Harry Potter and the Power of the Gods
The night sky hung low, almost as an omen around number 4 privet drive. Inside the second story window, a young boy of 17 lay sleeping, dreaming. He wasn't an ordinary boy however. He was the fabled boy-who-lived. Harry Potter. He lay; more the term "tossing and turning" was accurate, as his dreams tormented him for yet another night.
Harry ran down a corridor, surrounded by torches. His best friend Draco, and his girlfriend Hermione running along his side. They were all torn and tattered, Harry was bleeding from his shoulder and Draco had a nasty gash along his torso. The path ahead was perilous, razor sharp spikes spewed forth from the walls as razor blades jutted from the floor below. Above them, swinging vines dangled from the ceiling, strong as any wizard's wire. They swung across these wires one at a time, aiming for the door at the end. Just then, as their feet hit solid earth beneath them, both Hermione and Draco were attacked from behind by what appeared to be Minotaur looking creatures. "Go harry! You can make it!" Draco yelled as he wrestled with the Minotaur's horns. "Harry go! Please!" Hermione yelled as she slid out from under the Minotaur and dodged as best she could, one of the horns nearly goring her stomach. Harry ran for the door, kicking it open. A box lay within the chamber, surrounded by statues of people harry could barely recognize. One looked similar to Dumbledore, his long bear reaching to the bottom of his chest, and his long flowing hair reaching to mid back roughly. Though he was much too strong, his muscles very present in the statue. His jaw line was square and visible even through his tremendous beard. The one to his right was much more disturbing. Viking helmet looking horns sprouted from his head and he wore a mask of almost gothic destructiveness, obviously nothing that had been on the earth since the times of medieval days. His body was entirely armored as if for battle. The one to the left was very normal looking, except for the trident within his hands. In the center of the room, a box lay. About waist height on harry, the sides appeared to flow, and the outward appearance that didn't was almost of the tragedy side of the comedy/tragedy masks. It seemed to scream out with power. Harry paid all of this little mind however as he ran over and pushed with all his might, finally sliding the lid of the top of the box. Reaching inside, he retrieved two blades, chains hanging from the ends. They weren't your normal blades however. The serrated edges of them were so distinct that they were almost long enough to catch on an enemy and tear him to shreds alone. The handles appeared to be two hands that erupted the blades forth from them, and the chains, almost 20 feet in length, glowed red hot. Without even batting an eye, harry removed his t-shirt, throwing it across the room. Taking the end of one of the chains in his hand, he pressed it against the inside skin of the top of his forearm, just below the elbow joint, the crippling pain of the chain searing into his flesh made him howl into the air and collapse upon the ground, yet he grabbed the other chain and did the same thing to his other forearm. With both blades' chains now digging and burning his skin, he fell to the floor and stared at the ceiling as he felt the chains wrap slowly around his forearms, tears streamed down his face as each new layer of pain ripped his body again and again. Finally, the handles lay in his palm burning themselves deeply into the sensitive skin that lay there. Then, as quickly as it had started, the pain stopped. Harry rose from the dirt of the floor, his eyes set. The emerald green blazed with a power not experienced in over two millennia. Around them now circled a thin but clear red line, the power from it emanating. His jaw line now set against everything he had seen. He slowly walked out of the room and down the corridor. Draco was being thrown into the air but still holding his own as he could see. But Hermione screamed as the Minotaur's head came down to devour her. Thinking quickly, harry threw one of the blades in his hand. The chain came uncoiled from around his forearm as the blade slammed between the open jaws of the beast, spraying blood and brain matter across the room as the beast finally fell to the floor. The other turned towards him, infuriated at his brothers demise. Charging him, he lowered his head to gore harry. Acting quickly, harry pulled the other blade from the dead minotaur's mouth, the chain wrapping snuggly into its place on his forearms again, and he lowered both blade, thrusting them forward and the exact moment the head came close enough for the blades to cut. Hermione screamed as the Minotaur fell to the earth, dead, the blades stuck deep into his skull, crushing into his brain. Harry yanked the free and the chains coiled, like snakes, back into harry's waiting arms. Suddenly, more creatures rose up from the depths, as they had all day. Harry let go of the blades, uncoiled the chains from his forearms, and swung them overhead, slicing off the heads of everyone save Hermione and Draco in the room, his roar could be heard from all over the land, "I AM THE GOD OF WAR!"
Harry awoke with a start, sweat pouring down his face and back, drenching his sheets. He stood and realized it was two in the morning, and he was now 17, legally allowed to leave. He began packing his things to leave privet drive, finally coming across his dream journal. Sitting down one final time at the desk in the room, he pulled his ink and quill out and wrote the dream, as best he could. When finished, he began flipping through the weeks dreams. His eyes widened when he realized that since he left Hogwarts, he'd had the exact same dream every night. Finally he packed his things and called for the night bus. He placed the coins in Stan's hand, not saying a word as he climbed aboard the bus. "Malfoy Manor" was all harry said as he sat down on one of the beds, determined more now than ever to talk to Draco about the dreams that had plagued his night for so very long.
