CHAPTER TWO
Harry was dressed in a red tee shirt with a picture of a rock band on it, one that he didn't know or care, and big blue jeans. He also wore a pair of sunglasses and leather boots and over all that a black leather trench coat like the one Neo wears in the Matrix. He was pro at conjuring money now, because he watched money change hands and that was all he needed to learn how to conjure Brazilian Dollars. So with practically unlimited funds and a glamour charm to make him look like a twenty year old, he practically owned the city.
The first thing he did was buy an apartment, a nice condo on a beach somewhere where the sun always shines and the water is always smooth blue and green. He liked that place a lot and ordered furniture in too from a company that did all that stuff, the name of it was: IMPROG and they were said to be reliable.
Harry was enjoying his vacation. He passed the time by reading books, amazingly. Not serious books like non fiction or philosophy or anything but entertaining pulp books. He had two big cardboard boxes: the unread pile, and the read pile. So far his unread pile was growing smaller and his read pile was growing bigger. He was quite heavy on books, it was like a new hobby for him, something to pass the time away with. Since he didn't have Quidditch, these entertaining stories were the next best thing. He read them everywhere, from when he was sun tanning on the beach to when he was eating dinner at a local restaurant that served a heck of a lot of fish. He usually ate alone.
"I'm fuckin' bored of this," he remarked to himself one day as he tossed the last of his books in the read pile. It missed, landing on the white tiled floor somewhere but near the carton box. He went to the balcony and enjoyed the view of the beach, the nice breeze, and the way the palm trees bended in the wind. This place was cool and all but he was starting to feel restless.
He had never really had a vacation. He was usually up and about fighting all the time, twenty four seven, or maybe playing Quidditch with the aurors or researching something for Hermione. So while leisure time was all good and all in theory but in practice it just didn't suit him.
He was more of an action person, he had to get out there and do some stuff or else he would become self complacent and he could never let that happen. He was ruthless, completely and utterly so and he wanted to stay that way. Also, he loved pain, he loved how it made you stronger and it did. He reached for the hard stuff all the time, did things nobody else would dare to do just because it was too painful. He faced Voldemort on the battlefield, which happened to be the house the death eaters were attacking or a well reputated establishment and by well reputated it means someone who serves muggle borns too, not just purebloods. He faced Voldemort every day and he never flinched even once. Why? Because he loved pain.
Pain made you stronger. So this vacation business just wasn't working out.
He decided to get some culture, which just goes to show how bored he was and looking through a bunch of tourist pamphlets he decided to go to a local museum, just for the heck of it. Hell maybe he would meet some hot chicks or something, he didn't know.
The museum was a smart place to go to and Harry always went to smart places blisteringly drunk. He got in his condo, opened a pack of Morocco's Finest and started guzzling down like a madman.
Then he was ready to leave. He went to the main road and ordered a taxi on the new cell phone he bought on one of his many many shopping trips. The taxi took its time, and the driver took his time as well, rolling down his windows and sneering at Harry. He was fat, white, and American, which surprised Harry for a bit. He decided not to ask any questions. The man looked hardcore with a giant tattoo of a dragon on his fat bulby arms and cheese dribbling down his chin. TO his side on the front seat was an open box of pizza. Harry decided to go in the back.
"Hey there," the fat man said, "My name's Jerry."
"Good to meet you, Jerry," Harry politely replied. "Take me to the museum."
Jerry snorted. "You kiddin? That place sucks like the tits of yo grandma."
"Okay…" Harry was at a loss on what to do. Should he just kill the man and save humanity from having him infect the gene pool or should he just go with the flow?
"The museum please," Harry said after a bit of silence.
"Alright whatever," Jerry said. "You're American right?"
"Sure," Harry replied.
"You should visit some night clubs man," Jerry said. Harry decided to change the subject.
"How come you are a taxi driver, here of all places?"
"Ran out of money. I'm trying to save up so I can go back, but I kinda like it in this town, know what I mean?"
Harry pondered on what would happen if he said No. Would the man flip out and drive them off the road? With those beady blue eyes that glinted in the sunlight, and that big puffy face, you just couldn't tell. "I know," Harry muttered and hoped desperately there wouldn't be any more conversation.
The taxi whipped down the empty road until it reached the busy sections of the city. There it was a free for all and the only rule on the road was don't get in other people's way. They reached the museum in ten minutes. Harry paid the fee and got out quickly.
The museum was approximately two stories high, or maybe it was three. Harry still hadn't got glasses, but he knew he could fix his eyes with a couple of potions. The fact was, he didn't want to do that. He might screw something up. He needed a proper potions master to help him out with the complex eye potion. Snape didn't count.
There was nobody around the museum, well no science or geeky looking types. There were a bunch of hooligans about Dudley's size smoking cigarettes, sitting on a large pinkish white banister, and generally having a fun time. Harry ignored them as he quickly walked up the steps. He didn't have time for cigerrates and all that unhealthy junk. To be the best, your body needs to be the best. That was Harry's policy anyway.
He opened the glass door to be greeted with a blast of cool air conditioned wind. There was a whirling noise in the background but otherwise all was dead silent. Maybe this was a sound proof building or something because he couldn't hear the cars out on the street anymore.
There was a black bald man at the cashier, his nametag read Chi Xang, Security Guard, and he was taking money for tickets. Harry dug into the pockets of his jeans and pulled out some REAL money. Among other things he was an expert pick pocketer.
"Hey, Chi, I need a ticket or something?" Harry asked as he went over to him. He was sitting behind a glass booth, reading THE MOROCCO TIMES newspaper and drinking a white mug of coffee, on which there were the words: Be Happy Man.
"You are?" Chi Xang asked coldly. His black eyes were like little buttons and when he opened his mouth to talk in through the little circle, Harry could see loads of sharp pointed teeth like fangs.
"My name's John Ridely," Harry lied. "I want a ticket to go into the museum please."
"ID?"
Harry dug out a fake ID, one that he had conjured a while ago. Everywhere in Morocco you needed ID. It supposedly stopped crime or something, or at least that's what the lawmakers were hoping. In reality fake ID, like many other illegal things were available almost everywhere.
"Alright, man, but don't take too long," Chi Xang said, scowling.
Funny man, Harry thought. What kind of black guy had a freakin Chinese name? Funny man, Harry thought again as he entered the automatic doors of the museum. Inside were all sorts of things from Cups to Plates to Tables.
In short it was really boring. Harry was wandering around, and as he was looking at all the stuff he lit up a cigarette.
A security guard, not Chi Xang but a much bigger and stronger looking guy with a fierce expression came over and grabbed the cigarette from Harry's mouth. Then he pointed to a sign that Harry had seen but ignored. "No smoking." He said and stalked away.
"Party pooper," Harry muttered as he looked around some more.
His eyes rested on a black book propped up in a display behind wooden goblets and chains made of gold.
Immediately Harry sensed something coming off it, and without a thought he reached for his wand in his pocket.
Calm down, Harry, he said to himself and took two deep breaths. Then he pulled out his wand and eyed the security guard from the corner of his eye. The man was looking straight at him!
He gulped, feeling uncharacteristically out of shape. "You gotta do this more often Harry, you're losing your skills," he said to himself and then pointed his wand straight at the security guard. "Stupefy," he said. The guard ducked at once and reached for his gun but Harry was way ahead of him.
When the guard looked up, Harry was gone.
And so was the black book.
Al that was left was the faint echo of a popping noise.
---
Harry opened the door to his apartment, breathing heavily and sweating hard. Why was he so scared… Why did he feel so weird?
The book! He realized too late because as he tried to let go of the book he found he couldn't. His arms and legs had turned into stone, not literally but it felt like dead weight. He couldn't move.
But he could move his neck for some reason and he moved it so his eyes rested on the black book. It was like no other, its covers were black but its pages were yellowish with age. Not only that but there was a symbol of a spider etched into the front of the cover. What freaked Harry out was that the spider's eyes were gleaming red.
"Oh shit, a horcrux," Harry thought in alarm and tried to shake the book off some more. It wouldn't come off. Gradually he felt his will draining away.
He didn't want to be possessed by the book or anything, who would? But it seemed that was going to happen. "No, I won't let some lousy old book take control of me!" Harry snarled out and banged his hand against his door. The door smashed open, that's how hard Harry the door. So much that its hinges were broken. Never let it be said that Harry didn't have strength because he was a maniac, smashing the book against the new T.V he had bought, smashing it against his table and two chairs, smashing it through the windows, and smashing it everywhere he could think of.
But it wasn't working. The book wasn't coming off and gradually Harry felt himself weaken. No this couldn't end like… like… this. He had to do something and fast too.
Then all of a sudden he started laughing as a thought struck him.
He had no soul.
How could the book possess him if he had no soul? It was probably just trying to influence his mind but now that he saw through the sham…
The book dropped effortlessly to the floor. Harry jumped back and eyed it cautiously. Should he touch it again? Why not, there was no way the book could try that shit again. But he would have to get rid of it. Thankfully, he had experience with horcruxes. A lot of experience, actually about six horcruxes worth. The final one, Nagini was kept under lock and key so to speak, and guarded twenty four seven by Lord Voldemort.
Cautiously, he opened the cover flap, and saw that there was something written on the pages of the book in spidery thin handwriting. The ink itself was blood red, so much so that Harry thought for a moment that maybe it really was blood.
The ink was like a scrawl across the page, kinda like a knife wound across a painting. It sort of spoiled the pages. Harry picked up the book and went over to the armchair on the balcony, the one that overlooked the ocean because he had two balconies, one in the front and one in the back. He started reading the book, even though at first the print was a little hard to make out. But gradually it got clearer and clearer as he got used to the handwriting.
"Who are you, human? Why have you disturbed my rest? What are you…" It went on this way, merely asking questions. The thing was, it seemed like an invisible hand was writing all this. The hand wrote slow and methodically, Harry could read much faster than the hand could write.
He thought of his second year at Hogwarts, and Tom Riddle's diary. This was sort of like the diary. Would it be safe trying to write in here? Well since he had no soul, what could possibly happen?
He let the book rest on the banister of the balcony and went in the kitchen where he opened a drawer right beside his white fridge, and took out a shiny ballpoint pen, BIC company. He had bought a whole pack of these yesterday. He went back to the balcony, sprawled himself on the purplish bluish armchair and started scribbling on the empty pages of the book. Every time he wrote something the ink disappeared.
He started asking the book some questions, Who are You? Why are you in there? What are you doing? Stuff like that. Surprisingly the book answered and Harry learnt some pretty shocking things…
I am an ancient Babylonian warrior trapped in this book. An evil spirit named Grendel put me in this, and now I am trapped here for all eternity. I've been watching the world pass by and have moved around for many a year. It is the first time I ever sensed a being alike to me – someone who is empty at the likes of a vessel, unfulfilled.
You have no soul, do you?
Harry answered truthfully. No I don't.
Neither do I, young one. What is your name?
Harry scrawled his reply.
Well, then, Harry Potter, would you like to help me get out of this?
Harry answered: No.
Why not? I could be of use to you.
How? Harry wrote.
I could tell you the location of many ancient magical treasures, if you will let me. But first you need to free me, to do this wave your wand around this book three times and repeat these words: Wassingus, Wordumassi, Putargi, Winxi, Robar. Can you do it?
Harry wrote, What will this do to me?
Nothing, I swear on my life. You have no soul, I cannot hurt you and you can't hurt me either. What will it hurt to try?
Harry wondered what to do. Should he listen to this book? What if it was all a lie?
Still the treasures appealed to his greed. Yes, maybe freeing this person would be the right thing to do.
His biggest mistake.
Harry took out his wand and waved it over the book three times while saying: Wassingus, Wordumassi, Putargi, Winxi, Robar!"
At first nothing happened but then the book started to glow an evil greenish color like the slime in a gutter and a sort of bulby ghostlike form started to rise. Harry stepped back in alarm as the form rose up in the air and took the shape of a giant of a man.
If you could call him a man. He had the face of a cobra, the eyes of a dragon, the ears of an elf, the body of a gigantic half bear half human, and scaly lizard feet. "You have freed me from my prison!" The man said, his voice echoed like thunder, and when he spoke clouds started to form around him overhead. Heavy black clouds. All of a sudden it started to rain, and lightning flashed behind the man… or demon.
"W-what are you?"
"Your worst enemy," the man replied and then started laughing. "You may call me… Grendel the Ancient."
"Shut up! You're nothing, y'hear? I summoned you so I control you-"
"Foolish human," Grendel said, mockingly as he waved his bear like hand. "Do you really think you can compare to me? I am great, I am powerful, I am strong and I am immortal."
Harry raised his wand in front of him, "Begone, fiend," he said, "Lumos Maximus."
An intense ball of light started to grow from the tip of Harry's wand, and then extended outward toward Grendel the Ancient.
Grendel screamed, "No!"
"I know what kind of creature you are," Harry said, smirking. "I read about you people once. Ancient demons that roamed the Earth. You are the last of them, aren't you?"
"Put that light out. Put it out! Put it out!" Grendel screamed.
"I know what your weakness is," Harry said and then chuckled softly. "You only exist in the shadows. Where there is light, there is illumination. And where there is illumination, there is good. And where there is good, evil cannot exist. BEGONE DEMON!"
The white light started to increase in intensity until Grendel started screaming in pain. "I'll come back, Harry Potter," Grendel said and then vanished in a puff of black euphoric smoke.
Harry coughed and cut out the light spell. The clouds had cleared now, and the sun shone brightly all around. But his heart was pumping like a train and just when he had started to relax he found he unleashed a demon bigger than anything he had ever faced before, including Lord Voldemort.
What could he do now?
He started to moan from exhaustion, the demon's very presence was like a dementor. Harry knew the demon would return again come nightfall and he would have to be prepared. Maybe the demon would take some time to heal, so perhaps it would attack again in a week or so, Harry didn't know.
All he knew was that the demon would return, and Harry would have to be prepared. To be prepared he needed information, and he knew just where to get it too: Hogwarts Library.
He ran out the door, taking nothing with him but his wand, which he held tightly in his right hand. He jogged all the way to the market, where there was a rickshaw waiting for a passenger. He climbed aboard, "Take me to the docks, quickly!" He yelled out.
"Yes, Harry Potter," said the rickshaw man, grinning.
Harry felt his blood go cold, his heart stopped beating, his face blanched as the rickshaw man turned around… revealing Grendel's cobra like face. "How you doin'?" Grendel asked, chuckling madly. Inside the rickshaw was dark. Harry moved on pure instinct, he raised his wand and yelled out, "Avada Kedavra!"
Grendel opened his mouth, revealing a dark substance inside like a black hole. Harry's eyes widened as Grendel simply swallowed the Avada Kedavra spell like it was pudding or jello or something. Then Grendel gulped, and grinned, "Yummy," he said, red eyes whirling madly.
Harry swallowed and jumped out the way he had come in, landing in the middle of the road. He started running, wand still clutched in his hand. The sun was out so Grendel wouldn't dare follow him, would he? Harry hoped not.
He could not be in any place dark or else Grendel would catch him. He had read about the demons like Grendel before; they lived in the shadows and fed on human emotions, there were only fifty of them at one time but slowly Merlin hunted these demons down and killed them all one by one. It was a long and bitter war that cost Merlin his life, as well as the lives of thirty excellent mages, the entire sect of the Wizards of the Round Table, and a host of knights and brave warriors.
Now one of them was lose, what looked like the most powerful one of all. Maybe Merlin had sealed the demon into that book, but oh god, Harry moaned to himself as he ran down the busy street, now the demon's back.
What could he ever do now? This demon thing was probably worse than Voldemort, hell Voldemort was just a five year old compared to the demon here. He needed information, he needed ways to defeat this demon.
No, he needed people who had information and suddenly he got the idea. He kicked himself for overlooking this trivial fact.
What year was it? He knew he was in the body of a little child, but he didn't know what year it was, now did he?
"Timerus," he said, waving his wand. Orange liquid poured into the air in front of the wand that moved along as Harry ran. It formed a date: January 12th, 1945.
Good god, 1945?!
This was ridiculous. How could he end up in 1945? Why that was the year Tom Riddle went to school, wasn't it? And…
His parents would be alive. Well at least his grand parents at least. He had to get some serious help. Hell maybe even Voldemort could help him. He needed to get all the smart people on board, and fast too.
He knew the value of having a team of smart people at your beck and call. That's why he could survive the war, he had Hermione, Dumbledore and the entire department of mysteries and those unspeakables were absolute scholar fanatics. They loved knowledge and therefore Harry loved them. They were his secret weapon kinda, because with them he could survive his battles with Voldemort and be ready for tomorrow as well.
So now that he was in a new world he needed smart people. Where would he get smart people? Why at Hogwarts of course.
But he couldn't stay in the shadows. He looked around the busy street where people were hauling carts, women with babies in one hand and grocery bags in another and-
Oh god, there was Grendel looking out from a one story house. Nobody else could see him though. The demon stayed well in the shadows.
Harry's face whitened, he didn't know what to do. Could Grendel teleport or something?
Well, two can play at that game, Harry thought to himself, and apparrated out to the docks.
The docks was a wide area that covered Morocco's entire shoreline. It was filled with all sorts of ships from cargo warehouse ships, to cruise and luxery floats to ferries to little puny fishing boats. Harry thought he could take a boat and maybe sail it to Hogwarts. How hard could it be to stay in the light? With maybe a wind spell he could easily traverse the ocean to Europe, which he guessed was somewhere North East, and reach England's coast. From there he could apparrated to Hogsmaede, and probably make Hogwarts by nightfall.
Albus Dumbledore would know what to do, Harry thought. Meanwhile, he tried not to look back as he secured a ship. Because every time he looked back or even into the water he saw Grendel's face looking back at him, sharp triangular red eyes whirling like mad, and that cobra face with the slits for nose. Why that was more snake like than even Voldemort, and that was saying something.
NEXT CHAPTER:
Harry goes to Hogwarts, or tries to but along the way he has to face fierce weather charms, monsters Grendel summons from the oceans, and Grendel himself. Can he get to Hogwarts in time? And can he get Dumbledore on his team?