CHAPTER 3:

THE DOLL AND THE WIZARD

If there was a word that Harry could sum up everything positive about the Messengers, it was, oddly enough, endearing. Which was weird, as they looked like malformed undead babies that were horrific as all hell. And yet, they had a strange charm to them. For all that they looked sinister, they also had a bizarrely creepy cute nature to them. They had the same sycophantic nature the House Elves did too, even if they were considerably more ugly and horrific.

"So, what are they?" he asked the Doll as she cradled one in her arms.

"Beings who seek out Hunters to be bound to the Dream, and serve them. Talk, they do not, but they are sweet, no?"

"Honestly, yes. And I am surprised I said that," Harry said. "But do you know anything else about them?"

"Not really. They help facilitate transport between worlds, specifically the waking world, and the Dream," she said. "But their origins…I cannot say. I know not whence they came. But I believe Gehrman once said he saw statues in their likeness in the Pthumerian Labyrinths."

"…It's not right, the way he talks to you, talks about you."

"I am used to it. It may not be right in your eyes, but I am used to it. Let us not speak about such unhappy matters, Harry. The fact that you came into my life, and showed yourself to be more than an animal companion, is happiness enough." She gently lowered the Messenger she was babying to the ground, and it disappeared, the ground seemingly bubbling like water for a moment. "Still…forgive me, but I find myself curious…where do you come from? And what was your life like?" As he stared at her, she said, "I'm sorry if I was too forward…"

"No, no…it's just…it's not often people ask me about my life. Back home, I'm…famous. I didn't realise I was famous until I was twelve years old. They called me the Boy Who Lived, because I survived a lethal curse nobody else did…all at the age of one, thanks to something my mother did. She sacrificed her life to save my own." He noticed that the Doll seemed to stiffen at this. "What? What is it?"

"Sorry, I just…sensed something resonate within me when I heard that. A noble sacrifice. And your father?"

"He died too. I was sent to live with relatives, and…they weren't the best of people…"

The Doll listened to his story. What a painful and yet wonderful life this young man had led. It sounded like something from a story book, and yet, Harry had lived through it. True, she had heard many such stories from the Hunters who passed through the Dream. And yet, this one, at least, came from another world.

After he had finished, and she considered this, he asked, "So…are there any things like that here? You know, like dragons, werewolves and the like?"

"Dragons, to my knowledge, are mythological," the Doll said. "But Gehrman and the Hunters describe the victims of the Beastly Scourge as often ending up not unlike werewolves in many cases. The Vilebloods of Cainhurst are like vampires. There are giant-like creatures, used as enforcers by the Huntsmen militia of Yharnam, or different giants used by the Healing Church, but derived from Pthumerian stock. I myself believe that my model, the woman Gehrman was inspired by, was of Pthumerian extraction, as most Pthumerians were noted for their height, pale skin and hair. The royal line of Cainhurst in particular was proud of their Pthumerian heritage. The Basilisk sounds even more dangerous than the parasitic snakes in the woods surrounding Byrgenwerth."

"No Dementors here, though?"

"Thankfully, not to my knowledge. Some beings Hunters spoke of induce emotions, yes, but generally a frenzied madness, not despair. There is a creature I have heard of that can suck intellect from the mind, but they are not like wraiths, closer to a man with a cephalopod head."

"Oh joy, sounds fun," Harry said. The Doll was glad she had learned to discern sarcastic tones, as that had gotten her into trouble in the past. "Still…maybe you'd like to tell your story?"

"I apologise, but my story is nowhere near as interesting or incident-filled as your own. In truth, I envy you for your friends. For all the…incidents where your friendship was tested, Ron and Hermione sound like good friends."

Harry nodded, but his expression turned morose. "…And if I really am on another world, how am I going to see them again?"

"You were brought here. It is possible you can go back."

"But if it really was a Great One who brought me here…ugh, never mind. I shouldn't really think about that. It'll eat me up too much. If Voldemort did run afoul of a Great One, then he's dead, or wishing he was."

"That is true. Great Ones are not invincible, but ordinary humans cannot stand up to them."

"…What do you mean, not invincible?"

"The Hunters of Byrgenwerth have killed at least two Great Ones before. However, Gehrman never elaborated to me on the matter. It's a rather painful memory, apparently."

"And you can't leave the Dream?"

"I only exist here, Harry. I am physically real, but only in the Hunter's Dream. If I were to leave, I would dissipate like mist on the wind. Only in another dream world would I be able to retain this form."

"…It's not fair."

"Life, from what I have gathered from those who are bound to the Dream, seldom is. You yourself said you had been framed for the murder of Cedric Diggory, and many turned on you for circumstances beyond your control. Indeed, I would be interested in knowing how to speak to snakes, and yet, they shunned you for it. Life appears to be without fairness. It does not mean that fairness is without meaning, I would think. Indeed, fairness, morality and altruism are precious jewels in a world sorely lacking them."

She noticed that he subsided into thoughtful silence at that. Eventually, he said, "That philosophy's at least better than Voldemort's. When we first met, I mean properly, he claimed that there was no good or evil, just power and those too weak to seek it."

"Power is indeed something to be desired, but to protect, not to dominate or destroy. It is why, when a Hunter is bound to the Dream, I channel the Blood Echoes from their fallen foes into their body, strengthening them. Whatever process brought me to life gave me that power."

"Blood Echoes?"

"Lingering echoes from the will of the slain, permeating their spilled blood," the Doll explained.

"…Glad nobody else from home is here, they'd see it as dark magic, I'm sure," Harry muttered.

"Perhaps it is. But strengthening the Hunters in this way is the only way to give them a chance against the beasts, and the monstrous underlings of the Great Ones. Making them more than human is the only way for them to prevail against the inhuman. That, and tying them to the Dream. If they perish, then they revive, and are able to continue anew, until their duty is done. And the best ones do not need that tether."

"…Dying over and over again…I'd go mad," Harry muttered.

"Oh, at least one Hunter did," the Doll said, thinking back to one in particular. "He went quite mad, and began muttering strange terms under his breath, something about me being a 'waifu', and muttering to himself, 'git gud, you filthy casual' or 'spin to win'. I must confess to being baffled. A later Hunter told me that he was confined to an asylum afterwards."

"…I'm not surprised." He then sat up. "…If I can leave the Dream…I'm not doing it forever, not if I can help it. I don't want to leave you with Gehrman. And if I find a way to get back home, then I'm not leaving you behind. Gehrman chose this. You didn't. I mean, I've only known you for a week, but you have been so kind to me. I mean, he didn't even give you a name, for God's sake!"

"I considered giving myself a name…but none fit me. It's as if I have a name already, and none others would fit. Gehrman doesn't wish to. If you wish, you may give me a name, try to see if something would fit."

He seemed a little taken aback, before he said, "I'll have to think about it…"

Harry still wasn't sure what to make of the Doll. She had to be one of the more emotionless people Harry had ever met. This didn't mean she was wholly emotionless, just that she mostly responded to things in a calm, stoic manner. She did show sudden bursts of emotion.

And yet, there was something endearing to her. This wasn't just because of her beauty, though that was indeed a major factor. She had an attitude that…well, you could call it childish or naïve or innocent, but Harry didn't believe it was any of those. She was intelligent and philosophical, but she viewed the world through a somewhat skewed lens. Given that she was the creation of a half-senile Hunter, and had lived with him in isolation for decades, that might have been a factor.

And yet, there was something…alien about her. Alien, and yet familiar, like there was something both inhuman and yet utterly human beneath that shell. Not alien in a bad way, but certainly a strange way. She was an enigma that he would like to unravel, which surprised him, as Hermione was usually the inquisitive one, intellectually, anyway.

Thinking about his friend, about his friends, filled Harry with a pang of sadness. He had no contact with them since being incarcerated. At best, he got a couple of visits from Dumbledore, visits which he barely remembered thanks to the Dementors. Why hadn't he tried to get Harry out of Azkaban? He was Dumbledore, for fuck's sake! It was a regular bitter refrain he had thought when he was suffering as Micolash's toy.

Anyway, the Doll was the first person in a very long time to treat him with any kindness, since he was tossed into Azkaban. Okay, Gehrman, once he had learned Harry was human, showed him some kindness and even contrition, and Harry couldn't help but be wary, given how he was betrayed and thrown into Azkaban by the very people who once lauded him as a hero. But the Doll seemed to have little deceit or pretension within her. It didn't mean it was there, and he had the feeling she was hiding things, like Gehrman was, but on the whole, she otherwise seemed fairly decent.

After his conversation with the Doll, he had wandered back into the Workshop, navigating the perilously stacked books. He looked at the weapons arrayed on the wall above a workbench. Some of them looked vicious, others elegant. One of them, he reached up and took off the wall, and realised, startled, that it was too light to be made of metal. It was painted wood. It was like two blades, a shortsword and what looked like a katana, joined together at the handle, elegant, and…

"Put that back, will you?" rasped the querulous voice of Gehrman.

Harry saw the man wheeling himself in, looking irritated, and he put it back. "Sorry, I was curious."

"And you know what curiosity killed," Gehrman said. "Sorry, it's…that one held some sentimental value. I carved it and painted it myself, a replica of a weapon one of my old students favoured. Maria…she came from Cainhurst," he continued, wheeling himself towards the wall, and looking at the weapons. "Many weapons from that forsaken place were designed and, originally, forged by a blacksmith from the East, and these weapons were named in his tongue. You were handling Rakuyo, the Falling Leaf."

"…That sounds Japanese."

"In your world, it probably is. The original weapon was lost. I actually taught a Hunter from the East, Yamamura. But Cainhurst…for all that they created excellent weapons, they were also obsessed with form over function. Their own Hunters, for the most part, even considered the remains of the beasts they slew to be 'decadent art'." Gehrman sneered. "The way of killing monsters may be an art, but it is not the sort you'd show in a damned gallery! Not unless you want the nobles watching on to lose their lunches!"

"…That's messed up," Harry remarked.

"Almost everything about Cainhurst was messed up. I heard that the Executioners wiped out most of the Vilebloods. Some did flee, but others…" He harrumphed. "There are many blights on the world, but most of them have the good decency to at least hide what they are. Pray that the Hunt never finds you, Harry. The night is dark, and filled with terrors, after all."

"So's the day. They just hide better," Harry snarked.

Gehrman cackled softly. "True, that. Some of the worst horrors in the world are in fine clothes or elegant makeup, hiding behind a mask of humanity. Micolash, for example…I knew he was ambitious, even a little touched, but…using a ritual to rip the School of Mensis into a dream world…it sounds hypocritical, coming from me, but he must've been more monstrous than I had thought. As for beseeching Kos for eyes, he'll never get them."

"Yeah, he wanted eyes in his brain. I mean, I don't get it."

"I do. Willem believed that, in order to approach anywhere near the level of the Great Ones, humanity needed more eyes. Metaphorical ones, on the inside, to gain insight into the workings of the cosmos. Laurence may have been a fool, and so was Micolash, but Willem was as great a one, even if his folly extended in a different direction. Almost everyone at Byrgenwerth at the time were, even myself."

"And this Vacuous Rom?"

"…A Byrgenwerth researcher whom Kos turned into a pseudo-Great One. Now she sits, an almighty idiot, somewhere near Byrgenwerth," Gehrman said. "And while it is good to have an inquisitive mind, Harry…mind it does not lead you to madness."

"I had to deal with Dementors and Micolash's bollocks for a few years," Harry said flatly. "I'm probably already half-mad…"

CHAPTER 3 ANNOTATIONS:

So, some Harry/Doll fluff, and Harry learning a little more about the world he's ended up in…

Review-answering time! bradw316: Sadly, I am yet to watch Cowboy Bebop. I have got the DVDs of the TV series, but I have so many series to watch, and it's a touch down on the priority list.

DALucifer13: I generally stick to fanfics on this website, but I can certainly recommend a number of them for you and other readers. While I mentioned a number of them in my foreword, it's a list that bears repeating, along with some additions…

Red Yharnam and A Cainhurst Sojourn by Onceuponalime226: The former story is a what if story, namely, what if Lady Maria, instead of being drawn into the Hunter's Nightmare, ended up waking up as the Good Hunter? The latter is a companion piece, set between a couple of the chapters, with Maria, Alfred, and an OC venturing to Cainhurst to investigate matters there. Both do fairly well in expanding on Maria's past and how she was affected by the events of the Fishing Hamlet pogrom.

The Origin of Dreams by ASouffleToServeTwo: While getting a number of points about Bloodborne's admittedly vague lore wrong (like Rom being male instead of female, as she was in canon, and depicting Maria as having a sexual relationship with Gehrman, something the game denies, as lore states that she was unaware of his 'mania', as it puts it), this fic is actually a good prequel to the game, exploring how Laurence broke away from Byrgenwerth, how the Healing Church rose, and how events led to those in the game. I admit, I took a notion from this fic for my own, that Paarl used to be one of Archibald's assistants.

The Last Crow of Yharnam, Acts I-III by Optimum Ace: Basically a Hunter/Maria set of stories. Incomplete, as of Act III, but we can hope, right?

A Night of Impossibilities by StoneTimeKeeper: A slightly cracky oneshot, involving a somewhat irreverent Hunter, albeit one with more than a little trauma in his past. The humour mixes in fairly well with the pathos and the horror.

The Bloodstained Hero by ThatOnePsycho: A My Hero Academia crossover, and an enjoyable one, where Izuku is a post-game Good Hunter.

Rabbit of the Moon by Born of Prayers: A crossover with Is It Wrong to Try to Pick Up Girls in a Dungeon?, and a good one at that. Very like The Bloodstained Hero in premise, only with Bell instead of Izuku.

The Hunter by Arawn D Draven: A one-shot crossover with The Familiar of Zero. Rather dark, considering what happened to Louise, but still excellent, and as Arawn D Draven is my habitual and long-suffering sounding board, it deserves more love.

Harry Potter and the Nightmare Newborn by shabbacabba: An excellent Potterverse crossover set during Year 4, and one of the better ones, expanding on whether Yharnam has a relationship to the Earth as we know it.

Touched by the Arcane by lisbeth00: Another Potterverse crossover, but this one set during Year 5, and with a female Harry who gets increasingly broken by her misadventures in Yharnam.

Oh, Merciful Hunter by Akallas von Aerok: A completed, if somewhat short, Potterverse crossover, where Dumbledore and the Order try to summon a missing Harry for the fight against Voldemort…only to get more than they bargained for.

A Hunter for Hogwarts by Baked The Author: A recent Potterverse crossover that, while in its early stages, is brilliant. Here, the Good Hunter is actually an ancestor of the Black family, and is understandably nettled at how far her family has fallen when she turns up a few centuries after her disappearance. While OC-centric stories are not normally my bag, you'll love Lenore Black.

Anderson Quest: Killing Vampires, Werewolves and Leprechauns by Tricia: I don't usually look away from this website for fanfics, but I heard about this one on Sufficient Velocity, thanks to TV Tropes. I have to admit, it was a romp. Sure, it was a pain scrolling past all the posts to get to the story stuff, but really, if you want to see Alexander Anderson from Hellsing (specifically Team Four Star's Hellsing Ultimate Abridged) dropped into Yharnam, well, it's worth a shot.

No numbered annotations this time.