UPDATE: 02/07/21.
To any new readers, welcome, I hope you enjoy my esoteric crossover.
And to my current Readers, welcome back, as I had stated previously, the story has undergone a restructuring for better flow and the next chapter has been woven amongst the others. I ask that current followers take some time to re-read.
The content of the chapters is still mostly the same, with only a bit of restructuring here and there.
Enjoy.
Harry Potter: Djinn Awakened
Harry Potter/Wishmaster/Lucifer Crossover
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling. The Wishmaster belongs to the Writers/Producers that made it. Lucifer now belongs to Netflix because Fox doesn't like money for some reason.
Everything else has come from my mind and some hard research on every other aspect of the story.
Summery
In order to save Harry from his fate, Lily uses a wish from a Djinn to save him. A wish that will have repercussions for Harry. Now, as his fifth year closes, he must learn to control his new and dangerous powers. Making new friends while dodging new and old enemies, he will learn secrets lost in time, a millennia old war where the lines of good and evil were blurred, and become entwined in another fate and prophecy that will echo across dimensions.
Post fifth year, Slash, Creature Harry, Detailed theories of magic, Powerful Harry.
Prologue
~~ September 30th, 1981, Department of Mysteries ~~
Heart racing, Lily Potter ran down the dark and deserted corridors of the Department of Mysteries, mindful of the voice echoing in her head.
Wherever you run child, know I can find you,' the voice called in her mind.
Stopping short in the Veil Room, she took a moment to catch her breath and call out to her invisible tormentor.
"Show yourself then if you know where I am," she called defiantly into the darkness. "You want my wishes? Come forth and grant them!"
Waiting for his appearance, Lily reflected on what she had released.
And how she planned to end the horror bound to her.
~~ Two months earlier, Godrics Hollow ~~
She had just finished putting Harry to bed after a lovely little get-together for his first birthday.
The thought of that awful prophecy looming over her son, casting doubt about his future, sat heavy in her mind.
"There has to be more that I can do to save him," she thought.
Lily was such a bright witch, one of the brightest to pass through Hogwarts in a while, and it was why she was recruited as an Unspeakable almost right out of school.
The avenues of research open to her were many, and she had assisted on various projects while working in the Department.
After that prophecy cursed her son, she had spoken to some of her contacts in Sudan and they had given her information on the holy rituals that summoned the Divine Ones.
They had warned her it would not be easy, but one month later, she had successfully invoked the divine presence of a Celestial being.
Little good that it did her….
"We cannot interfere with the affairs of mortals, let alone one with an active prophecy".
…Blinking back tears, she rubbed them from her eyes and took a deep, steadying breath and let it out slowly.
"Knut for your thoughts?"
Lily smiled at the sound of her husband's voice.
"I don't know what to do James, even the best Old Magic I can cast can't help Harry," she turned and her husband a grim smile.
James went to her and softly kissed her forehead, holding her gently by the arms.
"Voldemort can do his worst, you'll think of a way around it, Angels be damned if you don't."
Her smile softened, and she hugged him, burying her nose in his chest and breathing in his scent.
"I can make you a cuppa?" James asked.
Lily laughed softly as to not wake Harry.
"That sounds good," she replied.
"Lavender with a spoon of honey?" James probed, despite already knowing the answer.
"That's perfect," Lily beamed at James, relishing in the fact she can rely on him to soothe her fears, even for a short time.
"I just wish I could do more," James told her as he left to steep the petals in the hot water.
"I wish indeed," Lily muttered under her breath.
A dangerous, but daring, idea forming in her mind.
Looking at her sleeping son, she gave voice to her idea to steeled her resolve
"If an angel can't grand my wish, there are other beings who are willing to do so."
Naturally, finding any rituals to summon a creature so abhorrent by wizard-kind would not be an easy task, and there wasn't anyone she could trust to help in the task. She believed the International Confederation of Wizards kept such details but accessing them was beyond her.
However, using an alias, Rose Emberson which she had created upon joining the Unspeakables, she put out feelers for any research or materials that could help her without attracting the attention of the ICW.
One month later she received several historical records and books containing the sparse knowledge about the subjects of her quest. One small package contained a notebook and a small trinket box, there was a note attached saying just two words, 'good luck,' and was signed with the initials 'P.L.'
Opening the box revealed the very thing she was after, a blood-red fire opal.
This was not just any gemstone though; this was specifically a Stone of the Secret Fire.
Such a simple plan.
Her newfound knowledge revealed that the Veil within the Department was a Gateway to the Void Between Worlds, and she had planned on using it the banish the creature back there, but the
Death and destruction it wrought upon people proved greater than she had anticipated, and the pain it could inflict on its Waker was worse than a Crucio.
Still, she had to persevere and see this through.
Walking down the steps to the dais where the Veil sat, Lily turn as she heard her tormentor approach.
Standing before her, tentacle-like horns sprouting from its head, with yellow-green skin and eyes brimming with an ancient malevolence, was the Djinn, a being that would stop at nothing to release its kind upon the world and enslave humanity.
"So, child, you draw me here intending to deceive me?" the Djinn growled in amusement, eyeing the Veil. "I am older than time itself. A mere mortal cannot hope to win against me, even one in possession of the earthen magic."
"I'm smarter than you think, and I will never bow to one such as you," Lily's voice held steady despite the terror she felt. "I know the laws you are bound to. I have my wishes."
"Then wish. Carefully," he growled, baring the fire opal in his hand.
The Djinns eyes bore into Lily, daring her to slip up on her wishes so it could open the doorway.
She closed her eyes and went over her plan, knowing she'd have to be careful with all three wishes to undo the damage the Djinn had inflicted, protect Harry and banish the creature.
"For my first wish, I want you to reverse all the death and destruction you have caused since you were released. Right now."
The Djinn narrowed its eyes as it begrudgingly accepted the wish.
"Clever child, very clever. But you are only delaying the inevitable. I will gather more souls to power the doorway. You have only bought a bit of time".
'More than I need,' Lily thought.
She watched as the Gem glowed a blood-red, and the souls were released.
In her mind's eye, she could see and feel everything being undone.
Unknowing to her, a statue of an angel wielding a sword glowed a faint blue which increased in intensity until, with a great flash, it was replaced by the figure of a man.
She heaved a sigh and closed her eyes again; the second wish was the most important.
"For my second wish, I must first give you some context pertaining to it."
He leered at her intently and replied, "Very well, I will humour your request." The mocking in his tone was more than evident.
She took a steadying breath. "My son, Harry. He means everything to me in this world. But he is part of a prophecy that makes him a target of a Dark Lord, Voldemort. It could be another child, but Voldemort has been fixated on us more. Harry is a half-blood like Voldemort and for this reason, I believe he has been marked."
The Djinn contemplated her words.
"Tell me of this prophecy."
Lily narrowed her eyes. "I don't think you need to know the wording of it."
"On the contrary human. Am I to understand that you want your precious son Harry to be protected from Death? Be it be mortal or magical means?" Lily didn't reply, but the look on her face was all the answer the Djinn needed. "Understand this, Prophecies are fickle, insidious things, tempting you with ideas of the future, but without clear meaning. If I am to save your son from harm, I will need to know what shape that harm may take."
She took a moment to think but had to admit he had a point. The precise wording of the prophecy may be crucial in saving Harry. "Very well," she looked into his cold, curious eyes and recited the words spoken by Trelawney.
"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..."
Tears fell from her eyes as she recalled the moment those words were burned into her memory, the revelation that her child could have so little time on this world, forever hunted.
The Djinn, instead of mocking her apparent weakness, was strangely silent, turning and twisting over the wording in his mind.
She didn't know it but, the Djinn was making plans of his own, for he knew what the veil was and what it could do if used correctly.
"Well? Does the wording of the prophecy alter anything?" She addressed the Djinn after composing herself.
"Indeed. Allow me to give you some context of my own, free of charge of course," the Djinn added with a sharp smile, at Lily's narrowed eyes.
She nodded in acceptance.
"These Unforgivable Curses, as you call them, were born of a wish many centuries ago. To use them the castor must wish for the effect to happen with all the hatred they can muster. This allows them to pull our race's magic through their soul. Your Dark Lord is fond of the Killing Curse. And as such can't be blocked by a wish alone, something more is required."
"What else is needed?" Lily could feel her desperation welling up at the Djinns words but tried not to tip her hand.
It was pointless.
He smirked, sensing her distress, and continued, briefly glancing again at the archway behind her.
"For your son to be spared from death, an additional sacrifice is needed. Yours to be precise." He let his words sink in, for a moment before speaking again. "To give him the protection you desire, your life must be given in order to make it work against magics born of my kind."
She looked at him with a careful expression. "Can you explain further? How is this protection to work?"
They were both regarding the other now, a word game of cat and mouse playing out between them.
"Very well, I'll give you a little lesson on my power. Upon waking me, a bond forms between our souls, as you make wishes a transference of power takes place between our souls. This effectively makes you immortal against everything except divine weapons. This protection can be extended to cover Harry if you so wish it."
Lily had an uneasy feeling about the idea of this Djinn binding his power into her son in such a more invasive way, but could not see an alternative, and she didn't have time to research more. Steeling herself while going over her words once more in her mind, she made her second wish.
"I wish for my son, Harry, to be protected from death, effective immediately, with the understanding that upon my death, your power will protect him from the Killing Curse."
The Djinn gave a low, dark chuckle. "Granted, with the provision that full protection will occur upon your death."
The Djinn took the gem in both hands, and the red light overcame it again though, this time, it enveloped him and Lily.
A small shockwave of energy pulsed out of the gem and all was still.
"Now, we come to the third and final wish. Take a moment to think while I… set the mood."
Spreading his arms, he slowly walked closer to Lily.
The air grew heavy in the Veil Room and the walls, once solid and grey, glowed with a red tinge and start rippling grotesquely with humanoid forms moving under the surface.
"Oh, God." She stared with a sense of doom at the sight around her.
"Soon, I shall be your god once again." She gasped and went still as the Djinn spoke from directly from behind her.
"Make. Your. Wish." He enunciated sharply in her ear.
Lily turned and stared into his eyes, finally smiling at him.
She knew what her final wish was and hoped it was correct.
"I wish you to speak the words to activate the doorway behind me."
He looked at her with all the malevolence he could muster and the words were torn from his throat with a guttural growl.
"Panto Panto, Ka Batal. Candak Deui Djinn Anjeun."
Upon his final word, the Veil's wispy, smoke-like curtain started to swirl with white light, paralyzing the Djinn.
As his form started to disperse into the vortex, he gave her a calm smile and it unnerved her to her core.
"Well played Lily-child, you are indeed clever but, as previously stated, I am eternal, did you not think I knew what the Veil was?" he told her.
"Take heed, our kind will reclaim the earth as ours once more." His smile became more sinister. "Your second wish all but guarantees it."
With those final ominous words, he fully disappeared into the Veil, leaving only a fire opal on the ground, and a mother wondering if she made a mistake.
~~ October 20th, 1981, Godrics Hollow ~~
She was to cast the final incantation of the Fidelius in four days.
Dumbledore was laying the foundations for it now.
The danger had become too great.
Their latest intelligence from the Order suggested that Voldemort was actively seeking Harry over
Alice and Frank's son.
Lily had other things on her mind, though.
The events of a few weeks prior were still ingrained into her mind.
She had been doing more research since then. Even going as far as to going to her contacts in the Middle East directly.
What she learnt from reading between the lines of the small scraps of knowledge disturbed her.
She believed the Djinn Magic within Harry's system would grow with him and merge with his magic until he reached his magical maturity. As she understood it, the magic would become active at this time.
From there she had no idea what would happen, there just wasn't enough information. So, she did what any loving mother would do in this situation.
She would prepare.
If she couldn't be there to help him, she would make damn sure to leave him as much help as she could for once she was gone.
She opened a vault in Gringotts containing all the information she had, a crystal with a recorded message, and the Stone of the Secret Fire she had been studying.
Not knowing when the Djinn's power would manifest, she wove a charm between Harry and a talisman to alert their account manager when her son reached his maturity. This would let them know to contact Harry to let him in the vault.
Lily only hoped it was enough as she left Gringotts to head back home, almost colliding with another wizard on his way into the bank.
~~ October 24th, 1981, Godrics Hollow ~~
Dumbledore had just left, having handed the control of the charm to Lily so she could link it to their secret keeper.
Lily and James stood in their living room with Sirius Black.
"Are you sure this is the best plan, Sirius?" Lily asked, going over the charm's instructions for the tenth time.
"Lils, it's the perfect bluff. Everyone knows I'd be the best choice for your secret keeper. No one in their right mind would suspect who we're going with," Sirius replied.
James encircled her from behind in a hug and whispered to her, "We agreed it is the best course for everyone's safety, The plan is foolproof."
"What time will he get here?" she asked.
Just as she uttered those words, the flames in the fireplace turned a brilliant green as another of their friends, Peter Pettigrew stepped out of the grate.
"Speak of the devil," Sirius jokingly said as he went to embrace the smaller man.
"Hey Peter, are you well?" Lily asked.
"I'm not gonna lie, this plan makes me nervous. But I will do everything in my power to protect the secret."
Lily still felt uneasy but attributed it to the other thing on her mind.
"Okay Peter, please, step into the circle," she indicated a circle of glowing runes drawn into the floor.
As the pressure of the spell settled on Peter, Lily began connecting the 6 points of the circle to his forehead and gradually a seventh rune took form there.
As the last rune connected to the one on his head, the secret melted into his mind and the house folded out of existence. Opening his eyes, Peter looked on as his friends gazed around in confusion.
"Oh right," he recited the phrase needed to give them the secret "The Potters Reside In Godric's Hollow."
They blinked as if suddenly waking up.
"Well then, that's certainly done the trick," Sirius smiled at everyone.
"What's next?" Peter asked, getting used to the small pressure at the back of his mind.
James clasped Peter's shoulder, "You carry on as normal. Sirius will go into hiding. Lily and I will sequester ourselves and plan with Dumbledore from here".
Peter nodded. "In that case, I best be off. I have a late shift at the Owl Office in an hour."
Lily smiled at Peter and hugged him "Thank you for doing this, it means a lot to us."
"Anything to protect my friends, Lily" He looked away as he said this, seemingly shy about the whole thing.
In reality, it was the immense guilt he felt at what he was about to do.
He took some Floo powder and activated the network, calling out the address for his home.
He had a message to send.
~~ October 31st, 1981, Godrics Hollow ~~
Harry's laughter as he floated the Every-Flavour Beans above his head warmed the hearts of his parents, who were marvelling at his controlled display of wandless magic.
"He's gonna be amazing when he grows up Lils, just you wait," James said, looking at his wife.
Lily smiled from her place on the chair as she watched them play.
A small chime started going off on the mantle, linked to a perimeter charm set earlier in the week.
They tensed.
"Probably that squirrel again, Lils. I'll go look."
James left to go check the front while Lily got Harry into her arms intending to take him for his bath.
"Lily! Take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!"
The blood drained from her face as she realized what that meant.
Peter had betrayed them.
She ran up the stairs with Harry in her arms, shutting them in his bedroom.
This was it.
The moment she planned for.
Lily heard the cold laughter from downstairs and a tear fell.
She knew her husband was gone.
Waiting for the inevitable, Lily shielded the crib containing Harry from the door with her body.
One by one, the defences fell and the door silently swung open, revealing the Dark Lord on the threshold.
"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry"
"Stand aside, you silly girl…stand aside now!"
"Not Harry, please no. Take me, kill me instead," Lily continued to plead. "Not Harry, please….
Have mercy… have mercy."
They both knew it might as well have been a joke.
There was no mercy in Lord Voldemort.
Laughing, Voldemort pointed his wand at Lily and cast his spell.
"Avada Kedavra!"
The rush of green death shot towards Lily, and she closed her eyes, gladly accepting it.
'I do this for you my son, be strong, remain pure' she thought as the green light faded leaving her lifeless body on the floor.
As the life left her body, something much more subtle - older, powerful - transferred to Harry's body.
And altogether more sinister than the fiend left standing in the room.
"Well, you must be powerful to threaten my might," Voldemort chuckled condescendingly, "oh well."
Pointing his wand and casting the Killing Curse again, he watched with, at first, disinterest as it hit and surround his victim, and then with muted shock, as the curse reflected onto him destroying his body, the power so great it even blew the room apart and ruptured the Fidelius charm.
As the dust started to settle, so too did the Djinn's power settle within Harry.
Giving him a nigh impenetrable level of protection from almost anything.
There it would sit and fester, undetectable till such a time when it could fully mature.
Of course, there was a second power that had transferred over, one that would interrupt the Djinns plans and set the fate of everything in the hands of a small child with a lightning bolt scar.
~~ September 30th, 1981, St Martin-in-the-Fields Church, London ~~
He could feel it.
The first wish had been granted to a Waker.
He was needed.
Magic flowed through his stone body as it slowly shifted to become flesh, and he stood, breathing in the cool air of the church.
He let another build-up of magic gather within his mind, and let it pulse out in all directions, containing a simple message for the rest of his kind, 'I have answered the call.'
Closing his eyes, a tear escaped, rolling down his cheek.
He had briefly woken a few times to take stock of the world, but this was the first time he had been close enough to a Djinn awakening to respond, and he did not relish the necessity of killing an innocent, vowing that, if at all possible, to do what he could to dispatch the Djinn without killing the Waker.
Though he knew the finer points of combat, he was no fighter.
Certainly not a murderer.
He hopped off the statue base and headed for the door, pausing a moment at a mirror as he looked himself over.
His warm brown eyes took in his attire, the long black tunic, boots, and sword more than likely would look out of place in the current time, he could only hope that the fashion hadn't changed too much in the last hundred years since he last woke.
With a thought, the tunic shifted to resemble a knee-length coat covering black trousers and shoes, a grey waistcoat and white undershirt completed basics.
Tilting his head and eyeing the outfit, a short green silk neck scarf materialized around his neck, an ascot.
The sword, while common for an angel, would only cause panic among the humans and so he changed it to resemble a black stick - the churchgoers called it a cane.
Stepping outside, he set off in the direction he could feel the Waker, the steady, continuous pulses of energy helping to guide him as he moved with all the speed his immortal body could muster.
The world had changed much since he last woke, and it was clear that the humans had advanced much faster than he would have thought possible, especially with everything that had happened in their long history.
Despite that advancement, there was strong magic still in the world, and some of it was centred around a red box made of metal and glass.
The hunter knelt and placed his hand on the ground to get a deeper sense of the magic at work and realised the Waker was underground and outside normal space.
'They had learnt to fold the space around themselves, impressive,' he did wonder, why, but after taking another look around he realized, 'They are in hiding from their non-magical brethren?' He shook his head in sadness at how times had changed in only a few hundred years.
He reached into his coat took out a Harmoniser Ring to aid him in teleporting past the magic.
It was a handy item, developed by the Saint mages to allow his kind access to the earth magic, harmonising it with their own.
The second wish had been granted while he had travelled, and much to his distress, the third took place as he was trying to open a hole in the protection magic guarding his destination.
After several minutes that felt like an eternity, a blue column of light engulfed him, and he shifted the cane back into a sword to appear…
...in a large room resembling an amphitheatre, dark and empty, with a raised dais holding an archway.
No Waker.
No Djinn.
Forlorn, he collapsed to the floor as the urgency left him.
'How!' he thought, he cast his eye about searching for the Waker but found no one.
However faintly, though, he could still feel the Waker, like the whisper of vibration in the air instead of the steady pulse he felt before.
Composing himself, he took stock and looked around fully, finally recognizing the archway for what it was.
"A Celestial Gateway," he gasped in wonder. "I would not think any more had survived."
Dozens had been built toward to end of the Divine War to cast the Djinn from Earth into the Void, besides the one encountered in Egypt, he had thought them all destroyed or lost through the decay of time.
'The Waker must have found out how to use it to banish the Djinn, clever,' he mused as he examined the relic from a more ancient age.
The faint runes lit up softly as he waved his hand in a specific pattern along the rightmost edge, bringing the archway from an idle state to fully off, the veil disappearing from the centre.
Satisfied, he crouched on the inner side of the column and repeated a different pattern.
The grinding of stone moving against stone filled his ears as a panel slid out from the column, the flat surface covered in an array of runes and small crystals and he spent a few moments moving the crystals about the panel, different runes lighting up as he went.
The archway logged everything that went through it, he just needed to find the right combination.
"Got it."
A blue mist filled the arch where the veil once hovered, small white ghostly figures hung suspended in the mist, including the figure of the Djinn, in red, who was shown as going through last.
'Why am I still sensing a trace of energy, though?' he wondered. 'It should have dissipated with the banishment.'
He reset the arch back to what it once was, after all, if the magical humans wanted to use it to send people to limbo, who was he to stop them.
They probably had enough reason.
He stood in front of the gateway, trying to get a clearer sense of things.
The Djinn's connection with the Waker should have dissipated moments after its banishment, be he could still feel the strange vibration in the air….
He sat in quiet contemplation back in the church, weighing his options.
By rights, he should go back to sleep and wait for some sign of the Djinn's reappearance, but his instincts disagreed.
Briefly, he had thought to summon one of his siblings from the Celestial Plane but squashed that idea almost immediately.
The last time he had done, he had not gotten whom he had called for and was met somewhat stiffly.
Perhaps contacting his nearest brother on Earth? No, they would be just as clueless as he was.
Sighing, he removed a small walnut-sized blue crystal from his pocket and pushed his magic into it, a brief gentle glow resulted in the appearance of a mahogany music box next to him.
Running his hands over the smooth wood, he turned the key and opened the lid, revealing the cylinder and metal comb assembly which he wound up with a handle on the side.
The cylinder started to rotate, and a haunting melody started to play.
As the sounds of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata echoed through the church, he thought back to the last time he had woken and received it as a gift….
~~ Flashback, Springtime 1876, London ~~
The Victorian Era, as it was called was a far cry from the Elizabethan Era he had last woke up in.
Certainly, the clothes were better, gone were the neck ruffles and exaggerated finery, replaced by a more modest but elegant style of ascots, waistcoats, and top hats.
He'd been awake for almost four days now, the Industrial Revolution that had transpired was a marvel to be sure.
Admittedly he had seen a few technological leaps on various worlds in his multi-billion-year-old life, but nevertheless, the exciting feel of innovation was palatable.
He could only hope that they moved on to a cleaner source of energy at some point, and not rely on consumables too much, he'd seen worlds clog up with toxic gases before, and the stench was already a little stifling.
Whenever he woke, he had made a point of not mixing too much with the magical side of humans, cautious of his use of magic with them, and the last time he'd interacted with them was when Queen Elizabeth was on the throne.
It was getting late, and he'd exhausted most of the new material at the library and museums, so he left, intending to head back to the church to sleep again until he next woke, but this was not to be.
He ran around the corner of an alley, the sound of a woman pleading for help drew him closer.
She was there, surrounded by three rough-looking men, it was clear they intended to rob her at best or have their way with her at worst.
So, he did what came naturally to him - he knocked them all out, helped the lady home, and informed a constable of the men on the way.
She had thanked him profusely, and at her insistence, stayed the night.
In a separate room, of course.
He was a gentleman after all.
Her name was Adaline, and he had ended up staying with her for a time.
Her father indulged her creative and forward-thinking tendencies, not wanting to stifle her as seemed the custom for women in this age.
He had helped her in her scientific curiosities, her nature so reminding him of a close friend during the war.
Aryla too had a keen, agile mind and a powerful connection and understanding of magic.
She was the one who created the Harmonizing Rings and the Keepers' Orb and had even helped in the design of the Celestial Gateways.
Her bones would be dust now, knowledge of her lost to time.
Lost save for his memories and the memories of those immortals that remembered her, fractured as those memories were from the Cataclysm.
After three days, he took his leave of Adaline, accepting her gift of a music box she had restored, and returned to sleep.
~~ End Flashback ~~
The music box had ended its tune and he sat in the silence, it did not bring any comfort to him, and he was no closer now to deciding his course of action than he had been before his return to the church.
His mind gave him an answer, of course, but his emotions made the choice difficult.
Were he to stay and form attachments in his search for answers, eventually they would grow old and die, leaving him with another loss.
Though it took him some time to come to terms with the fact, he knew that one of the joys in life, even an immortal one, was those brief instances where two people shared a connection and were better off for it.
He touched his Keeper Orb to the music box, watched as it disappeared into the Orb, then stood.
For now, he would live and investigate more.
See what came along, and, if he happened to devise a better way to track the Djinn with more than just his sense, all the better.
He had gathered enough items in his Orb that could be considered 'valuable antiquities' and he knew of a few hidden locations where more valuables were kept. If he planned to remain awake for the near future, he'd need to set himself up with better lodging than a church. Afterwards, he'd need to catch up on the newest advancements, as humans had come far in a short period and it would look odd if he didn't have at least a passing knowledge of them.
Finally, he would need to research and connect with the magical world again, it was clear that the Djinn had woken amongst one of their kind.
'Another trip to the library is in order.'
He removed a pocket watch and checked the time. one-fifty in the morning would have most humans asleep so the gathering of information would have to wait until morning.
Removing his ring again from his pocket, he focused on the location of a small cache of relics from a more ancient era, hidden with divine magic due to their value.
He appeared in a small sandstone room underneath The Sphinx.
'No one will miss them,' he reasoned as a few dozen objects that could be considered 'valuable ancient artifacts' were quickly and unceremoniously stored in his orb.
He nodded to himself and then teleported back to the church.
The Grigori took one final look around his home for the past few hundred years and left, maybe for the last time.
The air was crisp, if somewhat stale from pollution, signifying autumn was in the air and the chiming of the large clock tower the humans called Big Ben told the hour had struck two.
He took out his pocket watch again and adjusted the dial to match the time as he stood by the low wall, and gazed out into the waters of the Thames and contemplated his future.
"Where's the time machine? Hope you've not brought any Morlocks with you."
He turned his head to look at the newcomer, who had stood next to him by the wall. He was a dark-skinned gentleman with little hair and unshaven stubble marring his face.
"I am sorry, I do not know of what you speak of."
The stranger indicated his attire with his hand. "If you've come forward in time, welcome to 1981. If you've come back, no spoilers. Though, with the way you talk, I'm thinking welcome?"
The Grigori considered the human in front of him and debated on what to do.
His clothing wasn't too dissimilar to what the man was wearing, but evidently, fashion had changed enough for him to stand out. He should have known.
"I thank you for the welcome, however, it is more of the case that I slept until this period, rather than travelled. What is a Morlock?"
He did not see the harm in being somewhat truthful, he could always alter the man's memories later if there was a need.
He laughed at that. "Not important. And I was joking about the time travel, but I'll play along. My mark didn't show so I've got time. Name's Jack, what's yours?"
'Mark? Did he miss an engagement with another?' He thought.
"My name is unpronounceable here, some of my brethren had names chosen for them. Though I was briefly referred to as She'd in ancient Egypt, I simply went by Hunter." He was not about to share his unfortunate moniker with the man, he did not think it would translate well.
The man, now known as Jack, nodded. "Not a chance in hell am I using Shed, Hunter is a perfectly acceptable name for someone to use so, we'll go with that for now."
Jack extended his hand which 'Hunter' shook.
"Now then, Hunter. We've established who you are, now for the why you're here?"
Hunter fiddled with his watch. "I awoke here to slay a being that also awoke to this world. A being of fire, now shrouded in darkness, but it was banished before I found it."
Jack nodded in understanding. "Yes, I know of this being you speak. Balrogs are as terrifying as they are powerful. Are you a servant of the Secret Fire?"
Hunter's eye grew wide. "I know of the Servants of the Secret Fire, but what of this Balrog? Is it a new abomination of the Djinn I do not know?"
Jack scratched his stubble. "Not sure what a Djinn is, but a Balrog is a beast of fire and shadow. You'll need to command the Flame of Anor or get hold of Gandalf to combat the beast."
Hunter felt like he was going in a circle somehow, but pressed on, wary of the fact there may be some other beast out there, summoned by the Djinn. "I do not have such a flame in my possession. Do you know of where I can find this Gandalf of whom you speak?"
Jack started chuckling openly now, much to Hunter's annoyance and confusion.
"Okay, okay. I'm not sure what role you're auditioning for, but I'm so on board for whatever film it is. Your method acting is fantastic."
'He thinks I am putting on airs like an actor, maybe a small demonstration is in order?'
Hunter thought about what to do to shock belief into Jack.
His Harmoniser Ring was still on his finger, so he waved it to conceal the area and let loose his wings, expanding them to their full length.
"Perhaps you view this as fantastic also? Or do you wish to jest more?"
Jack slowly shook his head, shock written on his face. "No jest. I've not got any references right now for angel wings. Though, there's a joke here about touching another guy's wings.
May I?"
Hunter nodded to Jack as the man ran a hand over the feathers. Ducking under to inspect them from behind and examining them as Hunter flexed and moved them about slowly as to not knock the annoying man over. As tempting as that may be.
"So, an angel huh?"
He retracted his wings and turned to face Jack.
"Once. My kind is known as Grigori, we are tasked with hunting down Djinn and protecting humans. Unlike angels, we possess a soul and free will."
"Uh-huh, and you said this Djinn thing, has already been banished? Why hang about then?"
Hunter sighed. "It is complicated, but I can only find the Djinn indirectly through the one that woke him. Though I have discovered he had been banished back to the void, the sense has not disappeared with him."
Realisation shone in Jack's eyes. "I get it. You're gonna kick back like 007 with a martini until the other shoe drops?"
"I did not understand any of that. Do all humans speak with metaphors in this time?"
"Not as much as I do, look, come back to mine and I'll do you a solid, help you out," Jack replied, looking sheepish.
"Is that a metaphor for granting me a favour?"
Jack smiled. "Yes, it is. And all it'll cost is a full explanation and maybe a bit of assistance from time to time."
Hunter raised an eyebrow. "What kind of assistance do you require?"
Jack put his hand on Hunter's shoulder and walked with him to the underground, explaining what a con artist was…
~~ St Katharine Docks, London ~~
After Hunter had marvelled at Tower Bridge, they had arrived at a building near the river, a short walk away.
"So, in essence, you employ trickery to liberate the ill-gotten gains of the wealthy, to give to the needy?"
"In essence, yeah," Jack replied as he let them into his building and turned on the lights.
"You have styled yourself as a modern-day Robin Hood," Hunter said as he looked around the living room.
"Exactly! Thank god there at least one pop culture reference you get. It doesn't bother you then? What with you being an angel and all. Whisky?"
"Grigori, not angel," he replied with a bit more force than intended and accepting the offered drink.
"What's the deal with that?" asked Jack as he sat on the armchair across from Hunter, placing the bottle of Balvenie on the table. "The difference, I mean? Sounds like there's a bit of a heated story there."
"There…is some animosity, I apologise for my tone. Angels have the willpower to the point of not going against The Creator. Grigori have true free will, I should start from the beginning." He sighed again. It was becoming a habit today. "By the grace of our Creator, whom you call God, we were all Angels, to begin with. Born from The Creator's Pure Light, the Djinn came after and were made from The Creators Pure Fire." Hunter swallowed the whisky in one go, appreciating the flavour as it burned down his throat. He refilled his glass and continued. "Things were great for a long while for the most part, having thousands of siblings can generate some friction after all. But after the Djinn created intelligent beings, The Creator blessed all life with a soul, and the Djinn took the threads of time and wove them into a single strand, bringing mortality to the universe."
Hunter stood and walked over to the window, gazing across the river as his mind gazed into the past.
"All life on different worlds was observed by a group of both Angels and Djinn. I was not on earth at the time; however, I did hear tell of your kind's command over the forces of creation, what you would call magic, it caused much talk."
"Wait, magic is real? All that staff waving spellcasting stuff in fantasy!" Jack had joined him over by the window now. "And were you in a galaxy far far away?"
Hunter looked at the man next to him. "No, I was in this galaxy, and yes, magic is real. It is a power that comes from the Pure Light of your soul, saturating those that have physically and mentally evolved to use it. Your kind was the first to develop control over magic. I heard that the Djinn here had guided your development to get this outcome, and later, revealed themselves to humans, thus breaking our non-interference rule. That means…"
"I know this, it's the prime directive," Jack interrupted Hunter. "The prohibition of interacting or interfering with a species less advanced than yours. But, what of the angels here? I take it they weren't happy about it."
Hunter nodded, please that Jack understood the rule "That is the sum of the rule, as for the angels on earth? My brother, Samael, was in charge at the time and allowed it. He was always a bit of a rebel, pushing the boundaries. The Creator found out and though curious, warned against any more large-scale tampering. The damage had been done though, and humans worshipped the Djinn. The Creator punished the Djinn for this."
"Back up a sec," Jack said. "It was always believed that God, The Creator, could see everything? How did he not step in earlier?"
Hunter smiled. "That is a slight misconception. When someone dies, the soul returns to The Creator's Heaven and thus, everything the soul knew, is also known to Them," he answered, not bothering to correct the pronoun and continued. "They can also directly come down to observe, though, that has never happened to my knowledge."
Jack nodded with understanding. "So, God, The Creator, mainly lives vicariously through us?" He downed his drink and they both went to sit again. "Sorry, you were saying the Djinn were punished?"
"Yes. All of them. Their powers over creation were bound, only ever able to use them for the service of the human they were tied to on Earth. This meant for the rest across the universe, they were powerless. At some point, years later, The Creator's wrath swept over everything, it almost tore the fabric of reality. The Djinn we were with perished on the spot and we were left with little recourse but to go back to The Silver City, where we lived. I chose instead to go to Earth, finding a battle had already transpired, destroying a great city in the process. The Djinn on Earth survived."
Hunter felt the pain of the loss that happened.
"Much has been forgotten about the war that followed, and I will explain why at the end. Lines were drawn, and our once brothers became enemies. We were all commanded to destroy the Djinn, but we had not the willpower to fight on the same level, they were too powerful, even with their powers bound as they were. So, The Creator had us reforged in the same Pure Fire that had made the Djinn strong. We became Grigori, and our willpower was our own."
"What happened with Samael and his lot on Earth?" Jack asked.
Hunter refilled his glass after downing what little he had left.
"Samael was always a favourite, much to Michaels' envy. He and those that had been with him were forgiven and made into Grigori as well. He fought of course. I always suspected his allegiance was with the Djinn, but I did not say anything. The war could have been avoided in my opinion, it was long and hard, the Djinn had become more violent throughout, succumbing to some malevolent darkness, and much of the civilisation on Earth was wiped out, but we were victorious if you can call that outcome a victory." Hunter's lip curled behind the glass. "Michael certainly thought so."
"What happened after?" Jack had poured his third and final glass, wanting to keep a clear enough head.
A haunted look overcame Hunter. "The Cataclysm. I do not know what was intended by it, but the Djinn had one more act to play. Every being, across every plane of existence had their memories of the war fractured, only fragments remained from the hundreds of years that the war lasted… But worse still, is what happened to your kind." Jack felt a chill of foreboding creep up his spine. "Everything on the planet, structures, lifeforms, both human and animal were…devolved I believe it the right word. Over a million years of evolution wiped out of existence, cities, culture, knowledge, all gone in the blink of an eye. The humans that were left, became little more than the monkeys they came from."
They both sat in silence, Jack, contemplating existence, and Greg wondering at the scope of power that would have been needed for such an event.
"Anyway," Hunter continued, shaking his head clear, "The only things to survive were us immortal beings and the things we had created. The Djinn that hadn't been killed during the war were banished to the Void Between Worlds. The Djinn leader vowed that they would reclaim the Earth again so some of the Grigori chose to stay on Earth while the rest returned to the Celestial Plane as Angels. I am unsure of Samael's fate."
"Sorry, but I call both bull and roast beef with a baked potato on that!" Jack exclaimed.
"I do not understand that metaphor."
"Well, if that's the truth then I'm sorry to say it's an over-exaggeration on The Creators part, and I think you agree from the way you talk. And as for your animosity with Angels? Sounds like Michaels an ass."
"I had gotten on well with most - Samael, Azrael. I even learnt much from Raphael as we shared similar interests. As for Michael, and those that were close to him? They were all arrogant and prideful. He had always been…formal if a bit rough with humans. To everyone else, he is a bastard, if you pardon my language. The only time I chose to summon someone from the Silver City for an update on circumstances, he came down instead to berate me for wasting his time. He looks down upon Grigori for staying on Earth. And yes, I never saw the sense in the war, it could have been avoided. The Djinn, our brothers, are now full of malice and only think of destruction and dominance. That is what brings me here and why I choose to remain awake. Something of the Djinn I was hunting persists, even if it is no longer here."
Jack drained the last of his whisky. "Okay then, you help me with a few of my cons, I'll help you with the Djinn hunting. Have you thought about getting yourself set up? Money? Identity? A job to help you in your task?"
"I had only gotten as far as money," Hunter replied sheepishly. "I have several items of antiquity I had hoped to trade for the coin of this age. I have not thought of the rest, what would you suggest?"
"Well, have no fear your fairy godmother is here," Jack said with a grin. "I'll take some of those items and trade them in for you, work my brand of bippity boppity boo-ya. I also know a guy who does good work, I can get you a new identity set up. I'd also suggest setting yourself up as an investigator, that way if you're tracking a lead relating to the Djinn you can say it's for a case."
"If you believe that is the best course, I can agree to it."
Hunter had realised that he was in a vastly different world from the one he remembered. He needed help and he knew it.
"We'll also need to come up with a full name, you can't just go by Hunter, and Shed is a big hell no. How about Djinn Hunter, we can alter it to Eugene Hunter?"
Hunter scrunched up his face. "That does not sound right."
Jack looked like he was thinking hard for a moment. "Hmm, neither does Angel Hunter." His eyes lit up. "I know, I know," he said excitedly, "Grigori, not Angel. How about Gregory Hunter? Sounds enough like Grigori?"
Hunter turned the name over in his head a few times before smiling. "Gregory Hunter sounds acceptable.
Jack smiled and stuck out his hand, "Well then, Gregory Hunter, I'm Jack Jonas Mallory, you can call me JJ."
Greg returned the smile and took the offered hand, "It is nice to meet you, JJ."
Jack had several spare rooms that were used on occasion by some of his associates, so Greg was moved into one of them.
The next day, Jack showed him how to work the television and left him with a pile of VHS tapes to 'acclimate' to the modern world while he took several Egyptian artifacts with him to trade.
This gave him a respectable sum of money, or 'a crapload' according to Jack.
Over the next week, Greg explored London further and used his new bank card to purchase books and clothing, along with basic necessities.
As Jack said, "Just because you don't need to eat, sleep, or use the crapper, doesn't mean you should deprive yourself of what life has to offer, and look good while doing it."
Greg also took the time to seek out the magical side of London, eventually finding the hidden section of the London Library.
There, he discovered that due to the growing distrust from non-magical people, the wizards and witches chose to fully separate themselves and hide, though it gave no mention of how this was accomplished, save for a mention that an 'SFW Event' was declared.
He also read about the World Wars fought, including how the second was intertwine with Grindelwald, Goblin Rebellions, current alchemy practices, magical innovations, and back issues of their paper the Daily Prophet, detailing the current war.
He also took the time to learn the current runic and numerical languages, as they seemed more prevalent in many magical disciplines than they were in the past.
~~October 20th, 1981, Diagon Alley~~
Greg stood on the steps of a bank called Gringotts, situated in the heart of London's magical shopping area, Diagon Alley. Earlier, he had observed the comings and goings of the magic folk from a secluded corner, paying attention to what they were wearing, and mannerisms. And once confident, altered his clothing to match.
It had been over two weeks and the small vibration had not passed.
It was as if the world itself was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.
"I do beg your pardon," Greg said, startled.
In his distraction, he had bumped into a young, red-haired witch.
"My fault entirely," she replied over her shoulder as she hurried off.
'This will be interesting.' Greg thought as he entered the bank.
'So, these are the Goblins I have read about.' Greg mused as he observed the small beings that ran the bank.
He thought again on the possibility that the once strong beings previously known as Dwarflings, separated into two distinct races -Goblins and Dwarfs- the book he had read mentioned a war between them but never indicated it was a civil war.
"Next!"
There were few in the bank, no doubt the current war kept most at home, and Greg had decided that he might covertly intervene on the magical world's behalf, rules be damned.
"Yes, thank you," he said to the Goblin, "I would like to open a vault within your bank, and possibly trade some items that you may find valuable. I have muggle money in which to convert for the vault."
"Hmm, is that so? Fill out these forms and return them to me once done, you can leave the money here and I'll convert it for you. As for your items, take them over to the Hall of Services for appraisal."
Greg removed a suitcase full of money from his orb and handed it over to the Goblin, accepting the forms and a quill in return before moving over to a side table.
Filling it out was quick work and in place of a wand, he simply pressed his ring to the box marked for magical signature registration.
"I have the forms completed here," he said handing them back to the Goblin he'd spoken with.
The Goblin scrutinised the forms for a moment and then turned his gaze upon Greg.
'I am an immortal Grigori, how can such a small being make me feel nervous,' Greg chastised.
Satisfied, the Goblin nodded. "This is all in order. Take this pamphlet, it explains the monthly charges on the vault as well as the various upgrades you can purchase. This pouch has our standard expansion and security charms on it and contains a maximum amount of five hundred galleons. That leaves you with 3,516 galleons, one sickle, and two knuts in the vault."
"May I ask the value of each coin?" Greg asked
"You may not." The Goblin said coldly. "Direct your inane questions to the pamphlet. We're done here."
With that the Goblin placed a closed sign on the teller desk and hopped down from it, disappearing through a door behind with the suitcase.
'That was somewhat rude, if efficient. I believe I need to go to the Hall of Services next.'
Greg cast the Goblin from his mind and walked over to the archway that separated the Hall from the main foyer of the bank.
The Hall was a large circular room with deep recesses embedded in the wall. One contained several books for sale, another seemed to be used for intercontinental travel. The rest were dedicated to different crafts except one at the back with a sign indicating 'Appraisals'.
He turned his feet in that direction.
Despite the previous Goblin's rudeness, Greg remained polite, "Greetings, I was told that may get some items looked at over here to value them."
"I assure you I haven't the time to humour whatever trinkets you believe to be valuable. Go bother Skullhammer over there, his time is better spent than mine." The Goblin walked off after pointing to a cluttered recess that the Grigori had overlooked.
Greg felt a twitch of annoyance form on his eyebrow at the Goblin's curt dismissal.
'These Goblins are a sure test of even my patience,' he thought as he walked over to the unmarked recess, the area was cluttered with a multitude of telescopes, crystal globes, trucks, and furniture of different kinds.
"Hello? Skullhammer? I was directed over here by your colleague for an appraisal. I can leave them with you if you have not the time to do so right now."
There was a sound of something crashing from behind a pile of trunks and a yelp of pain, hearing this, Greg moved behind the counter to where the sound came from to find a Goblin caught under a heavy-looking table.
"Do you require any medical aid?" Greg asked as he gently but firmly lifted the table off the Goblin and help him stand.
"That's quite alright, wizard, Goblins are sturdy enough to stand the weight of a table, unlike the sturdiness of the table legs themselves."
Skullhammer gave a swift kick to the table, emphasising his point.
He adjusted his brown leather tunic and removed the set of goggles he was wearing before walking over to remove a bottle from a shelf, taking a swig straight from it.
"Care for some Goblin-made whisky, wizard?" Skullhammer asked, offering the bottle to Greg.
"Skullhammer! Dare you to offer a human our firewater you mentally blunt tunnel scraper!" the Appraisals Goblin yelled from his alcove.
"Jarnak! I share my homemade brew with whom I please boar-fucker!" Skullhammer thundered back.
"Ha! I wouldn't expect an obsessive anvil grinder to know where to stick his sword. You mother fucks goats!" Jarnak fired back.
"Speak of my mother, I'll cut out your tongue! I know very well how to get my sword polished, you iron slag! I hear your sows' sheath is so tight you can barely get your short sword in!" Skullhammer screamed.
"At least I have a sow! And don't call her that, I should run you through proper!" Jarnak replied.
"You promise blood but you deliver piss! Go back to your brass counting, I have a wizard to assist!"
Greg for his part stood in morbid fascination as both Goblins hurled insults back and forth.
Skullhammer turned back to him, speaking pleasantly, the vitriolic twist to his expression gone as though it had never been.
"Come into my backroom, wizard, I'll look at what you have."
The back room was the picture of organised chaos.
The walls held various tools on racks and chests containing different raw materials dotted the area.
Greg was taken over to a bench with a few rune-covered stone tablets on, which were quickly swept off by Skullhammer, smashing on the floor.
"Failed schemes from that table, you needn't worry over them," Skullhammer assured the Grigori. "Show me your wares, wizard."
Greg stood next to the Goblin and removed half a dozen items from his orb for inspection. Skullhammer's eyebrows rose a fraction, watching the Orb, but did not comment, choosing the look over the artefacts presented instead.
As polite as he was, wizards didn't take questions about their magic well.
While the Goblin worked, Greg occupied himself by looking around the workshop in more detail.
It was clear Skullhammer enjoyed crafting, and the runic arrays hanging on the wall appeared to be crude imitations at what passed for modern alchemy, something the Goblins should not be using if the history books were to be believed.
"Skullhammer, if I may? You may try using runes to produce a harmonic resonance. The counterpoint resonance your using is stronger, but needs constant adjustment for stability."
His knowledge of the subject spanned many millennia and a few different worlds.
Skullhammer paused, a look of intrigue and worry warred for attention on his face.
"I have no desire to inform anyone, you need not worry," Greg said to the Goblin, noticing his expression.
"I thank you for your discretion." He replied, relaxing. "Goblins are subject to heavy restrictions with regards to studying the art of alchemy." Skullhammer turned back to the table before him. "Your artefacts are highly valuable, not just because of their province, but how well they're preserved. It makes me wonder about the properties of that fascinating Orb you have for storage."
Greg knew Skullhammer had seen the orb, the Goblin was as observant as he was intelligent and skilled.
Greg had the beginnings of an idea.
"Skullhammer, I have a proposal for you. I trust you can keep a secret?"
"What do you take me for? A common Troll. State your proposal."
Greg launched into a short explanation of who and what he was, why he was here, and what he needed, more details could be explained at a later date.
The wings came out again as evidence to his claim, and, after a bit of shock, Skullhammer got practical.
"So, in trade for helping you design and build a method for tracking a Djinn, you provide materials and knowledge of alchemy from the ancient past and other… extra-planetary sources?" Skullhammer summed up, carefully contemplating the offer while trying to wrap his mind around the existence of life outside of Earth.
Greg nodded. "Is this something you can do? I would ask that you relocate to preserve secrecy."
The Goblin nodded. He was no fool and only a fool would pass up this opportunity.
"I will need you to cover my expenses and a decent underground space that I can set up. I'll also need access to whatever books that I may require for the task. Ah, and, I will be allowed to continue working on my own projects of which I will fund myself."
Greg smiled and held out his hand to shake, "Your terms are agreed. I will give you a week to sort your affairs here while I set up the workspace. If you require assistance in moving any of your items, I will be glad to help."
Skullhammer shook his hand.
'This is the beginning of yet another interesting partnership….' Greg thought to himself, wondering what the future may bring.
Jack took the information of his new resident better than Greg had expected, merely commenting that he felt like Saruman, hosting an Orc at Isengard and that Greg was fixing to build a fellowship. He still did not understand the reference but like the sound of the word.
At Greg's puzzled look, Jack had told him to read the novels he had been given.
He also made liberal use of his magic to clear and alter the space under the building for the Goblin's use, carefully altering the space to avoid disturbing the utility pipe present. A week later, Skullhammer moved into the building, adding one more to their 'fellowship.'
End of Prologue
