Fencer's Plot Bunnies
- Location
- United States
Maxim 6: If excessive force isn't solving your problem, you clearly aren't using enough of it.
-Schlock Mercenaries, "70 Maxims of Maximally Effective Mercenaries"
- Location
- Wherever I go, there I am
I thought Maxim 6 was, "If violence wasn't your last resort you failed to resort to enough of it."
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- Location
- Europe
One unrelated DnD quote seems like it was specifically crafted to fit this particular narrative^^:
"There exists no problem that can't be solves by killing enough wizards."
"There exists no problem that can't be solves by killing enough wizards."
Or casting fireball...or Frag grenade, same difference... kinda.
View: https://youtu.be/FFQDXuDA9PU
Somewhere is a clip of Duncan Fisher becoming a murder hobo during a dnd game, sadly I couldn't find that one.
View: https://youtu.be/FFQDXuDA9PU
Somewhere is a clip of Duncan Fisher becoming a murder hobo during a dnd game, sadly I couldn't find that one.
I definitely enjoyed these two segments. I also think this is the only peak Warlord Skitter/Harry Potter crossover I've seen. I've seen some from earlier, and a couple post-GM ones, but not Skitter at her most vicious. Harry Potter is definitely a setting that could use a bit more cold blooded practicality.
It has been a while since I read Harry Potter, but my recollection is that the summer after 5th year was when Harry felt the most abandoned by his friends. I'm not sure if this Vegas trip happened late enough in the summer for that to have set in for Harry yet, but that is another point of shared traumatic commonality between Taylor and Harry.
Also. does Taylor count as the power that Voldemort knows not? Voldemort definitely would not know about Parahumans. And funnily enough, Dumbledore might be approving of the relationship when he first hears about it, because he is a big believer that the power is Love, and what is marriage but an expression of love? I am looking forward to seeing both his initial reaction, and then him realizing just what Taylor is like.
It has been a while since I read Harry Potter, but my recollection is that the summer after 5th year was when Harry felt the most abandoned by his friends. I'm not sure if this Vegas trip happened late enough in the summer for that to have set in for Harry yet, but that is another point of shared traumatic commonality between Taylor and Harry.
Also. does Taylor count as the power that Voldemort knows not? Voldemort definitely would not know about Parahumans. And funnily enough, Dumbledore might be approving of the relationship when he first hears about it, because he is a big believer that the power is Love, and what is marriage but an expression of love? I am looking forward to seeing both his initial reaction, and then him realizing just what Taylor is like.
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Fencer
Writer
- Location
- 2nd shift
- Pronouns
- He/Him
need to remember to give Harry some time to shine at some point. It's bad practice, but honestly my favorite part of this so far is writing Harry watch Taylor, Taylor. I'm used to writing her but now I can write her while skipping her thought process and Harry is just following along as best he can and I don't know why it's so amusing for me, but it is.
verycoolname
Not actually cool
I think the way Harry could help Taylor would be very different from the way Taylor is going to help Harry. Or rather, Skitter is going to solve the-boy-who-lived's problems while Harry Potter helps with Taylor Hebert's problems.
Honestly, I think one of the big reasons why people enjoy post-GM stories (and mid Worm stories) where Taylor ends up elsewhere is because a lot of people enjoy watching Taylor waltz in and change everything through sheer force of will, and seeing everyone be dumbfounded as she acts completely different from what they are expecting.
For Harry getting some spotlight, the first thing that comes to mind would be against magical creatures that Taylor doesn't know about, and might not have the tools to easily counteract. Bugs and assault rifles aren't going to do anything to dementors, and Taylor is likely relatively vulnerable to their aura, just like Harry in 3rd year. If they are bringing back your worst memories, she will likely be reliving her mom's death and the locker, which would likely impair her to a significant extent.
Another thing to keep in mind is that while Taylor routinely punches well out of her weight class, she is generally able to do that because of preparation and dirty tricks. In a straight duel against a wizard without any element of surprise, she might have a lot more trouble. If there are insect repelling spells that she can't bypass, that removes a lot of her tools. While she quite likely could find some way to pull off a victory, Harry might be better in a straight up slugging match against a death eater. At this point, he is a reasonable skilled duelist (I think so at any rate, this is after he ran DA for a while), and is effectively a mini-Eidolon fighting other mini-Eidolons. Especially if Taylor works with Harry on some combat strategies (which she has extensive experience with), Harry could end up being a serious threat in his own right because of the sheer versatility of magic. (Side note: the standard shield spells seem to block magic and most objects, but they are transparent. Could magic transfigure lasers? Could lasers bypass shield spells? That seems like the sort of thing that Taylor would think about as a way past shield spells that could be brought up to Harry.)
For Harry getting some spotlight, the first thing that comes to mind would be against magical creatures that Taylor doesn't know about, and might not have the tools to easily counteract. Bugs and assault rifles aren't going to do anything to dementors, and Taylor is likely relatively vulnerable to their aura, just like Harry in 3rd year. If they are bringing back your worst memories, she will likely be reliving her mom's death and the locker, which would likely impair her to a significant extent.
Another thing to keep in mind is that while Taylor routinely punches well out of her weight class, she is generally able to do that because of preparation and dirty tricks. In a straight duel against a wizard without any element of surprise, she might have a lot more trouble. If there are insect repelling spells that she can't bypass, that removes a lot of her tools. While she quite likely could find some way to pull off a victory, Harry might be better in a straight up slugging match against a death eater. At this point, he is a reasonable skilled duelist (I think so at any rate, this is after he ran DA for a while), and is effectively a mini-Eidolon fighting other mini-Eidolons. Especially if Taylor works with Harry on some combat strategies (which she has extensive experience with), Harry could end up being a serious threat in his own right because of the sheer versatility of magic. (Side note: the standard shield spells seem to block magic and most objects, but they are transparent. Could magic transfigure lasers? Could lasers bypass shield spells? That seems like the sort of thing that Taylor would think about as a way past shield spells that could be brought up to Harry.)
Vegas Vacation 3
Fencer
Writer
- Location
- 2nd shift
- Pronouns
- He/Him
AN: I may need a plan because I do not want another long fic on my plate but uhhh this is starting to gain traction the way previous long fics did… look all I'm saying is maybe. If this hits five updates and it's still going strong, we'll talk. Honestly it sort of caught me off guard, because I was seriously thinking a few of the older snips might grab my attention next, but this is just… The difference in mentality between Taylor and either side of this fight is just laughable. Which does not mean Taylor can rofl stomp through all the death eaters, but she's used to being the underdog and it's made her vicious and underhanded where the DE's are cocky, and the Order just will not go for the throat. At least not until Dumbles is out of the equation and they realize they are on the losing side.
@Functionality not trying to snub or ignore you or anything by not sending these to you. Just figured you had enough on your plate at the moment, and when I started I honestly thought it would be just another one shot. Now I'm just running full sprint for as long as my muse is willing to play ball because I missed this.
{}{}{}{} Taylor
Lopping off a couple fingers to get rid of the rings was apparently not the solution. The magic was tied to us, not the useless hunks of metal. Trying would just see the stupid ring jump to another finger until we ran out of digits. At which point you would end up with an incredibly thin choker.
Honestly the slave caller look might have been more honest if Harry had been in on it. Which he had not. I had to keep reminding myself. Too easy to just hate him because he's there, but he's in the same boat I am, and the easily activated magical bond agreed that he hadn't been trying to take advantage of me.
Now I just had to keep reminding myself until it sank in.
Much more productive to work on revenge plans for the crazy bitch and Nymphadora. Nymphadora would live, partly because she hadn't planned this and had caused it while drunk off her ass. Partly because if I was going to work with these people maiming one of them wasn't likely to win me any friends.
Finding the proper balance of revenge there was going to take some thought. Crazy bitch was apparently friends with Alexandria so murdering her for this insanity might not be great for my health. Sure, CB said I could kill Alexandria but my only plan for that could be stopped by a sealed helmet.
"Taylor?" Harry asked.
I hummed back as I focused on cleaning my new guns. It was something I was going to need to practice, because I'd only ever had the one pistol and these were not the same.
"Time to get going. Tonks and Remus want all this shrunk down before we pack it away. Just in case, no one in the ministry should care about muggle weapons, but they don't want to take chances."
I glanced over my collection of weapons and my new clothes and essentials which were mostly still in bags. There had been more than enough money left over from selling the rings to buy myself some clothes and enough magic money looted from the building to get a small, enchanted, duffle bag. Seriously, featherlight and expansion charms? I was going to have the best and most extensive bug out bag possible just as soon as I could figure out what magical things I could use that might be useful.
"Right…" I reassembled the shotgun I was working on as quickly as I could. Then danced through the piles, picking out a few things.
Wearing a gun into a government building sounded like a bad idea. Even if the government in question would likely laugh at the idea of a non magical weapon being dangerous. But I wasn't about to go unarmed either. Especially not if I wouldn't have the chance to stop and re-arm myself until later.
I stuck the thinnest of the knives I'd picked up, a Fairbairn–Sykes, into the front pocket of my new hoody. The collapsible baton went in one pocket and a can of pepper spray in the other. I finished off by strapping the punch daggers to my wrists where the sleaves would hide them. Probably not the best place for them but at least they wouldn't be visible.
Harry looked at me like he thought I was crazy but the idiot kept his only weapon, which was a relatively fragile piece of wood, in his pocket. I let that thought repeat for a few seconds, then I tossed him a can of pepper spray.
Harry sighed like a put upon adult dealing with an unruly child before chuckling and pocketing the can. I just rolled my eyes while my back was turned and started putting my new clothes into my bag. Nymphadora had a wand holster, and I was going to force Harry to buy one on pain of bugs in his food at the first chance.
"Are you sure we need to shrink the guns down?" I asked. "You won't be able to use magic once we're in the UK, right? I somehow doubt most people will be enthusiastic about helping me with my weapons."
Harry chewed that thought over as he started passing me things to pack away,
"I don't think they'll search your stuff. Especially not with your cover story. But I think it's better safe than sorry in this case. And I can probably convince the twins or Mister Weasley to unshrink them for you."
"…Fine."
I wouldn't be so worried about this if I could bring a decent swarm with me, but that just wasn't possible. And while I'd never had a problem calling up bugs on site so to speak, it still took a while for four blocks worth of insects to converge, and we had multiple teleports between us and safety. The best I could do was keep a few scorpions and spiders handy.
I'd actually collected twenty breeding pairs of black widows and with a little careful breeding I could hopefully have a proper colony large enough to remake my costume in a few months. If my power worked on the magic spiders though? Well, it would depend on how hard their silk was to work, but I might have a complete costume in days instead.
With the last of my new weapons shrunk and put away, I zipped up the bag and followed Harry to the suite's living room.
"Ah, good!" Remus said with false cheer. "Harry with Tonks, Taylor with me. We'll be side along appariting you, but we have to do this together or the bond… well it really wouldn't like you two trying to separate like that."
Nodding I took the proffered hand and Remus counted down.
"Three, two, one!"
Trickster's teleports were disorienting. This was nauseating. I stumbled away from Remus and only barely held onto my breakfast as I distracted my stomach with an exploration of the different swarm of insects now under my control. The building was much bigger on the inside, and the overlapping areas were… not giving me a headache, but they were definitely something I would need to get used to if this was normal for magic architecture.
Tonks had a quietly muttered conversation with someone who cast a bunch of spells on me and then winced. Tonks assured them that it was a drunken mistake on everyone's part. But they were getting me off of the streets, and really hoping Dumbledore might have some ideas to get me out of the marriage. She then very quietly mentioned that someone had let loose giant magic spiders near the school, and Hogwarts had been quietly looking for a solution for years, so this really might work out great all around.
The whole time I just scowled at anyone who looked at me playing up the furious teenager I hadn't really let myself be since getting dropped here. It didn't help anything, but in a weird way it also felt better to be open about how I felt about nearly all of this.
Bullshitting out of the magical US? Surprisingly easy.
We caught a portkey, which was worse than apparition, to England not even thirty minutes after we arrived.
Bullshitting into magical England as the bride of a national celebrity? Much harder. Nymphadora only got ten words out before the shouting started. Ten minutes after that Harry and I were jammed in an interrogation room together. Nymphadora had managed to convey that we couldn't be separated, but not how far we could get. So, shared interrogation room. With easily about fifty people listening in from the other side of a stone wall, which was clear from the outside, and conveyed sound. Because magic. I really needed to research just what kind of extra features I could include in my new costume with the help of some enchanting. Maybe look into materials other than chitin for the armored bits.
{}{}{}{} Harry
Taylor was acting again, but it wasn't like when she was selling off the rings. For that she had acted overconfident. Now she was acting angry and apathetic. Which was weird because apathy shouldn't mix with anything else, but she made it work.
"So, your name is Taylor Hebert?" The auror asking the question was a sturdy looking black man who introduced himself as Kingsley Shacklebolt.
"That's what I called myself." Taylor huffed. "Now it'd be Taylor Potter. Doesn't have much of a ring to it, but then again that's hardly my biggest complaint about this clusterfuck."
Shacklebolt's eyes narrowed.
"When you say that's what you called yourself…"
"I mean that literally." Taylor shrugged. "Search the world, you won't find any paperwork tied to that name unless there's another face to go along with it."
"You've been living under a false identity?"
"Not much choice. Parents disowned me. Even pulled something special out of the back of the family grimoire as a going away present." Taylor smirked, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Couldn't even let me keep my own name." Her eyes briefly darted to me, and I realized with a small pang that was one more nugget of truth she was slipping into her lie. Thanks to the bloody marriage. She really couldn't even keep her old name. Not all of it.
Shacklebolt stiffened.
"Your family wouldn't happen to have sold your name to the fey, would they? There hasn't been a confirmed sighting in-"
Taylor waved him off with a disgusted huff.
"I told you already, they pulled it out of an old family grimoire. No, they haven't had contact with the fey in… hell, I think it was seven generations? Just a spell they were given as payment for services rendered a long, long time ago."
Shacklebolt relaxed.
"And why did they decide to disown you? I'm sorry if that's an invasive question but-"
Taylor waved him off again with another disgusted huff.
"I get it, I get it. Mysterious girl with no past marries a national celebrity out of nowhere. Questions have to be asked because I might be up to something nefarious with the poor boy, beguiled by his hormones as he is."
I only barely swallowed a laugh at Taylor's disgusted tone of voice which I was sure she wasn't faking.
"Never mind the fact we're both underaged and shouldn't even have been allowed to marry. Believe me, I am in no way thrilled about this."
"I'm sure we can come back to that point in a minute but first, your parents?"
"Right, right. The petty, vindictive, genetic donors. So, they made some enemies, which was fine. They could mostly handle themselves. Only they got too full of themselves and they pissed off a spell crafter, and he got really creative. He whipped up a curse, just for me, so I'd be an embarrassment to the family name."
Taylor held one hand over the table and made a repetitive sweeping motion I knew she didn't need. One fly, two mosquitoes and a cockroach all began to fly around the table. Then as Taylor made the motions smaller and smaller the wobbly uneven circle grew tighter and tighter until finally the cockroach drunkenly crashed into the fly and both seemingly snapped out of it and took off.
Taylor huffed. Waved her hand and the mosquitoes went back to acting like normal insects. Then she did jazz hands at the auror.
"Tada." She deadpanned. "Mother and Father just couldn't live with the shame of their daughter having all her magic twisted into some funky compulsion spell for creepy crawlies. They disowned me, then dumped me in Vegas with no name, no paperwork, and no way to get any. I managed to make ends meet by playing exterminator for the no-maj's. Wasn't glamorous, but I was getting by."
"So, what happened? How did you and Mister Potter get married?"
Taylor looked at the man like she thought he might be mentally challenged.
"It's Vegas, and I'm underaged, which means I can get drinks without any trouble if I avoid the places that cater to rich tourists, and go somewhere desperate for every dime they can get. I finished a job, didn't get stiffed on my pay, and the anniversary of my emancipation was coming up. I decided to get drunk for a night and forget everything."
She hiked her thumb at me.
"Then I wander out of the bar and meet this idiot nursing a bottle of rum on his own. We split what was left of the bottle, and I woke up the next day with a shiny new accessory and a small mountain of bullshit waiting for me in the soon to be warzone you call a country. All because the stupid whore with the thing for older men tracked us down and browbeat a couple drunken teenagers into making it a double wedding!" Taylor snarled that last bit.
Shacklebolt winced, probably in sympathy but maybe a little bit of fear. A little too much of the real Taylor slipped out there.
"Mister Potter, is that accurate?"
"Think you'll have to take her word on her life story, sir. But if you mean how we met? Pretty much. Tonks, sorry, Mrs. Lupin insisted I needed a vacation. She roped in Remus because he knew my parents and looks out for me when he can. She apparently arranged the ceremony in advance. I felt really out of place in the dance club so I got a bottle of rum and went for a walk. Taylor wandered by looking ready to fall over and sat at the other end of the bench I was sitting on. We talked for a bit and then..."
I shook my head.
"Nothing, no memories past that point. Remus actually remembered though. He and Tonks followed the tracking charm on my bracelet. Dragged us along to be witnesses. Then Mrs. Lupin began to insist on a double wedding and we were all drunk enough to go along with it."
Shacklebolt nodded.
"Well, I'm sorry you both ended up in this situation. But it seems like everything is as in order as it can be given your background, Mrs. Potter. We'll likely spend a bit of time trying to verify your history, but given what you've said… I'm assuming your work was all done under the table? No tax records?"
"Had to be." Taylor shrugged.
"Right. Like I said we'll likely spend a bit of effort trying to verify your story, but given your situation I doubt we'll find anything. I'd expect an owl sometime soon with citizenship paperwork for you. Welcome to Britain."
Taylor sighed, nodded and stood with the auror.
"Great if you'll excuse us, I'd like to get behind the strongest walls and wards I can find before my husband's fan club can catch wind of this and organize an assassination attempt."
Shacklebolt nodded and herded us out of the room in time to catch an older woman with a monocle glaring at a very much cowed Mrs. Lupin, and a crowd of gawkers all staring at Taylor and I.
Taylor glared at the crowd and stormed through to start shoving Mrs. Lupin by the shoulders.
"Come on, Nymphadora." Taylor stressed the hated first name. "You swore you knew a place hubby," she snarled the normally affectionate term, "and I would be safe from crazy terrorists and his rabid fan club. If I have to sit here and get gawked at for being a freak one minute more, I'm going to start feeding you spiders."
Tonks yelped.
"Ok, ok, please no spiders! Can't take the floo, that'd separate you kids. We'll apparate from the lobby."
Remus sidled up next to me and squeezed my shoulder.
"Wonderful we have a plan, now hurry up and lead the way. The sooner we're out of here the better. Then you can go back to calling Remus daddy."
Tonks face turned fire engine red and she spluttered incoherently as she lead us through the ministry.
@Functionality not trying to snub or ignore you or anything by not sending these to you. Just figured you had enough on your plate at the moment, and when I started I honestly thought it would be just another one shot. Now I'm just running full sprint for as long as my muse is willing to play ball because I missed this.
{}{}{}{} Taylor
Lopping off a couple fingers to get rid of the rings was apparently not the solution. The magic was tied to us, not the useless hunks of metal. Trying would just see the stupid ring jump to another finger until we ran out of digits. At which point you would end up with an incredibly thin choker.
Honestly the slave caller look might have been more honest if Harry had been in on it. Which he had not. I had to keep reminding myself. Too easy to just hate him because he's there, but he's in the same boat I am, and the easily activated magical bond agreed that he hadn't been trying to take advantage of me.
Now I just had to keep reminding myself until it sank in.
Much more productive to work on revenge plans for the crazy bitch and Nymphadora. Nymphadora would live, partly because she hadn't planned this and had caused it while drunk off her ass. Partly because if I was going to work with these people maiming one of them wasn't likely to win me any friends.
Finding the proper balance of revenge there was going to take some thought. Crazy bitch was apparently friends with Alexandria so murdering her for this insanity might not be great for my health. Sure, CB said I could kill Alexandria but my only plan for that could be stopped by a sealed helmet.
"Taylor?" Harry asked.
I hummed back as I focused on cleaning my new guns. It was something I was going to need to practice, because I'd only ever had the one pistol and these were not the same.
"Time to get going. Tonks and Remus want all this shrunk down before we pack it away. Just in case, no one in the ministry should care about muggle weapons, but they don't want to take chances."
I glanced over my collection of weapons and my new clothes and essentials which were mostly still in bags. There had been more than enough money left over from selling the rings to buy myself some clothes and enough magic money looted from the building to get a small, enchanted, duffle bag. Seriously, featherlight and expansion charms? I was going to have the best and most extensive bug out bag possible just as soon as I could figure out what magical things I could use that might be useful.
"Right…" I reassembled the shotgun I was working on as quickly as I could. Then danced through the piles, picking out a few things.
Wearing a gun into a government building sounded like a bad idea. Even if the government in question would likely laugh at the idea of a non magical weapon being dangerous. But I wasn't about to go unarmed either. Especially not if I wouldn't have the chance to stop and re-arm myself until later.
I stuck the thinnest of the knives I'd picked up, a Fairbairn–Sykes, into the front pocket of my new hoody. The collapsible baton went in one pocket and a can of pepper spray in the other. I finished off by strapping the punch daggers to my wrists where the sleaves would hide them. Probably not the best place for them but at least they wouldn't be visible.
Harry looked at me like he thought I was crazy but the idiot kept his only weapon, which was a relatively fragile piece of wood, in his pocket. I let that thought repeat for a few seconds, then I tossed him a can of pepper spray.
Harry sighed like a put upon adult dealing with an unruly child before chuckling and pocketing the can. I just rolled my eyes while my back was turned and started putting my new clothes into my bag. Nymphadora had a wand holster, and I was going to force Harry to buy one on pain of bugs in his food at the first chance.
"Are you sure we need to shrink the guns down?" I asked. "You won't be able to use magic once we're in the UK, right? I somehow doubt most people will be enthusiastic about helping me with my weapons."
Harry chewed that thought over as he started passing me things to pack away,
"I don't think they'll search your stuff. Especially not with your cover story. But I think it's better safe than sorry in this case. And I can probably convince the twins or Mister Weasley to unshrink them for you."
"…Fine."
I wouldn't be so worried about this if I could bring a decent swarm with me, but that just wasn't possible. And while I'd never had a problem calling up bugs on site so to speak, it still took a while for four blocks worth of insects to converge, and we had multiple teleports between us and safety. The best I could do was keep a few scorpions and spiders handy.
I'd actually collected twenty breeding pairs of black widows and with a little careful breeding I could hopefully have a proper colony large enough to remake my costume in a few months. If my power worked on the magic spiders though? Well, it would depend on how hard their silk was to work, but I might have a complete costume in days instead.
With the last of my new weapons shrunk and put away, I zipped up the bag and followed Harry to the suite's living room.
"Ah, good!" Remus said with false cheer. "Harry with Tonks, Taylor with me. We'll be side along appariting you, but we have to do this together or the bond… well it really wouldn't like you two trying to separate like that."
Nodding I took the proffered hand and Remus counted down.
"Three, two, one!"
Trickster's teleports were disorienting. This was nauseating. I stumbled away from Remus and only barely held onto my breakfast as I distracted my stomach with an exploration of the different swarm of insects now under my control. The building was much bigger on the inside, and the overlapping areas were… not giving me a headache, but they were definitely something I would need to get used to if this was normal for magic architecture.
Tonks had a quietly muttered conversation with someone who cast a bunch of spells on me and then winced. Tonks assured them that it was a drunken mistake on everyone's part. But they were getting me off of the streets, and really hoping Dumbledore might have some ideas to get me out of the marriage. She then very quietly mentioned that someone had let loose giant magic spiders near the school, and Hogwarts had been quietly looking for a solution for years, so this really might work out great all around.
The whole time I just scowled at anyone who looked at me playing up the furious teenager I hadn't really let myself be since getting dropped here. It didn't help anything, but in a weird way it also felt better to be open about how I felt about nearly all of this.
Bullshitting out of the magical US? Surprisingly easy.
We caught a portkey, which was worse than apparition, to England not even thirty minutes after we arrived.
Bullshitting into magical England as the bride of a national celebrity? Much harder. Nymphadora only got ten words out before the shouting started. Ten minutes after that Harry and I were jammed in an interrogation room together. Nymphadora had managed to convey that we couldn't be separated, but not how far we could get. So, shared interrogation room. With easily about fifty people listening in from the other side of a stone wall, which was clear from the outside, and conveyed sound. Because magic. I really needed to research just what kind of extra features I could include in my new costume with the help of some enchanting. Maybe look into materials other than chitin for the armored bits.
{}{}{}{} Harry
Taylor was acting again, but it wasn't like when she was selling off the rings. For that she had acted overconfident. Now she was acting angry and apathetic. Which was weird because apathy shouldn't mix with anything else, but she made it work.
"So, your name is Taylor Hebert?" The auror asking the question was a sturdy looking black man who introduced himself as Kingsley Shacklebolt.
"That's what I called myself." Taylor huffed. "Now it'd be Taylor Potter. Doesn't have much of a ring to it, but then again that's hardly my biggest complaint about this clusterfuck."
Shacklebolt's eyes narrowed.
"When you say that's what you called yourself…"
"I mean that literally." Taylor shrugged. "Search the world, you won't find any paperwork tied to that name unless there's another face to go along with it."
"You've been living under a false identity?"
"Not much choice. Parents disowned me. Even pulled something special out of the back of the family grimoire as a going away present." Taylor smirked, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Couldn't even let me keep my own name." Her eyes briefly darted to me, and I realized with a small pang that was one more nugget of truth she was slipping into her lie. Thanks to the bloody marriage. She really couldn't even keep her old name. Not all of it.
Shacklebolt stiffened.
"Your family wouldn't happen to have sold your name to the fey, would they? There hasn't been a confirmed sighting in-"
Taylor waved him off with a disgusted huff.
"I told you already, they pulled it out of an old family grimoire. No, they haven't had contact with the fey in… hell, I think it was seven generations? Just a spell they were given as payment for services rendered a long, long time ago."
Shacklebolt relaxed.
"And why did they decide to disown you? I'm sorry if that's an invasive question but-"
Taylor waved him off again with another disgusted huff.
"I get it, I get it. Mysterious girl with no past marries a national celebrity out of nowhere. Questions have to be asked because I might be up to something nefarious with the poor boy, beguiled by his hormones as he is."
I only barely swallowed a laugh at Taylor's disgusted tone of voice which I was sure she wasn't faking.
"Never mind the fact we're both underaged and shouldn't even have been allowed to marry. Believe me, I am in no way thrilled about this."
"I'm sure we can come back to that point in a minute but first, your parents?"
"Right, right. The petty, vindictive, genetic donors. So, they made some enemies, which was fine. They could mostly handle themselves. Only they got too full of themselves and they pissed off a spell crafter, and he got really creative. He whipped up a curse, just for me, so I'd be an embarrassment to the family name."
Taylor held one hand over the table and made a repetitive sweeping motion I knew she didn't need. One fly, two mosquitoes and a cockroach all began to fly around the table. Then as Taylor made the motions smaller and smaller the wobbly uneven circle grew tighter and tighter until finally the cockroach drunkenly crashed into the fly and both seemingly snapped out of it and took off.
Taylor huffed. Waved her hand and the mosquitoes went back to acting like normal insects. Then she did jazz hands at the auror.
"Tada." She deadpanned. "Mother and Father just couldn't live with the shame of their daughter having all her magic twisted into some funky compulsion spell for creepy crawlies. They disowned me, then dumped me in Vegas with no name, no paperwork, and no way to get any. I managed to make ends meet by playing exterminator for the no-maj's. Wasn't glamorous, but I was getting by."
"So, what happened? How did you and Mister Potter get married?"
Taylor looked at the man like she thought he might be mentally challenged.
"It's Vegas, and I'm underaged, which means I can get drinks without any trouble if I avoid the places that cater to rich tourists, and go somewhere desperate for every dime they can get. I finished a job, didn't get stiffed on my pay, and the anniversary of my emancipation was coming up. I decided to get drunk for a night and forget everything."
She hiked her thumb at me.
"Then I wander out of the bar and meet this idiot nursing a bottle of rum on his own. We split what was left of the bottle, and I woke up the next day with a shiny new accessory and a small mountain of bullshit waiting for me in the soon to be warzone you call a country. All because the stupid whore with the thing for older men tracked us down and browbeat a couple drunken teenagers into making it a double wedding!" Taylor snarled that last bit.
Shacklebolt winced, probably in sympathy but maybe a little bit of fear. A little too much of the real Taylor slipped out there.
"Mister Potter, is that accurate?"
"Think you'll have to take her word on her life story, sir. But if you mean how we met? Pretty much. Tonks, sorry, Mrs. Lupin insisted I needed a vacation. She roped in Remus because he knew my parents and looks out for me when he can. She apparently arranged the ceremony in advance. I felt really out of place in the dance club so I got a bottle of rum and went for a walk. Taylor wandered by looking ready to fall over and sat at the other end of the bench I was sitting on. We talked for a bit and then..."
I shook my head.
"Nothing, no memories past that point. Remus actually remembered though. He and Tonks followed the tracking charm on my bracelet. Dragged us along to be witnesses. Then Mrs. Lupin began to insist on a double wedding and we were all drunk enough to go along with it."
Shacklebolt nodded.
"Well, I'm sorry you both ended up in this situation. But it seems like everything is as in order as it can be given your background, Mrs. Potter. We'll likely spend a bit of time trying to verify your history, but given what you've said… I'm assuming your work was all done under the table? No tax records?"
"Had to be." Taylor shrugged.
"Right. Like I said we'll likely spend a bit of effort trying to verify your story, but given your situation I doubt we'll find anything. I'd expect an owl sometime soon with citizenship paperwork for you. Welcome to Britain."
Taylor sighed, nodded and stood with the auror.
"Great if you'll excuse us, I'd like to get behind the strongest walls and wards I can find before my husband's fan club can catch wind of this and organize an assassination attempt."
Shacklebolt nodded and herded us out of the room in time to catch an older woman with a monocle glaring at a very much cowed Mrs. Lupin, and a crowd of gawkers all staring at Taylor and I.
Taylor glared at the crowd and stormed through to start shoving Mrs. Lupin by the shoulders.
"Come on, Nymphadora." Taylor stressed the hated first name. "You swore you knew a place hubby," she snarled the normally affectionate term, "and I would be safe from crazy terrorists and his rabid fan club. If I have to sit here and get gawked at for being a freak one minute more, I'm going to start feeding you spiders."
Tonks yelped.
"Ok, ok, please no spiders! Can't take the floo, that'd separate you kids. We'll apparate from the lobby."
Remus sidled up next to me and squeezed my shoulder.
"Wonderful we have a plan, now hurry up and lead the way. The sooner we're out of here the better. Then you can go back to calling Remus daddy."
Tonks face turned fire engine red and she spluttered incoherently as she lead us through the ministry.
verycoolname
Not actually cool
Taylor being really petty and embarrassing Tonks for revenge is funny to watch. The way Harry 'confirmed' Taylor's life story was pretty slick as well.
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"No sir. I do not have any firelegs."
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You are correct, good sir/madam. It's been a while since I read the list.
Fencer
Writer
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yo, does anyone remember, or can they check, how book six started? did Dumbledore need harry to see if he inherited Kreacher as proof that the Number 12 hadn't gone to one of Sirius's death eater relatives, or was that fanon? pretty sure the broom ride with moody was book five and book six was Dumbledore picking him up so they could go recruit Horace but I haven't reread canon in... fuck I couldn't even tell you. Normally I'd check my bookshelf for stuff like this, but I only brought a small bit of my collection with me when I moved last year and HP wasn't even considered.
Yes, that does in fact mean I'm already essentially ready to start working on the next update. holly fuck I missed my muse doing this even if I know juggling three fics is terrible. Hating work is good for creativity... yay.... fucking loan to the paint crew.
Yes, that does in fact mean I'm already essentially ready to start working on the next update. holly fuck I missed my muse doing this even if I know juggling three fics is terrible. Hating work is good for creativity... yay.... fucking loan to the paint crew.
Fencer
Writer
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Fuck yes! That means I get to run with the extra fun version I was plotting! 🤩
Windborne
Devourer of Stories
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It's been a while for me too, but I think not. Though yes Harry did inherit I think it was just something he wasn't allowed to attend because Dumbles said he couldn't and everyone went along with it. The last 3 books were kind of a dumpster fire.
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Turns out book 6 is on kindle unlimited so I grabbed it to check.
I thought of you when I read this quote from "Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince" by J.K. Rowling, Mary GrandPré -
""Well, Harry," said Dumbledore, turning toward him, "a difficulty has arisen which I hope you will be able to solve for us. By us, I mean the Order of the Phoenix. But first of all I must tell you that Sirius's will was discovered a week ago and that he left you everything he owned." Over on the sofa, Uncle Vernon's head turned, but Harry did not look at him, nor could he think of anything to say except, "Oh. Right." "This is, in the main, fairly straightforward," Dumbledore went on. "You add a reasonable amount of gold to your account at Gringotts, and you inherit all of Sirius's personal possessions. The slightly problematic part of the legacy —" "His godfather's dead?" said Uncle Vernon loudly from the sofa. Dumbledore and Harry both turned to look at him. The glass of mead was now knocking quite insistently on the side of Vernon's head; he attempted to beat it away. "He's dead? His godfather?" "Yes," said Dumbledore. He did not ask Harry why he had not confided in the Dursleys. "Our problem," he continued to Harry, as if there had been no interruption, "is that Sirius also left you number twelve, Grimmauld Place." "He's been left a house?" said Uncle Vernon greedily, his small eyes narrowing, but nobody answered him. "You can keep using it as headquarters," said Harry. "I don't care. You can have it, I don't really want it." Harry never wanted to set foot in number twelve, Grimmauld Place again if he could help it. He thought he would be haunted forever by the memory of Sirius prowling its dark musty rooms alone, imprisoned within the place he had wanted so desperately to leave. "That is generous," said Dumbledore. "We have, however, vacated the building temporarily." "Why?" "Well," said Dumbledore, ignoring the mutterings of Uncle Vernon, who was now being rapped smartly over the head by the persistent glass of mead, "Black family tradition decreed that the house was handed down the direct line, to the next male with the name of 'Black.' Sirius was the very last of the line as his younger brother, Regulus, predeceased him and both were childless. While his will makes it perfectly plain that he wants you to have the house, it is nevertheless possible that some spell or enchantment has been set upon the place to ensure that it cannot be owned by anyone other than a pureblood." A vivid image of the shrieking, spitting portrait of Sirius's mother that hung in the hall of number twelve, Grimmauld Place flashed into Harry's mind. "I bet there has," he said. "Quite," said Dumbledore. "And if such an enchantment exists, then the ownership of the house is most likely to pass to the eldest of Sirius's living relatives, which would mean his cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange." Without realizing what he was doing, Harry sprang to his feet; the telescope and trainers in his lap rolled across the floor. Bellatrix Lestrange, Sirius's killer, inherit his house? "No," he said. "Well, obviously we would prefer that she didn't get it either," said Dumbledore calmly. "The situation is fraught with complications. We do not know whether the enchantments we ourselves have placed upon it, for example, making it Unplottable, will hold now that ownership has passed from Sirius's hands. It might be that Bellatrix will arrive on the doorstep at any moment. Naturally we had to move out until such time as we have clarified the position." "But how are you going to find out if I'm allowed to own it?" "Fortunately," said Dumbledore, "there is a simple test." He placed his empty glass on a small table beside his chair, but before he could do anything else, Uncle Vernon shouted, "Will you get these ruddy things off us?" Harry looked around; all three of the Dursleys were cowering with their arms over their heads as their glasses bounced up and down on their skulls, their contents flying everywhere. "Oh, I'm so sorry," said Dumbledore politely, and he raised his wand again. All three glasses vanished. "But it would have been better manners to drink it, you know." It looked as though Uncle Vernon was bursting with any number of unpleasant retorts, but he merely shrank back into the cushions with Aunt Petunia and Dudley and said nothing, keeping his small piggy eyes on Dumbledore's wand. "You see," Dumbledore said, turning back to Harry and again speaking as though Uncle Vernon had not uttered, "if you have indeed inherited the house, you have also inherited —" He flicked his wand for a fifth time. There was a loud crack, and a house-elf appeared, with a snout for a nose, giant bat's ears, and enormous bloodshot eyes, crouching on the Dursleys' shag carpet and covered in grimy rags. Aunt Petunia let out a hair-raising shriek; nothing this filthy had entered her house in living memory. Dudley drew his large, bare, pink feet off the floor and sat with them raised almost above his head, as though he thought the creature might run up his pajama trousers, and Uncle Vernon bellowed, "What the hell is that?" "Kreacher," finished Dumbledore. "Kreacher won't, Kreacher won't, Kreacher won't!" croaked the house-elf, quite as loudly as Uncle Vernon, stamping his long, gnarled feet and pulling his ears. "Kreacher belongs to Miss Bellatrix, oh yes, Kreacher belongs to the Blacks, Kreacher wants his new mistress, Kreacher won't go to the Potter brat, Kreacher won't, won't, won't —" "As you can see, Harry," said Dumbledore loudly, over Kreacher's continued croaks of "won't, won't, won't," "Kreacher is showing a certain reluctance to pass into your ownership." "I don't care," said Harry again, looking with disgust at the writhing, stamping house-elf. "I don't want him." "Won't, won't, won't, won't —" "You would prefer him to pass into the ownership of Bellatrix Lestrange? Bearing in mind that he has lived at the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix for the past year?" "Won't, won't, won't, won't —" Harry stared at Dumbledore. He knew that Kreacher could not be permitted to go and live with Bellatrix Lestrange, but the idea of owning him, of having responsibility for the creature that had betrayed Sirius, was repugnant. "Give him an order," said Dumbledore. "If he has passed into your ownership, he will have to obey. If not, then we shall have to think of some other means of keeping him from his rightful mistress." "Won't, won't, won't, WON'T!" Kreacher's voice had risen to a scream. Harry could think of nothing to say, except, "Kreacher, shut up!" It looked for a moment as though Kreacher was going to choke. He grabbed his throat, his mouth still working furiously, his eyes bulging. After a few seconds of frantic gulping, he threw himself face forward onto the carpet (Aunt Petunia whimpered) and beat the floor with his hands and feet, giving himself over to a violent, but entirely silent, tantrum. "Well, that simplifies matters," said Dumbledore cheerfully. "It seems that Sirius knew what he was doing. You are the rightful owner of number twelve, Grimmauld Place and of Kreacher.""
Start reading this book for free: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince
""Well, Harry," said Dumbledore, turning toward him, "a difficulty has arisen which I hope you will be able to solve for us. By us, I mean the Order of the Phoenix. But first of all I must tell you that Sirius's will was discovered a week ago and that he left you everything he owned." Over on the sofa, Uncle Vernon's head turned, but Harry did not look at him, nor could he think of anything to say except, "Oh. Right." "This is, in the main, fairly straightforward," Dumbledore went on. "You add a reasonable amount of gold to your account at Gringotts, and you inherit all of Sirius's personal possessions. The slightly problematic part of the legacy —" "His godfather's dead?" said Uncle Vernon loudly from the sofa. Dumbledore and Harry both turned to look at him. The glass of mead was now knocking quite insistently on the side of Vernon's head; he attempted to beat it away. "He's dead? His godfather?" "Yes," said Dumbledore. He did not ask Harry why he had not confided in the Dursleys. "Our problem," he continued to Harry, as if there had been no interruption, "is that Sirius also left you number twelve, Grimmauld Place." "He's been left a house?" said Uncle Vernon greedily, his small eyes narrowing, but nobody answered him. "You can keep using it as headquarters," said Harry. "I don't care. You can have it, I don't really want it." Harry never wanted to set foot in number twelve, Grimmauld Place again if he could help it. He thought he would be haunted forever by the memory of Sirius prowling its dark musty rooms alone, imprisoned within the place he had wanted so desperately to leave. "That is generous," said Dumbledore. "We have, however, vacated the building temporarily." "Why?" "Well," said Dumbledore, ignoring the mutterings of Uncle Vernon, who was now being rapped smartly over the head by the persistent glass of mead, "Black family tradition decreed that the house was handed down the direct line, to the next male with the name of 'Black.' Sirius was the very last of the line as his younger brother, Regulus, predeceased him and both were childless. While his will makes it perfectly plain that he wants you to have the house, it is nevertheless possible that some spell or enchantment has been set upon the place to ensure that it cannot be owned by anyone other than a pureblood." A vivid image of the shrieking, spitting portrait of Sirius's mother that hung in the hall of number twelve, Grimmauld Place flashed into Harry's mind. "I bet there has," he said. "Quite," said Dumbledore. "And if such an enchantment exists, then the ownership of the house is most likely to pass to the eldest of Sirius's living relatives, which would mean his cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange." Without realizing what he was doing, Harry sprang to his feet; the telescope and trainers in his lap rolled across the floor. Bellatrix Lestrange, Sirius's killer, inherit his house? "No," he said. "Well, obviously we would prefer that she didn't get it either," said Dumbledore calmly. "The situation is fraught with complications. We do not know whether the enchantments we ourselves have placed upon it, for example, making it Unplottable, will hold now that ownership has passed from Sirius's hands. It might be that Bellatrix will arrive on the doorstep at any moment. Naturally we had to move out until such time as we have clarified the position." "But how are you going to find out if I'm allowed to own it?" "Fortunately," said Dumbledore, "there is a simple test." He placed his empty glass on a small table beside his chair, but before he could do anything else, Uncle Vernon shouted, "Will you get these ruddy things off us?" Harry looked around; all three of the Dursleys were cowering with their arms over their heads as their glasses bounced up and down on their skulls, their contents flying everywhere. "Oh, I'm so sorry," said Dumbledore politely, and he raised his wand again. All three glasses vanished. "But it would have been better manners to drink it, you know." It looked as though Uncle Vernon was bursting with any number of unpleasant retorts, but he merely shrank back into the cushions with Aunt Petunia and Dudley and said nothing, keeping his small piggy eyes on Dumbledore's wand. "You see," Dumbledore said, turning back to Harry and again speaking as though Uncle Vernon had not uttered, "if you have indeed inherited the house, you have also inherited —" He flicked his wand for a fifth time. There was a loud crack, and a house-elf appeared, with a snout for a nose, giant bat's ears, and enormous bloodshot eyes, crouching on the Dursleys' shag carpet and covered in grimy rags. Aunt Petunia let out a hair-raising shriek; nothing this filthy had entered her house in living memory. Dudley drew his large, bare, pink feet off the floor and sat with them raised almost above his head, as though he thought the creature might run up his pajama trousers, and Uncle Vernon bellowed, "What the hell is that?" "Kreacher," finished Dumbledore. "Kreacher won't, Kreacher won't, Kreacher won't!" croaked the house-elf, quite as loudly as Uncle Vernon, stamping his long, gnarled feet and pulling his ears. "Kreacher belongs to Miss Bellatrix, oh yes, Kreacher belongs to the Blacks, Kreacher wants his new mistress, Kreacher won't go to the Potter brat, Kreacher won't, won't, won't —" "As you can see, Harry," said Dumbledore loudly, over Kreacher's continued croaks of "won't, won't, won't," "Kreacher is showing a certain reluctance to pass into your ownership." "I don't care," said Harry again, looking with disgust at the writhing, stamping house-elf. "I don't want him." "Won't, won't, won't, won't —" "You would prefer him to pass into the ownership of Bellatrix Lestrange? Bearing in mind that he has lived at the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix for the past year?" "Won't, won't, won't, won't —" Harry stared at Dumbledore. He knew that Kreacher could not be permitted to go and live with Bellatrix Lestrange, but the idea of owning him, of having responsibility for the creature that had betrayed Sirius, was repugnant. "Give him an order," said Dumbledore. "If he has passed into your ownership, he will have to obey. If not, then we shall have to think of some other means of keeping him from his rightful mistress." "Won't, won't, won't, WON'T!" Kreacher's voice had risen to a scream. Harry could think of nothing to say, except, "Kreacher, shut up!" It looked for a moment as though Kreacher was going to choke. He grabbed his throat, his mouth still working furiously, his eyes bulging. After a few seconds of frantic gulping, he threw himself face forward onto the carpet (Aunt Petunia whimpered) and beat the floor with his hands and feet, giving himself over to a violent, but entirely silent, tantrum. "Well, that simplifies matters," said Dumbledore cheerfully. "It seems that Sirius knew what he was doing. You are the rightful owner of number twelve, Grimmauld Place and of Kreacher.""
Start reading this book for free: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince
It is canon.
Edit: bleh. Copy and paste on phone ripped out all formatting. Sorry but I'm to lazy to manually fix all that.
Last edited:
Fencer
Writer
- Location
- 2nd shift
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Lucky me I'll probably need to re read 6… on the other hand maybe I'll just go digging through my favorites list for HP fics
Dude… you are a legend. Sadly now I have to go with my other version and it's going to need some serious tweaking, but I really do appreciate this and you are a Legend.
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That 5 minutes of effort has been the most ive used my kindle unlimited subscription in a few months. I use it a few times a year, it's mostly used by my brother for coloring books for my niece.