First Chapter: The tales of the boy who lived
Nope, not mine. It all belongs to the J.K. Rowling.
After a very long and quite eventful year, I'm trying to get back into writing. Sadly, all of my attempts to get back to "Harry Potter and the Colours of Magic" have been very unfruitful. Hopefully at some point I will be able to get to that story. In the mean time I have quite a lot of ideas running through my head; most of them are going nowhere at an alarming speed, others are going somewhere although very slowly. Hopefully you can enjoy reading all of the starting chapters and one-shots I'll be uploading here. If you have any comments and criticism leave a review and let me know. I'm always trying to improve my writing.
Inspired by Adran06 Challenge in Paladeus forum: "The Boy-Who-Lived"
There once was a boy, who should have died as a baby, but he was so powerful, he instead killed the one who tried to kill him! Since then, he was known as the Boy-Who-Lived, and went on many amazing adventures, like slaying dragons at the age of 3, or fighting off hundreds of powerful Dark Wizards in order to save a princess! This is the story of the Boy-Who-Lived! A/U
Ship: H/HR/L
The BWL vs. the prologue.
Located in the outskirts of one of the biggest trading ports in Britannia, the Angry Harpy was a small rundown inn that served as the last stop before the long trek through woods of unknowns. Due to its close proximity to the harbour, the lack of travellers brave enough to adventure through the forest, and the low level of vigilance in the road, the pub was usually home for the most unsavoury elements of society; it was for these same reasons that the pub served as the headquarters of the Meddling Bandits, an up–and–coming band of outlaws that had started terrorizing the city a few months back.
The atmosphere inside the Angry Harpy was rowdy and jovial; Grog and whiskey flowed around the tables carried by scantily clad waitresses that raised more than a few spirits; heaps of food were gulped down merrily by the ravenous bandits; and lively music was played by the band; all of this a celebration to the latest successful assault to the cargo ships and the exceptionally large profits made by the budding pirates.
The boisterous revelry was abruptly interrupted as the door to the hideout opened. The music completely stopped as an old man wearing a black hooded-cloak made his way towards the bar, all eyes watching him intently. Seemingly completely oblivious to all of this the man took a seat at the counter before ordering in a rough voice a bottle of butterbeer. The bartender looked carefully towards the pirates before mutely sitting a bottle in front of the man. Once again unfazed by the constant stares the cloaked man grabbed his beverage and started drinking.
Two of bandits made their way towards the man and took a seat to each of his sides "So, what brin's you here old man?" the pirate on the left asked. Very few travellers usually frequented this path towards the mountains which made them cautious, but none of them were particularly scared of the weakly old man.
"I'm the Traveller," the man said before taking another sip of his drink, "I journey the lands making my living of the stories and information that I gather."
"So traveller, what ye be doin' so far away from th' city?" the other pirate asked, "What brin's you t' this pub?"
"I have found during my long travels that sometimes the most desolate places have to most interesting stories to tell," the Traveller answered cryptically.
The two pirates looked confusedly at the man before slowly shrugging their shoulders, "Then be tellin us a tale old man, see 'bout 'tis interestin' stories ye have," the one on the left said.
The Traveller seemed to ponder for a minute before gulping the remains of his drink, "Buy me another one and I'll give you a good story," he offered.
One of the pirates motioned to the barman for a refill and soon enough another bottle of butterbeer and two mugs of grog were sitting in front of the three men.
The hooded man leisurely grabbed his drink and tilted it to his mouth taking a small sip getting annoyed glances from the men sitting at his sides, "Have you ever heard the story of the boy-who-lived?" the traveller finally asked a few moments later.
The two bandits shook their heads in the negative prompting the man to continue. "I first heard about that name travelling in the far northern lands, where the frosty weather can easily kill you if you are not careful."
"You see, I was having a pint in the Three Broomsticks, having just visited Hogwarts Castle for an errand," The two pirates and even a couple of other patrons perked at the mention of that name; mostly everyone had heard of the majestic castle that stood far up north but almost no one had had the pleasure of visiting it, "It was there that I first heard of the Boy-who-lived."
"Of course, that story was not about the Boy-who-lived, it was about the evil wizard called Voldemort…" the traveller let the words linger for a few moments waiting to hear the screams and sharp draws of breath that accompanied the name; strangely no one seemed to even bat and eyelash at the mention. Figuring that it was probable, unlikely as it was, that no one had heard about the madman, he continued with the story. "…One of the most powerful, evil and deranged wizards that had ever lived."
"This Dark Lord, as he called himself, terrorized many towns and villages all across the Northern lands; intimidating everyone that didn't share his views, favouring ever person that did his bidding and murdering every person that dared stand up to him. This continued for many years, many people were tortured and murdered during those times; countless others tried in vain to escape the torment of this madman; and a even a few tried their best to stop him," the traveller narrated, his voice sending chills to the listeners.
"But then everything changed when he attacked Godric's Hollow. Nobody knows what called Voldemort to this small village in the middle of nowhere but one thing is for certain; going to Godric's Hollow spelled his doom," as the Traveller spoke, more and more people started paying attention, a few them coming closer to be able to hear better, "It would be in a tiny cottage, the home of a small family of three the place where Dark Lord's reign of terror would come to an end."
"Nobody knows what happened that night inside the hut; it wasn't until a few hours after that attack that the lifeless bodies of Lily Marie Potter and James Charlus Potter were found, robbed of their life by a manic with delusions of grandeur. Sadly, try as they might, nobody was able to find the body of little Harry James Potter, the almost two-year-old son of the couple, the only clue to his fate the enormous amount of magical energy radiating from his room. It was that fateful day, October 31 1981, that the legend of the Boy-Who-Lived was born," the traveller finished that part of his tale and took a sip of his butterbeer letting the words sink in, knowing that it wouldn't be more than a few moments before the questions started.
He was right as almost immediately the Pirate to his left, now slightly more inebriated, asked him. "'n what happened to th' wee jim laddie?"
Once more the Traveller used this opportunity to ask for another beverage, this time it was served by the bartender without waiting for the Pirates to give the order, "Well, some people say that his magic was so powerful that it vanished the Dark Lord when he tried to attack him. Others say that seeing in this small boy an opportunity, Lord Voldemort took him to his fabled Citadel at the centre of the Scottish Mountains, where he would train him to be his successor. In truth nobody knows what happened that night and it wouldn't be until a few years later that I could get more information about The-Boy-Who-Lived."
"By that time I had almost completely forgot about the boy who had defeated one of the most dangerous wizards of the Northern Lands. It would be once again in one of my travels that I would hear the rumours about a small boy, of about six years, battling with a Nasty Nundu trying to protect his town. The legend talked about a black-haired kid, with the greenest of eyes, battling with his hands, his magic, and his ever faithful friend against an angry beast that only a selected few had survived," once again the Traveller had them all listening with rapt attention, picturing the battle against the formidable foe. "I tried to find more information but it seemed that whole town had been engulfed in the chaos and been destroyed as a result," the old man finished sadly.
"Luckily I didn't have to wait very long to hear more of his adventures," the Traveller for the first time since the start of the story seemed to be getting more excited about the tale "It seemed that Harry, consumed by the grief of not being able to save the town, decided that he would dedicate his life to help others, for only a few months later, rumours of boy and a girl attacking a Bandit camp arrived to my ears."
"After that, the adventures of the black haired boy seemed to grow more wondrous each time I heard about him," watching the disbelief on their faces he tried to explain, "Once I heard about him hunting a flame dragon only with a rusty broken sword as a weapon. Another time I was told that a twelve-year-old boy slew The King of Serpents, the Great Basilisk, for harming someone he hold dear; this time with a goblin made sword, a scarlet phoenix and a tattered old hat, for help," the Traveller took a sip from his beer as he tried to remember the other stories told about the raven-haired boy.
"I also heard that he helped to make peace between two warring vampire clans serving as a mediator. Not only that, it is said that one time he fought to a standstill against the legendary Captain Krum," A man sitting in a table nearby scoffed at hearing the name and the whole room seemed to freeze in place.
"You better be careful stranger," the man from the table said. "That name is not very welcome here, he is the bastard that destroyed my previous fleet and killed my men. I was barely able to escape with my life from "The Wrath of The Sea". I don't believe that Boy-Who-Lived of yours could do anything remotely close to that."
The traveller turned his head slightly towards the man. He was sitting at the table next to the counter with a big tank of grog and two beautiful girls, one at each side. Slightly bulkier that all of the other pirates he had scars criss-crossing his bare chest and every person in the room appeared to be watching him with reverence.
"I'm sorry," The Traveller said to the captain of the pirates not sounding sorry at all, "It was not my intention to bring your inadequacies to light," giving him a small nod he turned once more towards his drink.
Faster than the eye could see a small daggers flew from the pirate's table towards the old man sitting at the counter. With skill-honed reflexes he easily dodged the flying weapon moving his body with surprising ease for such an old person.
"That was not very nice," a dreamy and definitely female voice said, catching everyone off-guard.
The old man looked towards his cape and saw small scratch at the sleeve where the dagger had grazed the fabric, "Oh poo that was unlucky!"
The old man fumbled through his robe looking for something until he found it. He quickly pulled a small butterbeer cork pendant and as he examined it he found a small dent on it that wasn't previously there, "I really need to be more careful with my enchantments," the man said taking the pendant off. In the blink of an eye the previously raggedy old man transformed into a stunningly beautiful lady with slivery blond straight hair.
The girl looked to be young, barely out of her teens; she was quite short at five feet four at most and very petite. She had a black leather vest over a very bright yellow shirt, a pair of tight leather pants and silver combat boots that seemed to be radiating magic; a glowing stiletto on her hip completed her outfit.
The people at the inn blinked and looked around dazedly as if they had just woke up after a long time asleep. Finally all eyes turned towards the now girl sitting at the counter. "Well this is awkward," the blond girl said taking in all the irritated faces.
"I better get going. There is this really nasty wrackspurt infection I have to take care of," with that The Traveller, now transformed into a woman, started making her way towards the exit. She didn't get very far before most crew of the Meddling Pirates, the ones that weren't complete drunk, with their captain at the front, started surrounding her obstructing her exit.
"Would you let me go if I told you that, I'm just little girl that got lost?" the blond girl asked innocently, her big silvery blue eyes tearing slightly. The look of annoyance in the pirates' faces gave her the answer.
"What if I told you that I can get you very valuable information?" the bandits closed in on her some of them with a maniac gleam in their eyes. "What about I'm an amazingly good enchantress?" she said hopefully. Once again the leader of the pirates scoffed as they completely encircled her.
A young couple was calmly walking on a dirt road through the woods. The man seemed to be around 20 years old and had an unruly mop of black hair. He wasn't overly tall at about five feet seven but the most distinctive feature were his bright green eyes full of happiness hidden behind a pair of round glasses. The bespectacled young man was wearing a white dress shirt with a black vest on top and a pair or white trousers; finally on his back he had a broad sword with jewels on the hilt sheathed on a leather scabbard.
The woman walking next to him was of about the same age and slightly shorter by maybe an inch or two. She had wavy chestnut brown hair that reached past her shoulders and darker brown eyes that even though were looking at the man next to her also appear to be able to take in everything in their surroundings. She was wearing an electric blue cloak over a sky blue blouse top, and white khakis. On her left hand she was carrying a very old leather-bound book.
The couple kept walking along the road; gradually they started getting closer to an extremely old and rundown building. At the top of the structure there was a neglected sign that long ago indicated the name of the place, but now only had what remained of the head of a screaming harpy.
When the couple was a few feet away from the entrance the door busted open and a man dashed out of the building screaming. Behind him a woman's voice came out of the building, "Wait, don't go, please come back!"
The man ignored the voice and kept running as if the devil was hot on his heels, "I said come back!" the woman's call was soon followed by a bottle of firewhiskey that flew through the air hitting the escaping man on the back of his head knocking him out.
Grabbing the man by the collar the black haired stranger dragged him towards the building. Crossing the door the couple was greeted by a not so strange sight for them, a lone girl was standing in the middle of the room bouncing happily from one foot to the other; all around her dozens of unconscious bodies littered the floor.
"Harry, Hermione!" the girl yelled as soon as she saw the couple before dashing towards them.
The couple happily greeted the blond girl enveloping her in their arms. After a few minutes of trying to get the stuffing out of each other the three of them separated, with the blond girl taking a nervous glance at the chaos left behind her.
"Oh Luna, what did you do? We left you alone less than an hour ago," Harry asked looking at the unconscious bodies. "What have we told you? You shouldn't be getting into trouble," He chastised.
Luna looked down at the floor as Harry made to envelop her in his arms, "We are not mad at you Love; it's only that we worry when you get into trouble," planting a small kiss on his forehead he continued, "besides you know Hermione gets cranky when she doesn't get a chance to blow off some steam," he joked. Being enveloped in his arms and the comment brought a smile to the petite girl's lips as she melted into the warm embrace.
While Luna and Harry were talking, Hermione made her way towards one of the unconscious men. Opening her book she made a small chant and she was rewarded with a swirl of memories coming in quick succession. Avoiding the most recent memories, since she didn't feel like watching Luna make quick work of the Pirates, she went straight for the memories related to their encounter. She had to suppress the urge to chuckle as she heard the tale Luna was telling, really, she wouldn't call barely escaping with your life defeating a Nundu and she wouldn't say that what they did was raiding a Bandit camp but it was a nice story none the less. Finishing with the memories of the encounter she made her way once again to the other two just in time to hear the Harry's comment.
"I do not get cranky when I don't get a chance to blow some steam," Hermione said slapping Harry's arm hard, "and even if I did you are one to talk mister what's our adventure going to be today. Now you better get you cute arse moving so we can get out of here, the bartender is still conscious hiding behind the counter."
Hermione watched as Harry broke the hug before he made his way towards the bar. She happily sneaked her arms around Luna waist hugging her from behind. "You know Luna; you really have to be more careful with how you bind the illusion into the enchantment." Hermione said calmly letting Luna know that she wasn't reprimanding her. "What I really want to know is why you attacked them. You had already stalled them for good amount of time and could have easily kept them entertained for a couple of minutes more until we got here."
Hermione saw Luna's eyes harden at the question, "He said bad things about Harry and I really don't like it when they say bad things about Harry." She explained before resting her head on Hermione's shoulder. "They were lucky I didn't mention you."
Hermione went over the conversation in her head once again and a small smile appeared on her face as she found what Luna was talking about, "Our hero," Hermione said with a fake swoon before she tilted Luna's head with her finger and placed a sweet kiss on her lips "Thank you for defending our Honour Luna, but next time make sure you give me a chance to blow some steam too." Hermione whispered against her ear. Luna's Melodious laugh echoed all around the inn.
While Hermione and Luna were talking, Harry calmly made his way to the counter where the bartender was hiding "Hello anyone there?" he called as he reached the bar.
A head slowly peeked behind the counter at his call. He seemed very uncertain and afraid and as he scanned the bar his eyes landed on the blond girl being enveloped in a hug. Dread filled his eyes and he hid once again.
"Hey, no need to be afraid, there isn't any danger," Harry said from above the bar.
Slowly the man once again rose from his hiding place coming directly in front of Harry. "I'm so sorry for all the troubles our lovely lady caused you," Harry said offering his hand to the frightened man.
"Though to be fair, you were hosting a band of pirates in your establishment. Pirates that, sadly for you, we were tasked with apprehending; of course if Hermione and I were around at the time things would have been much smoother and this place wouldn't have been wrecked this bad," Harry explained looking around at the broken tables and chairs; and the spilled drinks and food.
"Anyways, I digress. Here," Harry took out of his trousers a small pouch and laid it in on the wooden counter. "We're very sorry for the troubles we caused," he said with a small nod and started making his way to Hermione and Luna.
"Wait, before I forget!" Turning once again towards the speechless man, Harry pulled a small card from his shirt and set it in from of him. "There you go, in case you ever need our services." With that he turned around and walked towards the girls.
The bartender looked at the piece of paper sitting at the counter and took it in his hands to read it.
Might & Magic
Magical Mercenaries.
Dealing with all your troubles so you don't have to.
As he looked up from the piece of paper the man saw the brown haired girl standing in the middle of the room, his two friends standing at the door looking at her expectantly. The girl opened the book in his hands and started chanting in a language he couldn't understand. The bartender's eyes widened as he watched the bodies lying in the ground start flying, one after the other, towards the girl in blue.
Expecting a very messy collision the man was preparing to avert his eyes; the girl on the other hand seemed to have other plans as she seemed unfazed by the bodies coming towards her. Her plans became apparent as the man closest to her started to morph until it turned into a small playing card that came resting peacefully inside her book. The first human-made card was closely followed by a new one and then another one, before long the bartender observed that all of the bodies littering the floor had simply vanished leaving only the broken remains of bottles and tables, as a reminder of the events that happened before the couple's arrival.
With her job finished, an all of the bandits safely encased on her book, the bartender watched the girl turn around and make her way towards the two people waiting for her at the door. Without paying any attention to him the three travellers went out of the door and into the woods leaving the shocked bartender alone. It wouldn't be until a few minutes later that the bartender would recognise the green-eyed man that had delivered the card still lying in his hands.
Located in the Headmaster's Tower and accessed through a small stairwell, faithfully protected by a gargoyle, The Headmaster's office was the workplace of the current headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The office was decorated according to the preferences of each of its current residents, with the moving pictures of the previous Headmasters and Headmistresses one of the constants inside the office, the other one the majestic phoenix that since time immemorial had bonded itself to the school his first partner had sworn to protect.
The current iteration of the office wasn't overly lavish, his current owner preferring to adorn his workplace with books and things of significance rather than with ostentatious ornaments and furniture; only a few silvery trinkets puffing and smoking were sitting in a small table behind the desk.
The owner of these instruments was sitting at his desk mulling over the myriad of papers and problems that came with the job of running a magical school. The man looked old enough to be easily considered the oldest man on earth by non-magical people; his white beard reaching way past his chest and coming to sit atop his legs that were covered by his outlandish purple robe. Contrasting with the old age shown in his body, the man's face and specially his blue eyes seemed to be full of life although slightly clouded by all his troubles. He wouldn't know it but all this problems would be multiplying in the coming future.
A small alarm alerted the Headmaster that someone was waiting at the antechamber asking for permission to enter. Waiving his wand towards the door the Headmaster disarmed the many different charms protecting the door allowing his visitor entrance.
The door swung open crashing against the wall letting a middle-aged man with greasy black hair that reached his shoulders into the room. "Albus we have a problem!" the man said forcefully foregoing any pleasantries.
"Good evening to you too Severus, what brings you barging into my office at this late hour?" the Headmaster questioned slightly annoyed at his potions professor rude behaiviour.
"It is the Potter brat and his band of merry idiots," the potions professor spat, contempt filling his voice.
The Headmaster rubbed the bridge of his nose trying to keep his composure. Sometimes he asked himself why he kept the man in front of him inside the castle, then he remembered the oaths that bind them together andits terms. A day didn't go by that he didn't regret the conditions laid inside the oath for both of them. He would always wonder if the deal he had made with the man standing in front of him hadn't brought more harm than good.
"How many times Severus, have I asked you to let go of your old grudge," Albus chastised knowing that it would probably fall on deaf ears.
The potions professor narrowed his eyes but otherwise seemed to completely ignore the Headmaster's comment. "We have a new problem, and as always Potter is in the middle of it all."
The Headmaster motioned for the man to take a seat at the desk before he started talking. It seemed that what was already a very difficult night was quickly turning into something far more problematic.
Thanks for reading.