Harry had a few ideas on how to continue, each as bad as the next. He decided to get some advice from Old Man Ollivander, and hopefully not get his ass chewed out for being an idiot and botching up the whole reason for the time-travel in the first place.
He apparated into a secluded section of Diagon alley and made his way over to the old wand shop. The tinkle of a bell rang out as he entered through the door.
Ollivander didn't bother with the theatrics as he greeted Harry. "Ah, Artemis, I wondered how long it would be before you came here. Alas, 7 years as a druid…"
"I got a problem." Harry said, skipping the formalities. "Salazar's dead but his son escaped with his journal with his notes on Horcruxes…"
"Ah. Well, nobody is perfect." The old man replied nonchalantly. He didn't look up from the blank wand he was carving at.
"That's… That's it?" Harry asked incredulously.
"No. It looks like there is nothing for it but damage control. An immortal man is not likely to stay quiet for long… just wait for them to pop up and then take them out."
Harry sighed. "So another Horcrux hunt, except this time I got no leads and no time frame."
"Essentially correct. But you can go looking for the man. When there is a will there is a way."
"I've been trying. I am convinced he is out of the country, everyone I ask has not seen him, which isn't really surprising."
"Well, before you leave the country, I suggest you take care of business on the home front first. Visit your tower, visit Rowena at Hogwarts… " The old man smirked and gave a hand motion that was common in the future for 'tosser'.
Harry rolled his eyes. 'Dirty old man…I wouldn't mind seeing more of Rowena though…'
"Maybe take a trip to Azkaban to learn a thing or two, find some spells to help you track that man across the sea. You will find that Azkaban is a somewhat popular place, there are a few dozen people there at any given time, learning what they can from the ancient trove of knowledge. I wouldn't hold your hopes too high for finding any secret knowledge though, the texts are all imported and the chief cataloguer knows everything that is there."
Harry nodded is understanding. "Right, so no obscure magic."
"I didn't say that. I said that you won't find anything that no one else will not already know. There is a future term for it… I believe 'public domain'?"
"Got it." Harry said. "Well, I guess I better get going. I've been gone for too long."
Harry apparated away. His first stop was his new tower.
Harry arrived at the shore of is lake.
"Welcome to Isengard!" he said out loud when he saw the impressive tower.
He looked over to where he remembered the Dwarven construction tunnel was. In its place was a large set of metal doors, with Dwarven writing etched on it. Harry decided he would pay a visit to the King later, and hoped that he wouldn't be too mad. It has been over 7 years since they last met. There could be a new king for all he knew.
Harry walked along the edge of the lake until he came across a boat. He took another look at the outside of the tower. He had to bend his neck all the way to see the top of it. It was a deep stone gray and black color. It was hard to tell the difference between the stone and metal that the tower was made from- the dwarves seemed to have blended the two, almost like an alloy. Large carved runes could be seen written all the way up the sides symmetrically. They glinted mysteriously in the sun even when it was behind clouds.
Harry spied a hole in the wall of the tower at water level, so he stepped in the boat and rowed for it.
When got closer to it, he realized it was what he thought it was. Inside the hole was a boat landing. He carefully steered the small boat next to the dock and tied it up. He saw a moderately sized metal door off to the side of the boat landing so he made his way to that.
There was no visible handle on the door that Harry could see. He did see a large glowing circle in the middle of the door though, and on a hunch he placed his hand on it.
He felt his skin tingle as the door's magic did something to him- he wasn't sure what. Whatever it was though, the magic apparently approved of him as the door swiveled open.
Harry walked into a grand entrance room. The room seemingly took up the whole level of tower and the walls were well over 100 feet apart. The dwarves even went out of their way to furnish the place. Harry didn't exactly have a good eye when it came to taste, but the Dwarven style was not too horrible. Still, he could see that he could use a woman's keen eye to redecorate the place eventually.
Harry wasn't picky on the styling though. After all he lived in a cupboard for the first 10 years of his life. He did give a soft chuckle at the barrel kegs piled in the corner. From what he remembered of the Dwarven Kingdom, barrels were more common than chairs.
Making his way through the entrance room, he discovered the staircase on the outer perimeter of the tower. He walked up it, and came to the conclusion that it went up the whole side of the tower.
He sighed to himself. "That is a lot of stairs… nearly a mile high."
Luckily Harry was a wizard so it should not be too hard to circumvent the stairs if the dwarves didn't leave some contraption laying about.
After walking up what seemed like several hundred steps Harry arrived at the first main floor. This floor seemed like the main dining area. There was a very large table with many chairs.
Harry shook his head. He didn't think he would ever have enough people in his life to fill up that table. There was also a separate appropriately sized kitchen that was modern for the time period but that wasn't saying much. He decided he would most likely convert another random room to a smaller dining room for just himself.
He then noticed the windows that encircled the whole room. Harry didn't notice them from the outside, but he could not tell if they were magic or not. Still, it was quite amazing, especially with the view of the lake around them. He was about 30 feet off the water and he could see straight down the bottom of the lake. He was surprised at all the wildlife he could see; fish, turtles, plants- all in amazing colors that you would normally associate tropical climates.
Cutting his sightseeing short he made his way up to the next floor. This time though he did find an alternate to the stairs. There was a contraption in one remote area of the circular room. He pulled on a lever and the distinct sound of a chain could be heard, and a few seconds later a Dwarven lift appeared in front of him.
It reminded him of the sketchy looking Dwarven drilling machines and he wondered how such a thing could work. But then again, not once did Harry see a single Dwarven machine break down. If there is one thing to be learned from Dwarven Engineering, it's that things just work. They just do. It was unwise to question it so Harry got inside the odd lift.
In front of him was a long panel filled with small levers and toggles. He noticed that the second one from the left was toggled down, while the rest were up. Harry deduced that that was because he was on the second floor. He toggled the third switch up, and sure enough the lift cycled up the chain pulley and he arrived on the third floor.
He walked off of the Dwarven lift. This floor was another open room. It seemed to be some sort of large lounging area with a lot of furniture. There was also a large hearth at one end of the room. Harry didn't spend too much time here. He went up to the next floor.
The next floor had a series of bedrooms. Each room was extravagant for the time period, each with their own bed and washroom with Dwarven plumbing… which was surprisingly modern. The onyx walls contrasted with the light color of the furnishings. The quality of the pedestal sink alone was amazing. There was a carved motif up the whole thing, and it was inlaid with many different gems, such as mother of pearl. This kind of quality was the norm for the whole tower. Even the Malfoy's would be jealous of the exuberance.
And it was all his, paid for with his own money.
The next several dozen floors were all the same. Harry briefly thought that maybe a mile high tower was a little too much- 90% of it would never be used.
However, he eventually got to some of the more practical and interesting rooms. Three levels of the structure were completely dedicated to library shelving, although it was completely empty. Harry would eventually put the books from the future Black Library there. The books were almost completely unused and he slightly regretted taking them back in time, but now was not the time to dwell on the past…future.
The floor above that was some sort of lab. It had many tools that Harry saw down in Salazar's chambers, many which were used for alchemy such as alembics, calcinators and such. Harry had next to no knowledge in that area at the current time so he moved on.
There was a training chamber on the next floor, or rather the potential for one. It was a large open room with a lot of Dwarven machinery that Harry would try and figure out, but the looks alone were not enough to know what they did. The other half of the room had a padded floor and a raised dueling stage… for dueling. If he had a partner it might have been useful.
The floor above that was the master bedroom. The size of the bed itself was ridiculous, but the furnishings of the room were even more elaborate than the rest of the tower. Much of it was made out of solid one piece crystal. There was very little wood to be found, nearly the whole tower was made from materials dug from the ground. There were windows similar to the ones he found on the large dining hall several thousand feet below.
The view from this height was simply astonishing. On one side Harry could see all the way out to the sea. On the other side he had a view of mountains and rolling hills. The forests were very beautiful, along with the gently meandering streams that could be seen flowing here and there. He could even see fields being worked by peasants.
Harry gazed out the windows for nearly an hour before he checked out the top level. The top level of the tower was a large area opening directly into the heavens. The Dwarves had the smarts to put railings up; falling from a mile in the sky could hurt. In the center was a large area that was raised about another 25 feet from the current floor, and it itself was the highest point on the tower. There was a staircase that followed that outside of the raised area that led to the top.
Harry walked up these stairs. This raised area had no railing. Harry stood at the top, but was very cautious. He was unsure of what kind of crosswinds to be expected at this height. He stood in absolute awe as he watched the sun set behind the horizon. The normal color of the sun changed from blazing fury into a silent farewell as he watched on. The experience was more surreal than anything he has ever seen in his 25 years of life, even more surreal than learning he was a wizard and visiting Diagon Alley for the first time.
After the light faded to black he made his way back down to the master bedroom. He managed to fall asleep, but not before realizing how lonely he was feeling in the world. The large expanse of the room only served to prove that point. He then realized that maybe it didn't have to be so. He fell asleep to the image of one particular witch…
"Rowena!" Harry yelled as he woke up. "Rowena… I got to find you."
Harry packed his bag for a trip to Hogwarts. He didn't have to be alone. He was remembering that brief lingering kiss they shared before he left Hogwarts…
After packing his bottomless bag with his essentials, he apparated to the front entrance of Hogwarts. He knocked on the massive doors.
After a few minutes of waiting the door opened. Out stepped a healthy looking Godric Gryffindor. "Ah Artemis, your back!" he slapped Harry on the back. "Come in, Come in…"
Harry greeted the founder in kind. "Is Rowena here?" he asked as he took a seat at the great table.
"No… I am afraid she has resigned her post. She mentioned a few things though, such as wanting to learn more about the secrets of magic. Not really surprising… I suspect she has travel to the Azkaban Library. However, I am most curious about what you have been doing?"
"Ah, well, I ran into some druids and I completed the initiation process after 7 years. Now though, I am chasing after Salazar's son who has a book on very dark magic that I need to destroy." Harry said lightly.
"You're a druid now you say? Fascinating. Tell me about it." Godric asked.
So Harry regaled him with various stories from his training for about an hour. After that though they got back to the topic of Salazar's son.
"So you need to destroy an evil book that contains the darkest of magic?" Godric summarized.
"That is correct. Salazar's son made off with it. It contains a method to make yourself immortal."
"Immortality!" Godric spat. "Lot of good it did Salazar… Immortality will turn the best of people into a monster."
"The way Salazar achieved it did turn him into a monster… He tore apart his own soul." Godric shivered. Harry wasn't going to mention the other known methods of immortality he knew off- the Hallows and Philosopher's stone.
"I am afraid that I do not know of a way to track a wizard who is most likely not even on this island anymore. I can hazard a guess that any method you come across is most likely going to require some of the man's possessions. The magic itself… well I suggest you take a trip to the Azkaban library. Sorcerers have been going there for decades to research the finer points of magic."
"Have you ever been there?" Harry asked.
"Only once. The man who oversees the island… he is something else. He may be the most cordial man I have ever come across. It is in that sense that there was something off about him… he was too nice."
A contemplative look came across Harry's features. "I see. Well, can you show me to Salazar's son's quarters? What is his name anyways?"
"His name? Sighard… Sighard Slytherin. Follow me, I'll show you his room."
After a familiar walk down into the dungeons they entered into the plain room of Sighard Slytherin. There was nothing outstanding at all about the room, but there was some clothes scattered about. Harry put some of them into his bag.
Harry didn't stay long at Hogwarts, especially since Rowena was not there. He stayed for dinner, recovered all of his own possessions that were still there, and then left. He was making his way towards Azkaban island, somewhere in the North Sea. He was riding on his broomstick, hoping to catch a glimpse of the rocky fortress from air.
He flew around for the better part of the day before he finally found the place.
Azkaban was a stone fortress built right into the island. It was exceptionally well built and cheerful looking, nothing like what it would be in the future.
Harry guided his broom slowly down into a large courtyard. There were many scholarly looking wizards there already, lounging around and reading, every last one of them with an absurdly long beard. He didn't see any signs of Rowena amongst them, or any other women for that matter.
When he landed no one paid him more than a second glance. He briefly wondered if flying in by broom was a more popular choice over floo travel. He walked through the open door at one end of the courtyard. He saw other people coming and going through it so it seemed like the right direction.
Harry was correct with his assumption. He followed the basic signs until he came across a very old looking man with a very cheerful demeanor. He was sitting behind an ancient desk, reading an even more ancient text.
"Excuse me? Are you the keeper here?" Harry asked.
"I may be good sir. How can I help?"
"I am looking for Rowena Ravenclaw. I heard she was here."
"She was, but now she is not. Dear Rowena left naught but two days ago. Is there anything else I can do to help?"
Harry silent cursed himself for being too late to see Rowena. "Yes. In fact, I am looking for a spell that can help me track a man over a very long distance."
"I see…" The man thought about it for a few seconds. "Follow me."
The man got up and they slowly walked over to a large shelf. "There be some magic in these books to help you on your goal. Delve not too deep into them; it would not be due to lose yourself in the ancient magics…" A dark look flashed across the old man's face along with brief glint of red in the eyes, but it was gone as quick as it came. It was so quick Harry had to wonder if he was just seeing things.
"Thank you for your help." Harry responded. The old man just waved him off and went back to his desk.
Harry took a look at the books he was shown. Many of them had no titles, or titles that have long since faded away.
He picked up the first book at random. He frowned as he was greeted with a grotesque image of a man being skinned alive. Nevertheless, he leafed through the entirety of the book before deciding that what he was looking for was not in it.
He settled himself at the library for a long day of research.
A long day of researched turned into nearly a month of constant reading. There were many rooms at the Azkaban Fortress though, for a price. Many wizards stayed at the place for long periods of time so he was not out of place.
Harry found a suitable spell for his purpose about a week into his research. It was in one of the books that would be labeled 'dark' in the future. It was not a spell, rather a mix of a ritual and enchanting.
The ritual involved the use of several potion ingredients, drawn runes, a few spells, some oddly scented candles, and his own blood. He also had to sacrifice some of Sighard Slytherin's possessions during the ritual using an odd cauldron with ritual blood runes drawn on it. After the ritual was done, the magic manifested itself in an object of the caster's choosing. And after even more spells, the enchantment was complete. It was essentially a compass after all was said and done.
Harry didn't fully understand the mechanics of the slightly dark ritual, but he decided as long as he followed the instructions to the letter nothing could go wrong. It was a very dangerous thing to do, but Harry has done more foolish things in his past, why stop now? Regardless of his inexperience, he managed the ritual successfully.
Harry planned on continuing his hunt as soon as he finished the magical compass stone, but he decided since he was there, he might as well read up on various other stuff. After all, Azkaban wasn't a library in the future, so that meant it disappeared at some time.
There was no single field of magic that Harry studied during the next three weeks; a little of this, a little of that. Regardless, he walked away with a little more knowledge than what he arrived with. He just hoped he didn't waste his time leaning spells and theory that he would never use. Everything he read had a purpose in his mind. It was similar to his cramming session during the Triwizard tournament.
Harry had enough of reading. His body was aching for a change in scenery. He decided that before he leaves the country that he had one last place to visit; his friend the Dwarven King Thothic.
Harry apparated out of the Azkaban library to his Tower. He would have to find a name for the place eventually, or maybe the King named it? Either way he couldn't keep calling it by 'my tower', it sounded bad. He made his to the heavy doors that guarded the entrance to the Dwarven Kingdom.
He examined the door for a few minutes, staring at the gorgeous motifs carved into to the stone and metal. Harry shrugged his shoulders to himself and placed his hand on the door. A brief flash of light shone from the cracks in the door as they opened for him.
One by one the Dwarven steam powered lights turned on. There was no quick travel system so Harry took out his broom and flew the distance. It was on odd experience flying down a tunnel several miles underground. He could have apparated, but one lessons you don't want to learn the hard way is to never apparate into a dangerous or unknown situation. He hadn't been there in 7 years after all; he had no idea what awaited him.
Harry had to slam on his airbrakes as the door guarding the ancient Dwarven City of Kilgirn came upon him very fast. He stopped with inches to spare. He got off his broom and knocked on the heavy door several times.
As with the first time Harry visited, a small slot appeared in the door and a dwarf peered through it, closed it back up, and opened the door.
"Ah, friend Artemis. The King be wondering when you be showing up."
"How did you know it was me?"
"You be the only one who can come down that tunnel, besides one of us of course." The dwarf responded.
"Ah, that makes sense I suppose."
"Follow me lad, I will bring you to the King."
Harry followed the dwarf through the city. The city itself was much the same at first glance. However, the city as a whole had a slightly dull feeling to it, almost as if the bronze was tarnishing. There was also a noticeably less amount of dwarves walking around.
They arrived at the Iron Citadel after a few more minutes of sightseeing. The large room was a rowdy as he remembered last time. He saw the familiar, but slightly older, face of his friend King Thothic.
"Artemis me lad, been a long time it has." The King stood up and grabbed Harry's hand with both his and gave an enthusiastic shake.
"Good to see you." Harry responded.
"Is this a social call?" the King asked with a twinkle in his slightly glazed over eyes. "Sorry to say, but Princess Israniel hasn't been here in several years." He gave out a booming laugh that slowly turned into a slightly remorseful chuckle.
"I am just here to talk with you, and talk about the world in general. I've been out of the loop for seven years. I got caught up in a druid initiation ritual..." Harry emitted a slight blush.
"I think that be a story better told over some ale!" The King jumped up and clapped his hands twice. A large contingent of kegs was rolled in by some Dwarves, thankfully fully clothed males this time. Harry thanked Merlin for the small favors.
Harry chuckled at the enthusiastic dwarves. Not one to insult the Kings hospitality, he took up the offered mug. He did pace himself this time; it wasn't his goal to get plastered. He told his story, and all the Dwarves seemed to laugh and clap at the appropriate times. They approved of his story telling, which was a high compliment since Dwarves can be some of the greatest story tellers in the world if you get them drunk.
After the story was done, Harry carefully steered the topic of discussion over to the wellbeing of Dwarves in general.
The King hesitated only briefly before talking. "We be dying out… barely any children are being born. Fighting a war on three fronts it feels like, the cave-gnolls, rival dwarves, and ourselves. I believe we can make it through this, but our population will never be the same, we are abandoning many cities, I fear that this will eventually be the last one in this region of the world."
"It's a shame. Can you not ask for help?" Harry naively asked.
"Who would give it, my friend? The elves are facing similar problems with in-fighting. Humans? Humans have never cared about us before, why would they start now."
"If there is anything I can do, please tell me." Harry replied with earnest.
The King gave a contemplative look in reply. "I have to think on it. Anyways… The goblins population be just as erratic, with them going to war constantly. Merfolk are of no help to anyone… No lad, we be alone. We will persevere, we must."
They sat for a few minutes in silence, nursing their mugs of ale.
"Let us talk about more pleasant topics shall we?" The King said, breaking the silence.
"My tower. It is…" Harry paused for a second. "Sorry, my Human words cannot describe the masterpiece. Does the tower have a name?"
"Thank ye for the compliment. I had many a good lad working on it. The name? It be Duergen, the Dark Monolith."
"It's perfect." Harry said after some thought. "I could not help but notice the runes carved up the side… What do they do?" Harry asked with curiosity.
"They do many things." The King said, looking proud of his work . "The tower is indestructible with those runes. They also control malevolent weather. The magic from the tower will also act as a preservation tool, the lands around with grow healthy for many years to come and be less effected by disease. That reminds me, at the top of the tower is a control stone for you to identify yourself with. You can control access to the tower. Anyone you do not want to see your land will not."
"That is very powerful magic."
"Aye. There is so much magic going into that tower of yours that it is essential a magical leyline."
"What does that mean?" Harry asked sheepishly.
"It means that there is an overconcentration of magic in the area. All magic cast in the area will be amplified and more concentrated. You will essentially attract magic from the magic Duergen is constantly channeling if you are near enough."
"Oh." That sounded like a good thing to Harry.
The King explained a few more of the runes to Harry. He was once again surprised by Dwarven ingenuity and thoughtfulness. At the end of the day, Harry had a request for the King.
"I am going out of the country for awhile. I do not know when I will be back. I wish to acquire more of the land around the tower, do you think you can handle that for me?"
"It will be a pleasure." The King responded as they shook hands. Harry apparated back to his tower.
Harry went straight for the control gem in his tower. It was in the master bedroom. The King explained to him carefully how to set the pseudo-wards. He set his lands to be undiscoverable to everyone except himself, Rowena, the Dwarven King, Elvish Princess, Goblin Chief, and the Great Druid of his grove. Harry watched in awe as a ripple of magic washed away from the tower and coated the lands. Duergen was now essentially its own pocket reality, but still connected to the Earth.
He repacked his bottomless bag for the inevitable cross-continent journey to track down Sighard Slytherin. With one last look around the tower he apparated to the furthest south of Britain that he could, and then mounted his faithful broom once again.
After a few hours he was at the coast of the British Channel. His compass stone was pulsing slowly and pointing to the southeast. The slow pulses indicated that he was very far away.
Harry flew across the water and landed in France. From France he flew through Spain, and eventually across the Mediterranean Sea into Africa.
His knowledge of African geography was poor at the best of times, and outdated.
It took him nearly a week to fly to Africa in total, including makeshift camping similar to what he did on his first Horcrux hunt.
His compass was still pulsing very slowly when he arrived in Northern Africa. It was also still pointing to the south east.
He set flying once more. The travelling was very slow, as the weather was very hot, and often very dry, especially as he went across massive deserts and salt plains. The jungles were another story all together- it was very dangerous to be near them at all. Harry was unsure of what kind of magical creatures lurked in the forests, but it was unwise to find out.
After nearly a month and several thousand miles, Harry's magical compass was starting to pulse faster. At first he put it off as a sign of dehydration, but soon it was noticeably faster and he was getting excited.
At the same time, he was slightly worried about what he would encounter on the way there. The African plains was home of the most fierce of Magical Creatures, the nundu. He did not fancy running into one of those at all. He had a higher chance of surviving Voldemort 5 times over than surviving an encounter with a hungry nundu.
Putting those thoughts out of his mind he slowly descended on his broom.
In front of him was a tribal village. His compass was pulsing very fast so he knew he was close, but not exactly how close.
He took a quick look around the village. Harry reached out with his druidic senses and sensed a few faint traces of magic, but they were not fresh. He found many bodies laying around the village. The whole village was slaughtered. He was surprised that most of the bodies were uneaten by the wildlife, but he deduced that residual dark magic scared off most of the animals.
Harry also came to the conclusion that this was caused by one man; Sighard Slytherin. The man's evilness knew no bounds. Harry was getting angry just looking at the destruction and carnage of the village.
Harry was taking one last look of the village before he took off. He made another discovery. There was a white man, dead, amongst the bodies. The man was wearing familiar clothing, the kind that most wizards wore at Hogwarts.
Maybe his original evaluation of all the destruction caused by one man was wrong. It looked like Slytherin Jr. had some friends.
Harry took out his magical compass once again. He followed it due east. He was prepared to end this hunt.
Harry flew about 5 miles until the magical compass wasn't pulsing anymore- it was just glowing. That meant he was there.
He noticed the telltale signs of fighting below; spell fire, shouting, and smoke.
Harry found him.
And his friends.
They were a half dozen of them fighting and three more laying on the ground motionless. They were attacking an elderly looking tribal man.
Harry made his move. He jumped off his broom and put it into his bag, and apparated down on the ground in one fluid motion.
His first move was to hurl the attackers with a massive gust of wind. He managed to stagger some, and knocked the rest down. They were slow to retaliate against their new foe.
Harry's second move was to scan the area for useful materials for his druid magic. There isn't much, if he was honest with himself- scarce bushes and no wildlife.
He waved his wand at some thorn bushes, enlarging them. He manifested his druidic powers in his hand and willed the bushes to accelerate the growth of the thorns.
Harry then expanded the bushes so they were growing all around the thugs.
Some of the attackers managed to think quickly and cut off the thorn bushes before they would be impaled. One man was not lucky as the thorns pierced his face.
Harry wasted no time before feeling around for more druidic magic. He noticed the air around him was electrically charged. The magic was very thick, thicker than any he had ever felt before
He attempted to harness the lightning, but it immedietly started fighting back. The conditions were too perfect and the lightning too potent.
He was now wrestling with the lightning, but he was too deep in the match to pull out now.
With a great effort, he attempted to gain one last desperate attempt at control, but the lightning just laughed at him as it dissipated out of his body. He collapsed to the ground in a brief loss of control. Some of the lightning poured out of his body and lit the very dry bushes and grass on fire.
Harry reached out in an attempt to control the fire before it consumed them all, but it was too pure, too wild, the conditions too extreme, just like the lightning.
Out of nowhere, the aged tribal man reached out his hand. Harry took it and he was pulled to his feet.
Instead of letting go right away, the tribesman held tight. Harry had a slightly panicked look as he felt the remaining lightning being sucked out of the body and into the man.
The man, however, seemed perfectly in control. He palmed the nearby electric charges and released them in a single moment of intense fury. The lightning arced across the ground, shocking all the enemies that were currently trying to free themselves from the fire.
With a swift motion, the elderly man called forth a withered staff into his hand from the air itself. He started spinning the staff madly with both hands.
Harry could sense the magic rippling off the man, but he could not comprehend it, it had a very foreign feel to it, not the traditional wizarding or druid magic, and not even Dwarven magic. They were all very similar, but had a noticeably different feel.
The man directed his spinning staff at the roaring fire. With a slight flick of the wrist, a vortex formed at the staff and the man quickly gathered up the rampaging fire into it. He controlled the flaming vortex as it ravaged all the enemies in their final moments.
Seeing that all the foes were dead, the man winked the fire out of existence. Harry simply watched on in awe. Those moves were not something that he would learn as a druid.
The man turned his focus to Harry, but he wore nothing but a benevolent smile. He made some foreign hand gestures that Harry couldn't understand.
"Sorry, English?" Harry asked. There was a zero percent chance that the man spoke English.
The man shook his head negative, which begs the question. However, the man outstretched his hands to the sky and looked straight up as a lightning bolt came down and struck him.
Harry was about to rush over to the man, but then he saw the man was unharmed. The man looked back and Harry saw his eyes were now completely electric white.
They made eye contact and Harry immedietly heard the man speaking into his head. Harry was startled at first.
'Calm, child. In our minds, languages do not matter. What brings you to these lands?'
'I hunted for these evil men. One of them has a foul book that needs to be destroyed. That one over there' Harry pointed at the man still dressed in the clothes he fled Hogwarts in. 'How did you defeat them so easily?'
'Easily my child? No, they killed my whole village… We have been fighting for 3 days nonstop… they were tired. I was tired, but you gave me the lightning energy.' The man walked over to the body Harry was pointing at. 'There is no book on them. Is there not a place for book storage in your homeland?'
'There is, but I just came from there.' Harry walked over to the body of the younger Slytherin. There was nothing on the man but the clothes he wore. Harry cursed himself for his continuing bad luck.
'Ah, but you did not go there with the intention of looking for that book.' The very old man said with incredible insight.
Harry frowned at the logic. Was the book really at Azkaban? He thought to himself. He never bothered to look there, it didn't seem logical. But since when were wizards ever logical?
'Worry not about it. Tell me, what is your name? I cannot give a reward to my rescuer without knowing his name.'
'Artemis Entreri. A reward is not necessary…' He was still thinking about the book.
'Nonsense. I am a frail old man, but I am not without skill. I saw the way you looked at my… magic. I can teach you that, but the path is not an easy one.'
'And what path is that?' Harry asked with curiosity.
'The path of the Shaman. I am the elder Shaman of these lands, I have been for centuries.'
Harry sighed. The book has eluded him once again and possibly for a long time to come. The man was vague with what he would be learning, but it couldn't be any worse or longer than his druid training, right?
Harry nodded his head. Any new magic was a good thing. 'Teach me.'
The shaman smirked. 'Follow me.'
A/N
I apologize for any major errors that appear here, I've had to rewrite the chapter twice, the first time because my computer ate it. I do about 3 or 4 proofreads before I post a story, but I cannot catch everything.
I have the next 4 or 5 chapters planned out, as of now two of them will be mostly Rowena!centric. Another of them will be shaman training; I have had it planned for a long time. Of course there is more to the Azkaban plot arc as well.
Duer = Dark/Darkness
gen = Stone/Monolith
There was a few other better names, but they didn't flow as good off the tongue. Ex- Falaln (strongest tower) Bofkrak (great fortress)
