The Death's Raven
Important- There are slight changes in Chapter-2 where the line 'With the Ravens of Black, Dead would be the Man on whom those silvery eyes were flashed.' is changed into 'They were like boogeymen who hunted down people that Death wanted.'
Yo! Welcome back!
As I said in the previous chapter of Warrior's Way, the new chapter would be uploaded today. So, here it is.
We are reaching the end of first-year, maybe a chapter or two, and it will be finished without a doubt.
From the reviews I received, I am glad that you people are enjoying my work. Please do follow, favorite, and review, because it takes a lot of effort -on behalf of all the writers I am saying this- to write a single chapter.
Criticism is always welcomed by a writer, and it helps us to improve our work. So, review please if you find any flaws.
Anyways, enough of my rant, I don't own Harry Potter. It belongs to its owners.
Chapter-8: Fairness of Unfairness
'The world is unfair; but at the same time, it is completely fair.'
Having no problem in getting past the Cerberus, he looked at the metal trap where the challenges began.
The last few days were boring to say. For him, none of the classes could take away his boredom. He only attended those because Ashley pressured him to.
It was slightly confusing that he, the epitome of obnoxiousness and arrogance, was beaten by Ashley in stubbornness.
The girl was bloody persistent. Every time he would try a new spell or the potion, the girl would always be with him. She would give him a piece of advice… and sometimes they worked…. and a few times they didn't.
Needless to say, he was grateful for her company. Not many had tried to get to know him, and if they did, then they were not able to keep with him.
But she… she was different. She was smart, sweet, and beautiful and it certainly bewildered him why she was with him he knew not, but he was… content.
He was hanging with Terry Boot too, and with Megan but not as much he did with Ashley. Though he could tolerate the two, he enjoyed the company of Ashford Heiress.
It was not a surprising fact that he had acquired the first position in the exams, nor did it surprise him that Ashley came second. A girl named Hermione Granger obtained the third position.
He did not put his mind to the result, all he wanted was knowledge which, as of now, was very little for him. Perhaps, he could access the Potter Vault for Tomes and Books on Magic.
He was slightly impressed by how Wizarding Britain kept themselves hidden from the muggle world, so proficiently.
There were no traces of any magical interference in the Muggle world. Or any incident which could be defined as supernatural… or miracle.
The last magical incident was before the Statute of Secrecy, and that was before the era of the printing press and only a few people would know about it. Most of them would have died.
Though Merlin was certainly famous in Muggle fantasies and lore. It was just a myth… for them. All the manuscripts related to King Arthur or Merlin or the Knights of the Round Table had either been burned or confiscated by the Ministry of Magic.
Only a quarter of the Wizarding population was Muggleborns, and only a few muggles knew about their world.
He might sound prejudiced against muggle-borns, but muggle-borns should not be given much power in their world. They should be given their merit for their works but Wizarding World, especially Magical Britain, was governed by Sacred 28.
Allowing an outsider to vote was unignorable. The Magical Population should praise the work of a muggle-born but they should not let them change their views.
It was slightly hypocritical of him to say those words, considering the fact he was a son of a muggle-born and perhaps the brightest witch of her age, but it should be the way it is now.
Another thought made its way to his mind, he was going to celebrate Christmas… for the first time.
Though Ashley had invited him to stay with her, he had flatly denied it since he had already accepted the invitation from Tonk's family.
He was slightly annoyed and surprised at the same time. Surprised that he was so famous in Wizarding Britain. Annoyed, he had no time to make a reputation for himself.
But… he would. The dates for the Dueling Championship were set. August 2nd, 1992 in France, and the rest of the location, he ignored it.
He had to meet Professor Filius Flitwick for that matter.
According to some of the books he was reading to find that woman that had saved his life, he found the name of the Hogwarts Professor under the section dueling.
He was confused by the fact that a popular public face would be spending his late days in Hogwarts, teaching a bunch of brats as he called the students.
It baffled him that how a small creature not only (it would be unwise to call him a creature, but when did he care?) could win the whole tournament but dominate it for three years straight.
His doubts were cleared when he read about his fights.
The first time he participated in the Tournament, he lost miserably and was not able to make it to the quarter-final, losing in the second round.
But after two years, Filius Flitwick made a comeback. With his new, personal style, he dominated the league, and eventually won it. His last opponent was a guy from Japan, who was winning the tournament for two years straight.
The international dueling circuit was on fire, with the shocking news of a Half-goblin winning it.
When Flitwick first entered the dueling circuit, taunts and mockery were all he heard. But rather than minding them, he kept walking on his own with a serene smile.
He might have lost some battles and might have been harsh for him to lose the battles for which he had prepared immensely.
He focused on his next aim, not looking back at the past.
Shaking himself from his stupid stupor, he looked at the metal bars he had to unlock for moving forward in the traps.
He had suspected that it would be Philosopher's stone, and he had to find it for the sake of learning. He had to learn special charms for this task.
It was not his plan to come back and find the stone, but needless to say, curiosity was killing him from inside. Maybe he could blackmail Flamel by telling how he made the stone.
He had no desire of becoming immortal, and if he wanted to become, then he would figure it out himself rather than asking a 600 years old codger.
The possibilities were endless, and he was driven by these possibilities.
Mavis perched upon his shoulder, her black onyx looking exactly where he was staring. With a flick of his wand, the metal bars opened to reveal a dark pit without a shed of light.
He arched his eyebrows, what could be there. Dumbledore had clarified that anyone could die.
He deflated audibly. He had to take a risk if he had to proceed. He had to, and he would.
Without a second thought, he jumped into the dark abyss. He was expecting to be burnt, shred, frozen, but he landed on something… soft.
"CAW!" Mavis screeched as she detached herself from him, flying into the hollow space.
It was composed of a mass of soft, spring tendrils and possessed a sense of touch, and it looked like… flitterworm.
So, it was Devil's Snare- a magical plant that strangles one to death. The faster one's movements become the faster it tightens its grip around someone. He would have known it some time ago if he was Dean Thomas.
Mavis started pecking at the vines with her beak, causing very little damage. He sighed at how naive they were, he was expecting something more fierce.
His gaze followed Mavis as he motioned her to come near him. She humbly flew over him, sitting on his head, releasing, "Caw!"
'Incendio,' He thought to himself, focusing on the tip of his wand and imagining the fire coming out of it. It did, just the after.
The fire thrashed the vine, slowly but surely whipping and leaving only the chars of ashes. No sooner had it burnt away, he was dropped to the floor.
'Gravity works everywhere just fine.' He mused internally.
The floor was cold, he felt, as soon as his hand touched it. There was a lone hallway, which led to somewhere he could not see due to darkness.
Mavis again perched upon his shoulder.
Having no choice, he trotted across the hallways. Bringing his wand from his pocket, he thought, 'Lumos Maxima.'
The tip of the gray- almost black- wand lit up, and the hallway became illuminated with the shred of only light.
His heavy steps were all he was able to hear. The hallway was so silent that he was able to listen to his own cold breath, with the slight thumping sound of his heart. The silent noises that Mavis made were another thing.
The situation reminded him of an old horror movie he had once watched in the Orphanage, and while he had enjoyed it thoroughly, the same could not be said for other kids.
It was a few minutes later when he reached a passage of well-lit hallways with torches.
A strange fluttering noise was coming from behind the walls, but due to the intensity, he was not able to see anything.
With another wave the super-intense light died down, revealing the actual Hall. There were hundreds -if not thousands- fluttering objects flying. He grabbed the nearest one which was going in front of him.
It might have looked effortless, but it required the precision that Harry had, due to his daily dueling practice. "Key," he muttered as he scrutinized it in front of him.
The door was in front of his eyes, and he waved his wand casting an 'Alohomora.' It didn't open, so he needed to find the right key.
He glanced above and looked at each key closely. All of them were the same… except one. That one was more carved and designed. Albeit at the first sight, one would see all of them the same, but after examining closely, everyone would be able to differentiate.
His gaze fell to the only broom which was present at the right wall, but he decided to shun it because he had other plans.
He looked at the raven perched upon his shoulder. Her black onyx invaded his emerald green, and they seemed to have a mental conversation through the sight only.
From her slight nod, he knew she agreed to help him. His head snapped again above, as he pointed to the lone key that he wanted.
She nodded, "Caw!" With a squawk, she flapped her dark wings, flying at an unbelievable speed for a Raven.
Flapping her dark wings, her eyes' sole focus was the key that her master wanted in order to accomplish his task. The key was about to move but before it could fly away from her, she already snatched it in her dark claws.
She released another squawk of victory, before she went down to him, giving him the key.
He shared a few of the rare smiles with her to which she squawked and patted her affectionately before leading her to his shoulder.
"Caw!"
With that, he moved him in the hallway to the massive gate and inserted the key. As the key was inserted, the door liberated an oddly satisfying noise.
The gate opened, and it took another couple of steps before he reached the next challenge.
It was the largest wizarding chessboard he had ever seen. Few of the pieces were not there, meaning that he had to take one of the roles.
To pass this challenge, he had to defeat the magically enchanted chessboard. He was in no mood to do that, another idea clicked into his mind.
He went to the previous hallway for the… broom.
He never tried a broom, and it would be his first experience. Hell, he did not even attend the broom class but in his book, it should not be that tough.
And if it was, then he would see later.
Grabbing the old broom, he loosened his fist a little because of the cracking sound which came from the old stick.
He came back to the hall and took the broom, and positioned himself.
Mavis took the fleet, "Caw," she screeched warningly as though saying that it was tough.
He had adjusted his grip and his position, making sure that they were perfect and flawless. Satisfied with his efforts, he bit his lower lip, ready to bear the pain if he fell.
Without another thought, he kicked off his broom. He felt a sudden jerk, but the tight grip on the broom helped him surely. He opened his head and saw himself going up and up.
Panicking slightly, he pressured his broom downwards, maintaining the distance from the ground and the ceiling. He felt the weight on his feet lifted as did the entire weight of his boy.
He felt… alive.
At first, it was slightly awkward but that awkwardness was consumed by the amazing pleasure that he was feeling. His black strands brushed slightly as the air nuzzled through them.
He cheered slightly, just enjoying the feeling of being in the air. From a corner of the room, Mavis was watching her master, amusedly. It was not the perfect spot to enjoy flying, but it never hurt to try something new.
Mavis again took a flight, circling around him as he floated in the air.
He might be mature for his age, but he was allowed to do something kids do these days. He was hooked on flying and was sure that he would go on a couple of rounds in a week.
After enjoying it for some more time, he sighed. It was time to move on to another trap which was set after this.
He slowly floated downwards, eventually, his feet hit the ground, and he sighed in relief. Mavis landed again on her perch, giving a gentle squawk.
Another dark hallway, which trudged his path across the hall. He reached the humanly-sized door and opened it.
As soon as he opened the door, a deep, obnoxious stench invaded his nostrils, immediately making him pinch his nose. Even Mavis seemed to get away from that smell.
From the same position, he looked in front of him, the same fatty stomach, the same whiskers, the overgrown fingers, the same fatty toes, and the same nose he hated. A troll.
But this was larger than the previous one that Harry had encountered.
The previous one was, perhaps, 10 feet long but this one reached the height of fifteen feet. The troll's five feet club would have scared anybody and everybody but he was not everybody.
He raised an eyebrow. The traps were naive, and the troll was not even awake for merlin's sake. Mavis was about to make a sound, but he hushed her by placing a finger on his lip.
The door was past the troll.
He cast a disillusionment charm on himself along with a silencing charm. Without any effort, he made his way to the door and opened it. Seeing that the slight 'crack' sound was waking the troll up, he closed the door wisely.
'The next trap,' he huffed, growing annoyed. The traps were not even difficult, and Dumbledore was warning them.
'If you wanted to die a painful death, falling from the broom must be what the old codger was saying,' he scoffed. 'Too much for a painful death.'
He shook his head in exasperation, 'Next one.' He sighed as he removed charms from him and Mavis as she released a squawk.
As he stepped at the threshold, a group of seven multi-colored potions was there. He took another step, and the threshold was now on fire with peculiar purple flames. 'Need'
There was a weird smell coming from the fire. 'Potassium Salts.' He mused internally, then his gaze fell across the parchments. 'Never mind,' he shook his head.
He took the slip of the parchment, there was a riddle.
Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,
Two of us will help you, whichever you would find,
One among us seven will let you move ahead,
Another will transport the drinker back instead,
Two among our number hold only nettle wine,
Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line.
Choose, unless you wish to stay here for evermore,
To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:
First, however slyly the poison tries to hide
You will always find some on nettle wine's left side;
Second, different are those who stand at either end,
But if you would move onwards, neither is your friend;
Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,
Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;
Fourth, the second left and the second on the right
Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight.
"Must be Snape's," he mumbled."Caw," Mavis agreed as she eyed the parchment critically. "He must have worked hard to write this," he snorted. Again, Mavis agreed.
"Well let's see," he muttered as he glanced at the parchment for another time. 'The first four lines of the riddle clearly say that there are only two potions which would help me, huh? Three of them are killers means… poison or something, and two are wines. Now that bad.' he snorted. 'Two of the smallest.'
He took two smallest vials and opened their chokes, and scented them. They both were more or less the same. He could not really decipher which one was the stronger scent than the other.
"Hey, Mavis- Nevermind you are not a dog," he muttered as he eyed her scrutinizingly. His gaze swept on her feather as he grinned.
"Mavis," he called her out as she glanced at him.
"Caw?" A questioning squawk.
"Can I take one of your feathers?" He almost pleaded. She looked cautious but nodded, eventually. He inclined his head.
"I don't know if it would hurt or not but..." And he snatched one of her feathers. "It didn't hurt?"
"Caw," she shook her head.
"Very well," his eyes were furrowed as he poured very little of the potion of one of the vials. He held the feather from the end, ensuring that there was no harm to his skin. As soon as the fickle potion spread on the feather, he threw it into the fire, and rather than burning it just crossed it.
"'Tis the one." He stated as he opened the vial again and drank the quarter of the vial. He poured some potion on the raven much to her dismay. A little over half of the potion was left.
With a deep breath, he entered the flames and closed his eyes. He felt intense heat creep upon his body, but shunning the feeling, he kept walking until he felt some air.
He opened his eyes to see...
.
.
.
.
...nothing.
The room was totally empty. There was not even a fly but a small, buzzing air sound. But in front of him was a mirror that he recognized thoroughly.
'Mirror of Erised,' he breathed out.
What was it here?
Sure, after the day with Dumbledore, he had avoided the mirror, but he did check for a time or two, and it was not there for five days.
Why would a mirror that showed the heart's deepest desire be here?
Was it hidden? No, it couldn't be. It was exposed to several people just a week before, and hiding it suddenly made no sense.
There was no stone here, unlike he had suspected. He groaned in frustration. All of his efforts were nothing but a waste.
He looked at the mirror, and it showed his parents like before.
It didn't go unnoticed that Mavis was taking great amusement in his frustration. He glared at her.
He shook his head in utter exasperation as he deflated audibly.
He took out his wand and pointed it at the threshold. He muttered some incantation as he pointed to the marble that glowed and soon faded.
"Caw?" A questioning squawk from the Raven.
He looked absent-minded, "These are like alerting charms. As soon as someone steps in the threshold, my wand would beep and glow, and I would know that someone has entered."
His gaze swept over, "If I could not find it, then I should let someone else find it. I would just steal it from him/her or it..." He finished with a wink.
Mavis shook her exasperated. What he would do with the stone, she was unsure. But there was one thing that she was sure of.
Her master was one hell of a psycho.
{SCENE BREAK}
She looked at him scrutinizing as she chewed her sausage. Her blue eyes boring into his green ones.
They both knew why she was staring at him, but neither commented.
"Where were you last night?" She questioned, chewing another piece of sausage.
He shrugged, "Just wandering in the castle."
A lie.
She just could not fathom but she could tell when he was lying and when he was not, this time he was. He might be great at lying and keeping secrets, but she was able to read him like an open book.
He knew that she knew it was a lie, and he was lying.
Yet he lied.
"Really?" She arched an eyebrow. "Found something interesting?" She continued, drinking the fruit shake.
Another shrug, "Not really. The usual Filch running his ass off, few prefects, some spooky voices of ghosts, and blah, blah, blah.." He answered with a funny face.
"Oh," she mumbled. She was curious to ask more, she was a Ravenclaw for a reason, after all. She did not push him, she knew how annoyed he got when he was constantly asked 'useless questions,' at least according to him.
"You are sitting a lot here," he commented as he took another bite of his sandwich.
"Why? I am just sitting with my friend, also I have some friends in Ravenclaw but they are too… girly for me." She retorted, making a fake pout.
"If you forgot, then I should remind you that you are a girl," he pointed up, dumbly.
"I know that, silly," She punched him on the shoulder. "They just talk about something that I don't like."
His eyebrows furrowed, "And that is?"
She felt the heat creeping up on her cheeks, she punched him again as he winced, "Nothing." She sighed.
"Really?"
"Yeah," she huffed irritatedly. Sometimes, he could be dense as a brick. He just nodded and went back to his sandwiches.
"What about you? What do you blokes talk about?"
He shrugged again, "I don't talk to too many people besides you, Megan, and Boot. You and Megan are girls-"
"Oh really?' She mocked. He ignored her and continued.
"Boot always talks about assignments or Quidditch." He added thoughtfully.
She punched him on the shoulder again, "You know, you should have more fun."
He raised an eyebrow, "Means?"
"Means you should hang out with friends, have fun, not all be gloomy and lonely," she explained exasperatedly.
"I am already hanging out with you people more than I used to," he retorted.
"That is not hanging out, Harry. Even when we try to do something, you just bring up some magical mystery or education. Try to have some more fun. Play Quidditch or fly. Did you even attend the flying classes?"
"Nah, I did not." He answered honestly. "But I am thinking of trying to fly." She heard him mutter.
He turned to look at her, "I try to have fun, Ash. I really do," he started, and the first time he looked so defeated. "But, everything comes easy to me. I mean… whatever I try... I do… I even think of… comes easy to me. I want to have fun, but how could I if it is not thrilling and difficult for me."
Her gaze softened considerably, and her lips were graced by the softest smile, "Then, we'll… we'll find out something for you. There is always a choice, we just have to find yours."
He smiled - one of the few rare smiles he shared - and it could light a thousand candles. At that time only, she could observe how striking his features were.
The green eyes, pale skin that was having a healthy tan, the soft smile, and everything… Only that was the time she could observe them.
She was shaken from her reverie when she noticed him staring at the huge ceiling. She too looked upwards and stared.
Snow.
Not the first of the season, but snow nonetheless.
The enchantments on the roof were removed by Professor Dumbledore a few days ago. It was a display of his magical prowess that he was able to remove the enchantments of Hogwarts that were created by four founders, and he was able to enchant it again.
"What are you looking at?" She asked, despite knowing the answer.
"Do you like snow?" She frowned.
"It just makes me comfortable," he answered, his eyes still not leaving the ceiling.
"Well, let's just watch from closer. Let's go outside." He did not retort, he did not want to.
He followed her without the slightest of hesitation. They left several students behind, some were even couples, but for now, all they wanted was a bench to stare at the mesmerizing snowflakes.
They finally found one.
They sat there, a beautiful silence started taking over them as their gaze followed the lonely snowflake who was falling down, wanting to meet its numerous companions.
"You know," She started, breaking the wonderful silence, "What does snow remind me of?"
"What?" His eyebrows were furrowed as his eyes swept over her. "What does it remind you of?"
She gave him a dazzling smile, "Christmas." She replied, beaming excitedly. "That means gifts," her giddiness increased.
"Oh," he snorted out. "That's good."
She frowned at him, "Why? Aren't you excited for Christmas?"
He shook his head, "Not really."
"Why? Don't you like gifts?" She continued.
"No, I do. I do. Tell me who does not like gifts," she blushed. "It's just another holiday for me."
"You don't celebrate Christmas?" She questioned, more like demanded.
"Not really. We do not celebrate in Orphanage, it is like another holiday for me."
"Means no gift?"
"Nope, not one." He replied with a sad smile.
"Well," she drawled. "This time, you don't have to worry about it."
"Why?"
"'Cuz I would give you one, silly." She huffed indignantly.
"You would." She nodded. "And if you forgot?"
"I won't." She denied vehemently.
"How can I be sure?" He asked with an amused grin tugging his lips.
"It's rather simple," she stated. Another one of her killing smiles.
"It's a promise."
{SCENE BREAK}
"How would you like your tea?" The half-goblin asked as he poured the tea in a cup from the kettle.
"With some sugar," he answered with a straight face.
The small professor nodded, "Very well." Taking some sugar cubes, he poured some sugar cubes in the cup, and with a 'Tap' sound, they were hitting the surface of the cup. "There you go," he offered a cup of tea.
He took a sip from it and was fairly impressed by it. "Is it Earl Grey?" Merely curious." He added quickly.
Flitwick inclined his head, "It is." He answered, "Never get tired of it." He added as an afterthought.
"Indeed, it is good, especially for health. I never knew that you were a fan of muggle tea," He sipped his drink again.
"I never was, until one day, Professor McGonagall offered, and I was hooked," he replied.
Harry snorted with amusement but didn't comment.
After an eerie silence, Flitwick spared a glance, "So, Mister Potter," he started. "Why have you come here?" He continued, "In the middle of the night, no less." He finished.
Flitwick, by the end of the last sentence, looked intimidating. He was not scared, merely agitated. Well, it was not always when one got a knock in the middle of the night.
"I was interested in learning about dueling… and your dueling carrier." The diminutive professor's demeanor immediately changed into an exhilarated one.
"You are?" He asked, practically bouncing in his seat.
Harry nodded, "Indeed I am, and I would like to learn about your career."
"How do you know that I was a duelist?" Flitwick interrogated suspiciously.
"From some books I read. I was searching more about it when I stumbled across a book named 'Hall of Fame' or something and found that you are quite famous." He finished with a smirk.
"I must admit that the start of my career was a little rocky, but eventually it all eased for me." He replied with a nostalgic smile.
"What do you mean by 'rocky?' It must have been hard, but not that hard."
Flitwick's expression suddenly changed seriously, before it turned back to its usual jovial mood. "Mister Potter, I am going to be a little sentimental from now on, so warning," he snorted.
"Anyways, Mister Potter, always remember one thing- the god… the god, mother magic, christ, merlin, and whatever you call the one holy force in the universe has not made us equal. We all are different by different means, some are gifted, and some are not."
"Certain people, special people, people like you - no offense - are born gifted. But people like me are not. We are not gifted the same way as you are. Dumbledore is exceedingly gifted, so you are. So was Voldemort, while many despise him, it can not be ignored that he was one of the most gifted wizards in history."
"But people like me are normal. You know, it is also a curse to be normal to many people. We try, try, and try and one day, there is the end of our capacity. We have reached our pinnacle there, but it is not enough to compare with the gifted. Sure my goblin heritage helped a lot, but it was not enough to match those giants."
"Also, I was short, very short to them, and height matters. After a lot of thinking I became one thing that they can never dream of becoming."
Harry arched an eyebrow, "What did you become?"
Flitwick smiled softly, "I became myself. I embraced my true self. Throughout my life, I realized I was copying another person, his style of fighting, dueling. I realized that all human beings are created differently, and all of them have one thing that the others don't have."
"If you can even copy me, then it would work to a certain extent, and then my style would be futile. Dueling is not about fighting formally, it is also about entertainment. Entertainment of people. No one likes to watch what they already have. They always crave for something unorthodox."
For the first time in life, Harry, perhaps, was at a loss of words. He was thinking of copying Flitwick's style. How did Flitwick know that he was thinking that? He knew not. But perhaps he learned more. Far greater than he had expected.
His lips graced with a smile, "Very well." He nodded to him, "I'll hit you up later."
Flitwick inclined his head, "Please do." When he was about to leave, the same voice spoke again, "And always remember, Harry. People are unequal in this world. It is unfair, but at the same time, it is completely fair. My height may have been a disadvantage, but it was not a disability."
Did I outdo myself? Or not? Please tell me.
Writing this chapter made me realize how bad I am at portraying someone's emotion. You must have noticed that the last part of the story was not as smooth as others, was it?
For writing that first part, I had to rewatch the Philosopher's Stone (movie.) All of the events that occurred there were completely messed up, so yeah.
Hope you liked the Ashley/Harry moment. I don't think I could do better than that, I mean what one could possibly write in 11 years old kids' fluff. It didn't seem fluff to me, it was more like a friendship bond.
Wait for one week for the next chapter, and I can assure you that I may have big plans for it. Well… not really.
Don't forget to review, it is like fuel for our motivation,
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