Disclaimer: I own none of this, The HP universe and character was created by JKR.
Harry would be lying if he said he wasn't freaked out. He had never once mentioned his real name to the shaman, always using his 'Artemis Entreri' identity. He slowly traced over his forehead where the shaman touched him. He hadn't felt his scar in nearly 10 years, so it was a little disconcerting when the shaman traced where it used to be.
The shaman noticed that Harry still wasn't saying anything, probably due to confusion or shock, so he simple continued his conversation.
"I will let you rest for a bit, to recuperate from the tiring journey. That does not mean that I will not teach you; the history, rules, traditions, general purpose and way of life of a Shaman does not require you to exert yourself. Go inside the hut and rest, you should find it preferable to sleeping out in the open."
Harry walked off towards the hut muttering about crazy old shamans. He was surprised to see the inside of the hut was magically expanded. He was under the impression that spacial expansion was something that you could only do with wanded disciplines of magic, but he decided he would ask before making and wrong judgments.
It didn't take too long to find any empty room for himself; after all there were only 4 rooms in the hut. Still, after living in the African bush for over half a year, it was like a penthouse. He actually had something to look forward to now though- the start of his training. Hopefully it would not take too long as he did not want to stray from Britain for too much longer.
Harry woke up the next day and saw the shaman was meditating in the communal 'living room'. The shaman's eyes snapped open when he entered the room.
"Ah, you are awake. I trust you slept well?"
"I do feel refreshed, more so than ever."
"Good, that is the natural magic of the lake here at work."
"I do have a question for you, before you have me do whatever…" Harry said. The shaman simple gave him a nod to go ahead and ask. "The expansion charms on this structure, I thought you need wizarding magic to create it?"
"You should know by now that there are many different ways to get the results one desires. I may follow the shamanistic way of life, but in the end I am still a magic user. There are many magics that remain unchanged across disciplines, be you druid, mage, shaman, necromancer, sage, cleric, or even a different species. The magic in question though is runic magic. Runic magic is one such magic that is relatively unchanged across disciplines."
Harry nodded his head in acceptance. "I do know a bit about runes, I had some basic lessons."
"The runes to expand this hut are not really runes by nature, but the written language of my people. What is magic other than the expression of our will and intent? It does not matter how you express your intent, be it written, verbal, thought, hand signals, rituals, or wand movements, you do your part and the magic will do the rest."
Harry knew as much already; magic responds to your intent. He also knew there was different ways to cast the same spell by using different languages and such. What he wanted to know is what exactly separates shamanism from the rest.
He would begin to learn the answer to that after a week of being at the mountain summit lake.
The elder shaman beckoned Harry to follow him. The shaman constructed a floating wooden pier that stretched out into the middle of the invisible lake. It was quite eerie seeing it floating like that, but weirder things have happened when Harry and magic are concerned.
At the end of pier there were two cushions, and Jordan indicated for Harry to sit.
"By now you should be familiar with common meditation techniques." The shaman stated. "Find your inner peace and your inner magic."
Harry was quite adept with meditation techniques by this point in time, both from his druidic training and from watching the shaman do it so often. It helped with his often-neglected occlumency. Harry let himself focus on his internal magic while the Shaman kept talking. Most wizards went their whole life without even knowing what their own magic felt like, but Harry was quite intimate with his.
"I trust you are sensing the magic around you. Your previous druidic exercises are of great use for feeling the land's magic and what it has to offer you." The shaman spoke in soft tones. "I know you have been wondering what exactly separates a shaman from the rest of the world."
"I assume by now you are feeling all the magic around you as it swells and ripples. Focus your senses at the location about ten paces to your right and at eye level." The shaman raised his hand and from thin air a ball of crimson fire hovered in midair. "Do not focus on the fire, focus on the magic. Notice what the magic felt like before I called the flames, and then when the flames have answered."
Harry did as he was told. The swirling magic in question felt vaguely familiar, like he had known it his whole life, but at the same time there was something fundamentally different. He also noticed it was the same feeling the magic had while trekking up the mountain path.
The shaman went through the same motions a few times, each time going slower.
"Feel the magic and notice there is no difference from when the flames are there, and when the flames are not. The magic forms before it takes on its physical effect. If I want fire, I simply coax the fire spirits into making it fire. If I want ice, I shall ask the spirits of ice."
Harry wanted to ask what he meant by 'asking the spirits' but he was cut off by the shaman continuing his monologue.
"Shamans are known for their seer-like divination abilities. In truth, I can see the future no better than the next man. But that does not mean I cannot ask the spirits for a little help. You can see where a spell is before it is formed. It is a form of precognition, which is a seer-like ability, but any magic-user can learn it if they are disciplined enough. Truly seeing the future is a gift from the Old World and a rare gift at that, passed down through the bloodlines, getting rarer and rarer as time goes on. Shamanism, like many other magics, takes ideas from the Old World as well. Merely sensing the ambient magic around you, and coaxing it to your whim are two separate things altogether, something that shamans specialize in. "
"How do you control the ambient magic around you?" Harry asked in excitement. "And I don't follow you with the whole 'communicating with spirits' idea."
"It is easier to use the magic around you for its most obvious purpose. It is easier to create a large fire if you already have a small fire. It is about the amount of potential that the magic has. It is easier to create nature and the elements rather than man-made items or life. If I want thunder, it is much easier if I ask the thunder spirits for their blessing."
"Ask the thunder spirits for their blessing?" Harry repeated, confused.
"Remember, magic is all about your belief and intent. Magic will respond to your call, and it will react to your intentions. That is the way it worked in the Old World, and that is the way it works in the New World. Magic has a mind of its own sometimes, remember that. All the finer details are simply the lack of discipline, willpower, or intent. The mightiest arcane mage to ever live could control magic without any outward showing of intention. But most of us use hand gestures, spoken word, and the like, if not to help along the magic, but for our own reinforcement to know we cast the right spell."
Harry thought about what shaman said for a few minutes before he finally started to understand. He uses the idea of communicating with spirits as a focus for intent.
"Is there a difference between a God and Magic?" Harry asked after a few minutes of silence.
"Does it matter?" the shaman replied. "It's the belief that matters, but the results are the same."
"I suppose so…"
"In time you will come to understand. It may take years to understand it." The shaman stated before continuing on with the rest of the basic lesson.
"Since the magic is from nature around you, it does not tire you magically as quick as standard spells. It can be very exhausting physically though. Remember the Nundu; I created the stone prison from the ground and was very physically exhausted after such a forceful use of my magic. It felt like I literally pulled the stone from the ground myself… But then remember back to the day we first met when I was being attacked by that group of wizards; I was not magically or physically tired after using the natural elements on them for the whole day."
"Do shamans have any spells that are equivalent of my wizarding ones?"
"There are some, but remember that the main different between you in me is that I rarely use my internal magic, while you, as a wizard, rely extensively on it. That does not mean I cannot use my own magic, it can be used much the same way, but it is not completely the same."
Jordan went to demonstrate his statement. He took a wide stance and spread his arms apart. He moved his body in a way that was clearly intentional, and after about 10 seconds it looked like he was holding lightning in his bare hands. With another movement, the lightning between his hands connected into one arc.
Then with one swift movement, he threw the whole arc of lightning out in one controlled fan. Harry watched in awe as the lightning unnaturally skipped across the surface of the lake before fizzling out on the other side.
He did understand one important comparison though. With druidism, it was all about controlling the plant and animal life around him. He could also control the ambient magic around him, like shamanism, but everything he knew how to do required druidic incantations and hand movements. The shaman's manipulation of ambient magic did not require any incantations of any kind. It was more about asking the magic to do your intention, instead of forcing it to. You get different results by doing so. Harry supposed it was like holding the shift-key down on a keyboard to get a new set of symbols to use.
With that conclusion in his mind, he started focusing on the task at hand. Jordan was back to talking about precognition and recognizing raw magic as it formed into a cohesive spell.
It was easier said than done. You either had to be very good at multi-tasking, or you had to be able to see your environment and the ambient magic at the same time. Harry knew it was the latter; the shaman wanted all of his senses to work as one.
"Precognition has many uses. In combat it can act as if you are reading someone's mind. In fact you can stop spells before they are formed by snuffing the magic out of existence or diverting its use. We will simply continue with your recognition before working on the precognition."
Harry gave a sigh of relief. He didn't want to be over-pressured so early on. The shaman simply stood at the edge of the dock and pointed to where he would control the ambient magic for him to sense.
"With enough practice you will be able to tell which spell is coming at you before it is even formed. You will find that this is much easier to do against a wizard than a shaman, so once you master the hard way, you can easily adapt it to the other magical disciplines."
Harry could sense the magic, but getting it to conform to his will without an incantation was very bothersome. He was giving out mental suggestions, seemingly to himself, but no matter what he did the ball of ambient magic would just fade away.
The shaman seemingly knew this would happen, and had tons of patience being a 5000 year old man. It would be a long time before Harry would get any results.
It was many weeks later before he would finally get a result. The weeks were not wasted of course, he would meditate every day with the shaman, and the shaman would teach him some history and continue with the nonmagical 'practical' lessons and his ways of life. The survival lessons continued; they made some trips into the brush on the side of the mountain.
It was not a professor-student type relationship. It was more of a master-apprentice relationship, which was to be expected. The shaman would teach Harry in the form of stories and anecdotes, along with the practical lessons. Many of the stories were told in third person, but Harry got the impression that many of them were true stories lived by the Shaman himself. There was hardly a situation that the man had not found himself in at one point in time. The man has killed 17 nundus in his lifetime, amongst other things. That's about one every 300 years.
Harry was currently in his meditative state, trying to get any result out of the ambient magic the shaman was gathering for him. If he could turn the magic into an effect, then he would know what it feels like so he could gather the magic himself. With druidic magic, it was slightly simpler since he did not directly control the ambient magic; he used an intermediary such as his own internal magic with incantations to connect with it and push it along. But now that the intermediary was out of the picture it was very tough.
Harry learned early on to not get disappointed when he got no results. The shaman was not afraid to whack his knuckles with his staff. It was an effective deterrent for disappointment.
His progress was never completely stale. Every day of meditating he became just a little bit closer with the magic around him, and a little bit more attuned with his surroundings, and slightly more able to concentrate his senses at the same time. It's like patting your head, rubbing your stomach, and reaching his druidic senses out at the same time, while smelling the natural smells of the mountain. Every day he got slightly better.
He felt the magic form to his right, near where his visual periphery would be, and he started a mantra in his head. 'Turn into water. I ask the spirits of water to perform this task.' He repeated the mantra for a few hours.
Harry wasn't sure if he was starting to believe in the spirits or what, but without warning he felt the magic change. The concentrate area of magic in the condensed ever so slightly that he thought he missed it at first. And then he felt it start to slowly change. He opened his eyes and saw a small ball of water floating in the air.
The shaman applauded his efforts. "Good start. Now you know what it feels like. Now you just have to indicate your intentions better. If you are not specific, your magic will be vague as well. You simply asked for water, and the spirits provided, but you were obviously expecting more. This place has a lot of magical potential to offer for your practice, so I would not worry too much. We will pick this up tomorrow; I will let you sleep on this small success."
It would be a few days before Harry got similar results. When he did though he made sure to memorize exactly what he did to get the results so he could perform again.
It worked slightly. It seemed that the magic itself was resisting Harry's will and urges. Jordan said the spirits were simply being playful.
Whatever it was it was starting to get on Harry's nerves.
Jordan simply responded by saying. "You have to coax the magic, not command or plead with it."
"Does bribing work?" Harry asked with a laugh. Surprisingly the shaman didn't laugh back.
"Sacrifice works with every form of magic. Follow me, I shall show you how to offer to the spirits. Maybe you will even meet one."
They walked toward the hut. Nearby there was unlit pyre of wood.
"What are we going to sacrifice?" Harry asked with as light bit of apprehension. He didn't think they would sacrifice an animal, but never say never.
"The spirits are immaterial, so we can either offer them something physical, or simply offer them magic. Spirits of Flame like to light things on fire, so if we offer them something that is combustible, they will be more prone to listen to you."
They were both standing next to the pile of wood that was set up in a pyramid fashion.
"What we are about to do is called a Rite, but I've been doing this for so long that I do not really need to try at it anymore." The shaman said with no hint of gloating. "Since you are new, I will eventually show you how to go through every motion properly and what it all means."
Harry was expecting the shaman to speak in a long incantation, or do some sort of ritual dance, but Jordan simply summoned his gnarled staff and tapped the pile of wood with it. The Pyre immedietly burst into life. "Remember, it is all about your intention. Young and unskilled apprentices may need to perform various rituals in order to declare their intentions, but you should be able to do without relatively quickly, as you have similar experience with such things. Rituals do have their use though. Not all shamans are magic users like you and me. Rituals can be used by those without magic to connect with the spirits, although it is slightly more difficult. The spirits to not discriminate."
Harry watched as the pyre slowly lit on fire. It was slightly odd to see that there was no smoke, but then he realized that the wood was not actually burning. After a few minutes the flames were quite large, shooting up about 10 feet in the air.
Then the flames started to actually form into the vague form of a female human. At first it was just a face with long tendrils of fire wreathing the face like hair. Then slowly the neck formed, then the torso and breasts, and all the way down the hips and legs.
Harry stared at the figure in front of him, not because it was attractive, but because he didn't expect it to actually work. But standing in front of him clearly something and it just happened to look like an orange, yellow, and red, fiery female human.
The fire spirit blew a kiss at Harry before running off across the lake, her feet barely touching the water as she bound away with an unknown grace.
"Is that an actual spirit or just the magic emulating what you think a spirit looks like?" Harry asked.
"Does it matter?" the shaman responded once again. "The result is the same no matter what you believe. I hope as my shaman apprentice that you will come to believe in what I believe."
It was clear that Harry and Jordan were under different impression on what they thought a spirit was. The shaman knows it is the manifestation of sentient magic, while Harry thinks they are similar to ghosts. Either way, it acted like it had at least some capability of rational thought.
The spirit reached a seeming random spot on the lake before floating up, doing a spin, and then winking out of existence.
Harry was sitting on the very familiar cushion on the floating dock. He was still working on the manipulation of shamanistic magic. Or rather shamanistic magic is simply the process of tapping into the ambient magic around him and shaping it into are not too many true shamanistic spells that use internal magic. Either way, it was confusing.
He felt the magic of the invisible lake underneath him, and in front of him there was a ball of magic, he was slowly, but surely, shaping it into cylindrical shape.
"A little more, you are almost there." Jordan encouraged.
Barely 5 seconds after that Harry managed to form the connection in the magic. He opened his eyes in front of him and saw that there was now a pillar of water in front of him about a foot in diameter, exactly what he was looking for.
He closed his eyes again and focused his will upon asking the magic to form an arch. This time the magic was easier to manipulate and his arch formed quickly.
The shaman started to clap. "Impressive."
Harry gave a legitimate smile in thanks. He didn't want to break his concentration by talking.
"Now use your hands. Carve the water. Show your intentions."
Harry did what he was told, stood up, and flexed his hands. He made a gesture with his hand as if he was choking someone, or maybe wrangling a snake. He forced the water to curve into a spiral instead, with a simple motion of his hand. The hand motions did not explicitly do anything to the magic, but it did help him get keep focus on his task. Every little trick helps.
He got a little too excited though, when he tried to twist the water column into the pretzel and he lost the magic back into the æther. Harry sighed in defeat, but savored the small victory.
Over the weeks and months Harry's control over the magic around him grew significantly, but there was always so much for Harry to learn. As expected, it is not all about throwing magic around.
He learned about the shaman's role in society or in a tribe. Jordan's role is that of a guardian, a protector, a healer, a spiritual leader, and an advisor, just to name a few.
Thankfully many of the shaman's ideals were very similar to that of a druid's so he would not have conflicting roles. Druids do tend to be more reclusive, but shamans have been known to be hermits also. Jordan was the elder shaman of the village Harry first met him at, but that village was completely slaughtered by Sighard Slytherin and his men.
Harry slowly became adept at feeling the magic as it formed into a spell, before it was visible. That also went along with identifying what the magic would be used for, before it was used.
The shaman would send spells at him, and Harry would identify them on feel alone, without the use of his eyes. The shaman was not a user of wizarding magic by any means, but he was capable of emulating many basic spells.
Harry asked the Shaman one day about it.
"Jordan, what is the story behind wands and why can't you use one?"
"Wands have their uses, I will not lie. They were not around in the beginning though, as I have told you before. The old magic is primal, and it lacks finesse. There are things you can do with a wand that cannot be cast any other way. The easiest way to think of it is this; Wands are a tool. Tools are meant to make your life easier by allowing you to get the job done quicker. They offer shortcut to the uninspired, or they can be a paintbrush to an artist. You know how long it has taken you to get a true feeling for the shamanistic magic. You know what magic feels like. There are those amongst you who will never feel what true magic is, and they will just say a few words and get a result. But then again, there are those of you, like Merlin, who took up the simple tool and became a master craftsman with it."
"But the speed in which you can cast spells with a wand can save your life, compared to how long it takes to form even some of the simplest spells without a wand."
"No doubt, but that is the nature of using your internal magic rather than the earth's. I cannot use a wand because I am far too old, and my magic far too imbedded in the wilds around us. Wands are a tool, because they act as a focus for ones inner magic. My inner magic cannot connect like this. One has to train their magic to be used to wands, through repeated use. I did not have this repeated use when I was young. In fact, wands did not become popular until several hundred years after I was born."
"Didn't the wizards of old use staffs rather than wands?"
"True, but their purpose is the same. Staffs were far easier to make, as they did not require many fancy tools to create. Plus a staff is also a fairly handy physical weapon and a cane for old people like me. Wands are more portable, unless you can hide yours like I can."
"How do you hide your staff?" Harry asked, getting the idea of what the shaman was saying.
"I hide it in the folds of magic itself. And before you ask, it is not a skill I can teach, it is something you can only learn through experience."
"But your staff is not a staff in the tradition sense, right? It does not have a magical core?"
"You are a smart one, are you not? You are correct. It is an extension of my own magic core, rather than using another magical core as a focus. Many wizarding spells that you use take the form of a lance of light. This is only possible by focusing your magic through a wand, or similar focus. Incantations, intent, and wand movements all help with the spell, but are unnecessary for a skilled wizard who knows what magic actually feels like. You are very intimate with the magic around you, but I wonder if you are actually more familiar with druidic and shamanistic magic more so than your traditional wizarding magic. It is hard to explain it to you, but perhaps you know better than most."
Harry waited for the Shaman continue, holding his questions for later. The Shaman could be very insightful at times.
"As I've said numerous times by now, there are many magical effects that can be duplicated through all the various disciplines. The thing that separates wizardry from the rest is that it follows a set of rules within the bigger picture. Everyone who uses a magical focus is chained down by the same set of rules. That is why every time you give a specific incantation you will get the same effect every time, but maybe with varying degrees of power. With the Old Magics though, there are no rules or limits as you very well know. Alas, these self imposed limits on our magic could be the death of us all."
"I think I follow, but I have a question."
"Of course."
"You said there are no rules with the old magic… what about shamanism? It does not follow either."
"Shamanism is like druidism in the sense that it is neither the old magics, nor wanded wizardry. Druidism and Shamanism are both 'wandless' magics- to say it crudely in terms of your homeland. There are rules of nature that our magic still must follow, but maybe not as many as you are used too. Some people may say they are simply the method in which you harness and use magic, and they are partially correct. Tell me some of the rules of wizardry that you are familiar with."
"Well, you cannot bring someone back to life once they have died. And you cannot conjure love…"
"I cannot create love either, but to someone who breaches the spirit realm on a daily basis, the first is possible with both shamanism and Old Magic."
Harry's eyes bugged out.
"I cannot just resurrect someone from beyond at no cost however. The cost of such a piece of magic is obvious."
"Sacrifice?"
"Not just any sacrifice. An equal sacrifice. In terms of magic at least."
"What about those without magic? If they have no magical power then you would not have to sacrifice anyone, right?"
"No. I would have to sacrifice someone who also has no magical power."
"Oh…"
"And let me say this. It does not have to be a willing sacrifice either."
Harry gulped nervously.
"Being a shaman is a great responsibility. To mess around with such things as life and death is no simple thing. It is always easier to destroy than to create- You would do well to remember that. There are many aspects of being a shaman you will probably be uncomfortable with, but you only get out of it what you are willing to put in. There is always a price to messing around with magics that span outside of our physical realm. You would be best off to not think about resurrection at all. It will take a part of you with it."
Harry sat still for a few minutes, absorbing the information. "What is necromancy then?"
"Necromancy is not its own discipline, but rather just a collection of techniques taken from the others. It is more of an occupation rather than a school of magic, like a blacksmith."
"What of the rituals then, and blood magic?"
The shaman sighed. "I've said it time and time again and it still holds true. There are many aspects of magic that remain unchanged across disciplines. There are many ways to do many of the same things- such is the nature of magic. Rituals, runes, potions… there are no restrictions on them other than specifics usages. I can create potions like they teach at that school you told me about, and I am not a wizard. Blood magic is simply magic that requires blood as an ingredient. I do not know why it has its own category as much of it is just a mix of charms, rituals, and runes anyway. Not all magic is created equal though. Some are stronger than others, just as some acts are stronger than other. Using one's own blood for magic is an act in all itself, and has very strong results. It is because your blood contains your life essence, and you are essentially sacrificing a part of yourself, both physically and magically. I am hardly an expert in your kind's ways though and how they create barriers between magic when no barriers are needed."
"How exactly do you know so much about wizardry anyways?"
"The spirits talk to me. One day they may talk to you also, but you have to prove yourself to them. I have also explored the world quite a bit and met many of your kind before."
"And how do I do that? Talk to the spirits that is, do I have to sacrifice something?" Harry sighed.
"First we keep practicing the basics, and when you are ready, I will prepare you for your proving quest. Now, if you have no more questions about your own kind rather than mine, let's continue with your shaping."
Harry's lessons consisted of the shaman chucking many spells at Harry while 'teleporting' around. Harry knew well enough that the shaman couldn't apparate, but apparently he had a different trick up his sleeve. Jordan said he simply hid himself in the folds of magic like he did his staff, and similarly could not teach it to Harry.
To Harry though, it seemed like the magic would simply leap at him from different directions, seemingly at random. It kept him on his toes, that's for sure. The shaman was using basic generic attacking spells; knockbacks, water jets and fireballs. Nothing that was fatal. Jordan assured Harry that his fireball would 'feel' very similar to a wizarding fire spell, not exactly the same, but enough for Harry to know what to expect.
The shaman was also using his staff to hurl the spells at Harry. When asked, the Shaman simply said that it was more of a mental help than a physical thing, and that it helped him aim also. Jordan's memorable quote was something along the lines of "Often times, our only limitations are the ones we set for ourselves subconsciously." It is one of those recurring ideas that Harry has heard before.
Harry took that to heart as it is very sound advice when dealing with magic. Similarly, self-confidence is also very important in magic, and Harry can remember back to first year in Hogwarts where Hermione could not get her broom to work, and Neville struggled with basic spells. He though he was nearly a squib and his magic reacted as such.
It is thoughts like these that Harry slowly started to understand the small but important quirks in magic, the ones that have remain unchanged even from the Old Days and are just as applicable as 5000 years ago and 1000 years in the future.
Eventually Harry's lessons got slightly more dangerous. Jordan would send lightning bolts or ice shards at Harry occasionally. The goal was multipurpose. Harry was learning what the magic felt like so he would eventually be able to control them himself, and by knowing what lightning magic feels like, he could replicate it for his own purpose.
Also, his original purpose was expanded upon. He predicted where spells were going to come from, and either move, counter the spell, or stop the spell altogether by diverting the magic from forming the spell in the first place. The latter of which was terribly difficult under ideal conditions, and the shaman simply told him patience and practice is the key and not to get his hopes up.
Harry was simply countering the spells, but not in the direct sense. He was fighting fire with fire, water with water, using his wand. It was a matching exercise to show that he correctly identified the spell coming at him. If he messed up, well, then he would probably get hurt; hurling water at lightning was not a smart idea after all.
After several weeks of training like this, Jordan decided that Harry was ready to actually start learning to control the magic himself, from start to finish.
Harry's first attempt at molding and shaping the magic around him to create something substantial was quite explosive. The shaman was the one who always manipulating the magic, so when it was finally Harry's turn, he was not sure how much willpower to put into it. Harry simply followed the universal mantra 'Bigger is Better' and poured all he had into it.
The results were not pretty. Harry was quite attuned to the magic around him, through both of his trainings, and when he was given the go ahead, he forcefully compacted the magic into a dense ball. The ball of raw magic was so dense that you could almost see it in reality, and when he desired the magic to form into a ball of fire, the magic simply exploded outward in an apocalyptic display of fury.
Both Jordan and Harry were blown of their feet and had much of their hair singed off. Steam evaporated off the invisible lake and scalded them in the process. Luckily the hut managed to remain intact, but small fires appeared all over the place.
The shaman quickly got up and was about to take control of the situation when Harry put his hand on his shoulder and said. "This is my mess, I will clean this up."
Jordan nodded his head and carefully watched Harry go through his second attempt at magical manipulation.
Harry closed his eyes and let out a slow breath. While he could not feel the fires directly, he could feel the residual magic that caused it. He could manipulate that magic to cause the fire to spread very fast, as it is easier to manipulate fire if you have some to start with, but he was simply locating them as if it was an exercise.
He briefly mused with overpowering the magic again, except making it water this time, but decided that he needed to work on control. Last time he forced all the magic he could into a tight ball, and then it exploded outwards. He now knew that he need not spend so much time concentrating the magic as the area was very saturated with magic as is.
Harry simply selected a section of the magic around him and asked it to be form into water to put out the fires. The magic formed into a small raincloud, and Harry then coaxed it over one of the fires which it promptly put out with its steady rain. Harry directed it over to the next fire, but it seemed to know what he wanted already and it went fire to fire on its own whim.
After a few minutes all the fires were out and the Shaman asked a question.
"Did you tell the magic to form into rainclouds?"
"No. I simply wanted water to put the fires out."
"I see. You have to clarify better. Sometimes, magic gets a mind of its own and likes to be clever. It was, however, quite effective."
Harry has gotten the hang of the 'basics'- water, fire, lighting, even snow and wind, but there was so many more possibilities out there, and not all related to the elements either. The shaman showed that he had enough control to make boiling snow and freezing fire, and a limited ability similar to druids to control nature. They also had an aptitude for healing magic, but he had yet to have any practice with it. Harry had only seen various physical herbal poultices and compound and the like.
On the surface it seemed like there was not too much that shamanism could do, but when Harry sat down to think about it, there was not much a shaman could not do. Even spells like the (ancient) Fidelus charm could be cast without using a wand and simply using runes instead. Runes are not limited to wizards, and as such a shaman can use them. Still, the spells with visible light effects were very hard to replicate. Even spells such as leg locking charm and tongue tying are nigh on impossible to cast relying on shamanism alone. Harry has been told a countless amount of times that the magic was very raw and primal and lacked the finesse of a wand. It was very easy to kill with a lightning bolt, but to get the magic to animate a knife to chop your food would be very difficult. Many of the wizarding spells that Harry knows are also from a more modern time, namely that of 1990's. There are quite a lot of spells that seem out of place in this time and have no real purpose.
Harry did not really have to worry about it though, as he had access to both forms of magic. He wondered how the Shaman could live without a wand, but then he had to remember that the man has lived without a wand for 5000 years, since before the Bronze Age and Egyptian Pyramids. They had to get by with simple tools, and shamanism was much the same way. It is possible to do nearly anything that is required of the time period, but if necessary they could use massive workarounds or some bizarre spiritual calling rite to fulfill the most elaborate needs.
That was one thing that he was not used to yet- the idea that spirits were behind everything he did. He was willing to accept the idea, but it was still strange seeing the rainclouds act on their own will and the fire sprite that appeared out of the fire pit. Harry often pondered the question of whether it was just the magic or if it was a higher power and Jordan would often have to remind him to stop looking so deeply into the matter. Harry grew up in the muggle world without knowing about magic, and even after all this time magic occasionally seemed awe-inspiring, and some things were just hard to believe regardless. It was purely a mental block, but if he could overcome that one small step, then perhaps he will gain the unification that he seeks. It was like trying to become fluent in a specific dialect of a foreign language. If you did not grown up learning it, then it would be a lot harder to learn later when you are older.
Harry was busy with his inner soul-searching for the better part of the day. Jordan saw this, and knowing what Harry was distracted with, he decided to change up the routine a bit.
Jordan starting collecting the necessary supplies for one of the non-violent magics that a skilled shaman can do. He needed a shallow basin, pure water, and something to sacrifice. The sacrifice had to be a specific item also. In this case, he needed lyrium dust. Lyrium dust can be extracted from crystallized raw magic residue. The raw magic did not have to be from any specific area though, so that was a small relief.
Jordan saw that Harry was still meditating, so he decided to just do it without Harry watching. Crystallizing magic was not terribly difficult in theory, but in essence he was filtering the magical properties out of something magical. It is quite easy to mess around with the raw magic in the air, but the magic also exists in solids and liquids. In order to get crystallized magic, it had to be extracted from something other than air. It needed a base, and air was not good enough.
The solution was quite simple. Jordan simply took a bucket and filled it up from the invisible lake; the water was magical in nature as it was perpetually perfectly clear no matter what went into it, be it fish waste or minerals.
Jordan just used his standard shamanistic magic manipulation and sucked the magic right out of the bucket of water. The crystallizing process was not complicated. Instead of directly manipulating the magic he extracted into a crystalline structure, he used the other ambient magic around him to crystallize it instead. It was to preserve the original magic.
The resulting crystallized magic fell onto the ground. It looked like any other raw gemstone, except it was completely colorless, and had an unnatural sparkle to it. The water that he extracted it from was now normal blue colored water due to the magic being ripped out of it. The crystallized magic itself was inert. Using magic on the crystal would have no effect. The very nature of the substance though made it a very potent ingredient although it was essentially mundane in most uses. It was one of those odd things in life that just define logic.
Grinding the crystal up into dust was not especially hard. The lyrium crystal was not a hard material compared to gemstones like diamond or stone like granite. The tried and true method of taking larger rock and smashing the smaller rock would work adequately in this situation. He took the resulting dust and stored it in a pouch. There was not much, only a couple of pinches.
He brought the bowl and settled it in front of the oblivious Harry. Jordan then grabbed his staff and knocked Harry on the head with it.
"Ow!" Harry exclaimed as he rubbed his head. "What was that for?"
"I was trying to get your attention"
"Well now you have it." Harry replied as he started examining the large pan-like bowl in front of him. It was nearly a meter in diameter and only a few inches deep.
"I decided we shall take a break from the monotony of you attempting to control the elements around you."
"And that is where this bowl comes in? Is there anything special about it?"
"It is made out of normal material, but I only use it for one purpose, and that is scrying."
"And this… scrying is what you are going to be showing me today?"
"Correct. The process is fairly simple, but you will need better control over your magic before you get the hang of it. I will guide your magic through the process though."
"Ok."
"The ingredients are simple. First you need pure water for the scrying bowl. This is done by converting raw magic into it like you have been practicing. The next step requires something from you; a memory. Not just any memory, but one of significance, one at the forefront of your memory and one that you feel connected too."
"How exactly do I extract the memory? I have seen it done with a wand before but I know not how to do that."
"It is no different than asking the magic around you to create a cloud. Simply ask the magic to perform. I find it helps if you place your fingers to your head. Symbolism always helps. You must be concentrating on the memory when you invoke the magic around you. It may be tough trying to perform both at the same time, but that is what practice is for."
Harry steepled his hands against his temple and concentrated on a memory. It took him a few seconds to realize what memory tended to pop to the front of his mind the most.
Jordan was standing behind him and had a hand placed between Harry's shoulder blades. After a few seconds Harry pulled his hands away from his temples and a silver substance could be seen floating in between his fingers.
"Good. Now put it in the bowl, but be careful not to touch the water." Jordan said as the bowl slowly filled up with water from the air.
Once the memory was in the bowl the shaman took out the pouch of lyrium dust.
The shaman sprinkled the dust into the basin with the water and memory already mixing.
"It will take a few minutes for the image to come through."
"What was that dust? It looked like floo powder." Harry asked.
"This is called lyrium dust. Floo powder is similar to it. It all depends on how it is extracted. Floo powder also has other ingredients in it but I do not know the specifics. I will show you how to extract this eventually. For now, I show you how to scry. Ah, the picture is coming through."
They watched the liquid slowly become still and an image could be seen.
"Why am I not surprised that your most prominent memory is of a girl?" Jordan asked amused. "Silly humans…"
Harry visibly blushed. He did not choose that particular memory on purpose, but it did keep popping to the forefront of his mind.
The moving image in the scrying bowl was that of Rowena Ravenclaw. It is odd that she has wormed her way into Harry's mind. They only worked together for one year, and that was several years ago now, and then they shared a single spur of the moment kiss before he started on this journey. His interactions with her have been very sporadic and seemingly random. There was that one date before he even started teaching that he had nearly forgotten about as it did not mean much at the time.
At first the scrying bowl was focused on her face. Her hair was tied behind her back in a ponytail, but a few loose strands kept falling into her face. She would then either blow them off to the side or tuck them behind her ear. It kept happening every few minutes and it was quite adorable to watch in Harry's opinion.
They also booth noticed the soot on her face; the sign that she was obviously working hard on some project of hers.
"This isn't my memory." Harry stated plainly.
"Of course. Your memory serves as a guide to the target. This is what she is currently doing at this very moment."
"Oh." Harry replied dumbstruck. "So she could have just been sleeping… or even taking a bath?"
The shaman chuckled. "It was a possibility. Are you disappointed?"
"N-no!" Harry stammered.
Jordan guffawed in response. It was quite odd to see his apprentice so flustered.
The scrying zoomed out to show more of the scene. There was a lot of smoke and fire so it was hard to see much of anything. They were able to make out that she was pouring metal into something but that was it. The scrying focused back onto Rowena instead of the smoky room.
"Hmm that's odd." Harry said.
"What?"
"Despite all the soot on her face… she looks younger."
"Oh? Do explain."
"Well the last time I saw her she looked much the same as the first time I saw her which was about 8 years before that. She was 25 or so the day I first met her, so she would be someone in the mid 30's right about now. The thing is, she looks even younger than the first time I met her. I thought it was odd that that in the 8 year gap from the first time I saw her and the last, she did not look like she aged at all. But now she definitely looks younger."
Jordan cut Harry off before he could continue rambling any more. "Fascinating. Who exactly is this?"
"Rowena Ravenclaw."
"Hmm." The brought his hand up and started stroking his beard in a sign of contemplation. "Curious. Most curious."
Harry sighed. "What is curious?"
"Is it not strange that you gain 3 years of age, and she loses 3 years of age?"
"Uh…"
"I know not what it means but somehow your magic is affecting her. Do you remember any strange moments with your magic involving her?"
Harry thought back on his previous meetings with her. "The very first time I met. When I took her hand, my magic felt as if I just picked up my wand after a long time of not using it."
"And what exactly is that feeling, seeing how I cannot use a wand?"
"Oh sorry. It just feels… right. Like everything in the world is going to be okay because you just regained a part of yourself."
"How cute." The shaman drawled. "I know nothing of what this means, but it seems your magic has taken a liking to this Rowena Ravenclaw. The question is whether or not she is aware of this."
"Probably. She is probably researching about it right now as we speak. I would bet that whatever she was doing in that scrying had something to do with it."
"You seem quite confidant in that. Give me a minute, I just want to scan your aura to see if it is life threatening."
The shaman sat down in front of Harry and raised both of his hands in front of him. "Stay still and do not speak."
They sat like that for about 15 minutes.
"Ah." The shaman said, breaking the silence. "Well I can say for sure it is a matter of magic, and not the soul."
"I take it that is a good sign?"
"Of course. It was hard to trace, seeing as she is very far away, but I found your magic flowing all the way to her, and hers to you."
"And?" Harry asked eagerly.
"All I know is what I felt, and not what it means. Your magic and her magic feel the same. Think of it like footprints. Every time you use a spell, you leave your own distinct mark on it."
"Yeah, that is called a magical signature."
The shaman shrugged his shoulders. "I have seen people with similar 'signatures' as you put it, before, but the two of yours are very similar, almost identical. If the two of you cast the same spell right next to each other I would have a hard time telling the casters apart. There is a very slight difference between them, but the difference is so minute as to be negligible."
Harry frowned. "That doesn't explain why she de-aged."
"No, quite right. With the amount of magic users in the world there are bound to be quite a few with similar signatures. The mystery is why your magic is actively seeking hers out."
"Do you think it has anything to do with the Hallows?"
"At least in part. The question is how and why? You aged three years, and for some reason the old magics sought fit to drain her of years to counterbalance your gaining of years, but that does not seem to fit with the workings of your particular artifacts. Making you age should have been enough to counter the fact that you were no longer under the influence of them temporarily. Sometimes the old magics work in very bizarre ways. I will need to think about this more but I simply do not know why this happened. All we have is the evidence but we need a motive and conclusion."
Harry continued sitting in his spot next to the lake while the shaman cleaned up. It seemed as if another introspective silence was in order. The main question going through his head was that Rowena's habit of not aging seemed to be some side effect of him being immortal. The question was how far did it go and why? Is it just superficial or is Rowena also have the curse of living forever, simply because they have similar magical signatures?
To Harry, it seemed that for such an insignificance of having similar magical signatures that sharing something like immortality seemed outright impossible. One would think that it would start with something smaller and less obtrusive to the world at large. Having the same magical signature meant that she could use his wand to full potential, or even pass through wards that were keyed into himself. There were a lot of possibilities but immortality definitely seemed like a very large leap. If there was one thing he knew about Rowena though, she would figure it out long before he did. He just wondered when the next time he would see her is. There were too many questions with no way to solve them.
"So are you ever going to tell me what that artifact of yours does?" Harry asked.
"Sometimes a rock is just that- a rock"
"So is that just a rock?"
"No."
Harry sighed. They could theorize all they want about his magical connection with Rowena, but without the two of them standing side by side they were not going to find an answer. And Jordan downright said no to travelling all the way to England.
Harry kept getting distracted and his training was going at a snail's pace as a result. That didn't stop them from continuing though; there were many areas of shamanism for Harry to learn after all. That is why Jordan left the camp after their brief banter and went into the mountainside forest.
The shaman was gone for nearly an hour, but when he returned he was carrying an animal with him.
The animal was six-legged and had purple fur. It looked like a mix of a bear and a raccoon, but it had horn similar to that of a unicorn.
It was also injured. Pretty badly too if the blood soaking the shaman was any indication.
Harry's attention immedietly snapped to the animal. It was very cute looking and was about the same size as a dog. Once you got passed the six legs of course.
"I am going to show you some effective healing magics today."
"Ok… but what in the blazes is that thing exactly? And don't tell me you hurt that creature just for this lesson?"
"Of course not silly boy." Jordan scolded. "I found this already wounded. And for your information, this is a snorkack.
Harry's mind froze. "A… snorkack, you said?"
"Yup." Jordan replied cheerfully, not knowing that he just shattered a part of Harry's youth. "What's wrong?"
"They're… they're real?"
"Why wouldn't they be?"
"I… I just... Never mind."
"Now that we cleared that up." Jordan said sarcastically. "Copy what I do."
The shaman took two fingers and started making a spiral motion with them in the air. After a few seconds you could see spiral of magic glint in the air. He then let the magic drop onto injured leg of the snorkack.
The results were immediate. The wound stopped bleeding completely and started to knit itself.
Harry realized that the shaman was waiting for him to finish it. He took his two fingers and traced a similar pattern through the air, while asking the spirits to give him magic to heal the snorkack's legs.
Surprisingly enough, Harry managed a similar result to the shaman's on the first try. The silvery spiral was similar to a memory in appearance and ductility. He gentle prodded the magic to be absorbed into the animal's skin. He watched as the cuts slowly healed themselves and the leg itself pop back into shape.
"Good. Apparently you are not completely hopeless. I will finish the lingering pain and bruises."
Harry took the compliment in stride. Maybe he really was getting the hang of using the shamanistic approach to magic.
"I feel the time has come for you to partake on the Rite of Initiation."
Harry stood slightly straighter at hearing these words. This was the moment of truth and he was proud of actually making it to this point. Hard work and determination, along with belief in yourself and magic goes a long way.
"If you think your training was hard, think again." Jordan laughed. "The real experience starts now. I cannot help you as this is your test, and you will be travelling alone."
Harry slightly faltered at the news, but he was anxious for a chance to prove himself. He felt that he has learned enough of the basics and is competent enough to pass the initiation so he can learn more advanced techniques.
"Part of your test is to collect the ingredients for the Rite of Initiation itself. You will be making heavy use of the crystallization techniques I have shown you. I will need 7 crystallized substances. I suggest memorizing this list very carefully. They are as follows; water, fire, life, light, darkness, death, and time. Each of these must be harvested from specific places, but there is more than one place for each. It is up to you to find these places. Places such as where water is the purest, fire is the hottest… "
"Ha ha … ha?"
Jordan just stared at him.
"Oh. You are serious. Ok. when shall I go on this adventure?"
"Every shaman since the beginning of time has gone through this initiation. You can leave when you are ready. I suspect it will take you several months at least to gather the ingredients, but I will be waiting here when you return. If you return…"
Harry immedietly collected his meager collection of possessions that he didn't carry with himself at all times. He pulled out his sword out of his bag and strapped it to his waist. Now that he would be travelling alone, he wanted every advantage he could get.
He also started going down the list of items he needed a get and started thinking of where he could get them. The source is where the items are the most purest... Where is death the most pure? Where is life the most pure? Where is fire the most pure? How to you crystallize something like light anyways?
He had a few ideas already. Fire was at its purest when it is coldest. He was pretty sure there are volcanoes in Antarctica, so that is where he would head first. First ideas are always the best ones in his experience. That doesn't mean he was right though.
Harry thanked spirits that his broom was working perfectly. He chalked up the previous malfunctions to something Jordan did for his previous 'tests'. It was his quickest method of transportation, aside from apparation and portkeys. The other two are of no use as you need to know where your destination is located, which he does not.
Despite being a Gryffindor at heart, he still knew how important a plan is. Having a plan was always better than not having a plan. Sure, the quality of the plan was questionable, but at least he had something to start with.
Going to Antarctica to crystallize fire from the heart of Mount Erebus was not going to be a walk in the park.
He would fly straight south on his broom until he encountered the large land mass. Mount Erebus was the only volcano he knew of on the place, but it was more likely he would find some other one first as he didn't know where it was. All he needed though was an active volcano, he would settle for any.
There was one slight problem; the ocean. Flying a broom over the ocean would be borderline suicidal. There was nowhere to stop for rest.
Brand new, his firebolt could pull off 200 miles an hour in a straight line. The broom was now over 10 years old. While the weave of flight charms that are on the broom are very strong, there is still going to be some weakening. He estimated that his broom was still good for 175 miles an hour. He didn't use it all that much; he was hardly a professional Quidditch player, so most of the damage was simply from the passage of time rather than use.
He also didn't fancy flying through a storm while over water. The distance over the water was potentially several thousand miles. In theory he could do that without having to stop if he went without sleep for a few days. It was risky but he seriously thought about what he was actually doing and what the shaman had told him. "If you return…" was what the shaman said.
Harry was not under a timed schedule, but he did have to survive. He decided that he would fly by broom down to the tip of Africa, and then build a boat to sail across the ocean.
Flying down to the tip of Africa went smoothly. It was easy enough to just fly to the ground when you need to eat and rest. Harry was quite adept at surviving in this type of environment as he has done so for many months already.
Building a boat, on the other hand, was a completely different story. He had never been in a boat, let alone the know-how to build one.
He had the luxury of magic however, and multiple types of magic. His plan was to make sure the boat was strong enough to stay together without magic. Of course he would be carving the trees using magic, and using waterproofing charms in abundance. He thought about just transfiguring a boat, but he didn't fancy the possibility of it failing halfway out to sea in freezing waters. Regardless of the Elder Wand's power, nature has always been the most dominant force in the universe. Not to mention he did not know permanency runes or enchantments strong enough to keep a transfigured boat from reverting back to its original materials.
There was no way that Harry could build anything resembling a galleon or brigantine, so he had to settle for something simpler in the form of a catamaran. Granted it would be a large catamaran, so he could hopefully fare the southern ocean successfully.
When he went into the forest to collect the necessary materials, it was then he realized how truly inadequate his wand magic was. He did not have access to any spell tomes, and he only had 6 formal years of education along with one teaching his best subject. His spell repertoire was severely lacking.
He had to make do with what he did know, there was no point is mucking about. A good disposition is always important for one's self confidence.
Finding a tree the size he wanted was no problem. If needed, he could always use his druidic magic to grow it. Cutting it down was the problem. He only knew two cutting spells. 'Diffindo' could cut cloth and probably wood up to half an inch thick. 'Sectumsempra' is the equivalent of a sword slash for a person of average magical power. He didn't know any specific wood cutting or sawing spells so he would have to make do with the sectumsempra. The other choice would be an explosion hex but he didn't fancy having splinters flying at high speeds.
Harry grasped the familiar handle of the Deathstick and cast a nonverbal sectumsempra at the tree. It made a cut about 5 inches deep, but the tree was about 5 feet in diameter.
Realizing that nonverbal was not going to cut, he did not hold back as he made a vicious slash with his wand and yelled out "Sectumsempra!" The spell cut cleanly through the tree, and partially cut into the next tree behind it 15 feet away.
Now he just had had to dodge the falling tree, which was coming down conveniently in his direction. Harry ran about 10 feet before he remembered he was a wizard and simply apparated to a spot about 150 feet away, safe from the falling tree. He levitated the fallen tree down near the edge of the water and went back into the forest to get chop down a few similar sized trees. Trimming the branches off was child's-play, but he also brought them back to the shore. They could have a use.
Harry used the larger two of the trees to be the main length of the catamaran. He would lay planks on top for the base and then create a post for a sail.
He took two other logs and placed them on either side of the first two logs. They would be outriggers for even more stability. He used his cutting spell to trim the front of the logs into pencil-points.
Harry's next more was to grow vines out of the ground to use as rope. It only took a few minutes to collect what he thought he needed.
The branches he trimmed off earlier were now to be used to connect the outrigger logs to the main logs. His lashing skills were minimal, but he knew how to tie a knot. Magic is a helpful tool to use in conjunction with his own shortcomings. With all his logs tied together, it was time to create the decking.
His first thought was to cut a large tree up into planks, but then he realized how difficult such a thing would be. Harry would just lash many smaller branches of similar diameter.
Luckily there were enough branches from the 4 trees he cut down that he would not have to rob other living trees for more.
The lashing process was tedious and taking several days to finish, but in the end it would be worth it. He had to keep reminding himself that there was no time limit. It was quite refreshing to be able to work at his own pace. His safety was in no one's hands but his own. There was no teachers lecturing him, friends harping on him, stingy druid enclaves, or older than dirt shamans taking the mickey out of him at every opportunity. It was just him and his task.
His work was something he could be proud of, even if no one else would ever see it. With the deck complete, he had to make a mast and rigging for a sail, and a shelter for himself.
The mast had to be perfectly straight in his mind. That was hard to find in a natural tree, so he simply grew one on the spot. He mounted the straight mast on a block of wood he connected to the deck. He then made a cross-member for the mast. He decided on a square sail.
He also made sure to attack a rudder to the back of the boat for steering. He was not sure if he would actually need it.
His shelter was a simple affair; just a wooden hut and very plain.
Once everything was built to his satisfaction, Harry started on his second to last task. He had to make sure his boat would not fall apart during the trip. His first idea was a pretty good one.
He grew another large coniferous tree out of the ground and forced it to produce resin in overdrive. The resin poured out of the tree so Harry scooped it up by the handful and smeared it all over the boat. It would help glue the lashing and wood together, and also help with waterproofing. After he was done with the resin he immedietly followed up with a series of strengthening charms and waterproofing magic. He knew ways to make something deflect water in all three areas of magic that he knew.
His last task was probably the hardest, but most important; food and water. He did not know how much he need, and he did not want to overhunt. Worse comes to worse, he could attempt to fish.
Harry was quite adept as preserving the meat he caught and preparing it. Living with the shaman it was one of the first things he was taught, but he had a lot of exposure to it during his druidic training also. Similarly with the various fruits and vegetables he collected from the wild. He collected and preserved them in abundance.
His final order of business was to conjure some proper clothing for himself. Walking into the arctic condition with nothing but a nundu pelt and light cloth clothes was not his cup of tea. The heavy modern fur jacket he conjured would probably suffice, but he would always keep warming charms at the forefront of his mind. In addition, fire was something he had sufficient control over with shamanism to summon forth with a little effort.
Harry finally decided he was ready and he used his wand to move his raft into the water. He carefully climbed aboard and waiting a few seconds to realize that he was actually floating with little chance of sinking at the moment.
The tide slowly pulled the boat out into the sea. The waters were calm and there were no clouds in the sky and very little wind. That would not stop him though. He had magic.
Right away he worked up the ambient magic into a flurry of wind. The conjured sail filled up with wind right away and propelled the catamaran forward.
Not missing a beat, he also started to gain a hold on the surface water. He coaxed the magic around him to form into a current to suck his raft southwards.
The effect was immediate and he had to hold onto the housing to stabilize himself. He was going faster than any handmade wooden raft should be allowed to go.
The outriggers worked like a charm and his craft was very stable. The raft skimmed over the surface and the overall trip was quite pleasant. With luck, he would not encounter any choppy weather.
Harry arrived on the shore of Antarctica with little fanfare. He made pretty good time sailing across the waters. The storms he encountered were no problem with the use of magic. While he had no power over large storms, he could still minimize the localized damage. In fact, he even converted some of the storms own power to help him travel even faster,
He managed to keep warm and fed during trip, as well as dry, the latter of them being the most essential.
He had to carefully navigate the last few miles to the shoreline to avoid icebergs and other floating ice; a feat not terribly difficult with magic. The raft was currently beached on the shores of the main island.
It slowly dawned on him that he was the first human to ever set foot on the continent. It would be hundreds of years before whalers would even lay eyes on this continent, let alone set foot on it.
Harry methodically pulled his broom out his bag. His gloves were thick and it was somewhat difficult to get a good grip on it. Such a trivial matter would not deter him as he set off on the firebolt searching for an active volcano.
He would search for a volcano for several days. His thoughts would be occupied by an equal amount of daydreaming of Rowena and the odd magical connection, and thinking of possible locations for the other elements. He entertained the idea that he could also find pure elemental water on the continent. That idea was dashed when he realized that all the water was frozen, and that melting it would ruin its pureness.
Harry managed to rule out all the other ingredients other than one; light. There was no nighttime at Antarctica currently. The light reflecting off the snow is nearly blinding. He smeared soot under his eyes to help with the reflection. He decided that light reflecting off the ice near the South Pole would be best, but he would find the volcano first.
Finding a volcano was not as difficult as he thought it would be. Mountains do tend to stick out from the rest of the environment, along with the smoke.
The one he started flying off too was not too far away. Flying was very treacherous though, he had to conjure goggles right away. Snow and ice were blowing constantly, and higher up in the air it was quite nasty. Not to mention cold, so very cold. Temperatures could hit minus 100. Warming charms cast by the Elder Wand were just enough to keep him from not freezing, even with heavy clothes on.
After a day of flying, he realized his gloves were frozen to his broom. He could not pull his wand out to unfreeze it, so he had to rely on shamanistic fire. The land was nowhere near as rich in raw magic as the mountaintop encampment in Africa, but there is always some, and it was enough to thaw his gloves.
When Harry finally got close enough to the mountain he realized that it was actually on an island. That was a good sign as volcanoes create islands. And even better sign was the wisps of smoke he saw bellowing from the top.
It was obvious when he got closer that the volcano was active, but not in an explosive way. There was a lava lake in the crater and that is exactly what he was looking for.
The sight itself was incredible to behold as it was the first active volcano he has ever seen. It was surreal to see such an inferno at the coldest place on earth. Not to mention a whole lake made up of molten material. It was quite overwhelming and such beauty made him feel insignificant to the world. He felt like an ant standing in a herd of elephants.
Harry was not here for sightseeing however, so he set about his task after eating a quick meal. He simply had to crystallize the lava, to forever preserve it in its natural state.
He did not fancy getting any closer to the lava than was necessary. Even from the lip of the cauldron he could feel the intense heat. Luckily the crystallization was something he could do at range. Crystallizing something was just like any of the other shamanistic magic, it just had a certain 'feel' to the magic that he had to harness.
It only took about 5 minutes for the crystallized lava to be of a suitable size and he levitated the stone to himself. The crystal was a fiery color that signified what it was, but remarkably it had no temperature at all, almost as if it was exactly his body temperature.
He pocketed the stone in his bottomless bag and set off back to mainland Antarctica. With one element down and 6 more left, his next stop was somewhere on the ice fields where the sun was brightest.
Flying to the middle of the continent was very difficult. The wind was obnoxious, as was the cold. If he was a lesser wizard, he would have died ages ago.
His broom was as reliable as ever, although slightly worse for the wear. He did not know exactly what he was looking for, or how he could crystallize light itself, but with magic anything is possible.
Antarctica was beautiful and dangerous at the same time, and it did not take him too long to be fed up with the place. There was snow and ice for as far as the eyes could see, and it was so bright out that often times he would get headaches even with the conjured goggles on.
Thankfully it did not take him too long to get lucky and come across a good opportunity to collect his light sample.
It was a slightly cloudy day and the sun was shining through the clouds. Harry could see the rays of light branching down to the ground and he decided this is what he was looking for.
Knowing that he needed every advantage possible to go through with this, he forced himself to exude confidence. All it took was one over-surge of magic and he was holding a crystal in his hand. The crystal was a perfect sphere yet it still gave off a rainbow reflection.
He pocketed it next to the crystal fire and made his way back to his catamaran. He still needed to collect water, darkness, life, death and time. He had an idea for water, and it involved a lot of sailing as he only had a faint idea where he could find it.
Harry was currently sailing up the Atlantic. With no knowledge he decided he was near Brazil. He was heading towards the Gulf of Mexico.
It only took him a few hours to thaw out his catamaran when he left Antarctica. He made a few stops along the cost for fresh food and meat, and he ran into one severe storm, but it was nothing worth writing a book about.
Harry has had a lot of time to just relax; it was almost like a vacation. He has also had a lot of time to think about his future. He wanted to see and talk with Rowena but he seriously could not see any possible situation where she would wait for him. It has been several years since that single day where they shared a kiss, and seven years before that where they taught at Hogwarts. He honestly thought that Rowena was probably married by now and with children.
He shifted his thoughts to something more prevalent and that was the 5 elements he still had to capture. His brilliant idea was to capture elemental water from the legendary Fountain of Youth. But sometimes legends are just that; legends.
Harry didn't know why he thought the mythical Fountain was located in the Gulf of Mexico, but he must have heard or read it somewhere. He was well aware that there was no evidence that it had ever been found.
In the end, Harry spent several months combing the waters of south-eastern America and the Bahamas for the fountain and had no luck. He took solace in the fact that many explorers would search for it and never find it.
He decided he was going to give up searching soon, but he decided to go down the southern coast of Central America instead. The decision was made for him when he saw the massive hurricane plow up through the gulf. No amount of magic would make him feel safe in a dangerous storm like that when his boat is essentially just a raft.
Harry skimmed around the storm for about a week before it finally passed him by and hit land. He guided his raft around what appeared to be a peninsula, but he had no idea what future country it would become.
He continued south for many days until the coastline started curving around back north. The weather was nice and he was enjoying swimming and a little bit of fishing. The exotic food he managed to collect from the mainland was a bonus also. He had yet to see any of the locals though, so in that he was lucky.
One day Harry was just lounging on his vessel and enjoying the perfect weather; warm but not too hot and very few clouds, with a very light breeze. He was getting a nice tan when out of nowhere a fog bank rolled on top of him.
In every direction fog slowly crept up on him. He tried to get up out of his prone position but he felt his eyes slowly closing and his body suddenly overcome with exhaustion. He tried extending his magic in a protective cocoon around himself but it was no use. His magic was battered away like a raindrop in a storm.
Harry woke up an indeterminate amount of time later. His food supply was still fresh and his charms still active so it could not have been more than a few day..
He immedietly noticed his change in environment. His catamaran was currently floating in front of a crescent shaped island. There was a lagoon in the center of it, but the entrance to it was hidden from view by a combination of reef and sandbar.
It was a simply choice to summon up the winds to propel his craft into the lagoon. He was known for blindly charging into an unknown situation on occasion, but who was he to argue if the spirits decided to place him here. It was obviously done for a reason; whether that reason was good or bad was yet to be seen.
He carefully entered the shallow lagoon. The craft did not displace too much water so he had plenty of clearance. He was careful to steer around the sandbar and reef to avoid beaching. They helped prevent waves from entering the lagoon.
The lagoon was of a decent size, maybe a thousand feet across. The water was almost completely stale except from a small ripple that could be seen rippling out from the center.
Harry carefully observed the object occupying the center of the lagoon. It was a large obsidian-like rock about 10 feet high. Water could be seen shooting up about a foot from the top of the stone and cascading down its smooth sides.
Harry steered the boat around the rock and looked for an easy way to climb to the top. The sides were not completely sheer, but the various protrusions were worn smooth and unusable to climb.
He guided the catamaran and docked it next to the stone. He threw a rope around the fountain to stabilize the raft.
Climbing to the top of the 10 foot stone was a simple matter of merely conjuring a wooden ladder and leaning it against the fountain.
He climbed up the ladder and peered at the fountain in front of him. He could come to no other conclusion other than this must be the Fountain of Youth. He wasn't sure what act of magic brought him here, but he was not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.
It took a few seconds his brain to actually catch up to what he was witnessing. The legendary, mythical, fictional Fountain of Youth. The mere idea of it rivals with that of the day he learned that magic is real and Merlin is a real person.
He felt like he should be worshipping the fountain, or using latex gloves and a breathing mask around it. Harry was a very curious boy though, often getting himself in dangerous positions. That being said, he settled for conjuring a cup and taking a large sip of the water.
Harry wasn't sure what he expected. Maybe growing wings, being enveloped in an otherworld light, or maybe feeling like he could conquer the world.
None of that happened though. In fact, nothing happened at all.
Granted, it was the best water that he has ever tasted in his life, and he felt a slight tingling feeling, but beyond that, nothing.
He didn't have to ponder on it for long. He remembered what the legends of the Fountain of Youth said it was supposed to do; make you eternally young. Harry just happened to already be eternally young, so it made sense that it would have no effect on him.
Harry gave a small shrug to no one in particular before conjuring a few vials and filling them up. It felt like he just did something wrong, but when he looked around to see if he was going to be smite down from the heavens, nothing happened. He would equate it to someone pissing in Holy Water and getting away with it.
He was about to climb back down his ladder before he remember he still had to get a crystallized sample. He was half expecting something catastrophic to happen, but the magic worked flawlessly. The crystal turned into a multifaceted oval gem.
He settled back on his boat, contemplating his next move. He had water, fire, and light. He needed life, death, darkness and time. For darkness he thought simply about finding a dark cave, but would have to give some thoughts about a cave that symbolized the idea the best. He was having trouble remembering the names of specific caves but he knew that he did know a few back when he was younger. He would have to think about it or maybe just pick a random old cave.
Life and Death were curious objects to try and crystallize. For life he was thinking about visiting Mesopotamia, the cradle of life, and hoping for the best. Death had several possibilities. He knew that Halloween, All Hallows Eve and Samhain were all days relating to death and the spiritual world. They all just happen to be the same day too; October 31. Supposedly on this day the barriers separating the world of the living and the world of the dead were at their closest or thinnest. He contemplating visiting Stonehenge during that day, but did not fancy returning to England without his training complete.
Harry had a few other ideas though such as visiting the dead sea. Another belief some people have, related to the idea of Samhain, is that on the sites of great battles where many people have died, the spirit world and mortal world become very close. He mused around with the idea of visiting ancient battlefields such as Thermopylae. He felt the idea had merit, but decided in the end he would visit the Ancient Pyramids of Egypt instead. They were built as eternal protectors to the immortal resting places of pharaohs. The pharaohs themselves were supposed to be immortal, at least in part, so it seemed like the ideal place for him to visit, seeing how he himself is actually immortal.
The more he thought about it, the more he convinced himself that visiting the ancient burial sites of the revered godlike pharaohs seemed like the right course of action.
Time was the most curious one. Crystallizing an intangible object is an odd thing in itself, but to crystallize part of the very fabric of the universe was something altogether. His first idea was to visit the ancient city of Atlantis, believed to be lost forever to the sands of time. He threw that course of action out the window after he thought it through. He himself was on a thin leash with Time as it is, and he did not want to face the possibility of getting lost forever in the sands of time if he actually decided to go looking for it. There was no proof that it actually existed either, but then again, there was no proof to say that it didn't exist.
In the end he decided he would have to think about it some more and opted to work on the other ones instead. Egypt and Mesopotamia are close together, so that is where he decided to go first.
Harry thought about destroying the fountain so no one could ever use it for evil, but decided against it. The spirits of magic had hidden the fountain well enough for many millennia, and they would continue to do so.
Harry did not feel it would be productive to sail across the entire Atlantic Ocean and down the Mediterranean to arrive at Egypt. He focused back to his initial flight into Africa. He flew only a few hundred miles from where he knew Egypt to be.
He visualized the location clearly in his mind. He briefly though he must be crazy to attempt a ten thousand mile apparation. Anything more than a few hundred miles and the danger of splinching yourself went up considerably. For a distance this big, a splinching would probably result in him turning into a fine mist of blood and gore.
But he wasn't Harry Potter for nothing. With a little bit of help, he felt he could accomplish it.
He reached out with all his senses and nearly passed out on the spot when he felt how much magic was inundating the air around him. The Fountain of Youth lagoon was immensely magical. It also probably had muggle repelling charms and that would explain why no muggle had ever found it before.
Harry carefully pulled the magic into his own being, like he did once before. He swirled the magic through his lattice core, coming closer to nature than he had ever done before. He risked the possibility of blowing up, but luck has always been on his side when he needed it most.
The amount of magic at his disposal was immense. It was too much in fact, and the chance of any actual spells backfiring was more than likely. Even being a human with a double-sized magical core along with druidic and shamanistic control over magic, the magic was beyond him, for lack of a better word. The only thing he could do with the magic was release it. The amount of power had only one use; fuel
So that is what he did.
With a massive earth rending sonic boom Harry apparated ten thousand miles to Egypt. He would nearly empty the lagoon with the tidal wave he created, but the water would be sucked back by the temporary vacuum that inhabited his previous location.
While apparation is nearly instantaneous over short distances, over ten thousand miles it took over a minute and a half. That was a minute and a half of being squeezed like a tube and having your stomach loath your very being.
When Harry arrived he immedietly threw up the entire contents of his stomach and promptly passed out in his own muck. But he was alive.
Harry woke up several hours later and wasted no time in washing himself of his own vomit. He took in his surroundings and noted that he was in one of the camps he made on his initial journey across Africa, so all was well.
He knew the Pyramids were near Cairo, which was situated on a river. Probably the Nile River if he remembered correctly.
His plan to find the city was to fly east following the Mediterranean Sea until he came across the Nile. He dug through his bottomless bag and was relieved to note everything was still intact. He promptly pulled out his broom and took to the sky. His broom was fast enough that he could probably make it in one go without having to stop for rest, but with his body sore from the brutal apparation he opted to not push it and just take two days instead.
With his firebolt he managed to cover the thousand-plus miles in two days. The sun was glaring down at him, but it was something he knew how to counter. The hot and dryness was nothing he hasn't countered before for extended periods of time.
Finding the Pyramids in such a large area was not as hard as he thought it would be. They were the largest landmarks for miles around.
He arrived at the base of the northern most Pyramid. He was naturally wary because he knew Bill Weasley was a cursebreaker that worked on these types of tombs. Bill has told quite a few gruesome stories involving magical traps and other protections on the tombs.
Harry did not have the luxury of being a skilled cursebreaker. In fact he knew nothing about the profession or the spells they used for their job.
He did have one thing that he thought would help him out immensely; his trained ability to sense and feel magic. With that he should be able to feel wards and enchantments and be able to ignore them. That was the plan anyways, but he would be the first to tell you that the best laid plans only last 5 minutes at best.
He walked around the base of the tall pyramid before he came across the entrance. There was nothing on the exterior that hinted at a door, but Harry sensed the charms that were trying to repel him. A normal wizard might have been affected, but Harry was no normal wizard. He simply walked through the wall disguised door. It was similar to the feeling that you got from entering the Hogwarts Express platform at King's Cross.
His senses lit up right away when he entered, but his eyes didn't show anything. He was visualizing axes sweeping out of walls, arrows shooting from hidden nooks, or pitfalls, but he doubt that there were any of those here. There were pressure plates on the ground though, or the magical equivalent. There were also patches of magic on the walls too- traps of some sort. He would need constant vigilance to make it through.
The first thing he did was create a ball of light to see with. Immedietly he noticed a skeleton leaning up against the wall, long dead. He ignored it.
His magic senses echoed down the corridor. He felt two passages that branched off. He also noticed the floor was littered with magic rectangles. He came to the conclusion that they were trap triggers and as long as he didn't hit any of the enchantments, he would not set them off. It was an easy process to walk past them, despite their large numbers. He essentially played hopscotch and successfully reached the first passage without touching the ground traps or the walls.
When he reached the next passage, he saw that it was going to be a lot more problematic. He felt layers of magic going across the whole passage. Most likely hostile charms and enchantments.
This is where Harry's shortcomings as a wizard really come out to haunt him. He knew a few counterspells, sure, but nothing to dispel wards. And there was no spell to simply identify them. As far as he knew, you either get a feel for which is which, akin to survival skills such identifying edible shrubs, or you simply perform the cause and effect test and record the results.
Harry knew what a few wards felt like, but all of them are of the repelling variety that he used while in the shamans care. He tried to get a feel on their hostile nature, but they all felt identical in nature.
All violent.
Harry wasn't about to charge though them without knowing what they would do. That is he conjured a small warthog and sent it through the first ward. The result was a loud squeal and the sound of electricity followed by the smell of cooking bacon.
It was fairly obvious that he did not want that to happen to himself.
He only had a single idea of how to overcome the wards; overpower them. Luckily, magical power was something he had in excess. The question is whether or not he is more powerful than the ancient mages who cast the spells in the first place.
Harry was going to punch through the ancient protections with nothing other than pure, raw magic. He based his idea of nothing other than what his heart told him would work, but in his mind it made sense that a ward would not be tripped by raw magic as long as it was not turned into an actual spell.
The ability to feel and control magic was what he enjoyed about shamanism the most. Druidism is similar, but this was so much more. The survival skills, and the region oriented healing magic and poultices was nice, but being connected with nature was something he wouldn't trade for the world.
Still, there were elements of being a wizard that were just superior to anything he could do with raw magic. With a wand you had many hundreds of different spells for nearly any occasion. You can break specific bones, light their blood on fire, or simply stun them, there are many choices. It was more refined. But sometimes you do not need refined magic- you just need a battering ram.
That is why he formed the raw magic around him into a cone shape. He slowly slid the magic into the volatile ward and he gave a sigh of relief when it did not kill him right away. Harry spread his magic into the ward until he had an arch-like hole for him to walk through. When he was on the other side, he slowly withdrew his magic and the ward closed up as if it had never been breached.
It took him a few hours to reach the end of the passage way. Ward-breaching with his method was not something he fancied rushing.
The passage opened up into a larger passage that angled up at 45 degrees. At first glance it looked like it was a set of stairs that led up into the pyramid. Harry knew he had to be very cautious when going up the stairs. He was sure that his goal was somewhere past the obstacle, but it was the obstacle itself he had to worry about.
He could not sense any magic in the passage at all. His eyes told him a different story. The walls were covered in painted hieroglyphics. He was probably the first person to lay eyes on them since the pyramid was sealed thousands of years ago.
The whole time he was looking at the walls he was on the lookout out for traps. No magic traps in his mind meant that there would be a lot of mechanical ones. He was examining an Anubis figure when he noticed there was a hole where the eyes were supposed to be.
Harry guided his light sphere closer to wall and saw the telltale glint of metal from within the hole. It was an arrow trap or something akin to it. Harry took a step back down the passage and crouched to the ground to examine the floor.
He was looking for the trigger to the mechanism. The floor had no discernable pattern to it. It was a random series of motifs that did not make sense to him. He traced a line down from the trap and started looking for anything that stood out. He got lucky when he saw that there was a small oval that seemed slightly out of place from the rest of the design.
Harry thought about tripping the trap, but there was no way to know exactly what it triggered. There could be more than one arrow, or he could collapse the whole passage onto himself.
He did not have the patience to muck about with sneaking around all the traps, so he did what he did best.
He pulled his trusty firebolt out of the broom and mounted it. He slowly glided his way up the ramp while taking great caution to not to touch any of the stone.
Harry continued flying into the next room while at the same feeling for any trace of magic. His senses went haywire and brought his attention immedietly to the large ornate sarcophagus perched in the center of the room.
As soon as he completely entered the room he heard the sound of stone grinding.
He turned around immedietly to see a large slab close off the path he just came from. He saw no other physical way out.
Harry examined the room very carefully. He memorized all the hieroglyphics as he might be the last person to ever set foot in this room. He saw none of the cleverly hidden traps that adorned the previous room. He felt no magic other than the massive concentration from the middle of the room.
Harry turned around and faced the object in question and started inspecting it. The scale of the situation was having its effect on him. It was not quite on the scale of the Fountain of Youth, but being the first to explore the pyramid was still something.
It was then he realized that he could get two crystallized elements here; Death and Darkness.
Harry quickly extinguished his light.
The room became deathly still and stale, drenched in complete blackness. The darkness felt like the type that would be around for eternity, and the likelihood of that is quite possible.
Harry pooled his magic around himself and forced some of the darkness to congeal into a tangible substance. He knew Hermione would be apoplectic at such blatant defiance of all things magical, but Harry believed that it was possible for it to work, so his magic complied.
Harry blinding reached his hands out and clasped onto a chunk of crystal. He quickly stuffed the impossibly solid darkness into his bottomless bag, next to the others.
Capturing death was only marginally harder. As with the previous wards, he could snake raw magic past them without consequences. Death had a habit of lingering, and Harry just had a feeling that the sarcophagus was full with death. If he could turn darkness into something substantial, then why couldn't he with death?
That was his line of thought as he focused the magic to conform to his bidding. The magic resisted slightly at first, but Harry coaxed it along until he was holding a nondescript chunk of stone in his hand. He pocketed it next to the others as well.
With those two elements out of the way, he only had two more left. He wondered if he could also harness time from this place. He contemplated it for a few seconds before he decided it would not work. If the pharaoh was timeless, then he would be alive. And seeing as how he just got his crystallized death, he had no use for the dead guy. Dead guys are not immortal, they are simply dead. Their spirits and souls are another matter, but they are another plane of existence altogether and play by different rules that are of no concern to him.
Harry's next stop was Mesopotamia. The closed walls were of no significance to him because he simply apparated to outside. He grabbed his broom and zipped off east. It was worth noting that he was able to apparate to outside the pyramid, but not back in.
Harry's arrival into the 'cradle of life' was undramatic. He didn't know what he was looking for and all he knew is that modern life started in the area between the two rivers here.
Harry would fly over the whole countryside and stop at anything that simply stood out from everything else. He of course had to use the disillusionment charm on himself, as there was many people living in this part of the world.
Harry, being Harry, did stumble across something worth investigating.
It was a small bubbling pool of liquid, no larger than a bathtub. The fact that it was bubbling is what threw him off.
The substance in the pool looked like a potion of sorts, but his senses told him that it was completely without magic.
Harry was hesitant to touch the ooze, but it looked primal in nature.
Harry shivered while he observed the soupy ooze bubble and pop a few times. The smell wasn't great either.
He had a feeling that this was the something he was hoping to find. Harry wasted no time before pooling his magic together like all the previous times. He concentrated on the primordial ooze and a crystal slowly started to form on the top. After a few minutes it was done and Harry carefully levitated it out of the goop and into his bottomless bag.
With that out of the way, he only had one more to get. Time. He needed to find something that was timeless. He didn't much fancy crystallizing a part of himself, but there were other options. Elder vampires maybe, but the obvious choice was his shaman mentor. The man was 5000 years old and didn't look to be dying anytime soon. Heck, he wasn't even sure the guy was human, despite outwards appearances.
With a very loud POP, Harry apparated back to the shaman's encampment.
Right away he noticed the shaman was sitting in front of a fire, whittling on a piece of bone.
"Ah, Artemis. I see you are still alive. I guess I should state that I was joking when I said that apprentices usually take a few months to gather the ingredients. They usually took no more than a week… I expect you went on some grand adventure and would not settle for any old primal fire or water."
Harry had the decency to stand there for 5 whole minutes with his mouth gaping open like a fish.
"Bugger. So I could have been done years ago?"
"Yup." The shaman said delightfully. "But I can tell by your posture that you need something still…"
"Yeah. Crystallized Time. I was wondering if you could give me a little bit of it from yourself?"
"Ah, is that all?" The shaman said sarcastically. "Is that the last piece you need?"
"Yeah, I got the other 6 right here."
"Ok let me see them. I will start the potion so we can finish this once you have the last."
The shaman bustled about the inside of his hut for about an hour, and came out holding a piece of rolled up hide and a goblet filled with an unknown liquid.
"The shows all yours kid, do your thing."
Harry swirled his magic around himself as a shroud. His senses were going haywire when he felt exactly how much magic was at the shaman's disposal- it seemed infinite. No matter, he only needed a small piece.
He felt his way through the shaman's magic, looking for the juiciest and most concentrated portion. It was also the brightest, and when he found it he immedietly crystallized it.
He handed the crystal over to the shaman who immedietly began working with the 7 elemental crystals.
"Remember this. You can never control magic. You can use it, manipulate it, but never control it. It controls you. You cannot live without it. Your very essence is intertwined with it. It has you by the balls and it would serve you well to remember that. You treat magic with respect, and you will get respect in return."
Harry could not tell what shaman did but the 7 crystals all molded into one very tiny crystal. That crystal then became liquefied after some coaxing from the shaman. He poured it into the goblet.
"There is one ingredient left, and that is life essence of the elder; my blood." Jordan then cut a vein and poured quite a bit of his blood into the cup.
Harry looked slightly repulsed but he was not about to back down now.
"The effects will not be immediate, but there will be effects. You will most likely fall unconscious sometime after you drink it. If I am not here when you wake up, then I want you to read this note I wrote for you. It will explain a few things. Are you ready?"
"Ready as I will ever be." Harry took the cup out of Jordan's hand. "Cheers."
Harry took the goblet and chugged it down completely before the taste could register. It took all his considerable willpower and then some to keep from throwing up. It was the single most foul tasting concoction that has been brewed on the face of the earth. It made polyjuice taste like butterbeer and made Firewhiskey taste like nothing but plain water.
The blood was not even the most dominant taste, but the coppery flavor was there in abundance. There were other ingredients in the potion also, ones that the shaman prepared before adding the crystallized loveliness, but none of which he could identify. The crystallized element was the main deal though. The taste of death was indescribable, and nothing that no mortal should ever try. The rest was anything but child's play.
After a few minutes of clutching his stomach and trying not to throw up is when his whole world started to fall apart. He started to feel extremely woozy and lightheaded, almost drug like.
Harry did not even notice the shaman come up and start a chant in a long-dead language. The shaman took his ancient pendant in one hand and pressed it up against Harry's chest.
A white glow engulfed the both of them, but Harry did not notice because his eyes rolled up into the back of his head. The last thing he heard before passing out was "Farewell, Harry Potter."
Harry wasn't sure what was going on. He didn't know if he was dead, dreaming, hallucinating, or something else. It was almost as if he were in an out-of-body experience, or in a pensive because he had no control over the images he was seeing
A large cloaked figure stood at the topmost point of a dreary looking fortress, his back turned to the newcomer.
Harry recognized the newcomer as himself right away, but had no idea who or what the other thing was.
Harry was noticeably shivering, and it was only intensified by the nasty storm going on around them. The cloaked figure slowly turned around. Harry's green eyes locked with the fiery demon-like eyes of the other figure.
"I will break you boy. I know things you cannot even dream of."
"I doubt that. I have seen things that you could not even begin to comprehend, let alone dream, beyond the realms of the mortal world. You are like a festering wound, but you will die in the end. I will make sure of it."
The scene slowly changed into something less dreary.
Harry was lying down and saw the pile of clothes at the foot of his bed. To his right was a table with flowers in a vase, and two half finished glasses of wine.
He heard a voice emitting from the bathroom. "That was so great last night; I never imagined that it would be so enjoyable. We should have done that a long time ago…"
Harry didn't get to see the face of the voice before the scene changed again.
Harry was standing in a familiar looking forest. In front of him was standing a young woman. She had black hair and was wearing a handmade outfit, but it was not something you would find a civilized person wearing, even a witch. She was wearing a skirt made up of feathers and possibly leather. Her shirt was nothing more than a scarf that went from around the back of her neck, down her average sized but nicely shaped breasts and across her stomach. She was also wearing a long glove on her left arm that went all the way to her shoulder and was ornamented with a few feathers. She also had a large carved staff attached to her back that was clearly magical in nature.
"Can I teach someone to become a shapeshifter you ask? Yes, I suppose I could. Will I? No." The girl snootily said.
"What if I were to offer something in return?" Harry asked
"What could you possibly have that I would want?"
"A grimoire. I believe you know which I refer to?"
"A grimoire you say? And pray tell me how did you come across said grimoire?"
"Now that would be telling. So do we have a deal?"
"We have a deal. I teach you how to control it, and you will give me that book."
Harry had no clue what that scene was about, but it abruptly switched after that deal was made.
Harry was standing amidst a veritable battlefield of carnage. All around him were dead and wounded, many dressed in suits of armor and carrying kite or tower shields made of iron.
"Who are you to stand against my might?" A man questioned from a small distance away. His eyes blazed green as he waved his wand in a complex motion.
"I am your downfall, Potter. This has gone on far too long." Harry replied to the other man. "I will not sit idly by as you destroy my land. Prepare to die!"
The scene changed once again, but Harry couldn't help but be freaked out by the last one.
Harry watched a horse-drawn carriage waltz by and stop in front of two waiting men. One was a young man with auburn hair and the start of a beard. His nose had a noticeable crook in it that seemed vaguely familiar. The other man was middle aged with streaks of grey at his temples. He extruded an aura of power, but it was cordial and respected.
"No need to be shy, Albus, the carriage won't bite." The older of the two men chided the other.
"Yes, yes, I know what a carriage is old man!" The younger of the two joked. "Is there no faster way to travel?"
"My manor is charmed against apparation and portkey. There are very volatile substances there and any small influx of magic could unsettle them. Best to be safe, as any small mistake could be your last. Such is the life of an alchemist." The older man sighed. "Still, having an apprentice around could be helpful. If you are nice, I might even show you my recent discovery of a new use for Dragon's Blood."
Harry was intrigued by this scene, but it faded into a new one before he could see anymore of the young Dumbledore.
Harry was watching Dumbledore slowly lose ground to Voldemort. Harry saw the killing curse arc towards the aging headmaster and decided then to step in. He faded into view right in front of the curse and brought up his two warblades and deflected it. Just as this happened, ministry officials started to floo in.
He then faded right behind Voldemort and stuck his right sword right through his chest, and lopped off his left arm with the other. I then kicked the man into the Fountain of Magical Brethren. Harry knew the wounds would not kill him as his body was mostly made of magic and was essentially a construct, but it would still piss him off. Voldemort looked shocked, but as he was about to send a fireball at him, Voldemort quickly decided to make his getaway. He portkeyed away before anything else could happen, but left his severed arm on the ground.
It just happened that Fudge saw Voldemort with his own eyes and said "It was Him, He really is back, I cannot believe it, I saw it myself…what a mess… what's a man to do? … …."
Dumbledore slowly grabbed onto the outstretched hand and was pulled up by the young Harry. "What is the identity of my rescuer?" The headmaster asked wearily.
Harry smirked and sheathed his swords. "Artemis Entreri," was all he said as he apparated away.
The images shifted once more and Harry settled in to watch.
There were several hundred people gathered on two sides of an aisle. Harry saw himself watching the proceedings from afar. The bride was slowly walking up the lane being escorted by her dad. She was quite pretty, even sexy, with her envious curves, slender legs and cute face, but neither the real Harry nor dream Harry felt any jealousy.
The groom was already waiting for her with tears of love coming out of his eyes. It was himself, or rather his true self that was native to this dimension.
Harry watched as Harry and the unknown platinum blonde haired bride lost each other in their eyes, striking green meeting lovely blue-gray.
"We are gathered here today…"
The scene flickered briefly into a new one. His viewpoint was quite far away in this one, too far to make out either of the people.
A man and a woman were lying down next to each other on a sandy beach. They were utterly isolated, and there were no sounds other than the waves, not even a bird. They both had black hair and both were wearing sunglasses. They watched as the sun slowly sank down into the horizon.
"Well, I guess this is the end…?" the female said. Their serenity was broken by the sound and sight of mushroom clouds appearing on the horizon.
"No. This is just beginning." The man said. "Our work starts now."
The scene faded out and changed to an overhead view of a place he was familiar with; the shaman's encampment.
Everything was burnt to the ground, and he saw two figures laid out next to each other. One was the shaman. His eyes were closed and his chest was not rising. He looked at peace in death.
The other was a small winged creature, no bigger than a foot. It was covered in white and blue scales, with hints of silver at the seams. It was serpentine in shape, and if Harry didn't know better he would say it was a baby dragon. An expert would say it was a young whelpling or wyrmling.
Harry's viewpoint started descending towards to ground, slowly getting closer to the dragon. He wondered when it was going to stop when his point of view went right into the creature.
Harry immedietly snapped his eyes open and looked around. His head pivoted and he immedietly saw his wings. He struggled to stand up on his feeble hind legs, and his front arms were equally worthless to his new body.
It was then he realized that he was the dragon. He started hyperventilating at the severity of the situation. He was panicking and wondering if it was permanent.
He tried to get all his limbs working in sync, but it was almost as if he had 6 limbs plus a tail to work together, and he just couldn't do it. The feeling was too foreign.
His fears were short-lived though as his body slowly reverted back to his natural human form.
The first thing he noticed was that he felt very cold. The then noticed the breeze flowing around certain areas. He was completely naked. He wasted no time in conjuring a robe for himself. He saw his nundu pelt and other clothes off to the side with a letter on top. It was the letter that the shaman mentioned before.
At the thought of the shaman he immedietly turned around and went over to where he was on the ground.
He checked the pulse, listened for breathing, felt the chest for movement, and even lifted the eyelids to look at the eyes. He felt no magic at all emitting from the man, just residue left over from something that once was.
Jordan was dead and Harry was at a loss. He was not ashamed that he started to cry, he was the only companion he had for many years.
He didn't know what to do and he was having trouble getting his thoughts together. He didn't know what to make of the induced visions he had, but one of the last things the shaman said to him as to read that letter.
He unrolled it and read;
Artemis.
By now, if you have not figured it out, I am dead. Although that term is relative as I am not sure I was ever alive in the first place. I was not as human as you were lead to believe, but that is of no significance.
I am a spirit, and I return from whence I came; I am from the barrier that separates your world from the land of the dead. Some would simply call it magic. I am born of the same material as Fate and Destiny itself.
Remember when I told you that raw magic in large concentrations likes to take on its mind of its own? I am a being of pure magic that was given sentience for a specific task; to teach you. I was brought into this world 5135 years ago for this exact moment. I was the very first shaman on this planet, but I am not the last, and neither are you. Our skills live on in the form of many shamans that I have taught done the years, so do not fret.
Now for the reason to why I am dead. I knew you would need my essence to create the crystallized time. I knew this before I even met you. I essentially gave up my immortality to do this and I would have died in less than one day as a result. That is why I willing imbued my life energy into you. Combined with the Rite of Initiation, you will have no doubt have discovered the new gift that has been bestowed upon you. It is up to you to figure out how to use it. I will give you a hint and tell you that it is not an animagus form- sorry, but it is perhaps much more potent. There are many things I have not taught you about being a shaman, but becoming a master in the art is your choice to make, not mine.
My sacrifice was something I knew I was going to have to do since the day I came into this world, and I knew when I sent you off on your little trip that it was finally time for me to fulfill my purpose. Some things are just Fated to us, and I know you know this better than most.
I know you remember the lesson I told you about resurrecting the dead. It takes an equal life force, amongst other things, for it to work. The Initiation works on the same basic idea, except the sacrifice of life is not usually necessary. I was the only equal life force that was suitable for it, but it required all of it to perform, as I suspected it would. Vampires may be immortal, but they are also dead and thus have no life force, so do not trouble yourself over the decision as it was made millennia ago.
What you do with your powers is your choice. You are a Wizard, a Shaman, and a Druid. Your Fate and Destiny are not as set in stone as you think. You are a protector, that much is clear. Not all events are within your control, and not all events are even within Fates control. Not everything happens for reasons you can understand, and some things happen to matter how hard you try to prevent them.
Remember back to the first day we met. You were looking for an evil book, and you did not find it, and now you fear its knowledge has leaked into enemy hands. Your original purpose has now turned into a much larger purpose of combating the evil that would subjugate your lands. You are uniquely suited for this task and you have many resources at your hand to accomplish your task.
My final words of advice are to try and tie up the loose end with that book, as you might find a source of much evil at its end. You may also find something that you thought lost and beyond reproach to be your greatest ally.
~Oduduwa
P.S. I suggest you take the stone that is attached to my necklace. Its origin directly correlates with my entrance into your world. While on your planet, I was human in essentially the same way that a conjured rabbit is a real rabbit. Seeing how I was made from magic, I could not have any magic of my own. That is part of why I was a shaman, so I could use natures magic. The stone held my personal magic. With my death it loses most its power, but I am sure you know someone who could find a use for it.
Harry finished reading the letter and was once again at a loss for words. The turn of events was too much for him.
He though he saw movement out of the corner of his eye, and when he turned to look he saw Jordan's body slowly dissolve into the air before disappearing altogether.
All that was left was Jordan's Old World artifact. Harry picked it up and dubbed it 'The Stone of Jordan.' He looked around and saw that there was nothing salvageable, and nothing left for him here.
He had much to think about, such as the odd magical gift that the shaman imbued into him. If it was not an animagus form, what was it?
With a swirl of his magic, Harry apparated back home.
Author's Notes
This chapter has been complete for a few weeks now, but I have taken my time editing it. Due to my new time demanding job, I have not given this as many read-throughs as I have liked (a mere 3) so the quality of it may have slipped to a larger than normal amount of grammatical and spelling errors.
If anyone wants to beta any parts of my story (past or future chapters) please send me a message. I am my own toughest critic, but it is also sometimes hard to catch my own errors. Also, if there are any glaring plot holes, send me a message. Often times I do have the answers but simply did not convey my ideas good enough in the story.
Next chapter we will see Rowena again. Just remember that this is primarily an action/adventure fic and not a romance, although there will be some, as I have been including small details and hints.
I decided to place the Fountain of Youth in the Chicxulub crater, as opposed to its mythical locations such as Bimini or the Gulf of Mexico. I briefly thought about putting it at the head of the Tigris or Euphrates River.
If you are confused about the difference between the various magic 'disciplines' that have been talked about so far, it is somewhat intentional. Shamanism is a sort of blend between druidism and 'Old Magic' Old Magic is intentionally vague, but is the building blocks to modern magic. Think of the Room of Requirement and the idea that Hogwarts is semi-sentient, and then you have a partial idea of 'Old Magic.' Shamanism and druidism are kind of two sides of the same coin, and there is a lot of overlap between disciplines, but there are enough differences to be noticeable.
I have no plans for Harry to learn any other 'magical disciplines'. I have shown with Rowena and Jordan that such categories as dark magic, blood magic, warding, do not exist but are simply coined terms for existing sub categories or mixes of charms, runes, etc. It is intentionally confusing to a degree on purpose- I wanted to show that Wanded magic is more scientific and refined than the primal magics, but lacking in some areas. Wanded magic is pretty much magic adapted for modern use, while Old Magic has limited uses in modern civilization because it is essentially the caveman of magic. Harry is doing his best to learn from both worlds.
Wandless magic as typically seen in fanfiction (casting stunners with your fingers, waving your hand to summon or banish something) does not exist as such in this universe. Wandless magic almost strictly refers to different branches of magic that do not require a wand, potions, runes, shamanism, druidism, etc
I tried to explain that ideas such as necromancy are not their own branches of magic, but rather just a set of skills a person favors over other types of magic, just like an auror usually has a specific set of skills they use more than others, or a set of skills that a blacksmith specializes in.
I said in the end that the shaman Jordan (Oduduwa) was not human and was a 'spirit'. For LotR buffs, you can compare Jordan to Gandalf who is an Ainur, which is essentially an otherworldly type being taking human form.
On a final note; I have a slight desire to redo some of the earlier chapters, namely just the first 3 or 4. There are some things I wrote that I am no longer fond of, and I think that my intents with some of my ideas are getting muddled because of the time elapsed from when I first wrote them to now. I am worried that I might start contradicting some of my own ideas, and it is possibly that I have already done so.
I do like the lighthearted feel my story has in general, but I do get longwinded sometimes, as this Author's Note shows. I have thought about changing the rating to M so I could include some 'heavy romance' scenes, but I may just add those scenes into an alternate version of this story to add to either here or ficwad. I don't think there has ever been a good lemon scene of HP/RR and it is something I am interested in writing, but with this story not really romance heavy and rated T I don't see it happening.
Finally, I have a lot of ideas for c13, but I don't have that much written yet. I will say though, that so far, this story is still in its prologue stages, after all, it is supposed to span 1000 years. C13 will finally show the HP/RR pairing for everyone who has been waiting…
