Black Saturday

Vinum XII

'This place is atrocious!' whined Hermione.
Rahal said, 'It's atrocious everywhere you go. Really depressing place. Really bleak. Imagine if you had to grow up in such a cesspit of degeneration and filth without knowing there ever was a better world somewhere out there.'
Forlorn paupers went about their day. Those rags hanging off their emaciated bodies, grimy and torn and only barely covering them up, were what passed for clothes. Every face sat heavy and deathly— even the youth seemed beyond their years. Menfolk, orcfolk, and dwarvenfolk mingled amongst themselves and did their business.
Harry kept his wand at the ready at all moments, and for good reason. No eyes went by without thieving stares.
So Solomon said to this, 'It's a sad world.'
'Hence why I got the hell out of there the first moment I could. Speaking of which— Moonshine! Perhaps you'd like to come with me to meet my parents?'
Hermione grabbed Luna's hands and said, 'Don't go anywhere near them, Lovegood. Ron, Harry, and I had the displeasure of meeting them, and they were the most bitter and hateful creatures I've ever met.'
'I did warn Moonshine of this, now didn't I? They would never tolerate menfolk in their home anyway.'
Harry asked, 'Then why bother bringing us to them?'
'First of all, I didn't— bring that up with Mozzy and Poxhart. Second of all, I figured that we'd eventually become...' Rahal slithered over to Harry's side and ran her hand across his shoulder and neck, finishing with, 'friends!'
'Probably should stop figuring, then.'
Rahal scowled.

Cheers and jeers erupted from a nearby crowd, and the throngs of peasants rushed out of the way. There came a horse-drawn carriage, elaborate and decadent in its design, worthy of Louisian aristocrats. The group caught a glimpse of the occupant— another high elf. Similar soft-faced features as Rahal, but with the wrinkles of maturity. He looked clad in an ornate fancydress befitting of his garish carriage, and he cast them a nasty grimace as he passed.
The clopping stopped, and the carriage door opened.
'You!' He pointed at Rahal. 'You traitorous wench!'
Rahal giggled, placed her hand upon her chest, and said, 'Thou art senile as usual, Your Pissness. I hold no attachment to your lordship.'
The elven noble stepped forward and slapped Rahal across the cheek.
'Your disgusting degeneration knows no bounds. And now you insult your house and honorable bloodline with further fornication with menfolk!' He swept his hand over the others, and didn't dare look their way.
Rahal stuck out her tongue.
Solomon stepped in-between the two.
'Adeus, I will give you fair warning— leave your daughter in peace.'
Luna gasped and quickly looked at both Rahal and her father. This is her father? How horrible!
Adeus didn't flinch. 'I do not recognize the uncivilized grunts of you lowly apes.'
Neither did Solomon. 'You leave me no choice.' He held his arms out in a Jesus Christ pose. Suddenly, a gale of wind exploded from his body and swept the grunge off the ground, blinding everyone in the vicinity.
Adeus swung his fist several times, yet once he wiped the grunge out of his eyes, he swore as he saw the group no longer standing before him. Grumbling, he boarding his carriage, swore at the driver, and carried on.

They ran on down an alley, well away from the glow of the street's candlelights.
Harry asked, 'How did you do that?'
Solomon answered, 'Will.'
'Will what? You didn't utter any spell, and you can't be any older than we are— what was that?'
Rahal leaned against a gutterpipe. 'For shame, Yoshie! How the Man of Peace so easily gave way to violence. Perhaps I really am the great corruptor.'
'My abilities are not infinite in your world.'
Before any of Potter's gang could open their mouths, Rahal turned to them and said, 'Speaking of which, I ought to apologize for that nasty little run-in with Adeus. It escaped my mind that he goes on night rides every so often just to flaunt his authority around the proles. Not all fathers are good men, obviously— and clearly, Yoshie's always had problems as well.'
Hermione asked, 'What's that got to do with anything?'
'I'll tell you when we reach the Saturday grove. If we stick to this alley, we should pass right by Poxhart's kettly pad over by the plaza. Solomon, don't tell them anything— I want Ron to be with them when we finally tell them everything.'
'Tell them everything? What are you planning on telling them?'
'Everything.'
Solomon stepped in front of her. 'I asked you a question.'
'Do you want me to start giving out answers for you? As you said, Navia is not part of your jurisdiction.'
This brought a half-troubled sneer upon Solomon's face. He stepped aside and said, 'Your move.'
'It always is.'