A/N: well, once again im finding myself quite happy with all of the reviews im getting. I rather enjoyed last chapter and im happy to know that you guys did to. But now it comes to the real meat of things happening. Also, im glad you guys liked Patchwork! He is my favorite OC yet! He's like a big, stupid, loyal dog (made of sown up body parts). A lot of stuff will be revealed this chapter, so it will be longer then the others. But im rambling. So without further ado, he comes chapter 4 of Rise of the Forsaken!
Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter or Warcraft, I do have a lv 66 Undead Warlock on Medivh though.
"talking"
'thinking'
SSParceltongueSS
'mindspeak'
Chapter 4: Explanations and Bonding
'Hello, Harry Potter, Heir of Menethil. I am your inheritance. I… am FrostMourne.'
The pronouncement from the blade in Harry's hand seemed to reverberate throughout his entire being. He recognized the voice of the blade. He recognized it all too easily.
"You! It's been your voice goading me!" He exclaimed out loud.
'Now, now, there's no need to yell at me is there? I mean, its not like you would've come otherwise. No, you'd still be Dumbledore's little puppet savior, all ready to be a martyr for the cause.' But now… now you have a chance, don't you?'
Harry calmed himself a bit before replying, "Do I? I don't know. I really have very little idea what I have gained from coming here. …Explain."
The presence Harry could feel emanating from FrostMourne seemed to stiffen a bit. 'Very well. If you wish to know what you have gained, I will explain it to you. To do this though, I will have to start at the beginning. Is that acceptable.'
"Yes," Harry replied, becoming impatient. "Just start talking."
'As you have surmised, I am a runeblade, the one mentioned when you learned of your inherited titles. What is not mentioned is the fact that I am so much more than a simple runeblade. I have existed for well over a thousand years now and have had several hundred wielders, every one of them one of your ancestors. And, like your ancestors, I was not originally of this world.'
"What one bloody moment," Harry broke in. "Are you trying to say that my ancestors are from an entirely different world? That YOU were made on an entirely different world?"
'Yes that is exactly what I am trying to tell you. Now stop talking and let me finish explaining! Now, the Menethil family was originally a line of kings, of a human kingdom called Lorderon on the world of Azeroth. Azeroth was a world that was very different from this one, where every race lived openly and magic was accepted as a daily part of life. However, that abundance of magical energy eventually led to that world's downfall. For the arcane energies that were being used on Azeroth attracted the attention of a being known as Sargeras and his army, the Burning Legion.
Sargeras, a being with godlike power, was bent on using his legions of demons to cleanse the universe of all life, starting with worlds that were magically advanced. For thousands of years the legion rampaged across the universe, burning whole worlds to ash in the burning crusade against life. No force had ever been able to oppose them. But the first time they attacked Azeroth, they were driven back. Their way into the world denied to them, the legion pulled back, and began planning, scheming to break into Azeroth once more. Eventually, they came across the world of Dranor. Corrupting the inhabitants of the world, they had portals opened to Azeroth, causing great wars between the peoples of Azeroth and Dranor. Finally, with every race on Azeroth weakened, the demons launched their plan. They created the Undead.
Subjecting the spirit of a being called Ner'zhul, they cast him into the frozen north and gave him a plague of undeath, with which to sow havoc upon the living. Conquering the Nerubian spider empire of Northrend, Ner'zhul, who came to be known as the Lich King, set his sights on the human kingdom of Lorderon. Creating a cult of followers through the use of agents, the most prominent of which was named Kel'thuzad, a human wizard of great power, he spread the plague throughout Lorderon, beginning its destruction. However, Ner'zhul was not satisfied with his lot. He knew that as soon as the demons were done using him, they would dispose of him. So he created a means of getting a new corporeal body. He created me.'
"Wait, How could you help this Ner'zhul guy get a new body," Harry asked confused, planning on holding his reservations about talking to something made by what clearly sounded like a dark entity for after the explanation.
'Its rather simple really. When I was created I was a vampiric runeblade. In short, I drained the life out of what I cut and the soul out of my wielder, binding him to the Ner'zhul's will. The Lich King cleverly began to draw the young champion and prince of Lorderon, Arthas Menethil to Northrend. There, driven by desperation at the forces of Undead he was facing and his anger at what they had done to his homeland, Arthas, despite knowing that I was cursed, took me up and used me to destroy the forces arrayed against him, who were conveniently led by the demon overseer of Ner'zhul. Driven insane by the Lich Kings whisperings that he began to hear as soon as he took me up, Arthas became a Death Knight, sworn to the Lich King's service, and destroyed the kingdom that he had once sworn to defend. He led the Lich Kings undead armies if the Scourge on a rampage throughout every land adjacent to his homeland, sacking not only human kingdoms but the ancient elven land of Quel'thalas. While destroying the elves, he killed and raised the spirit of the elven general, Sylvanus Windrunner, turning her into a dark banshee. Eventually, the entire continent was subdued, and Arthas confident in his rule.
As all of this was taking place however, two things were happening. First, the Burning Legion had been defeated by a collation of races in the lands of Kalimdor. The second thing that happened was the Lich King losing much of his power. Creating me left a crack in the Lich King's icy prison, through which his power was leaking out. As he lost power, his control over the undead began to wane. It was because of this, that Sylvanus, who had served the Lich King in her mindless state, regained her free will, along with many others. Staging a rebellion, they drove Arthas out of the capitol of his newly formed kingdom, and claimed it for their own, establishing themselves as the Forsaken, a nation of free willed undead. Arthas went north, to the Lich King's Frozen throne, to defend his master from enemies who had thought to destroy him in his moment of weakness. Defeating his foes, Arthas climbed the icy steps leading to the throne and stood before it. At the Lich Kings urging, Arthas thrust me into the throne, breaking it, and joining the spirit of Ner'zhul to Arthas, creating a new entity, and changing me. With my original purpose fulfilled, I was made more powerful, but was made to stop stealing the soul of my wielder.
Arthas, now the Lich King, led the Scourge in his own campaign to conquer Azeroth. Despite his insanity, which had not been undone by the joining, he very nearly succeeded in his goals. The only thing that stopped him was an attack on Icecrown itself, the seat of his power, by a coalition of every other nation in the world, led by Sylvanus Windrunner, Banshee Queen of the Forsaken, wielder of the Black Bow NightSong. However, it was not victory in battle that stopped him. It was betrayal.
While Sylvanus and her forces fought Arthas and his forces to a stalemate, her "allies" sought to cast a spell that would cast the undead, all of them, into the twisting nether, the chaotic dimension between the world where the Burning Legion dwelled. However, Arthas and Sylvanus, who were locked in an epic duel on the very top of Icecrown, both sensed the spellwork. In a moment of mutual understanding, they cut short their battle and used their vast magical energies, augmented by me and NightSong, to redirect the spell, the most they could do, to throw them and their peoples to another world, rather then into the Nether. Finishing their work at the same instant as the other races cast the spell, Sylvanus, NightSong, Arthas, every undead present, and me were thrown through the nether to this world.
We landed in the far north, in the artic circle, near the top of the world. The battle would likely have recommenced immediately, if not for one major factor; the energy of the nether, as well as of this world, changed us. Every undead, Scourge and Forsaken both, found that they had their free will back, and Arthas regained his sanity. Despite the enmity for each other that they had, the Lich King and Banshee Queen called a truce to discern just what kind of world they were in and what their next course of action would be. What they found was astounding.
One of the constants of undeath had always been the fact that the undead were little more than risen spirits and walking corpses, much like Patchwork who you encountered outside of the vault. However, many undead found that they were regenerating. They ere still clearly undead, but were becoming something more than what they had been. It was discovered that these regenerated undead retained all of the advantages of undeath, while regaining many of the uses of life, such as a fully functional body, the five senses, and the ability to breed. They became a true breeding race, and as such deemed that change was needed.
The regenerated undead fell into four primary types; former Nerubians, who kept their old name, former Humans, who began to call themselves the Turned, former elves, who had become Greater Banshees like Sylvanus had done when she acquired NightSong, and Draknids, who were once being known as dragonspawn, what you might equate to a dragon version of a centaur. These four new races of undead, each led by their chosen leaders, decided to form a new society in the cold north. They united as the Forsaken, for they were truly forsaken by all. The new nation was led by a council, upon which each races leader sat. Most importantly, Arthas, who became leader of the Turned, and Sylvanus, who led the Banshees, each had a seat on the council. Eventually, the Forsaken became a major nation, controlling the entire north. However, it was not to last.
The undead had first arrived during the time of Merlin, about five hundred years before the founding of Hogwarts and because they were relatively few after such a great battle, they went unnoticed, however, by the time of the founders, they began to attract notice from wizards. This stemmed mostly from the fact that the Forsaken had begun making overtures to the only undead native to this world, the vampires, to get them to join the Forsaken. The founders and others, upon learning of thousands of Undead existing north of them, were gripped with fear, however irrational. Convinced that the Forsaken would eventually seek to destroy them, they set about preparing a mighty spell that would eliminate the threat. Eventually, they finished the spell work, and a circle of over one hundred arch wizards, led by the four founders themselves, cast the spell, which removed the entire Forsaken kingdom from then rest f the world, casting them into a pocket dimension. Their only miscalculation was thinking that all the Forsaken were in their homeland. They were almost correct, save for two, the then Lich King and Banshee Queen, Durran Menethil and Aliana Windrunner.
When those two sensed what had happened to their people, they immediately set about trying to find a way to reverse it. However, much to their dismay, they found that they did not have the requisite power to accomplish this feat. Casting the spell took hundreds of powerful spellcasters, however undoing it would be even harder. Eventually, the two of them formed a desperate plan. They altered the nature of NightSong and me, by making us symbiotic. The basic change that occurred was this; every wielder of NightSong or I would leave a piece of their soul in us, and to balance it out we would become a part of them so to speak, bonded to them by the piece of them in us. With this change, we would eventually have enough power from all of our wielders that at some point our wielders could break the enchantment on the Forsaken freeing them. After they did that, they faded into the background, living their lives and amassing wealth and power, so that their descendents could have the resources they needed to live and eventually free their people. Their line passed down, eventually fading into obscurity, before they were unfortunately discovered by a wizard organization known as the Scarlet Guard.
The Scarlet Guard had been formed at the time of the sealing of the Forsaken, with the goal of eliminating any remaining undead that may have escaped the spell. They remained ever vigilante, and almost by accident discovered the presence of the Menethil and Windrunner line outside of the spell. Eventually they hunted down and destroyed the then wielders of NightSong and me, but not before our wielders were able to hide both their children and us away, us in the vaults you stand in now, the children in a pair of muggle families, having used powerful magic to hide their heritage. Thus, until recently, the Scarlet Guard was unaware of the survival of the Menethil and Windrunner lines.'
"When Dumbledore found out about my mothers heritage," Harry said, realizing what FrostMourne meant. He was rather stunned by the tale he had just heard a tale of the birth of a race and great battles. He found it very hard to believe, but believe it he did. Something in him just screamed to him that it was true, it had to be true. He was considering all of this when a new question came to him,
"You mentioned that my ancestors were of a race of undead called the Turned. If that is the case, then why is it that I am fully human? Wouldn't I also have the blood of my ancestor's race flowing through my veins?
'You do. Its just currently sealed away, both by the magic of your ancestors to hide your line from the Scarlet Guard and by Dumbledore, who realized what you were but couldn't afford to kill you because of the prophecy. Dumbledore's blocks pose a problem though.'
"I'm assuming that Dumbledore is a member of this Scarlet Guard you mentioned?"
'He is, though that's not the problem. He may be powerful, but he's still mortal. No the problem is that the blocks he placed on top of your Menethil heritage are a form that grows stronger over time. Your heritage would have emerged on its own on your seventeenth birthday, the magic binding it sensing that NightSong and I had enough strength that once you were trained you could break the spellwork the founders worked. However, by that time, the blocks Dumbledore placed on your heritage will have grown to strong to be broken in that manner, which would have unfortunate side effects on you. Which means that they need to be taken off as soon as possible. That is, unless you wish to turn your back on your heritage?'
Harry had to think about that one. On the one hand, he had Dumbledore, who had been trying to manipulate him since day one, had placed him with the Dursleys, had kept numerous secrets from him, and was to blame for Sirius' twelve years in Azkaban. On the other hand, he had his heritage, a chance at power and revenge, but at the cost of effectively turning dark and becoming something other than human and a part of his soul. In the end it came down to one thing… his morals, or his life. In the end, it wasn't really that hard of a decision at all.
"How do we do it?"
Harry got the impression of a grin from the sword. 'I was hoping you would say something along those lines. It's pretty simple really. The moment you put on the Menethil ring it created a spider web of cracks in the familial barrier, making it so it will shatter with very little force needed. However, to break Dumbledore's blocks after sixteen long years will require you to learn to wield me effectively, to use my power as your own. That means that you will have to bond with me.
Harry hesitated a bit upon hearing that, but reminded himself that he had made his decision. "How?" he asked.
'Simply take me from my rack on the wall and allow me to taste some of your blood. The rest will attend to itself.'
Harry nodded before taking FrostMourne in his hands. The sword seemed almost weightless in his hands, and fairly pulsed with power. Taking a breath and bracing himself, Harry held the blade horizontally before him and ran his hand over the edge, cutting himself and letting his blood run over the blade. He tried his best to ignore the icy pain in his hand as he watched as the blood was slowly absorbed into the metal of the blade. For a moment, nothing else happened. Then, the runes on the sword began to pulse an icy blue, and Harry was suddenly engulfed in pain. Each pulse of the runes caused another wracking pain to shudder through him, and he began to scream at the pain. It was almost unbearable. His vision began to dim around its edges, and eventually, amid blinding pain, Harry's world went dark.
The Windrunner vault, with Hermione.
'I am glad to know that you are going to accept your heritage, young lady of Windrunner. It will be nice to have someone to use me again, rather than sitting in this old vault for eternity.'
Hermione nodded confidently in return, hefting the NightSong over her shoulder. She had already begun to suspect something of what would be asked of her as soon as she had seen Patchwork, and considering her internal conflict over whether or not the use of the Dark Arts are evil, she was pretty easily convinced by the tale NightSong had told her. As far as she was concerned, the only reason her doubts were appearing in the first place was the truth of her heritage beginning to shine through. The feeling she had gotten when she put on the ring was so right that she decided almost immediately to embrace her newfound heritage. She had begun to be wary of anything Dumbledore said anyway, and he was almost certainly responsible for this being kept a secret from her.
The bonding she had gone through with NightSong had been an intense experience, not entirely devoid of pain, but that was bound to happen when your soul was being joined to a weapon. NightSong had mentioned to her that this was partly because her soul and magic were largely devoid of outside influences, with only, she was disgusted to find the lingering effects of a few love potions someone had been slipping her. These NightSong purged during the bonding, which caused additional pain. Hermione cringed at what Harry was likely going through, assuming he had decided to accept his heritage. With all of the outside influences on him, what from Voldemort and likely Dumbledore, he was likely in agony.
'So, what do we do now?' Hermione asked NightSong, speaking through her mind.
'Well, until FrostMourne and Harry are bonded there won't be much to get done, as it was decided that both heirs must be present and bonded with their weapons before they would be allowed to learn the magics of their heritage. However, I can give you a brief run through on some of what I can do while directing you to the Vault's Library. Its not as big or well stocked as the Faranel library, but that's in the Undercity and thus inaccessible for now.'
'You had me at library, just tell me where to go.'
Hermione got a distinct feeling of amusement from NightSong before hearing, 'Behind where I was hanging on the wall there should be a carving of a raven clutching a bow in its talons. Press it and follow the hallway til you come to the fifth door on the right, then all you have to do is follow the pathway from that do and take your first left.'
Hermione found the carving that the sentient bow had spoken of and pressed it, causing the entire wall to slide up into the ceiling, revealing a hallway. As she began to walk, Hermione asked, 'So, just what can you do anyway?'
'Well first off I act as a focus for any and all of the magics you will learn from your heritage, as well as most other spells as well. You'll be able to use me instead of your wand in many instances, most specifically battle. In addition, pulling back on my draw string can cause one of two types of arrows of energy to form, depending on your intent, ice arrows that freeze their targets and necromantic arrows that drain life and can cause a slain foe to rise up as a mindless servant to do battle in your name. Oh yeah, I can also be used to summon any lesser undead that are bonded to me as servants, such as Patchwork. Besides that, you can use me for many rituals that only work with weapons such as me, and you are able to summon me to you from anywhere, owing to the piece of your soul that now rests within me and the piece of my power that resides within you. Impressive, isn't it?'
Hermione was impressed, if a bit freaked out by some of the abilities, mostly the ability to raise her enemies as mindless undead slaves. She wasn't sure if se would want to go that far, despite NightSong's obvious eagerness to do things like that. Hermione wasn't too surprised by that. The bow was a weapon after all, despite its intelligence. She had resolved to learn the dark arts, but that was a bit much.
All thoughts were pushed out of Hermione's head though, as she turned the last corner and beheld the library. It was huge, at least three times larger than the Hogwarts Library, and every book was sure to be rare and filled with powerful knowledge.
'Its official, I love my new inheritance.'
Back with Harry
Harry found himself standing in the middle of a void, floating along totally alone. He was a bit disoriented. 'What the hell happened? The last thing I remember was beginning the bonding with FrostMourne, and then blinding pain, and then passing out. Wait, blinding pain?' "FrostMourne! You never said anything about that much pain!" he shouted into the darkness around him.
"I didn't realize there would be that much." Came the unexpected reply. "Besides, I thought it would be pretty obvious that doing something like bonding your soul to a weapon would involve a certain amount of pain. As it is, the only reason you felt that much pain was because you had some additional outside influences affecting you. I hadn't accounted for them." As the reply finished, the figure of an armored man with snow-white hair and eyes that blazed an icy blue appeared in front of Harry in the abyss.
"Uh, FrostMourne, why are you appearing in that form? And where are we?"
"I'm appearing in this form because it is the one I chose, and we are currently in the area around your magical core. As I said, there were a few things I hadn't accounted for when the bonding began. The bonding cleanses the person bonding with me of any outside magical influences that he did not have put on willingly. I knew about the blocks Dumbledore put on you, but only because it was wrapped around the part of you I can easily sense, the Turned part. However, you also had a few lingering love potions, a loyalty spell that has only recently begun to degrade, and, well, that." He finished, pointing.
Harry turned in the void and was stunned by what he saw. It was a huge ball of light that shined with many different colors, and shone as brightly as the sun. About half of it was blocked off from the rest by a divider that shined red with many cracks running through it and a second layer of canary yellow, with one blue line piercing it all the way through, the half that shined with an icy blue glow mixed with tendrils of shadowy black. The other half was mostly light green and white, but had a spike of canary driven into it that seemed to be breaking down, as well as three smaller spikes of a brownish color. However, what FrostMourne was pointing at was much more noticeable than these. Attached to the ball was what looked like a giant black leech, tinged with dark green, with a black line shooting off into the distance protruding from its back. It seemed to shudder and pulsate, and the area of the ball around which it was attached was slowly becoming the same colors as the leech. It was all in all revolting.
"I'm assuming that the colored spikes and walls are magics, but what is that bug thing?" He asked.
"That, dear wielder, is what appears to be a portion of Voldemort's soul, implanted there when he cast that killing curse on you. It seems to be the source of the link between you, and seems to function by corrupting and siphoning off your magic and feeding it to him, as well as giving you a way into each others heads, though only he has been able to utilize that. Learning Occlumency might have helped, but the torture Snape put you through only really helped to secure the connection and make Voldemort more aware of it."
A portion of Voldemort's god cursed soul. He just had all the bloody luck in the world, having things like that stuck to him. "Sooooo, how do we go about squashing it?"
"Why squash it?"
"Beyond the fact that it's siphoning my magic and is allowing Voldemort to cause me pain?"
"Excuse me, what I meant was, why squash it when we can torture and mutilate it before sending the pain and shock of what we did to it through the link to Voldemort and destroying the link?" Harry looked at FrostMourne strangely for a few moments before shrugging. It's not as if Harry particularly cared how the leech was removed as long as it was. "If you really want to do it that way and can do it quickly, knock yourself out."
The armored form of FrostMourne grinned wickedly before walking over the leech and drawing a replica of the jagged blade. "This might sting a bit at first while I remove it from your core." He said, before stabbing the blade into the bug. Harry immediately felt a wave of pain rush through him, but it was relatively minor, and so Harry watched fascinated as the leech was slowly cut to pieces, drained of energy, frozen, and shattered, before FrostMourne began to drain a black energy from the remains before shooting it at the link. Harry watched with great satisfaction as the remains of the leech disappeared and the link to Voldemort disintegrated behind the wave of pain and suffering that was rushing towards Voldemort. Harry wondered how he would react…
With Voldemort
"Is that ALL, Wormtail?" Voldemort asked angrily. He was getting tired of listening to the rat whine while he gave reports. Having most of his inner circle in Azkaban was really annoying. Suddenly, pain like he had never felt, but had enjoyed dishing out, washed over him. He let out an involuntary gasp and shuddered as the pain ran through him. It seemed to last forever, before it finally stopped, leaving him panting.
"Master, are you… alright? Should I call the medic?" Voldemort just glared at Wormtail who gulped. "No Wormtail, I think that will be all, now leave me."
"Yes Master." Wormtail said, relieved at not getting a dose of cruciatus curse.
" Oh, and Wormtail?"
"Yes master?"
"CRUCIO!"
Back with Harry
Harry seemed to have the inexplicable need to grin all of a sudden, but wrote that off as finally being rid pf that slimy bit of Voldemort's soul. "So, what are we going to do about those other spells?"
"Well as far as the block Dumbledore put on you is concerned you won't be able to do anything about that til around the end of the summer most likely. However, I can get rid of the other spells right now, which will also complete the bonding between us. Should I do that now?" At Harry's nod, FrostMourne walked over to the remaining colored spikes and thrust his blade into each of them in turn, destroying them. With each thrust Harry felt a spike of pain, but each spell destroyed left him feeling lighter and cleaner then he felt before. Once all of the spells were destroyed, Harry felt a rush of power before a flash of light blinded him. When he opened his eyes again, He found himself lying on the floor in the vault right in front of where FrostMourne had hung. FrostMourne itself rest in his right hand, while his left hand was sporting a white scar across his palm.
'It is done… we are bonded.' Came the voice of FrostMourne reverberating through his mind.
'Well, care to tell me what that means I'll be able to use you for?'
'Of course. I can, of course, be used to cut things into tiny bits, but that's just a bit mundane. My main abilities that you will be able to accesses almost immediately are the ability to shoot bolts of frost and necromantic energy from the tip of my blade, as well as cast Wizarding spells through me. Also, there is a whole school of Arcane magic that the wizards of this world have yet to discover but which the Forsaken brought to this world from Azeroth. I work as an Arcane focus for those as well. Last but not least, I can be used to break enchantments that may be affecting you, and I can be used to summon lesser undead that are bound to me ritually, such as Patchwork, who is guarding the vault and I can never be separated from you unless you wish it.'
'All of which sounds very useful. Now, where should we go next? I'd imagine Hermione is waiting for us somewhere.'
'Yes, she's in the vaults library. NightSong just told me.'
'Figures. How do I get there?'
'Behind where I was hanging there should be a carving of a frozen hammer. Press that, and the wall will slide up t reveal a corridor. Just go down the Corridor to your first left and then take a right after that. That should take you to the library… if I remember right. I've never been down there much. Most of my wielders weren't all that big into the whole research every book, read every page idea. They were well read, but mostly on their own interests, in the library in Icecrown. Oh, and by the way, you might want to grab that sheath on the right side of the wall first and strap it on. After all, I imagine you don't want to be carrying me all the time.'
'Good point.'
Harry turned and found the sheath right where FrostMourne had said it was. It was pitch black, with skulls going up and down it. It had a strap on it that appeared to be designed for waist or back. Harry chose to strap it over his shoulder, and sheathed FrostMourne in it, leaving its hilt sticking out over his right shoulder. Then he found the carving on the wall that the sentient blade had mentioned, and pressed it.
The wall slid up, revealing a hallway just as FrostMourne had said, made up of green stone lined with torches glowing with an icy blue light. Following the path, Harry quickly made the first turn, before a question occurred to Harry. He asked it as he kept on moving. 'FrostMourne, just how big are these vaults anyway?'
'Pretty damn big. It's pretty much the equivalent of a fortress, with living quarters and all. It cost a lot of money to get the goblins to agree to let this be built here with an entrance through the vaults. As it was we had to sign binding contracts to not try and steal anything from other vaults, as well as teach the goblins how to enchant a weapon to channel necromantic energy, a skill that we had brought from Azeroth. I believe they lost the art a while back, and the only remaining weapon with that enchantment is being used by Ragnok the goblin king. There are several bedrooms, multiple magical laboratories, an eating hall connected to an auto-restocking kitchen, the library, several training rooms for different types of learning, a "kennel" for any creatures you may have, and a few other things that slip my mind. Its been a while since I had a wielder.'
'Me and Hermione have a lot of ground to cover then.'
Eventually Harry got to the first pair of doors in the second hallway. Taking FrostMourne's instruction, Harry turned to the door on the right, opened it and walked through it. The room he walked into was pitch black, and was clearly not a library.
'It's the other door, isn't it?'
'Yes, I suppose it is. I did say that my memory was a bit foggy about finding this place.'
Harry sighed and turned around, and took a step toward the door. Unfortunately, the stone where he stepped sunk into the ground. Causing the door to slam shut in front of Harry. He tried in vain to open it, but it wouldn't budge. Suddenly a torch lit up the room with the same icy blue flames as outside, then another, then another. Soon the entire room was illuminated. This brought Harry a bit of relief, but only until he turned from the door.
"WHO DARES DISTURB MY SLEEP!?!?!"
To be continued…
A/N: Whew, that was a haul. I hope it satisfied those of you who were looking for some background on where the crossover is coming from, as well as those of you looking for some story development. Of course I'm sure you all hate me for the cliffy, but think of it this way. The more reviews I get, the faster I'll update and you get to see what happens next. Aren't I a manipulative bastard?
"Patchwork like reviews. They make Patchwork happy. GIVE PATCHWORK REVIEWS!!!!"
Korrag
