[FF] Trinity VI: The Blood (Type-Moon/Harry Potter X-over)

[Kieran]

Honestly, I think the issue has less to do with intelligence and more to do with the natural inclination of people to seek wish fulfillment. The SI is a tool, a device to initiate these fantasies, rather than a true character, who is a device through which narrative is spun. There's nothing wrong with it but it's not usually very entertaining reading. Kieran simply shows a little more restraint than most people would, which makes a lot of difference. He has his moments, but overall he does make a concerted effort to minimize the natural Gary Stu qualities of the SI and focus the story on the canon characters. True the "eye" is usually fixated on the sexual tension between the crossover characters, but usually the romance has little actual bearing on the *main* plot, which is still being driven by Voldemort and other such canon characters, and in different directions than the original story to a certain extent. Whether or not it's better to change the nature and personality of some of the canon characters to effect this change depends on the reader; I think a diehard HP fan would take umbrage to how some characters are portrayed and changed in this, but since I'm not a diehard HP fan, I don't care. ~<3

Fair enough. And I know I'm being self-indulgent in this area, as well - it's just my good fortune that the majority of you seem to support it.

Of course, being a diehard Harmony shipper, if she can't have Harry . . . Honestly, I've yet to find anyone else who deserves her.

As for Akiha, I don't think there was anything "wrong" with her trusting Kohaku, or even that she genuinely didn't believe she could betray her. Having played the game, my impression from her route was that a willing blindness occurred, or from a different point of view, she wanted to believe that she could atone for Kohaku's mistreatment by her father, and couldn't recognize that her efforts to be at least humane to her maid were for nothing. Everyone was fooled, sorta. It was aided in part by the way Hisui acts honestly. It's been a long time and I'm probably wrong, but as I remember it, it seemed Akiha knew at least a little that Kohaku was dangerous, but probably didn't resist out of guilt or a subconscious desire to be punished.

Ah, poor Akiha. Had I the sick desire to keep Traveler going, you would have finally had a fic on this forum in which you're not a baby-eating ogress. She always seems to be the insane, jealous washboard monster, not that she wasn't one in some routes. No you wouldn't have finally gotten a Good End in that either.

I try very hard not to hold anything against anyone, as far as Type-Moon characters go (Gil and the Matous being the notable exceptions) - but as much as I pity her, and wish better for her, I can't help but recognise the sheer potential Kohaku has for genuine evil. Given effectively free rein in the household, over a period of decades, I have absolute confidence in her ability to warp mother and son to her will. Akiha is, perhaps, not evil in herself - but she is, on a very real level, what Kohaku has made of her.

[Cascade]

My impression of the games is that Akiha was never evil, and basically everything she ever did from childhood was for Shiki's benefit, regardless of whether he thought she was a pest or not. But she had enough restraint that had Shiki chosen someone else, she would be devastated, but probably not do anything rash. When a half demon enters Inversion Impulse, their humanity is effectively gone permanently. The desires she had as a human are magnified, but taken to irrational extremes Akiha herself would never reach because the mental state removes the ability to reason and moralize like a human.
Even with her strong demonic lineage, her willpower was strong and she'd endured "loaning" half her lifeforce for years without losing her sanity. Akiha wouldn't have reached too severe of a state had she not been "poisoned" by killing SHIKI. This too was part of Kohaku's machinations.

That being said, I wonder who is Shin's father. If he is likely to Invert, she would have had to have a child with someone of comparable demonic blood, I would assume. Kouma could probably teach the whelp a thing or two about restraint, amusingly enough.

[Kieran]

In the Type-Moon version, I couldn't say - and here, it doesn't matter, since he's long dead. But feel free to theorise.

[Kieran]

DISCLAIMER: Lunar Legend Tsukihime, Fate/Stay Night, and all related characters and concepts are the creation and property of Kinoko Nasu and Type-Moon, along with anyone who's happened to license them, like Geneon or Funimation. Harry Potter and all related characters and concepts are the creation and property of J.K. Rowling, along with her publishers and Warner Bros., as regards the movie material.

This is a not-for-profit, just-for-fun project.



Writer's Note: Certain dialogue sequences in this story are lifted from Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, but I trust in the intelligence of my readers (and the availability of the books) to recognise them when they see them.



Chapter 56 - Planning for the Future



January 14 - 29, 1997






Once, Kohaku supposed, Draco Malfoy might have been considered a handsome boy. She could hardly consider herself expert on the subject - the attractiveness of a gaijin was not hers to judge, as his culture was not hers, and she had no real experience with sexual desire, in any case - but she could see how it might be that he had once been comely.

Once, mind you, but certainly no longer.

The upper right quadrant of the youth’s face was a vivid, angry purple, the features running together and down his cheek until that side of his profile more closely resembled a lump of melted wax than human flesh. His right ear was largely intact, if crispy around the edges, as were the patches of his hair that had surrounded it. The right eye, however, was utterly gone, replaced by a fitted orb of glass - though if one did not know that was the case, it was unlikely to be suspected. The human eye looked just as cold and dead as the replacement, after all. And right now, they were both glaring at her, so Kohaku made slight adjustments to her posture and tone of voice, until she resembled a servant bearing bad news - for so she was, as Malfoy’s next words attested.

“What do you mean, you can’t?”

“I meant precisely as I said, Mister Malfoy,” Kohaku replied, sadly but calmly. “I cannot accede to your request. It is far too great a risk.”

“Risk - what the bloody hell do you know about risk?!” he bellowed. “I’ve risked, and I lost an eye - what have you risked at all, hiding behind your damned disguise? Eh? What have you got to lose?”

Kohaku smiled, and was rewarded with the sight of the other girl in the room shivering - showing that she, at least, understood.

“My ‘damned disguise’ is very effective,” she admitted. “But it also has very precise limitations. My enemies will not know me unless I allow them to - and doing as you request would, in a sense, be just that.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” the blond demanded.

The Slytherin girl sighed. “It means, my dear Draco, that she’s aware that not everyone in the school is a brainless sheep. If she starts telling people that you’re amazingly skilled - good enough to merit joining Slughorn’s little dinner group - but you can’t back it up, the smart people will start wondering why she made the claim in the first place. And they don’t have to know exactly who she is in order to class her as suspicious, now do they?”

Kohaku merely nodded. As usual (in her experience, at least), it seemed that the female of the group was the more dangerous one - because she was smarter. Miss Davis, in some ways, reminded Kohaku of herself - she could almost get to like her . . . If dolls were capable of liking anyone, at least. That aside, the retainer acknowledged this line of thought as counterproductive to her goals, and returned her full attention to the task at hand.

“I can only hold you in detention for a little while longer,” she warned the Slytherins. “So if you’ve any other needs I can meet to help you accomplish your missions, speak quickly.”

“A way to either get Slughorn to hand the damned mead over to Dumbledore, or take the old fool out directly,” the blond muttered. “I can’t believe it - all the trouble to get the poison into it, and he kept it!”

Actually, she had been the one to poison it - the boy had merely had the idea to do so, having eavesdropped on the professor’s purchase. Despite this exaggeration, however, Kohaku’s face was a perfect mask, as always, and Miss Davis merely arched an eyebrow slightly. Mister Nott’s reaction was the most visible, and even that was merely a rolling of his eyes. Clearly, they’d all taken Slughorn’s measure - a pity that young Draco had not.

If I were to judge the Gryffindors by Malfoy-san, as one is supposed to judge someone by their enemies, I would have woefully underestimated them, Kohaku thought, with a mental sigh of relief that she had not done so.

“Mister Malfoy, perhaps you are being overly subtle?” she inquired gently. “After all, Lord Voldemort merely requires that Professor Dumbledore expire - how this occurs is ultimately of little import to him.”

“And I suppose you’ve got a better idea,” he sneered.

The maid had several, in fact - this sort of thing was what she’d been trained for, after all. It was the natural extension of her abilities . . . She quickly threw up her mental barriers, refusing to contemplate just what those abilities had been used for - she would not revisit those memories, not here and now. Fortunately, her momentary distraction seemed to have gone unnoticed, as young Mister Nott was currently berating his classmate, with Miss Davis as an appreciative audience.

“- so long as the job gets done” he said. “You could throw a Killing Curse at Dumbledore’s back as you passed him in the halls, and as long as it hit, that’s all our lord cares about.” He smirked at the blond. “Besides, that seems to be just about your speed, doesn’t it?”

“Meaning . . .?” Draco said dangerously.

“Meaning that you’ve always been right out there, the first one to bellow threats loudly or throw punches,” Nott said demeaningly. “Bold as any Gryffindor -”

The scarred boy’s face was now a uniform shade of purple, and Kohaku decided that she ought to step in before someone got hurt.

“Unless the three of you wish a further detention - and a true one, this time - I’d suggest you leave your squabbles until you’re out of my sight and hearing,” the maid said calmly. “In the meantime, might I assume that your silence on the matter of my assistance means that you don’t require it?”

Nott and Davis traded glances, then shook their heads minimally.

“There’s a Hogsmeade weekend next month,” Davis said. “I can get what I need then, as long as they don’t cancel it - but if they do, I’ll give you a list.”

“Me, too,” Nott agreed. “And as a prefect, I have legitimate access to my target.”

“All right, then,” the Japanese witch sighed. “In that case, your detentions are hereby over. Mister Malfoy, perhaps you ought to remain a while - it seems as though you could use the time to think . . .”






Hermione had known it was coming - her pathway into Galen’s mind had been growing fainter and fainter for days. His bottled blood kept her alive and healthy, but their Legilimency connection always faded after a lunar month, without her own ichor in his system to anchor it. And as there was no possible way that she was going to inflict that on him, that meant that if she wanted to renew that connection, she would have to bite him again.

. . . And does the fact that I’m looking forward to it make me a monster?

She tried to shelve her worries as she curled up next to him on the chesterfield the Room of Requirement had conjured for the purpose. His arms wrapped around her, as always, one hand reaching up to stroke her hair even as his head tilted, almost delicately, to bare his neck. Hermione knew without looking that his eyes were closed - not because he didn’t like seeing her as a vampire (it was a guilty thought, but she knew he thought she looked deadly/sexy with crimson eyes, pale skin, and fangs), but to brace himself. Galen hated needles, and she was about to plunge two very sharp ones into one of his major arteries.

It might be necessary, but he didn’t like the concept very much - and even his passive Occlumency was good enough, and automatic enough, that even trying to hypnotise him would be more trouble than it was worth. After months of experiments, they’d finally admitted that there wasn’t a better alternative, not without making a serious effort to place him under her dominance - and neither of them really wanted that. So Galen just had to bear the pain - and for her, he would. And for that, Hermione kissed that spot on his neck, because she could, before shutting down her human condition.

His circulatory system was practically glowing to her vampire eyes, the rhythm of his heart a thunderous, compelling melody. The scent rising off his skin would’ve been mouth-watering, if she still salivated in this state - as it was, her upper jaw itched painfully as her fangs tensed to release themselves, a stark contrast to the cold, hollow ache along the rest of her body. Hermione steadied herself for a breath, adjusting her mind to process the new, sharper inputs. She could ignore the thirst’s sudden clamouring inside her - she’d trained for that, after all - but tonight, at least, she wouldn’t have to. The thought excited the vampire in her . . . And the human, as well.

“I love you,” she whispered against his skin, her words slightly distorted by the motion of her fangs unsheathing inside her mouth - and then she darted forward.

Warmth. Warmth, sweetness, and love, pouring through her body - filling her still heart and forcing it to beat again, sending pleasant tingles along her extremities. . . . This never got tiresome, never felt routine, and Hermione strongly suspected that it never would. Certainly, the taste of the same blood, from the same source, was always as wonderful as it been that first time, despite months of subsisting on the same thing. But the physical aspect was the vampire’s pleasure in all of this, and it was the psychic aspect that truly enthralled the witch. Galen’s blood was a thread she could follow into his memories, into his heart . . . And she was welcome there.

It was a comfort that Hermione didn’t think she could ever describe, to be able to know that the pleasure she got in feeding from Galen brought him pleasure for it. To know that she wasn’t just taking in this bizarre relationship of theirs, but giving him a certain satisfaction and sense of self-worth, as well, in taking care of her as he was. Of course, that kind of intimacy had its drawbacks, as well. Hermione doubted that Galen could lie to her even if she wanted him to, now - she certainly knew it when he was lying to himself. It was part of what made things with the two of them, and Takara, so hard . . .

Not tonight, the vampire witch chided herself, withdrawing from his neck and licking at the punctures before pushing herself up with her right hand, even as her left hand reached for the phial of Blood-Replenishing Potion on the nearby end table to hand to Galen.

Hermione watched carefully as he drank it down, making certain that he didn’t spill, or choke, and only lowering herself against him once more when his complexion turned a healthy shade of pink again. As she settled into place, the vampire witch reaffirmed her resolve not to think about distressing things for tonight. Right now, she was warm, and full, and in her boyfriend’s arms - she was going to just enjoy it, at least for a little while longer. And with that thought, Hermione snuggled a bit closer to the warm body beneath he, nuzzling against him with her cheek and letting the purr that had been lurking in the back of her throat rumble its way out against his collarbone as he rubbed her back . . .

Galen chuckled, and she sighed at the way his voice vibrated through his chest when he said, in an amused tone, “You’ve never quite outgrown those kittenish mannerisms, have you, Hermione?”

She twisted her body and tilted her head so that she could look up into his face before answering, “I find them rather relaxing, to be honest.” She added softly, “And besides - it makes you smile when I act this way.”

He gave her a look, and she placed two fingers on his mouth before he could speak. “No, Galen - no guilt or protests over this. I like to see you smile, and if this is the best way to get one out of you, then that’s fine. Besides, as I said, I enjoy it - and of the two different sets of predatory thoughts wired into my head, this is the better one for me to be indulging.” She pinked a bit as she added, “I’d much rather have my subconscious thinking of you as a mate than as a meal.”

An ocean scene popped into her head suddenly, with talking sharks. “Fish are friends, not food.”

Hermione was a bit put off that he’d apparently latched on to the wrong definition of “mate,” but her curiosity held her tongue on that subject so that she could instead arch an eyebrow and ask, “And just what, exactly, was that?”

“A Disney movie, from the studio that did Toy Story,” Galen replied. “It won’t be released until somewhere around a decade or so from now.” He sighed. “I suppose Miranda will be too old for them by then . . .”

“You can always take your niece,” came a dry and unexpected response, causing the pair of them to spring apart, wands drawn to face -

Ilya shook her head. “Vampire and werewolf senses, and neither of you were paying enough attention to hear me come in, even though I’m thundering around like a kaiju.” She snorted, one hand rubbing across her swollen belly even as the other pressed against her back to thrust it forward. “Come on, you two - I can’t possibly be much more obvious than I am right now! Constant vigilance, right?”

“. . . Are you all right, Ilya?” Hermione asked.

The half-Veela scowled, her tone irritable as she replied, “I’m up, aren’t I?” After a moment, she sighed, and added, “Sorry, Hermione . . . I’m exhausted, but I can’t sleep - well, no,” Ilya corrected herself, scowling again. “It’s more a case of someone not letting me sleep. I thought I’d see if a snack would help settle her down, and it’s easier for me to get to the kitchens from here - fewer stairs to climb.”

“Care for some company?” Galen asked.

“That depends,” Ilya said seriously, before the shadow of one of her more wicked smiles crossed her face. The reason for it became obvious when she asked teasingly, “Have I completely killed the mood, or not?”

Hermione reflected that perhaps she’d needn’t feed so often, after all - it might be nice not to be able to blush at times like this. As it was, she was virtually certain that her entire blood supply had now migrated to her face.

Galen cleared his throat, his voice carefully even, and at odds with the redness of his face. “We’ve got to start our rounds soon, anyway. We’ll walk you down to the kitchens, and if you don’t mind waiting, we’ll pick you up when we circle back on that floor, all right? That way we can help you up the stairs before doing the rest of the castle.”

Ilya snorted again, caught by an unexpected giggling fit. “Waiting? I’m almost eight months pregnant, Galen - you could go ahead and cover all of Hogwarts, and I’d probably still be eating when you came back!”

“Is it that bad?” Hermione asked curiously. She’d been only four when Miranda was born, so her memories of her mum being pregnant were somewhat hazy, and no one else she’d known had been pregnant since - at least, not at a time and place where she was in a position to observe its occurring.

And since it isn’t going to happen to me . . . came the quiet, sad thought, before she ruthlessly squashed it. No dark thoughts, Hermione reminded herself fiercely. Not tonight.

“At this point, when I need to eat, I need to eat,” Ilya sighed. “The baby has a good five or six pounds to put on before she’s born - and while that doesn’t sound like much, it’s basically quintupling her body weight . . .” Ilya half-shrugged, before her right hand flew back to brace her spine as she added with a wince, “Like my back isn’t aching enough already.”

Taking that as a cue, the vampire witch walked over to the half-Veela’s rear side, and began massaging the older girl’s spine. Like Galen, she wasn’t a trained masseuse, but years of fur therapy sessions with him had given her some idea of where the sensitive spots were along the back - which muscles tended to tense up, and so on. More to the point, she was fully capable of supporting Ilya’s weight with ease, taking some of the strain off her body. While Ilya tensed at first from the unexpected contact - she was somewhat used to Hermione’s mannerisms where physical contact was concerned, but they’d never been that close - that groan that emerged from Ilya’s throat a few moments later was almost painfully appreciative.

“Oh, thank you, Hermione,” she whispered. “As much as I love Shirou’s touch, I have to admit that he doesn’t quite have the delicacy for this kind of thing. And your fingers are nice and cool, too.”

I suppose that’s one plus to having a vampiric metabolism, the witch in question thought sardonically. Still, the fact could hardly be denied - and there were other perquisites, as well.

“The baby’s heartbeat is very strong,” Hermione whispered to Ilya. Strong enough to call to her, however faintly, with the promise of health and well-being. It wasn’t as precise as a sonogram, or as pleasant to consider, but she could certain of the child’s health, at least. Shirou and Ilya’s daughter was developing nicely, and didn’t evidence any problems that she could sense - at least, not without tasting the baby’s blood, which didn’t even bear thinking about.

The half-Veela arched an eyebrow, apparently aware of the unspoken elements of that statement, before she finally replied, “So are her legs - want to feel?”

The vampire witch’s eyes widened. “. . . Can I, really?”

In answer, the pregnant blonde unbuttoned the lower half of her nightgown, baring her belly to Hermione’s touch. Tentatively, the younger witch laid her fingers across the curve of older witch’s skin - and was rewarded almost immediately by a powerful jolt against them.

“Ngh . . . Yes, she’s still feeling energetic. I hope a late-night snack will make her relax her enough to sleep,” Ilya sighed, before glancing at Galen and adding, “If not, then maybe some time with her godfather will do the trick.”

It took three heartbeats for him to process that last statement - Hermione could actually count them. After that, the lycanthrope blinked, suddenly pale enough to pass for a vampire, himself.

“. . . Excuse me?” Galen sputtered.

Ilya gave him a serious look. “Galen . . . Who else would I trust her to, if we were gone?”

“Your parents?” he countered. “Godparents are supposed to be spiritual guardians as well as physical, Ilya - and I’m a werewolf that finds the Dark Arts come way too easily, not to mention that I happen to own a vampire! Do you really think she’ll be safe - do you really want her growing up to be like me?”

It wasn’t meant as a slight on her, and Hermione knew that - merely an indication that society would frown on what he was doing, what he was, and that it was a stigma that a quarter-Veela witch would not need to suffer, on top on that attached to being what she was. And the moral aspect, of being too deeply engrossed in the Dark Arts, was even more disturbing.

“Honestly? Not entirely,” Ilya said flatly. “Which is why Shirou picked Rin as her godmother - but I want you in her life, too, Galen. You’ll spoil her, I’m sure - and there will be times when she needs that . . . But you’ll teach her to dream, if nothing else, and she’ll do you some good, too. I know you, and I know what having a little girl to protect will do for you.”

“You also know my instinctive reaction to screaming children,” Galen pointed out, “so this doesn’t exactly seem wise.”

“Hermione and Takara will keep you from doing anything too stupid,” Ilya said, with the absolute certainty of one who knows what she’s talking about, “and they’ll be a help, as well. She’s going to be like Fleur when she hits puberty - she’ll need all the support she can get. Having a godfather who can very decisively chase away all those drooling morons, and a couple of very pretty girls that she can rely on to understand . . .” Ilya smiled, in lieu of another shrug.

“Are you planning on dying, then?” Hermione couldn’t resist asking.

“No,” Ilya said softly. “I want to hold my grandchildren - and my great-grandchildren - in my arms, with Shirou beside me . . . But this is a war, and I want to make sure that if the worst happens - if her parents and grandparents are both killed - that my daughter is protected. I don’t want the Einzbern main family to have total say in her life, even if this is a different reality - not after what they did to Mama and me. And I know that I can trust Galen to make sure of it . . . “ She paused, and glanced at him again. “You will, won’t you?”

“. . . Yes, Milady,” Galen said at last, and there was no humour in his tone despite the choice of words. “If it is your wish that I guard and guide your daughter, then so I will do, unto my own death.”

“And I’ll do the same,” Hermione added, thinking that if nothing else, it would give her something to do across the centuries that she was likely to live - and Galen, too, for that matter, not that they’d broached the subject with him yet.

“Good enough,” Ilya said. “Though personally, I’ll still pray for summer days where Saturday matinees with ‘Uncle Galen’ fill Ichiko’s life, and she comes home to us babbling over all the neat stuff she saw at the theatre.” She smiled. “I can see that becoming a tradition, over the years - and I like the thought.”

She glanced at Hermione. “You, on the other hand, can take her to the midnight book releases - she ought to be just old enough to appreciate Twilight by the time the series hits its stride.”

“You’re really going to inflict Twilight on her?” Galen asked, in some sense genuinely horrified.

“Inflict, no,” Ilya replied. “Resigning myself to, yes.” She sighed. “Meanwhile, I’ve been awake long enough that I’m now hungry myself, regardless of my plan to put the baby to sleep - so could we hit the kitchens, please?”

With a smile, Galen offered the pregnant witch his arm, and the two set off, Hermione watching them and shaking her head. Ilyasviel von Einzbern had always been a bit of an odd duck, to Hermione’s way of thinking. Hermione’s human sensibilities could comprehend the difference between a liege lady and a lady love, as Ilya had often described herself, but not Nala’s . . . Whereas, by contrast, her lioness instincts had no problem with the idea of sharing a mate with another female, but her human upbringing protested at the idea. But tonight, Ilya’s inclusion of her in the plans for the half-Veela’s daughter had cemented the girl’s place as a pride member, in Nala’s mind, for who else but a pride sister would entrust her cub to Hermione?

And the child would be Shirou’s, as well . . .

Yes, if nothing else, Nala could and would care for her brother’s daughter - and Hermione would certainly try, her condition notwithstanding. And upon realising the implications of what Ilya had said, it meant a lot to her that the half-Veela apparently trusted her to do so.

Suddenly feeling cheerier than she could recall being in the last few months, Hermione asked Ilya pleasantly, “So, has Shirou shared any of his plans with you for Valentine’s Day?”

“Not yet,” the older witch admitted. “Of course, what I’d like to do for Valentine’s Day isn’t really recommended as an activity for someone as far along as I’ll be by then . . . “ She grinned shamelessly, even as Hermione resisted the urge to blush. “Has Galen asked you what you want, yet?”

“Not yet,” Hermione echoed, glancing at the wizard in question. “What I want, truthfully, is a single, red rose . . . But only if he means it.”

Not so much for itself, the vampire witch admitted. I already know that he loves me, and that he loves Takara - and we’re all sort of aware of that fact. We’ve even discussed it amongst ourselves, to varying degrees. But a single, red rose - a rose that means romantic love, the world over . . . Even if he gives one to both of us, it will be an admission in a way that no one can pretend they don’t understand, a reason to really talk, openly, about what can - and what’s going to - happen in the future.

I’m ready if you are, Galen . . .






The Portkey ride was uncomfortable, as such things always were, but he endured it, as even he would have difficulty Apparating so far - at least, while maintaining the image of strength that would be required to achieve his goals. As it was, he remained hale and healthy, with the strength and unyieldingness of iron, as he faced his greeters. Not so much as a twitch of fear was shown, despite the fact that the gatekeepers, such as they were, were several times his size.

“Tell your Gurg that Lord Voldemort has arrived,” he instructed the giants imperiously. “And do so quickly - I have travelled a great distance for this conversation, and I will be highly disappointed if my time is wasted further.”








Additional Writer's Notes: Sorry for the slow updates - this new course's deadlines are a bit more stringent, which means I've got to work a little harder to keep up. And I've got a mid-term next week, so things may be a little more lethargic than I'd wish over the next little while. Once again, very sorry.

[kuniKaiRoe]

Whee!
Summary: in which Draco is more Gryffindor than he's comfortable with, Kohaku is very likely to be the one at Hogwarts, and Galen's Lolicon status will never leave him.

[Techlet]

Oooooh, do we finally get to find out what Shiki really said to the giants?

Also, rooting for Galen/Takara/Hermione threesome.

[NanayaMode]

That had better NOT have been an Ilya death flag you triggered there.

[Kieran]

Oooooh, do we finally get to find out what Shiki really said to the giants?

Likely, at some point - basically, I figure Voldemort's need for troops (especially terrifying ones) is at the point where "no" is not an acceptable answer.

Also, rooting for Galen/Takara/Hermione threesome.

You and many others, apparently.

That had better NOT have been an Ilya death flag you triggered there.

I'm not planning on it being one . . . But given her history, can you honestly see Ilya not making sure her baby is well taken care of in the event that something happens? Or Shirou, for that matter?

[Elf]

And poor poor Rin is forever doomed to be a bridesmaid but never a bride.

Also, Draco you're looking pretty now, aren't you? While Tracey is still awesome, and Kohaku will play them all.

[Mattias]

Now if this was a straight humor fic, I'd expect next chapter to start with Voldie running his ass of as giants throw trees at him...

[ItsaRandomUsername]

Damnit Kieran, this chapter lost all credibility with the lines about Twilight.

My sides...they hurt so much~

[TheAbsolutistsCreed]

I see what you did there... The future is something I can appreciate greatly.

[B.B. Rain]

And then they killed Giants.

[Kieran]

And poor poor Rin is forever doomed to be a bridesmaid but never a bride.

Eh . . . Maybe someday, but not right now.

Also, Draco you're looking pretty now, aren't you? While Tracey is still awesome, and Kohaku will play them all.

Veela fire - gotta love it. And yes, yes they are.

Now if this was a straight humor fic, I'd expect next chapter to start with Voldie running his ass of as giants throw trees at him...

Don't dismiss the possibility . . .

Damnit Kieran, this chapter lost all credibility with the lines about Twilight.

My sides...they hurt so much~

To be fair, I have read the books - I have the policy that if I'm going to make fun of something, I should at least try it first. Sadly, Twilight did not leave me with a shortage of things to mock. I actually think Rowling is a better writer than Meyer, which should tell you a great deal, and no matter how this ends up, I can't possibly end this love triangle in a worse way than she did hers.

I see what you did there... The future is something I can appreciate greatly.

Hey, it means they know to get a Tickle-Me Elmo doll before Ichiko wants one - when they'll be impossible to find.

And then they killed Giants.

Well, I had to have a use for that fourth Unforgivable, right?

[Ergast]

So~~ can someone remind me, please, of what happened to poor Drakie? I'm a bit off, right now.

[Kieran]

Ilya smashed a fireball into his face for attacking Shirou.

[Ergast]

Right, now I remember. That would serve him.

[rajvir]

Right, now I remember. That would serve him.

That it would unfortunely it has not taught him to leave people better than him alone.

[YamiheKazeto]

That it would unfortunely it has not taught him to leave people better than him alone.

You know, it makes me wonder if Tom would be angry at Draco if he got to know that the guy is attacking his firstborn.

[rajvir]

You know, it makes me wonder if Tom would be angry at Draco if he got to know that the guy is attacking his firstborn.

I doubt it this Voldemort is pretty cunning so i doubt he would care hell I would not be surprised if he targeted Illya even if he know about him being the child's grandfather.