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HP: Eagle Soars

Magnus died,. However, instead of the expected afterlife, he found himself in a fictional world as a nine years old orphan with magic. ‘Now, how do I deal with magical fascists who would enjoy pulling a blitzkrieg on my blood, immortal noseless half-bloods with daddy issues, soul-sucking amortal abominations and a ferret whose father will hear about it?’ This is the story of his adventures, ambitions and love life for those who can’t help but intrude on other people’s privacy.

SHEOGORATH · Book&Literature
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97 Chs

Chapter 23: I don’t do pity.

( Note: I dedicate this chapter to those who are oppressed, from Palestine to Ukraine and all those whose rights were taken away. May the cheese be with them)

Adaptability.

Of all the human virtues, varied in their scarcity as they are, it was this one which allowed us the privileges of unfathomable growths.

It wasn't our doom-driven stubbornness, nor our veritably insatiable ambitions, and certainly not our occasional mercies. But this one, sometimes downplayed, occasionally loaded quality of us sons of Adam that granted us supremacy over all things mortal; in both magic and mundane worlds.

So was it that surprising that your truly, aware as I am, sought out adaptability over even the exalted virtues of wisdom and logic?

Though it was admittedly no hard task, given the sheer versatility of what the sensible wizard might accomplish with a modicum of material and some hard work, if he has the proper affinities.

Then again, I always found value in the rare and useful, which is why I started one more potentially disastrous endeavour I should have no business even contemplating for at least a few more years.

Doing so has become something of a habit, when I think about it…inconsequential.

Extensive thinking should never stop one from appreciating the simple pleasures of life, and a walk through the cold stone walls of the castle in my lonesome was certainly something I enjoyed.

The elemental nature of Scotland's weather did not hinder me in the slightest, not anymore that is. And coupled by the sight of mighty towers, flying candles levitating idly in the wonderfully high ceiling which gave the mind-numbing sight of a crimson-starred sky…it only sublimed the moment.

'Such things are part of the Hogwarts experience, aren't they' I thought as the slightest of smiles, rare in their honesty, appeared on my face.

However, such expressions were becoming an increasingly abundant commodity as of late, curtesy of one Scottish teacher who somehow wormed her way into my heart.

It was hard not to let her in, when genuine care and honest to god appreciation were offered in plenty. Doubly so when these ministrations were given in the kind of selfless, almost instinctive fashion that could bypass even the most intricate of defences and force you into natural reciprocation.

'I am certainly not complaining.' I thought, passing by the portrait of Fredrickk of Vlandia, who was currently sharpening his axe and praising the lands of euthanasia…stranger things have been heard of within these walls.

The bearded warrior, among many others, were landmark used by the observant to find the Ravenclaw tower, where I was to meet up with miss Patil. The girl was someone I came to appreciate, and whose friendship I consider most precious…

Though I wouldn't tell her such things, wouldn't want her to get a big head, now do we?

"Two in a corner, one in a room, none in a house yet one in a shelter." Spoke the bronze eagle, whose enchantments were here to remind that I had a long way to go.

'If all the things in this castle, and many of its inhabitant weren't enough of a reminder.' I thought, but quickly dismissed the misplaced revulsion at my perceived inadequacies.

There was nothing more pitiful than a man wallowing in self-pity, after all.

And I don't do pity.

"The letter R." I answered, an open door was the only answer I needed.

However, all satisfaction I could have felt at answering one of the eagle's lovely questions went to waste. It couldn't subsist, when I saw just what was happening within the walls of my oh so lovely house.

"What is loony, couldn't find your shoes?" Asked the disgustingly sweet voice of some Asian girl I recognised as a third year.

'Cho Chang' my mind supplied me with a name I could put on the admittedly pretty face, a notable character that once more proved that appearances could be deceiving.

…and that being in a children's book didn't offer one moral high ground once it became reality.

A bunch of hyenas from all years and genders laughed at her jokes, flocking around the rather popular student who was herself enjoying some time with an older Ravenclaw she was obviously more than a little friendly with despite their attempts at discretion.

This merry band of cowards, were currently mocking a bare footed little blonde with eyes filled with unshed tears. The child was but a first year, and I could probably recognise her from memory alone, though I didn't bother with it as much as I looked for signs of harm or discomfort. Physical abuse was very possible with the kind of pests I was dealing with, and the number of boys made their extent even higher.

How wonderful!

"May I know what, exactly, you think you are doing?" I asked, wand at the ready but kept hidden, just like Professor McGonagall taught me.

My voice might have been level, and no hostility could have been detected, yet the students were more than little disconcerted by my intervention. Chang's not so little boyfriend even stopped levitating the little girl's books, making them fall on the ground with a heavy sound that only served to unnerve them further.

'Perhaps the remnants of their fickle morality noticed how wrong the situation is?' I hoped, weaving plan after plan to resolve this situation.

"Relax Arran, we're just having some fun with loony." Answered the fifth-year boy with a nasty touching little girls habit, an easy smile on his face.

'Roger Davies' I named the offender, whose words calmed the crowd of craven, befitting of his station in the house. He was the captain of the Quidditch team and the current leader of the political domain of house Ravenclaw.

In short, an arsehole of considerable influence.

"Oh, may I join in?" I asked, a rather pleasant way of retribution formed itself in my mind.

My words brought terror to the face of the young girl, who was becoming increasingly more desperate for help. I felt bad for this charade, but beyond all ironies, the tactical value is too great to be ignored.

In contrast, the other students positively beamed, none of them more than Davies himself. Doubtlessly thinking about the political implication of the most gifted student, notoriously neutral in all squabbles, seemingly supporting him publicly.

"Sure thing, it's all harmless fun." He laughed graciously, licking his own rectum in ways that would make Lockhart proud.

I waved my wand with practised ease, enjoying the oblivious looks they shot me beyond surprise at the lack of incantations. This allowed me more privacy to do as I wish with the poor buggers, whose honour was as lacking as their supposed wisdom.

Needless to say, a disarming charm followed by an immediate summoning spell was not what they expected.

"What are you doing!" shouted a discombobulated Davies, no one quite understanding the situation yet.

A few stinging hexes were my answers, leaving a nasty mark on his chest for certain. I disarmed the few idiots who thought that an intervention was wise, they stood no chance for they lacked both preparation and skill.

'Fools, can't they recognise a lost battle?' I couldn't help but wonder, couldn't they see the pointlessness of this all? So much for the house of the wise…

"I'm just having fun." I smiled, enjoying every bit of terror and pain I could inflict him. "I admit, I was bit sceptical at first, but your idea of fun can be very enjoyable indeed."

"Stop this!" he shouted, between moans and harmless curses, as I was hit with a wave of déjà vu.

It was only exacerbated by the coming of our head of house, who heard the shouts and screams of the older boy.

"What is happening?!" He shouted, his voice amplified with magic and putting an end to the cacophony our little…altercation, had caused within the common rooms.

The half goblin looked from me to the moaning before settling on the barefooted girl with dried tears, kneeling on the ground as she gathered her things.

Realisation seemed to flash in his mind, before being replaced with anger and a fair bit of shame, and the claws soon realised that they were very much fucked.

"Explain." He told me, his voice oddly level as I sheathed my wand, giving him the one I took from my disgraced opponent.

A long explanation later, which was interrupted by many a pale, two-faced raven who seemed to think they held any right at protesting, we were sent out as he received the little girl in his study for a much-needed conversation.

The outcome was the loss of all our points, hard earned as they were, many detentions which I was understandably not exempt of even if I got off lighter than my housemates. The return of all of the bullied girl's possessions and multiple notifications sent to the parents of the bullies.

Taking advantage of a young student, while using magic at that, was simply not condemned in this school. Particularly when the student was a female pureblood, for obvious reasons.

Wizarding culture, albeit backward in many aspects, had the advantage of traditionalist's values which offered much protection and care to children and women.

Offspring was scarce, and magic a rare gift, so the new generations were cherished beyond measure by even the darkest wizards. It was yet another reason to fear Voldemort and his death eaters, for they were hardly above the murder of children during war time; something even Grindelwald was too good to even consider as a strategy.

It made the bullying of the little girl a sensible matter the school could simply not ignore, and likely to put much papers in the desks of Dumbledore and Flitwick. And my own detentions, given for misuse of magic and attack of another student, seen as an injustice for my chivalrous and gallant behaviour even if they were light punishment in principle.

All I cared about though, was that McGonagall seemed to approve of my actions once my reasons were explained.

I got to torment a bully, help a little girl and please my favourite person. What else could I ask for?

"Have some more chicken." I said, filling my new companion's plate with the delicious, healthy meal the elves prepared with care.

"Thank you." She said, giving me a curt smile. "It won't make me grow feathers, would it? Daddy said that we are what we eat."

"I do not think so." I answered, repressing a chuckle at Padma successful attempts at understanding my little friend's psyche "But would it be so bad to have feathers?"

"No, but I don't think it would suit me." She smiled dreamily "But you certainly would like it."

When I asked her why, a giggle was my only answer. The little chipmunk was a living mystery of the most adorable kind, one I had neither the will nor the desire to uncover. She was genuine in her eccentricity, and had a novel and rather amusing way of perceiving the world. I had no right to deny her this vision, though i did not share it, but i enjoyed what she shared with me very much.

I was now friend with Luna Lovegood.

"Pumpkin juice is gross." She complained, after trying a small gulp of the disgusting beverage.

"Preach."

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Hey guys! It's Uncle Sheo! Didn't expect me, now did ya?

A small chapter i wanted to write, filled with some character building and development all the while expending the cast. The fanfic is lacking in good dialogues, though the inspiration isn't lacking, this shall remedy to it in time.

It's becoming a tradition for Magnus to manhandle some Ravenclaw, though he aimed a bit higher this time!

For those who live in a cave, good luck. For those who don't but don't know that Luna is not the love interest...well, now you know.

Magnus has always been fleur bleu, a trait a share. Sur ce...

Peace and Cheese!