautiful, which had made him want them, or at least the two that seemed somewhat sane. He didn't think the grey-haired one would make for a good concubine, she seemed too wild and sadistic to be controllable. He didn't need a Bellatrix Lestrange in his family. The other two, though… The busty brunette would only need minor adjustments, as she clearly knew her place and how to behave as a Pureblood Lady, but the second one would need to learn to wear proper clothing instead of dressing up as a male.
He had been overjoyed to learn through his father's contacts that the women seemed to not have a last name, which meant that they were open game for any Pureblood daring enough to take the Boy-Who-Lived's women. It had been too risky at first, but with how Akitsu had interrupted him when he was about to break in the Potter girl, he had decided that it was high time to take her from the boy. She was clearly a diamond in the rough, with power in spades and the perfect attitude for a mistress or a concubine, and tying her to him would get him an asset that Potter would sorely miss.
It wasn't even that hard to get her. All that was needed was the good plan, the proper execution, and he would have a gorgeous brunette all but ready to become his. As such, as soon as he had been free from the lecture of his Head of House, he had gone to the Owlery to send a letter to his father. If anyone knew the best way to trap a woman in a contract, it was his father.
A commotion at the entrance of the Hall got his attention, and he turned to see the Boy-Who-Lived and his three women (well two, one of them was his now), strolling towards him. He was a bit surprised to realize that the Potter brat didn't seem angry, given his explosions earlier in the year he hadn't appeared to be someone in control of his emotions. In fact, despite an impressively neutral face, he got the impression that he was amused rather than angry, but that made no sense. In the same fashion as him, the grey-haired woman who reminded him of Bellatrix seemed to be amused, and he felt a shiver go down his spine at the sadistic and eager smile she had on her face. The one who wore man's clothing seemed incensed, but surprisingly the one who caught his attention was Akitsu herself.
He had rarely seen her show emotion, in fact he wasn't sure she could show emotion, something that any Pureblood looked for in their women as females who could act as proper Ladies without showing the slightest hint of what the felt were rather rare. As such, he had not expected the brunette to glare at him with nothing but pure disgust and hatred.
"So, you're Bole," commented Harry as he stopped a few feet from the Slytherin table.
By then all conversations had died down in the Great Hall, everyone listening raptly, knowing that whenever the group stepped in the Hall, things were going to be interesting. Many also likely expected him to get revenge for the attempted rape of his sister, though Lucian knew better. From what he had seen, Harry didn't care at all about anyone that wasn't the women with him or his precious little student Granger.
"What can I do for you?" he asked.
He was no fool. The timing was too perfect to stem from anything but the letter his father had told him would be sent to Akitsu.
"Well, you see, I was a bit curious. From what I've seen, most of you British wizards are cowards who hide behind their families' names to get what they want. To hear that someone who just got caught trying to rape the twelve-years old child of the Lord of an Ancient House had the balls to try and trap my Akitsu with a mistress contract right afterwards, well I was a bit impressed. I admit I expected it to be the actions of someone too stupid to know better, but maybe you have the balls to pull it off. Though so far I'm rather inclined to believe the stupid option."
Something was wrong. Ignoring the outraged whispers coming from all around the Hall, his mind focused on the boy's words, his attitude and the way he held himself. He was far too calm, that much was obvious. Anyone with eyes knew that threatening any of the three women by his side would draw his immediate ire, and only the fact that he would have been protected by the terms of the contract had made him go through with the idea.
"And? Unless I am wrong, Akitsu should be my mistress now."
"Yes, yes. Quite the clever little stratagem you used. A magical binding contract with an extremely underpowered curse on it that will escape diagnostic charms and cut the person, therefore spilling their blood on the contract and activating it. And once Akitsu was bound to you there would have been nothing that I'd be able to do to contest it.
A brilliant little thing, that. Your family must have relied on it quite a bit. I mean, who wouldn't? An insta-slave sounds too much like something you inbred morons would enjoy.
BUT, I'm afraid that you fucked up quite a bit by sending something like this to Akitsu. See, she's mine, not yours. And I take offense when people try to take things from me, especially when its' one of the very few people I actually give a shit about. So, yeah, I'm afraid I'm going to have to kill you for that."
Gasps and exclamations of disbelief erupted through the Great Hall, the people present unable to believe that Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, widely regarded as one of the foremost Light wizards of the era, casually admitted to planned murder. Lucian himself had trouble believing it, though he was a bit less shocked and more afraid for his life now. Sure, he was confident in his skills and the protection of the law, but Potter had a reputation that he could play on to sway the public to his side. The only thing that protected him somewhat now was the fact that he was the heir of the Bole family, and none of the bureaucrats in the Ministry would allow for his death to pass.
"What is going on here? Mister Minaka, explain yourself!" scowled Dumbledore, entering the Hall along with the Potters on his tail, neither of the three looking happy.
"Do stay quiet, Dumb. I am here to do what you don't have the balls to do, since apparently attempted rape isn't something you care about. There is irrefutable proof that this boy tried to rape Ivy Potter, and yet he is allowed to roam freely within the school. I might have been shocked if it hadn't become obvious you're going senile. You've fucked up so many times now I wonder how people can still think you can even do something right, but then again I'm not particularly impressed with the average IQ of British Wizards.
Anyway, after you conveniently decided to let mister Bole here go after yesterday, he apparently decided that if he couldn't rape a twelve-years old then he had to get revenge on the one who stopped him, which happens to be Akitsu. I'm pretty sure that the fact she's a walking wet dream to any hot-blooded male that isn't completely asexual or gay has something to do with it too. About twenty minutes ago, she received a cleverly wrapped little letter, charmed to slice one of her fingers open, just enough to have a few drops of blood fall on the parchment of the letter, which happened to be a binding mistress contract."
The Potters' heads whipped to glare at Lucian, who was beginning to feel quite uncomfortable. He didn't care much about the Potters, or Dumbledore, since neither of them would have what it took to do more than fine him heavily, something he didn't care much about. However, the Boy-Who-Lived seemed entirely too unconcerned, and it worried him. Had anyone else talked about murdering him he would've either dismissed it as empty threats or taken steps to remove them before they could put their threat to execution, unfortunately he could do neither when it came to the Boy-Who-Lived.
"So, being the upstanding citizen that I am, I am here to remove this shitstain from the collective gene pool before it can reproduce and spread. You know what they say: cut the problem at the root and all that."
Dumbledore's eyes hardened as he drew himself up, his magical aura flaring around him. Lucian was actually impressed. Most of the time the Headmaster acted as a genial, if somewhat senile, old man, and it was hard to imagine the Dark Lord being afraid of him. Now though, he could believe those who claimed such, as the old wizard's aura was massive, dwarfing anything he had felt in his life.
"I hope that you are not talking about murder, my boy. As Headmaster, I cannot allow you to harm a student within these walls."
"You do realize that you are being a hypocrite, right? This guy tried to rape a younger girl and he goes off scott free, while I'm not allowed to kill him? You do know that you're going to lose a lot of support for something like this?" commented Harry, his voice flat.
"Support can be gotten back in time. Lives lost, however, are forever lost. Now stand down my boy, there is no need for violence," frowned the Headmaster, only for the teenager to ignore him.
"Right, so since Dumb here is dead set on protecting you, I suppose I just have to invoke my rights as the Head of the Peverell House to invoke a Blood Duel against Lucian Bole, his father, and any in his family who would support enslaving a girl through a contract. By the way, Lucian, the contract is void. Akitsu is legally my wife, recognized both through legal and magical means. Your contract failed the moment it tried to bind her."
Gasps of shock echoed through the Great Hall, as Lucian paled, his face taking the color of expired milk. Blood Duels were a very rare subset of duels recognized by the Ministry of Magic. Due to the importance accorded to the perpetuation to bloodlines, Blood Feuds, which were declared by a Head of House and could only finish once all direct members of one of the Houses involved had been killed or had died, were avoided at all costs. The way to avoid them had been the Blood Duels: instead of killing off everyone in the family, it involved only specific people, such as those supporting a slight to another family. That way, there was always at least a member of the family left to carry on the name.
"Harry, my boy, I must insist-"
"Terms are as follows: tomorrow, in the Great Hall, any male of your pathetic family who thought it was alright to try and enslave Akitsu through a contract will duel against Akitsu, and, if you manage to defeat her, me. The only acceptable issue will be the death. So mote it be."
As a flash of light signaled that Magic had registered the conditions of the duel, an angry Dumbledore stomped towards an unapologetic Boy-Who-Lived, his hand moving to grab the teenager's, only to have it blocked by a sword.
"T-t-t," tittered Karasuba, grinning, "no touching Harry-chan, that's our prerogative, mister pedophile."
"Miss Karasuba!" scowled McGonnagal, holding her robes up as she strolled up to their group, "How dare you insinuate-"
"Insinuate that your boss has an unhealthy interest in a teenager? That's because I'm not insinuating that, pussy. Why else would he be so damn set on controlling Harry-chan's life, mmm? It's not like he's straight either, and with his previous lover locked up in Nurmengard…It's understandable he'd have needs."
At that point, Voldemort himself could have strolled into the Great Hall, declared his love for all things Muggle in song while also dressed in a garish pink tutu, nobody would have noticed it. All eyes were on the scowling Headmaster of Hogwarts. While delivered quite bluntly, those words did a lot to explain why Albus Dumbledore, the Leader of the Light, was still single and had no known lovers. In Wizardry culture, someone as powerful as he was, was quite the catch, and many witches had tried to seduce him in his younger days, only to be left severely disappointed when they were politely turned down. Now if he was gay, then it explained quite well why the man had apparently no desire to bed the many women who had offered themselves to him.
It was also yet another blow to the man's reputation, as homosexuality was still widely reviled by European wizards. After all, if an Heir or Heiress was gay, how were they to produce viable heirs themselves? While magic thankfully solved that problem, reproduction was the one area where Wizards wanted things to be "natural". Therefore, those who were unlucky to "bat for the other team" learnt quickly to hide that fact, either by "dating" a few members of the opposite gender, or by making it seem as if they had no interest in sex save for the perpetuation of their lines.
And Albus Dumbledore, was gay.
Only a few noticed the mention of the man's previous lover, coupled with the name of the infamous prison, Nurmengard, created by Grindelwald to imprison those who opposed him. Those few who did though, made sure to make a note to inform their families, as that kind of knowledge was worth its weight in gold. It could very well be the final nail in Dumbledore's coffin if it became known that Dumbledore had loved a male criminal, and only the worse European Wizards got sent to Nurmengard.
"Mister Minaka, my office," ground out Dumbledore, only for Harry to completely ignore the man, "Mister Minaka!"
"What are you going to do, Dumbledore?" sighed Harry, mismatched eyes meeting icy blue, "You don't seem to understand your position here."
"My position? Mister Minaka, I am the Headmaster, and I-"
"And? I am not a student here. The only reason I am even bothering to stay here is because quite frankly, I see no reason to waste my gold to find accommodations when it was your repeated fuck-ups that allowed things to get to this point. Face it, Dumbledore, you're no longer the one in charge. You aren't Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot anymore, you aren't Supreme Mugwump of the ICW either. You are Headmaster, which means your only attribution is to make sure this school runs smoothly, not plot in your corner for your "Greater Good", something that so far you have also failed at, spectacularly at that. Unless you count students trying to rape one of your charges as successful education.
You don't have any power over me, or over anyone who isn't a student. Some might be too blind to realize that Dumbledore, the great wizard is dead, and that he's been replaced with a senile control freak getting on his years, but I sure as Hell didn't. Now, kindly stop acting like a goddamn idiot, and start doing your fucking job, starting with actually punishing the would-be rapists you allowed to act with impunity in these very walls!"
By the time he was finished, Harry was staring Dumbledore down only inches away from the old man's face, his own aura flaring and pushing the old man's back as if it wasn't even there. The aged wizard was clearly displeased with the open challenge in the teenager's eyes, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips set in a straight line.
"And if it displeases you that I revealed things about your past, then perhaps you should not have failed so many times to do the morally correct thing instead of plotting your "Greater Good" crap for me. I am not your pawn, and I am quite certain that the students with actual brains in this room will agree with me that they aren't either.
Now excuse me, I'll be training with Akitsu to make sure that she isn't rusty for tomorrow."
The group of four ignored the headmaster as he tried to object, strolling out of the room without a backwards glance for the fuming Dumbledore, irate McGonnagal, and incensed Potters who were glaring at the two older magic users.
Lucian only stayed seated long enough to be sure he would not accidentally stumble upon the group if he left, before darting for the Owlery. He had to inform his father!
As expected, the news that Harry Potter was the Lord of House Peverell was made public within the hour, leading to an uproar amongst the older families, since the House had been thought to have died out a couple of centuries earlier. Many were wondering why Harry was the Lord of the House, since technically James Potter, his father, should have been the one to have that prerogative, being his father. Lily Potter was not the one who had carried that line of family, that much was obvious, what with her being Muggleborn and all. Even James himself was floored to learn that his eldest son was the Lord of a House at fourteen, never mind the fact that by all rights he should be the Lord.
But more so than his status, it was the fact that he had asked for a Blood Duel with the Head of the Bole family and his heir that had made the news. Blood Duels were very rare, public ones even more so. The fact that it was over a scheme that most families, be they Light or Dark moderate, found disgusting, was also a factor in the interest shown over the idea. After all, while most Heads of Houses showed open distaste for such schemes, involving tricking others into a binding magical contract, few would openly ask for a show of force, preferring to "duke it out" in the political arena. Then again, Harry was quickly forging himself a reputation as someone who disliked using proxies to deal with things, much preferring to use brute force instead.
Harry himself was not happy with the fact that barely two hours after he'd made the challenge, not only Dumbledore, but McGonnagal, the Potters, and even the Minister had tried to convince him to forfeit the duel. Though out of all of them, he could tell that only the Potters were concerned about him, Dumbledore and his pet being more worried about saving the lives of the Purebloods, while Fudge was only concerned with his reputation. It had been quite satisfying to tell them that Magic having accepted the challenge, he had no choice but to compete. He had even allowed himself a crack at Dumbledore by adding that at least this time he had agreed to participate.
The old wizard had not been amused.
Speaking of the headmaster, the man was busy trying to run damage control now that the fact he was gay had been made public, many of the traditional Pureblood families calling for his removal from the school in fear that he might "infect" their children with his homosexuality (it showed just how much they understood things). Though a few had yet to send letters or Howlers, but those families had members that had paid close attention to his words, so Harry was pretty sure that they were already digging into the man's "mysterious" lover locked up in Nurmengard. He wondered how the public would react knowing that the Dark Lord he had defeated had been said previous lover, and that Dumbledore had only stepped in to reign in Grindelwald because he had been pressured to do so. If that had not been the case, Harry was willing to bet the hypocrite would have looked the other way while said Dark Lord committed unspeakable atrocities on innocent people.
Granted, given the number of time he had ended up dismembering, torturing, or maiming people, he wasn't exactly in a position to criticize. Though it wasn't like the people he dismembered were innocent.
Still, he mused, at least the duel would prove as a nice distraction while he waited for the First Task.
The day of the duel, the Great Hall was full. Literally full with students, reporters, officials from the Ministry (with Fudge and Umbridge themselves among the delegation, the former sweating profusely at the bad publicity, while the latter kept sneering at Harry and his group, likely still remembering his scathing comments from their last meeting), and even some parents having come to watch the duel between the Lord of Peverell and the Lord of Bole. Due to the mass of people present, the area of the duel had been isolated by barriers created by the staff, reinforced to resist any spell thrown at them (though Harry was pretty sure that if he bothered to push some actual power in his, they would shatter the barriers like glass, that was how pathetically weak British wizards were).
Harry had also discovered for the occasion that he appeared to have something of a fan-club among the female students of Hogwarts, something that displeased him greatly as most of his "fans" seemed far too star-struck to see him and not the heroic figure of the Boy-Who-Lived. The few comments he had heard from them about being added to his Harem being more than enough to see that the teenage girls had absolutely no idea of who he was, what he liked, or even what he was like. He idly wondered how they would react if they knew the truth: that he was damaged beyond repair and that only his Sekirei helped him stay somewhat sane. He didn't think that the knowledge that he enjoyed maiming and killing people would go through well with them, though he highly doubted they'd ever be anything more than an annoyance. He always checked his food for potions, the same with his Sekirei, and he quite doubted that any of them could force him to do anything he didn't want.
Cracking his neck and ignoring the swooning fangirls trying to get his attention, he chose to examine his opponents instead. Lucian Bole, the one who had clearly been mentioned in the contract, was hardly a challenge, no matter how skilled or powerful he was for a seventh year. However, given the fact that he was likely a Death Eater supporter, they'd have to avoid being hit by any of the spells used, since he highly doubted that the boy would care about using Dark curses against them if he thought it would allow him to win and live. Though granted, he likely knew more Dark curses than them, since he'd fought a lot of Dark wizards and Lords over the years, which had allowed him to compile an extensive library of powerful spells that were likely more powerful than most of what the British knew. At least Asian Dark wizards researched beyond their own country when it came to the spells they used.
Next to Lucian was his father, and just like his son, the man was an obvious Pureblood fanatic. The way he had strutted in the Great Hall, clad from head to toe in robes that likely cost more than most of the people present made in a year, it was obvious that the older wizard had a seriously inflated ego, though from what he had heard from his contacts in the Goblin Nation, at the very least he had some reason to act so conceited. Unlike most Purebloods who were happy simply rubbing their status in people's faces, Caius Bole worked to further his status, using bribes, threats, blackmail, and a myriad other tools that in mundane society would have seen him imprisoned for life. Though how well that translated to fighting prowess, he had no idea, though he had serious doubt the man would be much of a threat. People like him tended to gloat the moment they thought they had won, and given that most of the time that barely signaled the start of when he started to fight, it was likely the duel wouldn't last too long, unless Akitsu decided to prolong it to rub in the face of the little shit that she was a much bigger fish than what they seemed to think.
"Ahem," simpered the overly sweet voice of Umbridge, making Harry's eyebrow twitch. Seriously, who had thought that giving the position of commentator to the most bigoted thing in the room was a good idea?!
"We are here today to witness the Blood Duel between Lord Caius Abraxas Bole and his Heir, Lucian Caius Ignotus Bole, against Lord", there was little mistaking the contempt in her voice as she spoke his title, "Harry James Minaka-Peverell, and his wife, Akitsu Peverell."
As she finished, countless wails of young witches could be heard, many lamenting that a "foreign hussy", "scantily clad woman", "chink whore", and several other names that had his blood boil, had "tricked" him and "seduced" him. Sometimes he was glad that he had been raised outside of England, as he had absolutely no wish to become as stupid as them. He was beginning to wonder if there was something in the air that stunted the mental growth of British wizards, as clearly their mundane counterparts were normal, but he guessed it was just the lack of proper education available to them.
"The referee will be Professor and Duelling Master Filius Flitwick," sneered Umbridge, casting a disgusted glance to the diminutive Charms teacher, who waved cheerfully at his students.
"Thank you, Madam. Now, if the duelists could step forwards…"
"Oh, it is nothing," simpered the pink-clad witch, her voice so sickly sweet that Harry had to refrain from marching over to her and decking her in the face, "I just thought that perhaps it would be wise to allow the duelists some last words before the duel."
"Very well," nodded Flitwick, "Do the duelers have anything to say?"
"Get on with it, Flitwick!" growled Caius, "I have a boy to kill and a woman to win! We don't have time for those trivialities! Trying to stall for time is useless, Magic itself has agreed to this duel! It will take place!"
"Duly noted," frowned the half-Goblin, before turning to Harry and Akitsu, "And for your side, Lord Peverell?"
"Well I'd say a few things, but I wouldn't want the inbred windbag to have a heart attack before our duel, so I respectfully decline. Thank you," smiled Harry, grinning as he watched a vein throbbing on Caius's forehead.
"Very well, then. Due to the nature of this duel, all spells are allowed, save for the Unforgivables. Use of any Unforgivable will see the Duel automatically awarded to your opponent, with your life at their mercy. I will remind the participants that this is a duel to the death, and that they may still back out now, with the price being a fine of five thousand Galleons and the annulation of the contract should you be the one to forfeit, Lord Bole."
A huff told everyone just how the Pureblood felt about the idea of forfeiting. Then again, from his point of view, he had little reason to be afraid, as his opponents were a boy and a woman, both of which were likely lower than dirt in his view of the world. At least it seemed that Lucian was a bit more nervous, most likely because he had been there when they had demonstrated their skills, and had at least a vague idea of just how outclassed he and his father were.
"Duelists, take your positions!" barked Flitwick, the cheery teacher leaving place to the Dueling Master.
As they did so, Harry observed the Boles' positions. Caius had taken an aggressive stance, one that left surprisingly little openings, at least against a conventional opponent. He had clearly had to defend himself more than once, and given his worldviews, Harry highly doubted it had been from Death Eaters. Lucian, for his part, had taken a more defensive position, ready to cast a shield at a moment's notice. Evidently, the boy still remembered how Akitsu had created ice with laughable ease, and was preparing himself to defend against it. Though it made very little different in the long run.
"Lord Peverell, your position, please," dryly remarked the referee, only for him to shrug and keep his hands in his pockets.
"Leave the boy, clearly he's too stupid to understand what he's gotten into. Now start this duel!" growled Caius.
With a frown from the half-Goblin, the Duel was started, Caius immediately casting a Disemboweling Curse at Harry, who didn't make a move to defend himself, which had the public, or at least those concerned for his safety, shouting and screaming at him to dodge…until the curse struck a foot-large wall of ice that had sprung out of nowhere.
"Thank you, Akitsu," he nodded, before turning back to watch the Boles.
Earlier, when they had been training for the duel, Akitsu had requested that he did nothing to the Boles, which had all three of them, Harry, Karasuba, and Homura, looking questioningly at her. That had lasted until they realized that for the first time in a very long while, the Ice Sekirei was nearly apoplectic with rage, even if it didn't show on her face. A normal Sekirei was already incredibly attached to their Ashikabi, quite understandable since their bond was essentially a bonding of their very souls, but Akitsu, given her special circumstances, was a thousand times more protective of Harry and her place at his side after everything he had done for her.
The Boles had no idea just what they had done when they had tried to enslave her.
Akitsu was not a complicated person. Her world, her entire existence, everything revolved around Harry-sama. She rose with him and went to sleep with him. She trained with him, bettered herself for him, accomplished what she needed to, to further his goals. She was aware that many would have considered it extreme, likely even unhealthy for her to center her entire existence around a single person, to base everything she was and would be on the whims on someone who could turn on her.
Those people were fools.
Harry-sama was her God, the Light of her existence, and she knew him better than he knew himself. She knew that buried deep, deep beneath the tough and ruthless exterior he had built, beneath everything he had done to make himself strong, beneath many, many layers of his soul, her Ashikabi feared solitude above everything. No matter what he did, no matter how much he had changed, in the end, the Dursleys had left him with a deep rooted fear of being alone, of being forced to watch the world go on without anyone to connect him to it. It was what made her seethe that they were dead, as she couldn't punish them, couldn't exact her vengeance against them.
She knew that even if he knew that there was no reason for his Sekirei to leave him, no reason to fear them dying, not when they were so much stronger than most beings on the planet and kept training to become even stronger, that they were downright paranoid in checking everything they received to avoid a potentially nasty curse, he still feared that one day he would wake up and they would be gone. She knew that it was his most well-hidden secret, a secret he kept even from his other Sekirei, but she knew.
And a pathetic, inbred British wizard had tried to trick her and take her away from her Ashikabi.
He would die.
A wave of her wand had the pathetic magic users' wands crumbling to pieces, frozen solid and shattered with ease. Another had them frozen to their spots, their legs frozen up to their knees in her ice, leaving only the tip of their boots free.
The older one, the one who had created the contract they had hoped to bind her with, growled invectives, demanding she free him, that she bow to his superiority as a Pureblood.
She made sure to silence his words, pikes of ice piercing his feet and drawing a howl of pain from the pig. With a lazy flick of her wand, she parried a curse from the younger one, the one she would have been contracted to, and retaliated with spikes of ice appearing behind him, launching themselves forwards and piercing his legs below his knees. She also made sure to freeze the wand the boy had likely hidden on his person to cheat the one-wand per person rule.
She was vaguely aware of screams coming from the public at the sight of the blood, but she did not care. She had never been the most violent or bloodthirsty of her Ashikabi's Sekirei, content with staying by his side and to execute his orders, but she refused to be separated from her Harry-sama. She would sooner rip out her own, still beating heart, than be separated from him even an instant. And those two British pigs had tried to take her from him, to take her from her Savior.
They would suffer.
As the Sekirei of Ice, controlling cold and ice had always come naturally to her, but her Ashikabi had made sure that in her time with him, she picked up spells, curses, and skills unrelated to her mastery over all things cold. While not as comfortable with the darker spells as Karasuba, she had picked up more than her fair share, and she fully intended to use them now.
A wave of her wand had the younger wizard howling in pain as the skin of his legs was slowly peeled off, magic keeping the pain constant as the curse was made specifically to inflict as much pain as possible without killing (which made it something of an alternative, much messier version of the Cruciatus, only this one was not forbidden for use).
While the boy was busy screaming his lungs off, she turned her attention to the father. The man still trying, and failing, to right himself, his hand clutching his own spare wand. A wave later, the stick was reduced to frozen splinters, while his body twitched uncontrollably under the effect of the lightning she had summoned. She kept the spell up for about twenty seconds, before releasing the twitching wizard, turning her head back to the son. Said son was still howling, his voice coarse, and a scream of pain escaped his lips as her fire whip sent him flying into the barrier.
While she wanted nothing more than to hurt the pair for as long as she could until they died, she agreed with her Ashikabi that should she take too long to kill the Purebloods, that someone would interfere, never mind the fact that Magic itself demanded the death of one side. As such, she ended Lucian Bole's life, then and there, while making sure he felt every moment as she froze his body, starting with his genitals, making sure that each part was fully frozen and that his mind had time register the pain before continuing with another part.
She was quite satisfied when the boy's screams grew too coarse to be coherent anymore, and felt a surge of vengeful pleasured as she impaled him with an ice pike. She noticed that there were several screams coming from the public, with several people having fainted, but that hardly mattered.
"You lowly b-bitch!" growled the older wizard, still kneeling in pain, "You will not get away with this! You think you are your filthy Halfblood of a husband can just do what you want?! We are Purebloods! Your superiors! Go on, kill me! Others will come, will teach you your place!"
He drew in a breath to continue his tirade, but she had had enough. Not only was it growing tiresome to listen to this pig's voice, but he was also insulting her Ashikabi.
With a blink, the wizard who had tried to enslave her using a contract that would have reduced to little more than his son's toy, looked down to see her arm, protected by a layer of ice carved into claws, running his body through. Blood seeped from the fist-sized hole in his stomach, dripping from the wicked claws that had shredded his insides, before she withdrew her arm, the older man vomiting blood as a disbelieving wail tried, and failed, to escape his lips. Eyes wide in shock looked up to meet her own, and she glared down as she flicked her hand to the side, sending droplets of blood flying.
"Die, worm," she hissed.
Had anyone been close enough to hear her words, they would have been shocked by the sheer amount of venom in her tone, but again very few could understand Akitsu's thought process, and of those none were present or cared overly much for the elder Bole's life. It was with great satisfaction that she watched the man slowly choke to death, his lungs slowly drowning in his own lifeblood. Not nearly as much suffering as she would have liked to visit upon him, but it would have to do.
Only when the wizard ceased moving did she turn her back on him, and walked back to where her place was: the side of her Ashikabi.
Harry was not impressed by the Bole's performance, though he didn't have much time to care about it, as the people present all shied away as a furious Dumbledore made his way through their ranks, while most of them stared at Akitsu and him in fear. The only other emotion he could spot, on the face of the people he assumed were Pureblood supremacists, was anger, likely that two Purebloods had just been killed with ludicrous ease. Not that he cared much. It was hardly his fault their people didn't bother to exercise, after all.
Looking around, he saw, as he expected, many faces bearing the exact same emotion: fear. In some cases, such as with Umbridge, it was mixed with anger and hatred, and in others, it was nothing but pure, primal terror. After all, few eleven-years old were accustomed to see people killed, and in such a brutal fashion either, but in the end it was hardly his fault that they had decided to watch. And in his opinion, it was far better to toughen up a child instead of trying to train an adult, something that wizards clearly didn't understand if the way they wasted the formative years of their students was any indication.
"Mister Minaka, you will follow me to my office, this instant!" demanded Dumbledore, only to be met with Harry's unimpressed stare.
"No thanks, I'm pretty sure that this is some bullshit attempt to admonish me about how forgiving people who rape and kill is the answer, and how I should just bend over and take it like a little bitch. Which I am sorry to say, will never happen. Now, aside from your delusions of peaceful resolution of conflicts, was there anything else? I'd like to do something productive with my time."
"Mister Minaka, this level of violence was uncalled for! You cannot kill all those who offend you!" growled Dumbledore, his aura swirling around him as he glared at the teenager.
His visible aura, coupled with the displeasure that could be felt from it as it pressed down on those present, had those who weren't still reeling from the gory spectacle trying to put as much distance between the irate wizard and themselves.
It did precious little to Harry, though. It was hard to be intimidated by someone whom he knew was weaker than him, was a diehard pacifist (and thus would never resort to violence first), and had little political clout left. As such he gave the old man a deadpan stare.
"Cute. Now, if you are done trying to intimidate the Lord of an Ancient House, could you kindly fuck off? Akitsu deserves a reward, and unlike you, when a gorgeous woman makes it clear she expects me to take her to bed, I will gladly oblige."
Ignoring the spluttering headmaster, Harry grabbed the blushing Akitsu's hand, and, followed by a smirking Karasuba and Homura, who was glaring at Dumbledore, left the Great Hall, the masses parting to leave the group a wide berth.
Those few who still had doubts about the Boy-Who-Lived's chances in the Tournament were quickly reevaluating their opinion. Even if he himself had done little, if he had a woman like Akitsu to train him, then it was clear that he was by no means going to be a pushover.
With the First Task at hand, many were eager to see what would happen next.
The author's AN:
-Dumbledore didn't punish Lucian?!
Actually, he did. Lucian got two hundred points and detention with Filch until the end of his school years. Not much, yes, but Dumbledore, as explained in this chapter, believes in redemption. The fact that Ivy wasn't raped, even if she came close to, means that to him there is no need to contact the DMLE. In this story, our senile Headmaster is hellbent in keeping things as he wants them, and if it means ignoring the near-rape of Ivy Potter, he's willing to do it if he believes it'll benefit him in the future. And given that the Potters made it clear that they don't want anything to do with him, he'll hardly lose an ally.
-Lucian was dumb enough to try and rape Ivy, AND try to enslave Akitsu?!
Yep, he was. Though in both cases he believed he could get away with it: in Ivy's case he planned on using the Imperius to have her write a false suicide note (which, given that she was distant with her family, might have been believable) and have her jump from the Astronomy Tower, while in Akitsu's case, well if it had worked, legally Harry wouldn't have been able to do a thing. He could've thrown a tantrum, but nothing legal could have been done unless the Boles wanted it to happen. And with Akitsu enslaved to him, he'd have gotten a beautiful sex slave and a powerhouse at his beck and call.
The obligatory bitching: in a review to another of my fics, someone told me that I should stop trying to justify everything in my stories. I disagree. People do things for a reason, even if it's just to see what happens. I can't have someone do something and not expect questions about why they did it. I can't have Dumbledore try and defend Lucian "just because it's Dumbledore". I have to expand on his point of view, on how he perceives things, to make it believable.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Hopefully the next one won't take as long to be published.