Contract Creature

Chapter Ten - Confrontation

Severus Snape was in a foul mood, here he was at a dance on the day of romance, having to chaperone hormone incensed students that had no sense enough to tell the difference between beetle eyes and a lizard tail. Talm wasn't anywhere to be seen, though he had a mental link with her so knew she was fine, and that the Fairy Prince was lurking around somewhere waiting to pounce on his wife. Mentally, he made sure that a thread of magic was attached to his weapons rack to duel the foolish boy that Talm had fondly called 'Twinkletoes'.

While Snape was calculating how much he would get on severed Fairy Prince limbs on the black market, and his wife was doubled over laughing at his plans. Recently cured werewolf, Remus Lupin, made his way over to the Potions master's side.

"Evening, Severus." The surly tall dark man grunted. "Why so glum? Miss your wife?" Dumbledore took the opportunity to congratulate the Elderdragon consort.

"Outstanding work, Severus! You're a shoo-in for potion of the year, the ministries already issuing the wolfsbane cure to all registered lycanthropes. It's brilliant! How did you calculate to return the wolf to just animagus form and the humans to retain super senses?" Snape quirked an eyebrow.

"As you can guess, I happened to have help from the infamous Eralis." Lupin coughed and Dumbledore grinned. "Were you aware, Albus, that Prince Orion has made an appearance to propose to one of our students?" The old warlock heaved an exasperated humph.

"Won't take no as an answer, that one. What will you do?" Severus merely sneered.

"Me? I shall merely dance with my lovely wife carrying my unborn child. If she'll get rid of the invisibility spell." Talm giggled and appeared beside her husband. "Will it be too stressful for you? You're carrying quite a bit of weight around." She beamed up at him, fully using the pregnant glow of beauty to cast away his gloom.

"And then we can send Prince Orion to Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, once he understands that under no terms am I to leave you. Though I'm actually looking forward to a duel." Her husband offered his arm to her.

"The foolish boy will certainly challenge my claim, I polished the blades last night. I name you as my second should I fail." Talm chuckled and kissed his cheek.

"A waltz, yes?"

Severus led his other half to the dance floor, both purposefully paying no notice to the stares of the student body. Talm's belly protruded in its glamour free curve and the greasy Potions teacher had abandoned his intimidating guise, cleaning up to be the debonair and dashing man that the romantics at Witch Weekly had painted of the spy. The flash of matching wedding rings further confounded their audience, was Snape waltzing with his wife or niece? The compliment of their dress robes was obvious enough to label them as a couple: Severus with sharply silver-accented black robes and Talm with black-accented molten silver. The heir grinned up at her husband, looked at the open doorway to see 'Twinkletoes', throwing a jaunty wink over to her nephew standing far from his ex-girlfriend with a cookie-munching Iri perched on shoulder. Sev pressed against her cheek-to-cheek, careful of her curved abdomen.

"Why do I have the feeling you'll enjoy me fighting for you?"

"Because you know I will." Talm basked in Severus' spicy aftershave and warmth, anticipating the dramatic shout of a vain man that spent too much of his childhood babysat by Puck. She didn't need to look up to know Severus was wearing a feral smirk, parting from his embrace, she wanted to slap palm of hand to forehead at Orion's cheesy romance-novel-worthy golden boy pose. "Pop his over-inflated ego, don't maim him too much. His mother hasn't quite cut him off the apron strings, she'll raise hell if her baby's looks can't carry him through life anymore." Severus responded by thoroughly kissing her to the frustration of Orion, and Draco's source of amusement, knowing it was choreographed to communicate in a way even the Fairy Prince would comprehend - 'Talm was taken.' Unfortunately, Prince Orion wasn't used to accepting 'no' to anything he wanted, and he brandished the roses at hand.

"Are you deaf? I challenge you, knave, for Talm Dragonveille's hand!" Eliciting the predictable gasps and exclamations from the womenfolk. Severus stepped forward and wandlessly summoned a flat disk of light that would spit out his weapon, the cynic drawled out in a bored lilt.

"One, I am not a knave, you would be more accurately described thus. Two, Talm Dragonveille's hand rightfully mine. Three, you happen to be quite late, she's carry my unborn of six months."

"You are despicable! She is better suited for me, rather than a senile fool who forces himself on maidens of virtue." Orion's opponent could barely hold off a smile at Talm's mental note.

'I'll show you virtue, pansy boy.' The darker man drew a long sword out from the glowing disk.

"Well, come on then." Orion left the bouquet of roses on the dance floor, swiped up by frantic girls, and unsheathed a rapier and dropped too low in en garde, much too used to dramatic entrances and courtly charm to polish on his skill, Oberon would have smacked the back of his son's dense skull. Yet, somewhere in the centuries of lessons with the finest sword masters, Orion had more than average skills. Severus was just better.

Frantic fiddling and graceful but ineffective slashes were blocked easily in losing interest. The young prince fell backwards under a swift forceful sweep of leg to the back of his knees, Orion's rapier separated into a handle and two useless splinters with the blurred hit and arc from Snape's blade. The Fairy Prince scuttled up when the Potions professor moved a stride back, resting hand on hip and flat of sword resting against black clad shoulder. The Fairy Prince repaired his broken rapier with a wave and pulled out a second foil.

"Hah!" Severus merely gripped his long sword with both hands, rotated in opposite directions and pulled to hold a short sword in each hand. Twinkletoes visibly gulped, almost all the male students not in Slytherin winced, the Slytherins merely watched eagerly, the Hogwarts staff snickered at the scene, and Colin Creevey trigger-snapped pausing only to change rolls of film. The Elderdragon consort adopted an evil Cheshire grin, twirling the lengths of metal expertly and undoubtedly fatally while strolling menacingly forwards.

"I don't like threats on my marriage, or me, for that matter. Got it?" The ground was littered with eight steel shards, Orion whimpered and nodded. "Hear any word of anyone else thinking to challenge my claim, send them directly after seven. I'll be happy to prove my worth and probably by then, show my newborn child." The Slytherin Head of House continued to glare at the humiliated royal, picking up pieces of his blades prior to fleeing in a rather polite exit omitting any thespian flair, then slid the weapons back into the disk, tucked his smiling wife's hand under his arm and stalked out of the spellbound crowd, waving off praise from colleagues and Slytherins. When gone, muttering grew into a deafening roar of praise, swearing and befuddled questions. Dumbledore yelled over to a content Remus standing beside.

"Severus sure knows how to leave an impression!" The past werewolf gave a flash of teeth and two thumbs up.

Talm dragged her husband down into a lip-lock a passageway down.

"Till this point, I've never realised how incredibly sexy you are when you're mean." Talm's husband smirked and increased speed to their chambers, inwardly blessing her hormones.

Chapter Eleven - Weapon

The real King of Giants occupied the clerk desk, drinking spiced mead in the chilly mountains of Kropwa der Tou Werpould. The Kropwa range was roughly called the Crown of the World in Britannic, was held high above Mount Olympus after the experiment of "floating rock" long ago spelled against the eyes of all adult muggles and most non-magical children. Ulrich mulled over the one of the two only latest turn of events that he was interested in amongst the magical world - Voldemort had been defeated, in a very disappointing flattening by perhaps four wizards, three males uncovered and known, a fourth not. The king shook his neatly trimmed head, the snake-possessed megalomaniac had pestered the decoy Giant King with great persistency, his half and full-Giant blooded brother had the audacity to agree with such twisted views. The real Giant King sat safe in a warm room doing paperwork, issuing orders of subterfuge to keep what population of the greatly feared monsters alive and decently healthy.

Ulrich's deceased father happened to have double as many wives as his two only living sons had combined, not all of gigantic descent either. Ulrich's mother had been of unusual large size amongst the witches and had produced the runt of his family, most of the daughters had lived but Ulrich had survived by turning his brothers against each other to escape. And so the runt had become the smartest, had achieved the throne with a rather simple task and bequeathed the fame and vain trappings to his eldest brother, leaving the power and glory minus the approaches of those wanting to kill him for the place. Ulrich's brother was burly enough to handle them, wanted to even.

The real Giant King sat and pondered upon his second interest, the appearance of a royal, one that was unquestioned in descent and authority. However, Ulrich was curious on how this being came into existence bearing the markings of his great-grandsire without anyone's knowledge. Ulrich questioned. He tried lying to himself, that this was an impostor bearing paints, contradicted in finality with the pictures and detailed description in reports and intercepted messages. Now the first priority query, was the Giant throne endangered? The second, was their allies thrones endangered? Yes. It was all too clear that this person was in perfect right and most likely ability, if her guardians had recognized the implications, of uniting all the races under one ragged empire. But did the 'Little One' want to wield the largest sceptre? How did she hold such blood? The puny man in comparison, standing languidly before Ulrich's brother down on the ground, held the answers.

"What do you want?" The rough English sounded like grinding of two stones.

"I'm selling information on her Highness, the 'Little One', for a price." Ulrich mused, this human was rather adventurous and in league with Lady Fortune, he wasn't even the slightest bit squished. The fanged necklace was a form of communication between Ulrich and his brother, a way to watch the court unseen, who received a slight warming in agreement to bargain with the sly wizard.

"Price?"

"The Staff of Baveptod." Shrieks and screams of terror wrenched from the children larger than the visitor, the adults stood in pale-faced fury. Ulrich sat back.

'So, the worthless human wishes to trade for a superstition of greed. Another Riddle.' Ulrich's brother was kept in the dark with the dim-witted and hoarsely roared.

"Why? The Staff of Death cannot be wielded by you!" The stranger smiled in an annoying superior curve of secret.

"Au contraire, I think I can manage." The fanged necklace warmed once more.

'Let the stupid mortal have a stick.' The decoy sovereign shook his head and ignored the heat.

"No." Ulrich stood up in rage. The fangs exploded in a show of brilliance, the real king would deal. A ray of light touched the man and he was instantly transported into Ulrich's room, the gasps of the Giants' amazement at their king's power to kill so easily what was a nuisance.

"You are?" Ulrich silently applauded the man's skill of accepting situation so quickly.

"A clerk, the king doesn't believe you worthy of his time. You offered information on the 'Little One'?"

"And the staff?" Ulrich wanted to growl at the useless persistence.

"What need of you for the staff?" The man shrewdly smiled at the question.

"I have my reasons." Ulrich extracted the staff from above his mantle.

"Satisfied?"

"No. Nevertheless, it is payment." He reached.

"Information first." The visitor frowned deeply.

"Place it on the ground between us then." Ulrich did, and waited. The man's lips twisted into a hideous snarl.

"The 'Little One' is named Talm Dragonveille, you'll find her at Hogwarts. Be wary. Learn from the folly of the Fairy Prince." With that, the man snatched up the staff, that was two feet taller than him and disappeared with a pop, probably to find more buyers. Ulrich wrote down, what the sharp-faced blond wizard had stated, before he forgot.