Harry Potter and the Child of Tourach

a/n well one review is certainly better than nothing, thanks BLZF. Warning: mild bondage and food ahead, enjoy!


Less then thirty seconds later, Harry was sitting on Ron and Hermione’s couch, now once again free to move and to talk. His three companions had been riddling him with question from the moment on they had stormed into the room, but he had told them that he needed a few minutes to sort through the new sea of knowledge in his brain. After a few minutes he had finally found the information he had been looking for.

“I have found out how Tourach wanted to stop the contest forever.” he said, beaming. “Crosis’ assumption that they were trapped in artificial pocket planes was correct. Tourach knew that all four of them were immortal and that he was not strong enough to defeat one of the others and certainly not all three of them. So he designed these fascinating planes. They keep any life form trapped by not transferring it completely to them, but only to sixty percent. So the victim is part of his origin plane and the new one at the same time. This renders it unable to move, raise power and even to think.”

“A force field prevents it from getting damaged by the chaos which exists between the planes and also stabilizes the pocket plane. However this requires gigantic amounts of energy. Therefore the force field taps the energy of the trapped being to keep itself up. Naturally only very powerful creatures with very fast energy regeneration are able to feed the field forever and that’s why this method does not work on ordinary mortals.”

Astonished silence followed his explanation. Ron was wondering what the heck had Harry had just said, Ginny had decided to leave the thinking about this new information to Hermione, after all she was the brain of the group and instead thought about what her husband had probably seen during his trip. Hermione had divulged Harry’s information and was in the middle of calculating how much energy was required to create the artificial planes.

“So he trapped the three combatants one by one, right?” asked Ginny after a while, finally breaking the silence that had settled on the room.
“Yes.” replied Harry. “During a combat pause he met with each of them at a forsaken place and always was able to cast the trapping spell on the unsuspecting leviathans. They usually were too surprised to do anything to save them.”
“But why did this Tourach guy freak out this badly that he created this complicated plan?” asked Ron. “This sounds like obscene amounts of work were necessary to develop this strange spell.”

Despite the seriousness of the conversation Harry found himself smiling at his best mates’ statement: only someone like Ron could call hard work obscene.
“I am not quite sure myself.” echoed Harry, after thinking for a few seconds. “The memories are kind of disarranged and sometimes blurry. I can only say that he hated it if innocents died due to the contest. I think he really got mad after Anhur incinerated a whole village during a battle without any particular reason to do so. Whatever it was, it must have been huge, after all he even trapped Shai and they had some kind of relationship going on.”

“That’s all really interesting.” said Ginny, impatiently. “But we still do not know how to stop them. Why did the spell fail the first time anyway?”
“I guess I know why.” replied Hermione, looking more than a bit pleased with herself. “He must have ignored the Whiteman-Effect!”
“And would you please be so kind and enlighten us poor people with our undersized brain capacity what the heck this is?” said Ron impatiently after Hermione had stared at the three of them expectantly.

Hermione pursed her lips at her boyfriend’s rudeness, but answered him nevertheless.
“Robert Whiteman was a genius! He wrote several disquisitions on the process of creating artificial planes and planes within planes, the so-called pocket planes, during the thirties of the past century. He even calculated how much magical energy would be required to create such a new plane, but failed to find a way how to stabilize it. Of course all of his work was theoretical and is not proven, but it may be helpful.”

“So far so good, but what about this effect?” asked Harry.
“I am coming to this.” replied Hermione smiling. “Whiteman’s theory was that the empty space between the planes, which would be filled by the creation of a new one, was not brimmed with no energy, but with anti-energy. He believed that if an energy quant and an anti-energy quant meet they would neutralize each other. So to create a new plane, one had to neutralize all of the anti-energy first, before one could actually form it. Tourach seems to have ignored this effect and therefore his plane was not complete. The anti-energy absorbed a part of his energy and due to this the plane was not completely formed and thereby not balanced. So it was only a matter of time before the plane collapsed, despite the constant energy supply.”

“So all we have to do is to cast Tourach’s spell again, but with more power behind it?” asked Harry, surprised that the solution seemed to be so simple.
“No that won’t work.” said Hermione pensively. “We would have to overwork it, so it neutralized the anti-energy first, before creating the plane, but unfortunately we do not have the arithmancy code of the spell and I am sure that it is impossible to create such complicated magic out of the blue.”

Gloomy silence settled on the room for a few seconds, before Harry started beaming, Hermione’s explanation having stirred a memory in him.
“No need to be so depressed, just get me lots of paper and a few pens and I will write the code down.”
“You remember it?” asked Hermione, wide eyed. “Oh this is going to be so interesting, just imaging how much we will be able to learn!”

Ginny and Ron rolled their eyes at her unchanging studious behaviour and quickly summoned heaps of paper and pens on the kitchen table. Harry got up from the couch and walked quickly in the kitchen, as though he feared the sudden loss of his new found knowledge. He sat down, furrowed his brows in a look of outmost concentration and started writing. Quickly a complicated arithmancy code started to form, a tangle of numbers and white spaces, which did not make any sense to anyone not trained in the subject. His friends looked over his shoulder, Hermione mesmerised at the code, Ginny worried because Harry was not writing in his own handwriting and Ron completely nonplussed at the whole thing.

After nearly three hours of writing, Harry was finished. More than forty pages of parchment were now ingrained with the code of an ancient spell and Hermione’s eyes were shining brightly with ecstasy. She picked the sheets up and gently brushed over them with her hand. Ron had stopped watching Harry writing a long time ago and was now readying a Quidditch magazine on the couch, while Ginny was looking at Harry with a frown on her face and chewing on her bottom lip.

“I think it may take some time to sort through these.” said Hermione brightly. “But at least it will be fun!”
Just as Ron and Ginny burst out laughing, Harry fell out of his chair, unconscious.


* * * * *


The soft whispers of concerned voices gently penetrated the veil of sleep, which had enshrouded Harry. His head hurt. In fact he could not remember ever having a headache this bad. Heck, even the enormous hangover he had had after his stag night was nothing compared to this! His whole body felt as heavy as lead and he had a strange metallic taste in his mouth. But what disturbed him most that he could not remember or imagine what he had done to be in this state. And to make things even worse, he was not lying in his own bed! The room around him was not even vaguely familiar, but this could be the result of both him not wearing his glasses or his syrupy flow of thoughts. Precisely in this moment a hand brushed against his face.

Auror instincts kicking in immediately, Harry propelled himself up from the bed in an instant. Cursing himself for not realising that someone had entered the room and still not able to see the attacker clearly in the dimly lit bedroom, he sent a wandless Impedimenta in the general direction of the intruder. A dull thud, accompanied by a yelp of surprise followed his move. Just as Harry started to close in, an angry voice changed everything.

“Damn it Harry, what the hell do you think you are doing?” said the intruder and Harry immediately realized that he had just attacked his wife.
“Ginny!” he gasped and was at her side in an instant. “I am so sorry, are you hurt? Can I somehow help you?”
“No, I do not think that I am hurt, but you could really do me a few favours.” she replied sounding irritated, but a bit mollified as well at his caring attitude. “First of all you could tell me why the hell you attacked me and what’s going on with you.”

“Sorry about that.” replied Harry sheepishly, now finding the whole episode rather funny after discovering that she was unharmed. “I woke up feeling disorientated, hurting and still can not remember a thing. Then you touched me and I somehow felt threatened. Auror training kicked in and I attacked you on pure instinct. Where are we anyway?”

Ginny groggily got up, picked Harry’s glasses up from the nightstand on which they had been sitting and handed them to him. He slipped them on and suddenly realized that they were sitting in Ron’s and Hermione’s bedroom, which they had shown Ginny and him when they had given them the tour shortly after moving into the flat. It suddenly made sense that he did not recognize it, one time was not nearly enough to be able to recognize a place with a headache and without glasses.

“Whatever happened?” he asked Ginny. “My head feels like someone was trying to crack it open with a sledgehammer.”
Sighing Ginny motioned him to sit next to her on the bed and told her about him taking the potion and what they had found out. Harry felt the pain in his brain deflate a bit and suddenly started to remember parts of the previous evening.
“Is Hermione already brooding over the spell?” asked Harry, rubbing his temple to clear the last bit of the pain away.
“She was, but Ron and she are just now getting something to eat, its nine o’clock in the morning after all.”

Suddenly Harry realized that Ginny was only wearing a nightgown, which seemed to be Hermione’s because it was too big to be Ginny’s. Praying that Ron and Hermione were taking their time, he captured her lips in a searing kiss.

* * * * *


A week later, Ron was coming home later from Quidditch training. His mind had not really been on goalkeeping, he had to think about the leviathans all the time. While he had not witnessed their destructiveness first hand, he had read the unofficial ministry reports Harry had organized them and what he had read made his blood run cold. Combined with his best friend’s stories about them Ron had come to the decision that he would prefer getting castrated with a cold butter knife over ever crossing these things. He shuddered when he thought about what the titans would do to Harry if he failed to entomb them again. The fact that all their hope was placed on an ancient and faulty spell, did not improve the situation at all.

Due to his absent mind, his performance today had been awful and the coach had made him do extra work long after the other members of the team had long left the pitch. Right now he was entering his flat, hungry, exhausted and slightly depressed.
“Honey, I am home.” he called, while slipping out of his shoes and putting down his sports bag. His brow furred when he realized that the rest of the apartment was shrouded in darkness and completely silent. Cursing softly under his breath, he slipped his wand out of his pocket and steeled himself for the worst.

He tiptoed deeper into the flat, every nerve in his body on edge. He entered the kitchen first, standing stock still for a moment. Nothing. No one was breathing in there except for him. Sighing in relief, Ron mentally kicked himself for not having learned to feel other people’s magical auras like Harry had. He could have told Ron in an instant if any intruder was in the flat. But Ron did not have this luxury and had to do it the hard way. He did not even the option to apparate to Harry to enrol his help, because time could be crucial here. As silently as possible, Ron crept to the other door of the kitchen and into the living room.

The unexpected brightness of it blinded him immediately after he had entered it. Knowing that he was an easy target at the moment, Ron cast a shield charm and rolled sideward to hide behind a flower pot. His heart was hammering like mad and he was steeling himself for the attack, which he knew would follow soon. But to his complete surprise nothing happened. No one screamed, no one cast a spell, no one moved. The silence in the apartment was nearly absolute. Confused Ron decided to risk a glimpse and with his now light accustomed eyes finally found out what was going on.

Hermione was sitting on a desk in the living room, which was littered with an abundance of parchment, sleeping with her head on the hard wood. The powerful muggle lamp on the desk was shining brightly, bathing the room in hard, artificial light. Sighing with relief and now feeling slightly silly for having reacted in this way, Ron pocketed his wand again and slowly walked over to his wife. Her bushy hair was even more tangled than usual and she had ink stains over most of her clothes and even on her face. He took a short glimpse at the papers lying on the desk in front of her. They were filled with endless columns of numbers and Ron guessed that she had worked on the imprisonment spell again. Unwilling to let her spent the night in a chair; Ron gently scooped her up in his arms, careful not to wake her.

A few minutes later, he had carried her to their bedroom and laid her down on the bed. She was heavier than she looked, but of course he would never tell her. Girls were a bit touchy on the subject of their weight, even if they looked good. Ron was not able to understand this at all, but he had long ago abandoned all hope that he would ever understand the female sex. Ginny and Harry seemed to understand each other perfectly and he briefly wondered how they did this. Knowing Harry and his abundance of strange abilities they had probably forged some kind of magical bond or something similar. Looking on the sprawled form of his sleeping wife on the bed, he decided to return to the task at hand.

For a while he contemplated about if he should simply transfigure her clothes into pyjamas or undress and change her manually. Smiling, he finally decided for the latter, considering it a lot more fun. He started with slowly pulling off her white shocks, leaving her dressed in tight blue jeans and a white tee shirt. Just as he was grabbing hold of the delicate belt keeping her trousers in place, she stirred and her eyes fluttered open.

“Ron.” she said, her voice thick with sleep. “You are home. What are you doing?”
“Undressing you.” he replied sheepishly. Hermione’s eyebrows shot up so high that they were about to disappear in her hair, so he decided to quickly continue explaining. “You fell asleep in a chair on your desk and when I came home and found you there, I decided to bring you to bed. And just as I was about to undress you, you woke up. You were working on the spell again, were you?”
“Yes.” replied Hermione. “And I think I am nearly done with rewriting it. Even though there might be a mistake in line three thousand forty-one… I will check it right now!”

She jumped up from the bed and tried to leave the room, but Ron was stopping her by blocking the doorframe, his face grim.
“What do you think you are doing Ron?” asked Hermione irritably. “I told you I had to check this right now. Let me do this!”
“No.” he replied simply.
“What do you think you are doing?” she said angrily. “This spell is the only way to stop the leviathans! Harry needs it and we have to help him! He is counting on us for god’s sake!”
“I know.”
“Then why the hell are you keeping me from helping him?”
“Because you won’t be any help if you crack up about this!” replied Ron angrily, his own temper getting the better of him. “You have been working for how long on this bloody spell today? Four hours? Six hours? Eight hours? You fell asleep fully clothed, damn it! The last time this happened you were in year three and took all of Hogwart’s subjects! You even have ink stains on your face and THAT never happened before! Normally you are the incarnation of order and right now your desk is completely in disarray! For god’s sake Hermione, you have bitten off more than you can chew and I will be damned if I allow you to crack up over this. Even you are not omniscient and it is no shame that you are not!”

Hermione was completely stunned at his words. As the silence stretched between them, Ron mentally prepared them for the storm he knew would follow. They had billions of arguments before but he knew that this could be huge. However he was sticking to his opinion and was not going to give in here. His surprise could not have been greater as Hermione pulled him into a tight hug instead of shouting at him.

“Oh Ron I am so sorry.” Hermione said tearfully, clinging to him so tightly that he had problems breathing. “You are only trying to help me and I snap at you for doing so. I am such a horrible person! I should have known that you only had the best intentions!”
Now she started to sob and Ron’s joy that she had admitted the he had been right, something that had never ever before, was dampened significantly. He really hated to deal with emotional people and crying girls were ten times worse than crying blokes. To make matters even worse, he was crap at this feeling stuff and had absolutely no idea what to do. What would Harry, Hermione or Ginny do in this situation? Fortunately he had a brainwave before this nightly encounter could become even more awkward.

“Hush love, everything is alright.” he said in a soothing voice, praying that it would work. “You are just overworked and have a serious lack of sleep. Let’s get to bed okay? Everything will be okay tomorrow. All you need is some rest. You will complete the spell tomorrow; after all you are the smartest witch around. Everything is alright; no more sorrow, no more tears okay?”

Hermione’s only answer was a muffled okay, but Ron took heart in the fact that she had stopped crying. Once again, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her over to their bed. He gently laid her down and transfigured both of their clothes into pyjamas with a flick of his wand.
“Hold me Ron.” she whispered so softly, that he barely caught her words. Smiling he climbed into the bed as well, tucked both of them in and wrapped his arms around her. Her breathing was soon becoming deeper and more regular and Ron enjoyed the feeling of her soft body against his and the knowledge that he could bring peace to her troubled mind. Soon both of them were sound asleep.


* * * * *


Ron awoke with a start as he felt something wet and soft trail over his torso, teasing his nipples as it did so. Even though he had opened his eyes, the room was pitch black. He tried to move but his arms and legs did not even budge. And suddenly enlightenment hit him, as the last bit of sleep was washed away by the adrenaline washing into his blood. Holy fuck! He was shackled to his bed, naked and blindfolded! A thousand naughty images flooded his brain and the arousal mingled with his helplessness and fear formed an intoxicating cocktail. Despite his total lack of control, Ron found himself getting rock hard.

“Who’s there?” he asked, hating how shaky and frightened his voice sounded. He prayed that it was not some kind of pervy guy living out his kinks with him. Fortunately he was lying on his back so it had to be a woman, right? Well as soon as the other person in the room would answer him, he would know. In the meantime he tried to find out with what exactly he was shackled. It felt soft and silky, almost fragile. Maybe he could get free if he yanked hard enough.

“Don’t even think about it.” said a husky female voice into his ear. “They may only be silken scarves, but they are charmed to be absolutely unbreakable. Just lie back and relax. You are going to enjoy it.”
For a brief moment relief flooded Ron at least he was getting bound and shagged by a woman, but still he found it hard to relax. He still did not know who the woman was, she sounded a bit like Hermione, but he had overheard Ginny talking in a similar voice to Harry. Sweet Merlin, what was he thinking about? Never ever in the whole world was the femme fatal in the room his sweet innocent baby sister. Ginny would never do this, would she?

Before Ron could ponder this thought any longer, his musings were pleasantly interrupted. A warm, nude and definitely female body pressed against his and his lips were captured in a passionate kiss. A tongue was staring to run along his lower lip, begging for entrance and he happily granted it. The girl tasted of peppermint, not of lemons with a trace of something bitter like Hermione. The thought that he was getting forced to cheat on his wife blazed through his mind briefly, but was forgotten quickly as their tongues started to dance. Every coherent notion was washed away; he only felt her tongue massaging his, her hair tickling his torso and his cock pocking her stomach. He could not stand it, he needed more!

As though the little minx head read his mind, she pulled away. He groaned as he felt her leaving the bed and cursed softly. His cock was throbbing and he was already ready for release and desperately hoped that it would be soon. His surprise was complete, when he felt a hot, sticky liquid pool onto his chest.

“What the…?” he managed to say, before his lips were claimed once again, while one of the girls hand spread to spread the liquid over his whole torso. Suddenly the fluid turned cool and hard, mantling his skin. Ron gasped at the sudden change of temperature and texture. Before he had the chance to say anything, the girl abandoned his mouth and started to nibble the now hard liquid away.

Ron moaned as he felt her teeth and tongue grazing his skin, while she was eating his hull. This was the most delicious kind of torture he had ever experienced. By now he was ready to burst and would have ravaged her on the spot if he had been able to move. He was harder than he had even been in his life and he was completely mad with desire. Suddenly he felt something hard slip between his lips and the girl’s ministrations stopped for a moment.
“Eat it.” she whispered into his ear, before kissing his neck and Ron happily obeyed. Chocolate. Dark Chocolate. Damn. He was getting bathed in hot, dark chocolate. And he enjoyed it!

“Do you want me to go on?” purred the girl saucily in his ear.
“Gods, yes!” he cried and was rewarded with another wave of pleasure as she complied with his wish. A few incredible minutes later his chest was clean once again, and Ron was left gasping for breath. Before he had any chance to recover, he felt the same hot liquid enveloping his cock. Ron thought he would die as she applied the same treatment on his cock, which she had already used on his chest. The combination of her hot tongue, her teeth, the chocolate and her breath was mind blowing and Ron came almost immediately after she had lowered her mouth to him.

She eagerly sucked him completely in her hot mouth and swallowed all of his hot cum. Ron strained against his shackles while he came, before collapsing on the bed, stars exploding in front of his eyes. However the girl was not finished with him. She continued eating him until he was completely hard again. Ron still did not know who was shagging him silly, but he could care less at the moment. All he wanted was to cum again, preferably inside of her.

A small hand took hold of his shaft and guided him into her dripping wet velvet softness. He sighed in relief as he entered her and had barely time to adjust before she started to ride him furiously. Oh how he wished to see her breasts bouncing up and down, her hand probably touching herself and his own penis sliding in and out of her! Suddenly he felt her walls tightening around him and she came with a scream. Ron followed her over the edge and felt himself exploding inside of her.

For the second time on this morning, Ron saw stars. He could not belief how good this had felt. The girl and he lay together for a while, still joined, no one saying a word. Then the blindfolded was removed from his face. He stared into Hermione’s face, gaping at her like a fish out of the water.

“Hermione.” he said weakly. “How…why…?”
“This was your reward for yesterday.” she replied, grinning impishly, untying his shackles with a flick of her wand. “I will meet you in the shower, do not take too long.”

With these words she left the room, leaving her totally flabbergasted husband behind.


* * * * *


Three days later, six am:

Harry was lying half asleep in his bed, his own nude body snuggled closely to Ginny’s. He made no move to stand up; instead he savoured the feeling of the silken bedclothes against his bare skin, the soft tickling of his wife’s hair against his face, her flowery smell and her soft, porcelain skin against his. His mind was blissfully blank and he welcomed the change. Rarely he had felt so at peace with the world and wished this moment to last forever. However this instant of peace was going to be rudely interrupted.

Harry had given a few of his friends and other persons he cared about some emergency portkeys, which would teleport them directly into his flat, bypassing all wards and protection spells. To prevent abuse he had enchanted them not to work if the user had malicious intentions and gave each of them a different activation word. One of these portkeys was used in this very moment, bringing an unexpected visitor to the Potters this early in the morning.

The door to the bedroom burst open with a bang and a woman stormed into the room. Before Harry’s fogged brain had the opportunity to react, she had already yanked the bedcovers away, revealing Ginny and himself.

Alright, now he really was awake.

Hands instinctively flying downwards to hide his more intimate parts, Harry looked in the shock at the woman with a heart shaped face and long black locks.
“Damn it, Tonks.” he said, irritated. “What the hell is going on?”
“I do not have time to talk.” she replied breathlessly. “You have to come; Scrimgeour has launched an attack on the leviathans!”