Harry Potter & the Egg of Behelit
The Black Swordsman
His sanguinary rage went beyond the berserkergang experienced by the desperate and the insane. He was in a state of supreme anger, and in that state he could do anything, kill anything.
His blade cut broad arcs, smashing ghouls like children's toys. He left no survivors in his trail, only bones and scraps of flesh. They piled around him, torn apart, motionless piles of the dead. He was distantly aware of the two survivors, but he did not care who they were, or if they survived.
Perhaps hours passed, or maybe only minutes. Whatever the case, he suddenly realized he was alone. Ghouls lay on either side, shattered. The wagon sat in the middle of the woods, the horses. The survivors had run Gatts dragged himself forward, panting. His sword dragged along the ground, leaving a deep furrow. Finally, he reached the wagon and looked inside. Blood stains and a dead man.
Gatts shrugged and got inside.
The dead man lay face down, having bled profusely on the ground. Gatts started rifling through the crates and bags. His search was rewarded with bread.
As Gatts sat, eating quickly. A crow cawed. Gatts leaned forward and peaked outside. The scavengers had already descended on the ghouls, tearing at their flesh. The birds danced about, biting savagely. Gatts shrugged and continued eating.
You can't escape… The voice dripped wickedness.
Gatts dropped the bread.
We'll never stop hunting you…
"Get away," snarled the swordsman.
You can't run away…
Gatts stumbled out of the wagon. "Fuck off!" he screamed.
We nip at your heels, even now…
Gatts raised his mechanical arm. The hand folded back; the concealed cannon fired into nothingness.
The spirits fell silent.
-
Hermione stared at the epic quantity of paperwork on her desk, looming over her like the Tower of London over its latest inmate.
Jeez, she thought, If I had known Harry was subjected to a fraction of this on a daily basis, I wouldn't have pestered him about house elves so much.
Deciding that a break would be expedient to her work, Hermione reclined for a few moments. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement was in chaos – with half of their best aurors vanished, dark magicians were growing bolder and magical crime was increasing rapidly. Sighing, Hermione leaned forward and pulled out a blank piece of parchment.
Ron,
Gonna be a late night. Make dinner for the kids.
Hermione
She folded up the parchment and wrote her and Ron's name and address on the outside. Then, she tapped it once with her wand. It flew up in the air and darted off to the mail room. Resigned to her fate, Hermione grabbed a paper of her desk and began scrawling.
After a few moments, there was a knock on her door. "Ma'am?" inquired a nervous voice.
"Yes?" asked Hermione, looking up.
The door opened. A mousy-looking woman came in, nervously holding a letter. "I'm a courier, ma'am. I was asked to deliver this to you." She deposited the letter on the desk. Hermione picked up, curiously, and saw the return address.
Borgin & Burkes
182 Knockturn Alley
Diagon Alley, London
"Thank you," said Hermione, quietly, and gave the woman a few galleons. When she was gone, Hermione cut open the envelope and pulled out the letter.
Miss Granger:
We indeed have the item you are looking for. We are holding it for you for exactly one month. It is priced at 2000 galleons.
Sincerely
C. Burkes
Hermione quickly placed the letter in her desk and magically locked it.
As she left her office, her secretary looked up, surprised.
"Going home, Ma'am?"
"Not quite. I just have some business that needs attending to." Hermione pulled on her cloak. "I'll be back shortly."
-
Harry froze. The forest had seemed to go on for miles. Victoire had lapsed into an oblivious silence; she stared at the ground, grunting responses when Harry tried to speak with her.
Finally, the end of the woods was near.
"Look," said Harry, awestruck.
Victoire looked up, and her expression changed.
Looming over them was a giant castle, surrounded by lean-to buildings. Farms stretched on for around; farmers tilled the fields in the warm sun; the looked no more than ants at this distance.
"Where are we?" whispered Victoire.
"I'm willing to bet that it isn't London," offered Harry.
They set off down the road. The Sun was beating down mercilessly, and the land was suffering for it. The crops and farmers looked sickly and parched; the ground was hard and dusty; winds blew across the land, starting dust devils that threw sand into the sky. An air of desolation and depression hung about the place; refugees were crouched in tents along the roadside. Harry frowned.
"This looks like medieval Europe," he muttered.
"We've traveled back in time?"
"It's within the realm of possibility."
"But why would they want us in the dark ages, or whatever?"
"Why did they turn Ted into a monster? I have no idea."
Victoire fell silent. After a while, they approached the city gates. People of all sorts streamed through the stone walls, under the watchful eye of the city guard. The guard wore plate armor and carried tall halberds.
As they entered, something grisly met them.
Inside, a guillotine sat on a raised platform; people swarmed it, shoving one another for a better look. A young woman was being dragged up the steps; she struggled every inch of the way, screaming for mercy. Harry stared, aghast.
On another platform sat a fat, robed man sitting comfortably beneath the overhanging cloth. Next to him was a wizened old herald; the herald stood, producing a scroll. "For the crimes of witchcraft, consortium with demons, and the sacrifice of newborn babes, this woman is sentenced to death!"
The crowd muttered. Their discontent was etched on their faces. Harry looked up at the condemned, then down at Victoire; the two looked remarkably alike. He furrowed his brow.
"Victoire, are you all right?"
"Yeah," she grunted.
"You look pale."
"I'm fine," she said, quietly. Harry shrugged and looked back up.
The girl was forced in the guillotine. The blade was being raised. Harry's fists clenched. He could do nothing… guards were everywhere.
"I'm innocent!" shrieked the girl, still trying to struggle free.
The blade descended. Victoire looked away.
Two heads hit the ground.
There was sudden pandemonium. People fled screaming as the blade traveled in wide arcs. Harry knew that blade. That swordsman?!
Victoire stepped back. "How did he get here so quickly?"
The swordsman knelt down, picked up the severed head of the guard, and flung it at the herald. The old man cried out and ducked. The head hit the platform with a splat.
The fat man reached down, nonchalantly, and picked it up. He gazed into its eyes, blissfully unaware of the panic in the crowd. He looked up. "This is a declaration of war, I suppose," he called out.
The Dark Swordsman grinned widely, and took off running. The guards made chase, blades at the ready.
-
A bell sounded as Hermione stepped into Borgin and Burke's.
The shop was filled, as always, with disgusting and highly suspect things. Pieces of human bodies, supposed posessions of dark wizards – one exhibit claimed to contain Voldemort's robe – and, of course, weird amulets and charms from all across the world. Hermione stepped towards the counter, and suddenly Burke appeared, seemingly out of nowhere.
"Mrs. Granger!" he said in a fawning, slavish manner. "How good it is to see you!"
"Mr. Burke," she replied, coldly. "You have it?"
"I do."
He ducked down behind the counter. Hermione glanced around the shop. She would dearly love to find something that could put him in jail. Lamentably, there was nothing illegal as such; at least nothing Hermione could notice in the short time Burke was hidden from view.
He emerged holding a black ebony box. "This is not the actual Egg, you should know," Burke said.
"Oh?"
"There are many things called the 'Egg of Behelit.' Alas, there is only one – and it has vanished with Theodore Lupin."
"I see. If this isn't the Egg, then what is it?"
"A lesser copy of the original. Whatever its function, this does the same thing, only less effectively."
"I see."
"This was very difficult to procure, I hope you realize."
"I said I would pay."
Hermione reached inside her robe and produced a purse. She dropped it on the counter. Burke opened it and quickly counted the galleons. "Thank you, Mrs. Granger. Come again!"
Hermione swiped up the egg and left.