Chapter 1
The Myth of the Sorcerer
Harry had spend the bulk of the summer holiday at number four Privet Drive, living with the Dursleys, as was Dumbledore's request. He had a subscription to the Daily Prophet, but was still miserable about having to live with his 'muggle' family. Despite constanly bombarding Dumbledore with owls as to the holocaustic conditions with the Dursleys, he was reluctant to have him leave, wanting him to stay in the relative safety of not being in the wizard world. Dumbledore was not without compassion, however, as he let Harry stay with the Weasley's for the last week before leaving for Hogwart's. Even on the day to get on the Hogwart's Express, Harry was still thankful for being lifted from the prison that was the Dursley's home.
Harry open the day's edition of the Daily Prophet as he had done for countless mornings the summer over. During his three months away from school, there had been numerous rumors and sightings of Voldemort and his following moving throughout Europe all through the summer. He was surprised to see no mention of him at all. However the headline intrigued him nonetheless: 'Alliance Formed with Myth'. As he skimmed though the article a side paragraph caught his eye. It read as follows:
The Myth of the Sorcerer
According to legend, the sorcerer is
like a wizard in the respect that they
use magic, however the similarity
ends there. Where a wizard requires
a wand, a sorcerer solely relies on
words and hand signals, with an
occasional trinket. The first reported
case of a sorcerer is also the first
written account of anything. The last
documented report was just after the
war of the American secession from
England. Since this time, wizards have
been sometimes given the title of
sorcerer as a mark of status and
accomplishments. But the
aforementioned definition has been
regarded as a fairy tale, a story to
frighten young wizards into behaving
themselves. In light of recent events,
this apparently isn't so.
Harry read bits and pieces of the main article but nothing else peaked his interest. "I see you've already heard," Mr. Weasley said as he walked into the room, "I wish I could tell you more than is in that newspaper but it is being kept strictly on a 'need to know' basis. But then again, you'll probably find out more before long….." he trailed off, looking at his watch. "We'd better get moving if we're gonna make it to the train on time." He looked up the stairs and shouted, "You nearly ready yet Ron?" Ron clambered down the stairs, his trunk banging on the stairs behind him. They piled their trunks in Arthur's new car and got in. Shortly after leaving, a voice was heard emanating from the back seat.
"Took you guys long enough, it feels as though I've been waiting in here for hours." Ginny stuck her head up front saying, "Now remember what Mum said, 'No more short cuts'."
Despite of Ginny's reminder, Mr. Weasley decided to cut through a few areas to save on some time. He failed miserably of course, getting them there just in time for the final boarding call. When they arrived, they found Hermione standing on the platform, tapping her foot impatiently. She quickly helped them load their stuff on board before they all got on.
"It's about time you got here," she said as they moved down the train. "I was starting to.." she paused as the train lurched forward, sending her to the floor. "..starting to think you weren't coming," she finished, climbing to her feet. "I expect all the seats are taken by now." She moved down the corridor glancing in each compartment to see if it was occupied. She was just about to give up when she saw one that apparently had no one in it. "Over here you guys," she called out waving at the open one. As Harry, Ron, and Hermione piled in, Ginney ran off upon seeing some of her friends beckoning her. "I mean really," Hermione said as she took a seat, "another five minutes and you would have had to Walk to Hogwarts. What were you thinking….whats that?" she said pointing at a wisp of smoke floating toward the window.
All three of them looked in the direction of the door. Sitting near it, with his legs drawn up on the bench in a fetal position, was a boy. His upper body and head were hidden behind an enormous book, with his arms drawn up from underneath on eith side of the spine. He was dressed in cobalt blue robes with a leather belt, lined with pouches, wrapped around his waist, with an inornate but interesting dagger on his right hip. On the back of his right hand was a black, Celtic scrolling tattoo that ran up his middle and ring fingers, and down his arm for as far as they could see before it disappeared under his robe.
"Excuse me," Hermione waving the smoke away from her face.
The boy in the corner moved his book down to reveal a cigarette hanging from his mouth. "I'm sorry, didn't realize anybody else was in here," he said. "Does this bother you?"
"It does."
"I'll get rid of it then," the boy said as he flicked the cigarette out the open window. The first thing they noticed about him was his unobstructively shaven bald, head, with a dark red tattoo inhabiting the left side of his scalp in the shape of a crescent. He closed his book and set it down on the bench. Hermione was immediately intrigued by the title 'Uses For Necromancy in the Modern World'. "Well, are yall gonna` introduce yourselves, you are in my compartment ya` know."
"My name is Hermione Granger, that's Ron Weasley, and this is Harry Potter. And You are?"
"You may call me Andrānos, just, Andrānos."
"No surname?"
"No, no last name."
"Last name? You're an American, aren't you," Hermione said with a glare.
"Yes, I'm an American," Andrānos replied sarcastically.
"Well, I'm pleased to meet you, Andrānos," Harry said as he stood up to shake his hand. Ron did likewise but in the process knocked Harry's glasses off his face and onto the floor. Before Harry could stop him, Ron had already stepped on them breaking the frame.
"Gosh, I'm sorry Harry, I didn't see them."
"Don't worry Ron, easy enough to repair," Hermione said. She picked up the glasses and, after tapping them a few times with her wand, handed them back to Harry, good as new.
"That's pathetic," Andrānos said squinting his eyes, "is that really the best you can do?"
"I suppose you can do better?" Hermione said sharply.
"As a matter of fact," Andrānos said, standing up, "I can." He reached into a pouch and pulled out two eagle eye balls. Taking one in each hand he said: zoma-shintona vintakneege, he closed his hands, holding them up to his ears. Zantapna, zantapna, zantapna kintone, he stretched his arms out in front of him, bintonga zimtaagni, he opened his hands again, bintonga zimpone. Suddenly, the eyes burst into flames, giving Ron and Hermione a start. Harry just stared blankly into Andrānos' penetrating eyes. Domasheen!, Andrānos said as he quickly closed his hands and stuck each index finger at Harry's eyes. From his extended digits, a tiny column of fire shot out, straight into Harry's eyes.
His vision went immediately black, then white, and then slowly faded into color and eventually into the normal world, though greatly distorted. He removed his glass to rub his eyes and was amazed to clearly see Andrānos leaning toward Hermione without them.
"Why repair the glasses," Andrānos said, "when you can just as easily repair the eyes." He pulled out another cigarette and lit it. After taking a long drag and blew it up at the ceiling before looking at Harry and said, "Was it good for you?"
