Title: Gryffindor’s Champion
Fandom/Characters: Harry Potter; female Harry, OMC, Amelia Bones, the Sorting Hat, Fawkes
Genre: drama, genderbent
Warnings: minor character death (but only one that Joanne killed anyway so, ya know) and some blood and gross stuff that comes from stabbing things as well as possession and blood sacrifice. So, canon-typical stuff for the children’s books!
Notes: Vincent DeLeon is Ron Perlman and Amelia Bones is Lena Headey. The Sorting Hat plays himself.
Word Count: 976
Synopsis: Anecdotal evidence suggests that drawing a weapon from anything but a sheath or stand — should have rather more impact than Dumbledore originally explained.
Eleanor watched the wound on her arm close, preferring the sight of her flesh knitting to the gruesome scene nearby.
“Thanks, Fawkes,” Ellie said softly. “For everything.” Her hand was slick with gore and remained firmly on the sword Fawkes had brought.
The phoenix trilled, fluffing his crest. She managed a grin, and carefully didn’t look beyond the bird to where Percy Weasley lay in a heap, his hair a match to Fawkes.
Carefully didn’t remember red eyes in a freckled face, a low drawl demanding, gloating, uttering ugly promises. Didn’t look at the bruises on her wrists where the possessed boy had dragged her down into the Chamber —
Violently shaking away those memories, she asked, “What now?”
Chirping, Fawkes nodded his head at the blade she held. Ellie studied it; it was far too light for its size and fit her hand easily even though she doubted people made swords the right size for a very short second year.
the one meant to wield the sword shall wield the sword
Ellie set the sword on the ground. “I’ve had enough of possessed magical things for today, thanks,” she managed, glancing at the destroyed book Percy —
Fawkes set the Sorting Hat by her knee, and the ragged brim opened. “I commend your caution, Ms Potter — sadly, the late Mr Weasley did not share it — but would remind you that not all objects with a voice are possessed.”
“Is it — safe?”
“Well, it is a sharp weapon designed to kill.”
She laughed, a little hysterically, and looked over at the dead basilisk. “No kidding.” Since the Hat was in a position to know, Ellie lifted the sword again. “Hello?”
look to the blade for answers
The whisper in her head — magic, honestly — was deep and rumbled like thunder distant thunder. She angled the blade, swiping her filthy sleeve along the flat side. Were those words?
The etched letters were unreadable at first, then twisted and realigned into something she could recognize.
WHOSO SHEDDETH THINE ENEMIES BLOOD AND THINE OWN BLOOD AND BLEEDS OF GODRIC’S LINE SHALL BE EVER GRYFFINDOR’S CHAMPION
The Hat chuckled. “A problem for another day. For now — the Sword of Gryffindor is aware, though not alive, and no one may part it from you as you have blooded it with your own blood and that of a foe.”
“‘Cause that’s not weird —” and wiped away a sudden tear. “Oh, Merlin — I killed Percy!”
“I rather think the snake was a greater threat.”
“He — he was going to — he said he was Tom, and a blood sacrifice would make it permanent and —” she shuddered, “he was Voldemort. And I — oh, Merlin, I need — I need the police — and a lawyer! I killed him, they’ll send me to prison or expel me!”
“One would negate the need to do the other,” the Hat soothed, “and it’s quite doubtful, though the sensibility of wixen is rather suspect at times. Fawkes? If you would?”
“I didn’t want to,” she whispered. “But he just — and he took my wand, and knocked out Neville before we could tell the teachers where the Chamber was —”
“Bloody phoenix! Albus, what — great gods and goddesses!”
Ellie looked up to find a man and woman standing above her, a smug-looking phoenix hovering above them. The lady wore dueling robes far more practical and well-worn than Lockhart’s and the man was huge and looked like a lion animagi who got stuck part way. They were both gaping at the Chamber and it’s bloody scene.
“I’m sorry!” Ellie choked out. “I didn’t mean it! But Hermione was petrified and the monster was a Basilisk and we realized where the Chamber was but Percy came and, he was possessed by Tom! And he brought me here — and then he called the snake and Fawkes brought the Hat and it had the sword —”
Amelia Bones looked away from the carcass of the biggest snake she’d ever heard of to stare down at — bloody hell, the Girl Who Lived, splattered in blood and slime and Merlin knew what else, holding the Sword of Gryffindor of all things, and turned to Vincent DeLeon. Who, for the first time in thirty years, looked utterly gobsmacked.
“And I had to kill him but I didn’t mean to! Because Percy was Tom and Tom was Voldemort and he —”
DeLeon crouched down, and without his bulk in the way she could see a thirteen-point circle marked on the ground beneath the ugliest statue she’d ever seen. Thirteen for blood sacrifice, Amelia noted absently, and realized the body lying near it was one of Arthur’s sons.
“Take a deep breath, child — good,” DeLeon soothed. Shock and a little hysteria and who could blame her. She needed a healer, and Amelia needed to get a team of Aurors here — an Unspeakable as well. She should have pushed the issue of Hogwarts months ago, but both Fudge and Dumbledore had used their political power to block all interference.
“I don’t want to go to prison,” Potter whispered.
“I assure you, that won’t happen,” Vincent offered. “I’m a Chief Judiciary of the Wizengamot.”
“I don’t want to get expelled, either.”
The girl was going to get the damned Order of Merlin if Amelia had anything to say about it.
“That won’t happen, either. I don’t suppose you know where we are?”
She sniffed and rubbed a scrape on her cheek. “The Chamber of Secrets. The entrance is in the girl’s toilet. But it’s a long walk — maybe Fawkes can get us out?”
“Excellent idea,” Amelia stated and eyed the bird. “St Mungos, please, this girl needs a healer.”
“I’m okay — Fawkes healed the bite.”
Vincent paled. “Hospital — now.”