Story challenge for the Emerald Library. You can join us for future challenges or just to say hi. You can find a link on my profile or visit The Emerald Library (id: 15000871) on FFN.
If anyone read the original, I have fixed some glaring errors. In a day and a half I put this together, so it didn't my normal multiple rereads. I have also added a few new details, but bot many.
Rules:
1) Any Fandom
2) Nothing else...
Story Prompt:
Use the Prophesy, "As seas churn, a duel shall mark the age of love and history will be rewritten."
-oOo-
February 11, 1998
Somewhere along the North Sea, North of Scarborough, England
Harry stood there shivering. Hermione was drawing the runes needed to work with the circle they had just made. In the last few months, they had grown more desperate to find the remaining horcruxes.
"Harry, you don't have to do this," she told him.
A storm was off in the distance. The sea was frothing as wind tore off the tops of the waves as they crashed into the shore.
"Hermione, we don't have any other ideas," he reminded her, trying to keep his teeth from chattering.
"I am going as fast as I can, but I can't make a mistake," she told him.
"Did I say anything?"
"You're shivering," she pointed out.
"I'll be alright. Just finish," he told her.
"I still don't know if this will work. I love Luna, but I am not sure her father or her are of sound mind," Hermione voiced her concerns again.
"Well, it's either call on one of the old gods to ask for a favor or find the hallows," he replied.
"Which I doubt either exist," she said skeptically.
"What about my cloak?"
She pursed her lips. "I don't know. It is very uncommon, but do you really think Death granted it to your ancestor?"
Harry gave her a small smile. "No clue, but anything is possible with magic."
She rolled her eyes. "You know magic doesn't work the way it does in movies or Muggle books."
"No, but it is rather magical," he said with a cheeky grin, trying to ignore the misty rain that was starting. He had to stand at the edge of the rune circle so that the bond could be made. It would have been nice if they could have done this in the tent. At least the wind would have been blocked.
"I swear, if you don't stop, I'm going to mess this up," she scolded him. He could tell she was stressed with how short she was with him. Since Christmas something had changed between them. A few times they had shared a bed when one of them would have a nightmare or a rough night. It was surprisingly comforting to have her warm body next to him when he woke. They hadn't kissed or anything, but after the first night she had cradled him to her when he had a vivid vision of Colin Creevey being killed. He hadn't thought of Ginny once since then.
Now, his dreams were filled with another girl, and some morning she was in his bed... though more clothed than he had dreamed her being.
He stayed quiet as she continued with the runes.
"You don't have to stop talking, just don't make me laugh," she said softly, Harry just barely hearing her over the wind and waves.
It was moments like this that had Harry's heart turning toward his best friend. Being of Muggle origins, she got his weird references and way of thinking far better than the Weasley's ever had. Harry tried to suppress a snark just thinking of that name. Harry had thought Ron was his best mate and had outgrown his jealousy and whatever other issue he had with Harry. Guess it just goes to show you that people can't really change who they are.
"If this doesn't work, I don't know what else to do," he told her.
"I don't either," she replied. "Done."
Harry looked down at the grease marks over his body. Doing this with a grease pencil had been decided to be the best thing, fearing water might wash off or mar any of the runes if they used paints. Given the poor weather, they would never have been able to do this under the full moon with the night that was here.
"I move to the center and just start the chant?" he confirmed.
"Yes. The moon should be up by now so the magic will be nearing its peak. Anytime between now and morning would be best," she told him.
Harry let out a long breath. "Well, no use just standing here."
Harry went to take a step into the ward ring when Hermione grasped his hand. She put his wand into his hand and a knife they had found on a dead goblin the night they had found out about Snatchers. "Be careful," she told him. Harry was about to assure her he would be when Hermione suddenly darted forward and planted her lips on his.
He was shocked at first, but very soon leaned into the kiss and tried to deepen it. When he tried to pull her closer, she pushed off him, taking a step back. "We can't risk damaging the runes. Just... come back to me," she said in a pleading voice.
Harry stared at her for a moment. He had dreamed of that for weeks. Now that it happened, Harry wanted more. "Hermione..."
"We can talk about it when you are done. Now go. You are starting to shiver all over," she demanded.
Harry realized his body was shivering more as a cold rain started. His whole frame gave a full body shutter. "Did you mean to kiss me?"
"Yes," she said without hesitation.
Harry stared at her concerned brown eyes and thought he saw something else, something he had missed before. "I'll come back to you," he promised, feeling something in him providing a warmth he hadn't felt just a moment ago.
Hermione nodded.
Harry took a backwards step and felt the power of the ocean, the earth and the moon. It was like all his senses had just expanded. His body heated, stopping his shivering. Overloaded for a moment, he stumbled into the center. All the runes on him and in the circle lit with an eerie blue light. "Harry!"
"Stay back," he ordered. Power radiated from his voice. Hermione's hands went to her mouth when she saw his green eyes glowing.
Taking in a deep breath, he forced the foreign magics that were swirling around him down. Standing up, he held the knife up.
"Glaoim ar an dia mór Lir. Athair na mara. Bronntóir na n-uiscí agus na n-iasc. Glaoim ar an dia Lir le haghaidh parley ó cheann a thabharfadh ómós.," Harry clearly announced, the Irish odd on his tongue. They had wanted to use and older Celtic tongue but couldn't find a good reference.
At the last word, Harry sliced the knife down, cutting into his palm. Blood welled up immediately, pooled in his cupped hand and then it fell in a splash on the ground, more dribbling after it. When the blood hit the runes of the circle, the eerie blue light flared. It suddenly burned a sea green, then turned dark, like the stormy sea that kept threatening to encroach on them. They had set the rune circle on the top of a large sand dune. Even so, waves washed up within fifteen feet of them now.
Harry had hoped whatever was going to happen would happen right away. As long as he let the blood drip onto the circle the call would be there. If he were to stop, then they would have to wait another month to repeat this.
Holding his hand out, closing it slightly to let the blood drip, instead of running as freely as it was, he began to get nervous. The warmth from Hermione kissing him was starting to fade. "Harry, it's been five minutes, maybe we should stop?"
"Hermione, we have to give it a little longer," Harry told her, feeling as apprehensive. Even so, they had put stock into this from the talk with Mr. Lovegood. They needed something. With his wand broken, no clue where to find the other two horcruxes and the best one they had stolen off the snatchers feeling less than half powerful as his old wand, they really needed something.
As they talked, Harry missed the roar of the sea growing, or that the wind had suddenly picked up until it was blowing so hard that Hermione had to turn away. He felt the surge in power. Turning to see the ocean, his eyes grew wide. A wave twenty feet high was bearing down on them. "HERMIONE!" he cried out, turning to her, the mismatched wand in his hand springing to life as he made the smallest circle movement while pushing his magic to make a solid spherical shield around her.
Hermione tried to react, bringing her own wand up, but by the time she did, the wave was crashing over them. It felt like a brick wall hitting him. Harry found himself tumbling, hitting the dune, then engulfed in water again. When he came to a stop, he couldn't keep the groan from coming out. He lay in almost a foot of water. "Who dares summon me?" a voice that echoed with a deep, ancient power said softly near him.
Harry rolled over, catching sight of a large man. He was perhaps seven feet tall with rippling muscles, a cloak fastened around his neck, an old-fashioned long dress like bottom and Celtic sword that had a magic in it Harry could feel. The man looked down at him in a disinterested way. Scrambling to his feet, Harry stood as tall as he could. "I have asked for you, Lord Lir," Harry said, trying to act as respectfully as he could.
The man looked at him and snorted. "A mere babe has called me from my depths to ask a favour? Has the children of Woden fallen so far that they would send someone with only a spark of old?"
Harry caught Hermione cresting the sand dune he had been washed over. The man turned faster than Harry could imagine, his hand coming up and a spear of water shooting from this hand. "NO!" Harry screamed, the wand in his hand reacting to his need, but warming uncomfortably as it tried to handle the amount of magic he channeled through it. A shield shot up. When the water hit it, Harry felt the draw on his magic as it sounded like a tidal wave trying to break through stone.
The man's head turned back to him. "Perhaps not as much of a spark as I thought. Perhaps larger?"
"I didn't summon you here, you bloody dick, to hurt us," Harry growled.
The god's brow rose. "You challenge me? A mere child of Woden?"
"I will not let you hurt Hermione," Harry replied.
They stared each other down for a moment. Harry felt he should cower in the power this man was radiating, but he would not see his best friend, his only friend in the world, hurt. "You have summoned me, child of Woden. As the old pacts state, if you can best me, I will give a boon. Should you lose, I shall have my tribute, and the girl shall be it. It has been many years since a girl of Woden has pleased me."
The slight grin the man gave him had Harry's blood boiling. Taking in a deep breath, he felt his power responding. "You will not have Hermione," he said in a soft voice that carried over the wind. It carried Harry's intent and threat should she be endangered.
The god chuckled. "Draw your sword," the man said, pulling the Celtic sword from his waist belt, then holding his arm out. An old round shield formed from the water that had pooled between the sand dunes. It lifted to his hand.
Harry held the wand in his hand and the knife in the other. The man gave him a condescending look. "Those are your weapons?"
Harry just stared back. "They will do," Harry told him.
"Harry!" Hermione called, pulling the sword of Gryffindor from her back.
The man snorted again. "Your woman is better armed than you are."
"I can do pretty well," Harry said, holding up the wand that had cooled some.
"I will not fight an unarmed boy. The girl is mine," the man said, moving towards Hermione at a run. The tall man covering ground at an alarming rate.
Harry yelled out, "Turres Ignum!" With a sweeping motion, the sand shot up into a solid stone wall. The god didn't stop, leveling his shield at the wall. Harry channeled a torrent of magic into the wand, which heated up, glowing an ominous red, as though it was burning from the inside. The god hit the wall. There was the sound of splintering wood. It splashed back to water as the ground shook. The wall cracked but held. The power Harry was channeling through the wand was too much and it suddenly burst into flame.
"Bloody hell," Harry curse, throwing the wand away.
The god had crumpled against the wall and was now getting up. There was a calculating look on his face. "You have no staff. How do you channel magic like that, child of Woden?"
"It was my wand. I guess it's just this knife now," Harry said, trying to take a stance like one he had seen on the few movies he had been able to watch when he could sneak it. Harry liked martial arts movies but had never been able to watch them often.
"HARRY!" he heard Hermione shout and the sword of Gryffindor came sailing over the wall.
The god got a small smile. "I don't know the last time I had a challenge."
"Bloody hell," Harry murmured to himself. The sword landed in the water between them. The god stood and Harry knew he had only seconds to get to the sword. He started to sprint. The man took large steps, until his foot impacted the water. Harry saw the sudden wave that came from his right. Praying he would get there in time, he was suddenly forced to brace himself, the knife held up in a defensive stance. He wished he had his wand to make a shield.
At his want, the gem in the base of the goblin knife shown red as though there was a light in it before the wave crashed into an invisible shield. In shock, Harry looked at the knife. He was just starting to realize that goblins didn't use wands, they used other foci, when another wave, this one looking sharp along its edge, came crashing towards him. Harry swung the blade, yelling, "Protego Maxima!"
This time a bluish glow sprung up before him. There was a gong sound. The force of the wave and the magic behind it caused an explosion of magic when it hit Harry's shield. The white wave of energy threw Harry back. He landed in the water, partially cushioning his fall. Pain coursed through his back, but he scrambled to his feet, swirling to face the burly man. The man was down on a knee, his sword buried half in the dune and looking as though the power burst had affected him as well.
Hermione came into view around the edge of the wall. She looked to have been running and had her wand up. The wind blew her frizzy hair everywhere and he felt the magic radiating off her. It wasn't like the now angry looking god as he looked up to Harry. "You are defiant, child of Woden. I don't like defiance."
Harry stood tall, taking up more of a dueling stance while holding the goblin blade before him. "No one will take Hermione."
The god smiled. It was a feral grin that sent a shiver up Harry's spine, as though he was a mouse to the cat that was about to come for him. The ruby-coloured gem at the base of the pommel of the knife flashed with Harry's anger as he pushed the feeling down. The man suddenly shot up. Harry barely had time to register the man running across the surface of the water, the sword swinging in a way that would easily cut Harry in half. Partly out of instinct, Harry moved to parry the blade, a protego shield leaping into existence to defend him. The sword bounced off the magical construct, blue sparks lighting the night. Harry moved as the sword bounced off, unbalancing the man for a second. It was all he needed.
The knife struck out the edge of his shield. A cutting curse leaving the blade. The god just barely stepped out of the way. The shield was still up and caught the next sword strike, sending more sparks into the night. Blue glowing cracks showed in the shield. Harry struck out again. This time sending a cutting curse then diving down, touching the blade to the water and yelling, "Glacius!"
The sword just missed him as the god walked forward. Only his feet didn't move. This gave Harry time to dive away and bring the blade up. "BOMBARDA!"
The man looked shocked for a moment to see his feet and lower legs encased in a foot of ice. The sword batted his explosive spell away, striking the water and sending up a huge spout. Harry was still moving, this time sending a few darker cutting curses as the man's eyes flashed and the ice around him melted. There was a burst of power and the water turned into a huge wave. Harry pulled the blade up again, getting a shield up. The god cried out in pain and the power that came from him was greater than anything the man had used yet. The wave of water crashed into his shield, but instead of holding like it before, the power was too much. The shield collapsed almost instantly with the raw power that just hit it.
Harry was tumbled as the wave washed over him. When he stopped tumbling, he tried to breathe and took in a mouth full of water, realizing he was encased in a bubble of sea water. Harry slashed the blade out, the only intention he had was to get out. A wave of energy cut through the water and the bubble collapse, dropping Harry a few feet onto the sand dune.
There was a cry of rage. Harry just had time to roll as the sword came down, just missing his leg. Putting his hand against the blade, he pushed his magic, hoping to banish the god. He wasn't sure if the gods shock on his face as he suddenly flew back or Harry's that is worked, was more surprising. The god flew up in a large arch. Harry rolled to get up in time to see the man land in the water a good fifty feet away.
One thing the Death Eaters had taught him was to never underestimate a downed opponent until you knew they would not get up. Harry slashed the knife a few times before jabbing it towards the man. Sectumsempra leapt from the blade with each slash, then a piercing curse. He didn't want to kill the god, but Harry wasn't going to let the man just cut him up.
In his rush, the first spell went just wide, shooting up water just to the side of the man. The next hit his leg, causing him to scream. the third hit a wall of water, leaving a large gash in the wall. The piercing hex went through the crack in the water before it could close. There was another scream, this one of rage this time.
Harry dove to the side as the wall suddenly exploded and the water was like a thousand spears. He rolled into a small dell before sand was shooting up all around him. One of the spears of water got through and Harry cried out at it shot through his leg, leaving an inch wide hole. "Bloody fuck!" he cried out.
He didn't have any time to recover as a mass came over him, blacker than the night around them. Harry swung the blade up, putting his hand on the blade again to push out a large shield. Feeling the power in this hammer like wave, he put as much magic into it as he could. The wave crashed into the shield. It glowed a bright blue as it resisted the power behind it. Harry cried out at the strain as the water just kept coming. It blasted the sand around him. After a few seconds, it started to seep in, slowly bringing up the chance that Harry would drown if he couldn't get out of the situation he was in.
The gem added a red glow to the blue glow from the shield as Harry tried to pour more of his magic into the shield. The water kept coming. He had no warning when a sword suddenly swung out of the depth of the torrent. He just barely got enough power to keep the sword from breaking the shield, splinters of light radiating from the impact zone.
"I will not die like this," Harry yelled out, pushing the shield out and forcing all the water around him to shoot up. The shield caught the second swing of the sword, and then they met. There was another flash. This time it made a thunderclap as the two powers met. Harry was slammed with the power. It drove all the wind out of his chest, and he felt like his body was being pressed by a pressure that threatened to kill him.
When it ended, water sloshed back into the dell.
Harry struggled to breathe as the water pooled around him. It came to just about his mouth before stopping.
"Harry!" Hermione yelled over the wind.
Suddenly air rushed back into his lungs. He took in a few greedy breaths, then sputtered when the last breath took in a mouth full of water. Someone jumped into the puddle next to him. "Oh my god!" Hermione screamed, trying to lift him up. As his head cleared the water, his chest felt like it was burning, and he struggled a little to take in another breath.
"Run," he tried to tell her.
"No, don't say anything. I need to heal you," she told him, her wand coming up and starting a complicated series of movement. As she did that, Harry caught Lir step up to the side of the dell. The god was bleeding from a few cuts on his legs and arms. There was a small hole in one of his shoulders. Harry had the thought that most of the wounds looks superficial, unlike they would have if the man was normal.
Harry tried to feel for the goblin blade as Hermione muttered something. He started to feel her magic rush over him, his breathing become a little less labored. When he couldn't find the blade, he struggled to move to shield Hermione.
"Harry, you have to stay still," Hermione's panicked command tried to stop him.
The god, Lir, looked down at them, his sword held down, the point just about grazing the sand. "I won't let you," Harry wheezed out. They had not thought this would turn into a fight, but again, Harry wasn't sure he would survive meeting a god.
Hermione turned, her wand coming up. There was a sudden fierceness that caused her power to radiate off her. "Don't come any closer."
It was a long moment or two with them all just staring each other down. When Lir spoke, it had the deep power that had Harry know he could never win, but he would die trying. "Fair met, warrior. It has been many hundreds of years since anyone has put up such a fight. I am truly sorry you have lost. You have been a worthy opponent. I give my word that your woman will be treated as a princess of my realm and all her children shall remember the spirit of the man that originally claimed her."
"Fudder off," Harry spat.
Lir snorted. "Few go to their deaths with such defiance. You do not fear death, do you?"
Hermione looked ready to go at any moment. He knew she was strong and would put up a good fight, but Harry knew she would lose too if she started to cast spells. Harry took in a few breaths before replying, "You are not the first person to try to kill me. I will fight until I have no breath left in me."
Harry suddenly felt the handle of the knife. Roaring with a power that welled up in him, he pushed Hermione aside, stabbing the blade before him. He had no other intent than to keep Hermione safe. A huge surge of red light shot out from the blade. Lir's sword moved in two fluid motions. The first deflected the spell light into the night. The second came down in a high arch. Hermione yelled out, a shield popping up over him. There was a power in that Harry had never felt from her before. The sword slammed into Hermione's shield, slicing through it like it was nothing. Harry felt the pain as the tip just caught his forehead as he fell back, all his energy finally spent.
As he fell, another earthly scream rent the night. A mist blacker than black exploded from his now cut open scar. It cried out in a misery that Harry had never heard. He felt like a great pressure was being taken from him. He fell back into the sand, watching as a face came out in the cloud, burning red eyes meeting his before it dissipated, screaming its fury at the darkness it vanished into.
He just lay there, feeling as though he was floating, like what was tethering him to this plane of existence was slowly unraveling.
"HARRY!" Hermione cried out as Lir stepped over him. There was a sadness in the man's eyes.
"A warrior to the end," the man said as though it was a great compliment. He raised the sword up, the tip pointing towards Harry's chest. Wrapping both hands around the pommel, the man lifted the sword as high as he could. There was a flash of white, followed by a small rainbow. The white light hit the sword, sending it flying out of the god's hand. The next spell was a blasting hex that caught Lir in his side, followed by a foul looking purple spell and an orange one he didn't recognize.
The blasting hex threw the god back, causing the other two spells to just miss. All Harry knew was that the man was suddenly out of his vision and Hermione was next to him. "Don't you leave me now," she said through tears as she took out her beaded bag and started to riffle through it. "Where is that dittany? Oh, Merlin! Accio Dittany!"
As she caught whatever she had been looking for, Harry saw Lir come over to them. He was holding his side. Harry tried to warn Hermione but was too weak now to even lift a hand. The god held his sword again. When Hermione caught site of movement, her wand came up. Before she could get a word out, the sword sung through the air. Harry felt the power it took to get such unnatural speed. "BOMBARDA!" Hermione shouted.
Sparked shot out the wand as the top three inches were suddenly gone.
"I give you my word, this brave woman will be a princess of my court," Lir told them.
Seeing Lir raise the sword again, Hermione threw herself over Harry. "You will have to kill me too," she yelled defiantly.
Lir held the sword over his head, staring down at the young couple that so obviously cared for each other. He could not remember the last time he had seen two so willing to sacrifice themselves for each other. The storm was rolling in now and a roll of thunder came as the spitting rain started to mix with a slushy mix.
"I will not be your plaything," Hermione added.
Harry was starting to get his breath back as the god lowered his sword. It was silent as large snowflakes started to fall in the rain.
After a moment, Lir nodded. "You are willing to sacrifice yourself for this warrior?"
"I am willing to fight alongside him. He is my best friend," she replied back.
There was another long-drawn-out moment of silence. "This warrior is more than that. I see it. I feel it. You deny it."
"I don't deny it," Hermione shouted back.
"You deny it. When treating with a god, you must know that lying forfeits your right of summoning?" Lir asked, as though he was trying to puzzle something out.
"I... I have never heard or read that," Hermione replied.
"Do you insist in your lie?"
Hermione was still laying over him, Harry still feeling too weak to move or talk. She turned her head to him, her brown eyes meeting his green. There were tears that looked to be threatening to come out, but the fierceness to protect him shoved down any fear or apprehension she had. Harry felt that this was a moment of great importance. The talk they were going to have later was suddenly forced on him.
After a moment, she softly said, "I don't want to lie anymore."
Harry let out a labored breath before getting out, "Hermione."
She looked ready to break. "Harry, if we are about to die, please know I love you."
She leaned down and brushed her lips over his. The pain in his body lessoned. He didn't want to see her die, but he was ready if she would be with him. She had been the only one to ever stand by him through almost anything.
There was a pulse that went through the air. It washed over them. Harry shifted his eyes to Lir. Hermione moved to look up. "If you are going to kill us, just do it," she challenged.
Lir started to laugh. "Such spirit. You have risen far in my court. Alas, Lady Magic has claimed you her champions now. You have fought well and bravely. Should we meet again, I shall not hold back," Lir said. Holding his sword up, parallel to his body then bringing it down, Harry realized it was an old salute. The god turned his back on them and walked away.
His hold on this reality felt like it was slipping more. Hermione still shielded him for a moment, before pushing herself up. "No. No. No. No. You can't leave me," Hermione said, as though sensing his loosening of reality.
"Hermione," he got out. She shook her head, holding a purple bottle up.
"You are not leaving me, Harry James Potter. Not now you know," she ordered, unstoppering the bottle and dripping something onto his forehead. He felt the sting and hissed. "I need a wand," she frantically said, diving into her beaded bag again.
As she looked, there was a soft yellow light that slowly came towards them from their side. The snow that was now starting to fall seemed to fall all around them, but not on them. His body was cooling from the loss of magic and the water he had been in. It was starting to shiver again. Harry managed to turn his head. Walking towards them was a woman in yellow robes and emanating the yellow light he had seen.
Hermione suddenly realized there was someone else. She stopped rummaging in the bag. As though just realizing Harry still had the knife in his hand, she grabbed it, holding it out before them, obviously never having held a knife before, but unwilling to let any more harm come to him.
"Easy, child," the woman said. Her voice was soothing, but where Lir had a feel of a deep depth of magic, this woman had the feel as though the abyss itself was coming up. She held out her hands in a placating gesture. "I mean you no harm."
"I will not let him die," Hermione told the being. Harry knew she wasn't a woman, or even a god like Lir. The power he felt was like the sun. He couldn't figure out why it wasn't burning them.
"That is not my intent. Will you allow me?" she asked, moving a hand as though to indicate she was going to touch Harry.
After a moment, Hermione said in a small voice, "If you hurt him..."
The woman gave a smile. "Dear heart, I would sooner harm him than I would a butterfly."
The woman's hand reached down, Hermione still holding the knife up. When her hand touched his shoulder, he felt her magic rush into him. It was more magic that he had ever felt. His body tensed and he arched up, as though in pain, but he didn't feel pain. It was just an incredible surge of power.
"What are you doing!" Hermione yelled.
"It will be clear in a moment," the woman said.
Hermione didn't move, the knife starting to shake with her fraying nerves.
After a moment, the woman's magic pulled back and Harry slumped. Hermione, finally losing the battle to hold her fierce stance, moved down to look him over. "Harry? Are you alright? She didn't hurt you? You can't leave me."
Harry took a second to realize that all his pain and aches were gone. She leaned over him, putting her hand on his chest. "Oh, god, please say something!"
Harry reached up and pulled her down. "I'm alright, Hermione."
She cried out in surprise before she suddenly relaxed into his hold. She buried her face into his neck, and he felt tears on his skin. Looking up to the woman, who was giving them a warm smile, he asked, "Who are you?"
"I have gone by many names since time forgotten. The people of this land once called me Nimuea. You may as well," she offered.
"Nimuea?"
Hermione pushed up, tears still streaming down her face. "The Lady of the Lake," she got out, her hands trying to wipe her face clean. Harry sat up.
"Yes, dear child. Now, I find this rather foolish that you would challenge one of the deities that claim part of the realms," the woman said in a slightly scolding manner.
Harry, getting up and moving to make sure he was really all in one piece, looked to the goddess, for he really felt the power she had was that of a greater god. "We didn't have any choice," he replied. Hermione held out a hand and he lifted her up.
"No, I imagine you felt you didn't. You have not been led right to the ends the Fates foresaw for you. You have never given up though," she said, sounding like a mother trying to praise and scold children she had a great fondness for.
"I don't need to face you?" Harry asked apprehensively. Hermione slipped the knife into his hand.
She gave a tinkling laugh. "No, dear boy. Lir is correct, you two are warriors. I have come to favor champions that have truly risked everything. Such valor, and your past deeds, should merit a reward, and I have been able to convince my sisters to finally give you a boon," she told them.
"Your sisters?" Hermione asked.
"Williams Shakespeare had the precognition of an oracle, channeling his talent and the way he saw the magical world into prose that could bring understanding to all. You are named after a champion that was truly one of my favorites, Hermione of the Grangers. He was also right about my sisters, though they did not appreciate being portrayed as hags," she said with a little mirth.
Hermione gasped. "You mean there really are three sisters that decide fate?"
The woman gave an indulgent smile. "I wouldn't say decide fate. They are oracles of great power. They can see threads. Prophesy is just them playing with their chosen vassals to follow the thread they like more or can see leading to the greatest good for all. Though, like you have seen, their chosen vassals bear far more of the weight of their actions, and the suffering around them, than others."
Harry snorted. "So, the prophesy really is real," he commented.
"It is a path. One of an infinite others. As those infinities reduce to a single thread, it is woven into the reality of this world," Nimuea said. Harry could feel she was teaching them, but it didn't feel like she was being condescending about it. "Now, you need not worry yourself about it. I am here to reward you and your woman with a boon. As long as it is within my powers, I shall grant it."
Harry looked to Hermione. After a moment, she moved just a little closer, her hand in his. "You know what we came here for," she said to him.
"But what about our wands? How can we hope to destroy the other horcruxes, or even fight, without our wands?" Harry asked.
She frowned. After a moment, Hermione squeezed his hand. "We have a few left from those Snatchers. And that knife seems to channel magic. I could feel it. Maybe Gryffindor's sword has the same ability? We really need to know where the other horcruxes are. Without that, it won't matter if we get new wands."
Harry thought about it for a moment. He could see how Hermione wanted him to decide.
Letting out a long breath, he turned back to the deity. "Lady Nimuea, we have only one request. We need to find where Tom Riddle hid his horcruxes. We know there are at least two left. If you could help us with that, you would have our thanks."
The woman gave them an indulgent smile. "You could have or wish for anything in the world, perhaps the universe, and all you wish is to know where a spoiled child left parts of his soul so you can hunt them and keep suffering to save many that don't care if you live or not?"
Harry squeezed Hermione's hand. "It's all we want. There are still people we can save, and I can't let Tom Riddle win. He would kill everyone, innocent or not. Our friends and families."
Her indulgent smile turned more joyful. "And you, dear girl, you would want only this as well?"
"It is impossible to bring back those already dead and all we want is to end this war," Hermione told her.
"I can see that my sisters chose well. Rarely are ones like you so self-sacrificing. Would you allow me to help you in the way I think best?" Nimuea requested.
Harry didn't want to fight another god. He had lost the first fight and this deity was far stronger than the god of the seas. "I will trust you mean us as little harm as possible."
The woman looked very pleased. "The boon I gave to my sisters is well worth this. Very well, come forward and take my blessing before I grant your wish."
Harry gave a question to Hermione, who did a little shrug. Harry and her stepped forward. "For your bravery and sacrifice, I grant you, Harry James of the Potters, a wand of equal character to your own." She held out her hand and Harry's eyes went wide. It looked just like his holly wand that had been broken at Christmas.
"How?" Harry asked.
"It is not the same wand you had. Inside is a gift from a royal phoenix. It should be able to contain the power you have recently found."
Harry took the wand, magic rushing from him to it. Fat, golden sparks erupted from the tip. "Whoa," he said.
"Quite," she responded. "And for you, Hermione Jane of the Grangers, a wand that will guide you through any challenges you face."
It was a Vinewood wand, but with different markings than Harry remembered. Hermione reached out. It reacted almost the same way as his. "Vinewood with a scale sliver of a great dragon. It will give you knowledge when you need and be as fierce as I see your heart is when loved ones are endangered."
Hermione's eyes widened. "Greater dragons are just a myth," she said.
The woman raised a brow. "As I am to many?" she replied to Hermione.
Hermione's dirty cheeks brightened a little. "I didn't mean..."
"You place to much stock into what is written, instead of what is around you. Sometimes you cannot see what is there. And you, dear boy, rush into trouble when you should perhaps think about it, or at times retreat to find a better way," Nimuea said to him.
"Told you," Hermione said under her breath.
The woman chuckled. "Yes. Now for my boon. You ask to find the horcruxes. The three remaining are in highly secure places. I fear many of the lives you wish to save will be lost before you can end this, thus, I give you an option."
It was Hermione who asked after a moment, "What options?"
"I can grant your original request, or I can do something that will save those you hold dear," the deity said. "Perhaps even those that have already suffered."
"What do you mean?" Harry asked.
"I cannot say more, but I can offer you both options," Nimuea told him.
Harry turned to look at Hermione. "What do you think?"
"We came here to find a way to end this. If we could save more, I don't think we should let this go," Hermione told him.
After a moment, he nodded. "If your other options keep more people from suffering, we'll do it."
The woman gave them a smile that was both sad and proud. "I am truly sorry if you suffer more, but many will live better lives. When you get there, you cannot look up your families, but, Hermione of the Grangers, you will find resources at Gringotts that will allow you to live better lives after you have accomplished your task."
Hermione's hand grew so tight his hand hurt. "I will not be able to see my parents again?"
"Every time a great magic is performed, there is a price to pay. Are you willing to pay it?" Nimuea queried.
Hermione stood for a moment. "They will be safe and happy?"
"Them and the miracle your mother is now carrying," Nimuea said.
Hermione suddenly sounded choked. "Mum is pregnant?"
"Yes," the goddess said in a flat tone.
Harry turned to her. "You don't have to come with me. You have enough money to go to Australia. I will come find you when I can," he said, having a feeling if they split he would never see her again.
Hermione looked to him. More tears threatened to leave her eyes. After a moment, she moved in closer. "I am not leaving you."
"But your family..." he started.
"Will be safe. That is all I want," she told him.
"Fine," he said to her. "We are ready."
Hermione nodded her agreement.
"Then take my blessing, and good luck," Nimuea said, stepping to Harry and kissing his forehead. Harry felt a magic wash over him. It was protective, fierce and loving. When she stepped to Hermione to do the same, there was a flash of light and then the sound of the ocean and the storm were gone.
They stood in a quiet lane between two hedge rows. The sudden shock of the change in scenery had them both alarmed and wands came up.
It was very dark. Above them Harry could see many, many stars. Taking it all in, he suddenly stopped to see Hermione. She was in a straight skirt with a conservative blouse and tweed coat. Her eyes widened about the same time as she took him in. "What are you dressed in?" Hermione asked.
"Where are we?" Harry countered before looking down at himself. He was in a nice pair of trousers, a button up shirt and thick long cloak. Something about their clothes seemed decades off of the jeans and jackets they had been wearing not long ago.
"Uhm, I'm not sure where, but more like when," Hermione said, lighting the tip of her wand. He followed her motion to look at a poster proclaiming all able body men should fight in the war.
It took a moment for Harry to place where he had seen posters like that, and when he did, he had a vision of the World War II Museum he had been dragged off too one time with his relatives. "Oh, bloody hell," Harry muttered.
"Harry, when Nimuea said we could help those that have already suffered...?" Hermione put to him.
"Uhm, yeah, I think this is what you think it is," Harry agreed, looking at what she was wearing again. It was attractive on her, but it wasn't what they were used to wearing.
Hermione looked concerned. She was about to say something when a soft crack came from nearby. She extinguished her wand and Harry pulled her into the hedgerow, not wanting to be seen. That crack was definitely an apparition, and it was from someone that wasn't totally skilled in it yet. By now, Hermione and him barely made a sound with how much they had had to apparate since last August.
"Why are we hiding?"
"What if it's an Auror? Do we want to get caught yet?" Harry put to her.
She didn't say a word as footsteps echoed down the quiet lane. A boy with very light skin, slicked back hair and a rather stormy look on his face marched up the road. The boy was perhaps seventeen, eighteen at the most. Harry's breath caught, recognizing the boy right away. Pulling his wand, he made sure the boy was down the lane before he pointed his wand at their feet.
"Is that who I think it is?" Hermione whispered.
"Tom," Harry confirmed. He reached into his pocket, out of habit, to find his invisibility cloak. Luckily it was in the out pocket of the long coat he had on. "Put this on. Stay right behind. If this is what I think, Tom is about to make his first Horcrux," Harry told her.
"Harry, I won't hide myself while you go after him," she told him.
"You are coming, but my disillusionment charm is better, so you take the cloak. You help if I need it," he told her, not wanting to waste any time.
She didn't look pleased but complied. The silencing charm that had just been put on their shoes allowed them to move quicker than they might have without making a sound.
They followed the boy, slowly catching up to him. When he stopped before an old gate just off the lane, they close the distance. The boy looked at a piece of paper, then at the gate. Harry caught an old manor house on a hill through the hedgerow. He was going to kill his father and grandparents, just like Dumbledore had found.
The boy snarled. "I'll teach the Muggle to throw away my mother," the boy muttered loud enough for them to hear. A wand was suddenly in the boy's hand. He flicked it and a click of an unlocking padlock was clearly audible in the night. Harry was in between trying to confront him here or once he got into the house. Seeing that there were a lights on, Harry had the sudden realization they had been found still at the dinner table.
The boy started up the old, cobbled path. Harry stepped out to stand in the middle of the gate. "Tom Riddle!" Harry called out.
The boy was quick. Spinning around, Tom's wand moved fast. Instead of sending a killing curse, like his later Lord Voldemort persona would, three stunners quickly left the boys wand. Harry's wand rose and the stunners hit off a shield. Harry thought Tom might run, or keep firing spells, but he just stood there for a moment. "Who are you? Why did you follow me here?"
"I know what you are going to do," Harry told him.
The boy snarled. "I knew Slughorn would talk. Well, if you know what I am going to do, then I can't allow that."
Harry moved as the brother to his old wand rose again. Harry sent off a quartet of cutting curses, piercing hexes and a sectumsempra. Tom's opening salvo was three spells. A nasty blood boiling curse, something Harry didn't recognize and a screamed, "AVADA KEDAVRA!"
Harry dodged the spells as Tom brought up a shield, then quickly had to move aside as the first three spells shattered it, but barely missing the rather black cutting curse. Tom spun, his wand twirling another chain as Harry did his own. Faster than Harry thought could happen, the boy stopped mis string, only sending two purple spells at him before he was bringing up a shield to stop Hermione's blasting hexes.
Whipping his wand over his head, Harry forced out a long rope of flame, that shot toward Tom. Even at sixteen or seventeen, the boy was good, twisting his wand to avoid the flame whip as Hermione cast a few more spells. Spinning again, Tom dropped his shield. He turned towards Hermione, his wand moving in a strange pattern.
Pulling his wand back, the flame whip snapped up, causing the boy to pull his wand up, some black and silver spell sailing into the night.
"Avada Kedavra!" Tom spat. It was like a snake with how fluid the boy's movements were.
The curse sailed towards him. Harry dropped the fire whip to summon a stone from the drive up. It blew the stone up, but Tom couldn't follow as he was shooting water out of his wand to counter a long stream of blue flames from Hermione. Harry flicked his wand and then jabbed at Tom. A few stones pried loose from the drive, flying at almost impossible speeds while a piercing curse slipped between them. He jabbed again before the boy roared in anger, the water freezing and his wand wiping towards Harry, sending the rocks away. Tom missed the piercing spell. It ripped into the boy's shoulder. With a cry of pain, Tom fell. Hermione and him didn't stop. "Expelliarmus!" he shouted while Hermione flicked her wand.
The phoenix feather wand flew out of the boy's hand while the boy jerked and was pulled along for a moment before Harry saw something gold get pulled off his finger. "NO! That is mine!" Tom snarled.
Hermione caught the ring as Harry caught the wand. In his hands, the feather of Fawkes seemed to recognize him, and sparks shot out the tip. There was something so wrong feeling about this wand he immediately dropped it. Tom dove his hand up his left sleave. Out of instinct, Harry flicked his wand. A cutting curse just missed the boy's fingers, instead bisecting a second wand.
A bludgeoning charm from Hermione slammed the boy back into the ground, causing him to roll a few times.
There was a groan from the boy. "Hermione, are you hit?"
"No. You?"
"No," Harry replied.
Tom rolled over, a hand going to his shoulder. There was blood on his long jacket and on his fingers. "Who the bloody hell are you two? You don't go to Hogwarts." Tom spat something out of his mouth.
The sound of a door opening came down the hill.
"We have to go. Bind him," Harry barked out, moving to the side to see a light coming over a small hill. The door of the house wasn't visible as the drive snaked around the hill to the manor. Harry moved to Tom as Hermione shot out ropes. Grabbing Tom and manhandling him up, he reached a hand out for Hermione and they dissaparated just as a figure was coming over the rise.
When they reappeared, they found themselves in a wood copse. Harry shot off a stunning spell before Tom could say anything. Hermione was already moving around to setup the wards. Harry joined her. It was a few minutes before they stopped and looked at each other. "Are you alright?" Harry asked again.
"Yeah. You?"
"I'm alright. Are we going to heal him before he bleeds out or just let him die?" Hermione asked, turning to Tom.
Harry turned too Tom too. Blood was seeping over the ropes. Looking at the young man, Harry felt a hatred for the boy. "I want to put a piercing shot right through his head," Harry growled.
"We captured him. I can't kill someone in cold blood. We would be as bad as him," Hermione said, her voice full of emotion. Harry felt the conflict in her. Her morals didn't want her too, but to know all the pain this boy would cause looked to be eroding her iron will. Hermione rose her wand to point at the boy.
Harry did the same. Before them was a boy that had already hurt people. He had killed Myrtle by now. He was planning to kill tonight and would have if they hadn't stopped him. If Tom already had the ring, then his uncle already thought he killed the Riddles. "We can't leave him hear and we need to go back to the Riddles," Harry told her.
She gave him a questioning look. Harry, explained, "His uncle was obliviated and then given false memories of killing the Riddles."
Hermione scowled. "We could obliviate him," she said rather darkly.
Harry looked back to Tom. "But can't that be reversed?" Harry asked, remembering Hermione talking about how she could get back her parents.
"Not if you go over the same memories multiple times," she told him.
"What memories? Tom has been torturing people since he was eight," Harry said.
Hermione looked to have another internal conflict. "Everything," she replied.
Harry considered it. "You mean like Lockhart?"
"No. I mean everything. Do you think there is any good part of Tom?" she asked, looking up, but not taking her wand off the boy.
Harry shook his head. "No. He was evil as far back as he could remember," Harry said with conviction.
"Can you cast the spell? I know you were having issues with the theory," Hermione said.
Harry pointed his wand towards Tom's head. "What is the worse that happens? I break his mind?"
"It may be better to just kill him," she said in a small voice. "He would have to be raised like a little child, if he ever recovers."
Harry snarled. "Then he will learn what it is to suffer and loose everything."
She regarded Harry for a moment. "On three?"
"One. Two. Three. OBLIVIATE!" Harry yelled. Yes, this boy had yet to kill his parents, or many other people, but Harry wouldn't see him do what he had. As the spell impacted, Harry had the pure intention to just erase everything that was Tom Riddle or Voldemort. His mind and magic fought it, but Harry pushed all his anger, hurt, fear and rage into the spell. After a moment, he felt the boys magic break under the combined might of the two of them.
After another moment, they both stopped. "Again," Hermione said.
"Obliviate!" they both said at the same time.
This time Tom's magic put up a token resistance, as though he was a ghost of a memory. Once that resistance broke and he felt nothing fighting him, Harry stopped again.
"One more time," Hermione instructed him. She looked uncomfortable at what they were doing, but they had done too much now.
Harry nodded, not caring. Tom... Voldemort... whoever the bloody hell he was now... deserved far worse than this.
"Obliviate!"
-oOo-
A short time later...
Nimuea walked into an old stone room. Why her sisters liked acting like they were old hags she would never figure out. They hated how Shakespeare portrayed them, but this was how the playwright had met them. So entranced with spinning the world weave were they that they forgot they were gods at times and could have servants do this while they took care of themselves.
In the center of the room, they huddled around a tapestry that was yards wide, and many hundreds of miles long. The threads they wove into it were fine. Some of them singular. Some multistrand. The same strand may go through many different sizes as the people involved with them come and go. It was so intricate that even she had a hard time following it at times.
Walking up to the three, she shook her head as they squabbled over who got the scissors. Something cataclysmic had happened and a several foot long section was black.
"It is my turn," Monoao screeched, trying to grab the scissors.
"You did it last time," Reatha complained.
"You almost never let me touch them," Erudite shot at both of them. It was Erudite that caught sight of her first. Beckoning over the youngest of the three Fates, she smiled at Erudite cast a furtive glance at her sister before quietly sneaking away.
"What is the issue?" Nimuea asked.
"It is the tapestry. Decades have suddenly been erased. It's only the fourth time this has happened," Eros said.
"Sixth time," Monoao yelled over the squabbling she was involved in.
"Ninth, actually," Nimuea answered. All three were her sisters, but none of them were as old as she was. "Is there an issue with this change?"
"We need to cut out the dead timeline and start anew. Fifty-five years. We have never had to reweave fifty-five years," Eros said in an almost whine.
"Well, I was able to get father to give you these," she said, holding out two pairs of golden scissors, a handful of golden needles and two more thimbles.
The joy that lit up in Erudite's face was pleasant to see. She grabbed a scissor, two needles and a thimble, holding them to her chest and rushing over to the tapestry. The sound of cutting silenced the room. Erudite looked like Christmas had come. None of them said a thing until the dead piece of the tapestry fell to the floor. As soon as it did, small tendrils of the living fabric began to sprout out the cut ends. Erudite gave a squeal of delight, then took some of the threads and started to add to the tapestry.
The other two turned to her, their eyes lighting up to see the gifts she held for them. Rushing to get what she held, Monoao started to chant, "As seas churn, a duel shall mark the age of love and history will be rewritten."
Reatha added, "The love of centuries will save the world from a dark fate as he with the power approaches."
Erudite took over, "Born at the end of the seventh month."
"Rebirthed at the hands of the sister that claims a champion," Monoao put in her own verse.
"Loved by the girl willing to die so they could both live," Reatha said, pulling a string through her needle.
"The love of centuries shall rest and find the joy that all shall profit from," Erudite said as she happily worked with both needles and was already making new pictures that would define the age.
Together, they all chanted, "As seas churn, a duel shall mark the age of love and history will be rewritten."
-oOo-
Fall of 1943...
England
Harry sat at a table in the small cottage they had found out in the countryside. Sitting at the table, Harry was reading the Daily Prophet. News of the war in Europe was going well. Dumbledore had just recently fought a large battle with Grindelwald and the united Wizarding forces were pushing hard. Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck. "The war is going a lot better this time," she remarked.
"Many are thinking it may be done by New Years. France is back in the United Forces hands, and the Muggles have been able to land forces in Calais as the resistance really damages the Germans supply lines. I think you did a good think to send Dumbledore that letter," Harry said, turning his head to kiss her cheek.
Hermione smiled. "I just want this war to be done. We have fought too much."
"I agree," Harry said, taking up his teacup. "I saw my great-grandfather when I went into the Ministry. My father doesn't look anything like him."
Hermione smiled. "He does look like your grandfather. I am still not sure that your grandmother didn't look at you a little more than she should when we were in Hogsmeade last week."
"What do you mean? How could she recognize me? I'm not born for another thirty-seven years," Harry replied.
"She's a seventh-year student. I think she thought you fanciful," Hermione teased, taking an edge of the paper to read a new section.
"My grandfather only graduated a year and a half ago," Harry told her. "You said I look a lot like him."
"You look like a Potter," she said matter of factly.
"Good thing I am a Dagwood-Granger then," he told her. Harry didn't regret making a name change when they had visited the goblins a few months back. After the hectic few days of trying to figure out when they were, and where to leave Tom, they had decided that Harry couldn't approach his family. It would raise to many questions and could cause and even greater rift in the timeline than already existed.
"I wanted to take a picnic out to the woods today," she told him.
"What about the gardens and potions you have going? I thought you had deliveries to Diagon Alley and St. Mungo's tomorrow?"
"I do, but they should all be done before noon. We can go out after that," she told him.
Harry got a grin. "You just want to go find that little stream again and go in our skinnies, don't you?"
Hermione gave a small laugh. "No. You want me in my skinnies so you can take advantage of me again."
Harry kissed her cheek. "I didn't hear any complaints."
"And you won't if you try again," she told him, turning to peck his lips before suddenly pulling away. He watched her swaying her hips as she went out back to the shed, where her lab was. They were still getting used to 1943, but it was getting easier the longer they were here. Looking at the paper again, Harry was wondering how much they had changed. If the war could end almost two years early, that had to be a good thing. Right?
-oOo-
Glaoim ar an dia mór Lir. Athair na mara. Bronntóir na n-uiscí agus na n-iasc. Glaoim ar an dia Lir le haghaidh parley ó cheann a thabharfadh ómós.. = I call the great god Lir. Father of the sea. Giver of the waters and fish. I call on the god Lir for a parley from one that would give tribute.
A/N: I am going to go with the version the ring was Tom's first horcrux. I know many go with Myrtle, the year before, but I am going to say that was an accidental death. Tom didn't have time to prepare the ritual. The ring was the first one he made in this story; the diary was during his seventh year.