Hello there! This is the prequel to a interesting story I find myself compelled to write. I don not own any of the Harry Potter-related references. Please do review and enjoy!


Life was quiet in the soft jungle; the raucous sounds of monkeys and birds silent in the heart of the foliage. The canopy stretched as far as the eye could see, the animals who normally inhabited the very tree tops oddly absent as the silence permeated the basin. Even the creeks gurgled in soft mummers, fish and snapping turtles unwilling to move an inch from their muddy abodes.

At the heart of the basin lie a waterfall that careened from the mountaintops above the basin. The waterfall Niebla was staggeringly tall; water barely disturbed the lake as it became mist halfway to the ground. When the sun was at full height the humidity of the basin was almost oppressive. Yet the silence stretched across the trees.

The greens and browns of the forest hid many a creature, leopards and lizards using camouflage to stalk their prey stealthily. However these creatures find themselves grossly out-sized by the top predator of the basin. It slithered from tree to tree, the silent killer flashing its golden feathers in the dappled sunlight. It moved like liquid gold, pursuing any creature unlucky enough to find itself outside a borough or nest

Flicking its tongue it sensed a young monkey scrambling in the leaves above. Frantically the monkey swung branch to branch in the effort to find its mother, his terrified shrieks breaking the silence. The noise was all the beast needed to slide easily higher, its claws nimble on even the weakest of branches.

It quickly came across the young monkey as it jumped to a far off tree, a last desperate reach for safety. Mid jump the beast snagged the pathetic creature in its massive jaws, gold spattered with gore as it crunched the small body into nonexistence. It spread its wings as it drifted down to the forest floor.


When conquistadors heard of El Dorado they assumed the City of Gold existed in the deepest and darkest part of the jungle. But the language of the tribes in close proximity to the basin lacked consonants, thus the greed-fueled Spaniards assumed the native word and context to mean a "City of Gold". The translation was wrong; the better translation would be "The Golden One".

The mention of gold blinded the conquistadors and ingrained the idea of riches beyond their wildest dreams. They were unbothered by the ripple of fear at each time the name was mentioned, dismissing their fear as ignorance of gold's more profitable qualities. The ancient tradition of appeasing the gods by coating a shaman in gold was a wonder for the invaders. Why waste the treasure on appeasing gods that were inferior, if nonexistent, to the devout Catholic?

The essence of the ritual was lost on the arrogant men; appeasing the very real entity that occupied the neighboring forest was a necessity to these people. The creature was a fearsome presence in the back of the tribe's mind, it's silently shifting feathers the stuff of legend and myth.


May 1923

Sweat poured off the man as a sprinted through the bush, unfeeling of the thorns and branches that whipped across his skin. The shouts and curses streaked through the branches, a Reducto blasting splinters into the sprinter's face. Screaming in agony, his wand unable to shield the blood clouding his vision as his pursuers gained more ground.

Heart racing, mind whirling, José flicked a Stunner behind him, hoping to catch his nefarious company unawares. However much darker curses were flying overhead, his spell casting novel in comparison to the mastery of the magic thrown at him.

His ankle snagged on an exposed root and he heard the bone snap as he fell painfully to the ground. White hot heat radiated off of the injured ankle, his mind too exacerbated to remember a healing charm quickly. Foot steps padded to a halt around him.

A Body–Bind curse struck him across his side, instantly freezing in place. The men already laughed at the pain on his face and the ease of their catch. Hauling him to his feet he hoped the fate of the troop was less morbid than his, though he doubted the rest of the caravan would get away easily. Someone had grabbed his chin and forced José to look up at the antagonist. As his vision began to fail him he managed see piercing yellow eyes before blacking out in pain.