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Chapter 14: The Graves of Avalon
The light shining from the eyes of the angel was a golden brown, and the eyes never blinked. Harry Potter followed the eyes of the angel, waiting for a sign of reaching their destination. It was now dark night, and the air and water surrounding Harry's boat were icy cold. But Harry was determined. He had been in this boat, following the angel from Hermione's ring for the past four hours. And, if the need be, he would stay in the boat forever.
There was no sign of any land. The last land Harry had seen was on the shore of the Hogwarts Lake. He saw Merlin enchanting the boat and the water. The boat suddenly sped up to speeds faster than a motorboat, and the water of the Lake misted over. Harry had seen Merlin disappear into the fog, and had seen the boat reappear in a vast ocean. Wherever he was now, the storm was over, the stars were out, and the angel seemed to know where it was going.
Then, a swirl of mist engulfed Harry. He lost all bearing. He could barely see the eyes of the Angel, flitting back and forth, as if confused. It came back to the boat, spinning in place, emitting a whirring sound. And out of the mist came the sound of waves on a beach. Harry saw land suddenly emerge from the mist before him. And what a land it was.
A large, barren rock rose up out of the water. The stones were craggy, and in some places had rough steps hewn into them. And everywhere on the island, crosses were clearly visible. Some looked old and weather- beaten. Others looked as if they were freshly hewn. And in the middle of the island, Harry saw a cross that was pearly white, and looked as if it were still being etched. Pieces of it were still flying off, as if invisible hands were carving the stone. Harry knew that it had to be Arthur's grave. The magic in the air was tangible, but there was also a distinct reverence. It was as if in this place, the world of God and man became one among the gravestones.
And there, on the highest ledge on the island, was a small hut, with patches over the windows and a small cross, nailed crudely over the door.
Harry leapt off of the boat and whispered "Reverto" to the angel, which flew back into the ring Harry wore. He climbed up the stairs to the chapel/hut, scanning around for a sign of Mordred, Hermione, or Malfoy. He reached the door of the hut and entered.
Harry found himself not in a hut, but an immense cathedral. Along the walls were stained glass windows depicting scenes from the Bible, next to pictures of heroes fighting dragons, making cauldrons, and even one of what looked strangely like a man making a Sorcerer's Stone. Above him, Harry saw a vast mural covering the arch of the ceiling. On one side of the ceiling, there was a vast expanse of grassy plains, with wounded knights having their wounds dressed by angels, and resting by streams. The other side depicted a scene out of Harry's nightmares. The clouds were dark, and thousands of dark robed figures stood holding swords, their cloaks swaying in a hard wind. The scene also included those in punishment, with agony so profound that he could almost hear it. They were also all moving. One of the saints near the front saluted him, while many of his compatriots were too busy with their own personal struggle to notice the young man in their midst. Harry noticed, to his surprise, that many of the heroes had messy black hair, and a few others had red hair and startlingly green eyes. He felt in the presence of family for the first time since he saw his parents rise out of the wand in the graveyard, facing Voldemort.
But family was not the only presence in the room. He looked to the altar, and saw, tied to the base of the cross, Hermione. She looked terrified, and kept muttering to herself, closing her eyes. Harry knew what this was. He had been doing the same for the hours in the boat. He had been telling himself, over and over, that she would be all right, and that he would save her in time. She was keeping hope.
"Hermione!!" Harry cried racing forward. Her eyes snapped open, and a wide smile beamed across her face. Then her face began to darken, like a balloon deflating. "Harry, look out! It's a trap!"
Harry turned and saw Benedicto and Mordred coming toward him, wands raised.
"Careful, Potter," drawled Malfoy. "There's no Time of Sanctuary to save you this time." He strolled up to Hermione, and stuck the knife next to her throat. "Now just be a good boy, and give my master the Grail!"
Mordred motioned for Harry to follow him outside, into the graveyard. "This is a most opportune place to die, Potter. Arthur was too foolish to save him self, and look where it got him." Mordred placed his hand on the freshly hewn headstone. "Man, thou art dust, and to dust thou shalt return!" he cried. "Give me the Grail, Potter!"
Harry reached into the satchel he carried at his hip, hesitated, sighed, and pulled out the cup. Mordred laughed, a high, insane laugh, and snatched the cup from Harry's hands.
"It's mine!! All mine!!!" he cried, leaping into the air, and rushing toward a fountain by the cathedral/shack. He dipped the Grail in, took a long slow drink, and turned to face Harry.
"To my health, Harry Potter. And to your death! Avarda Kedavra!" Mordred screamed, sending a wave of green light streaming towards Harry. Harry dodged out of the curses path, and stumbled to the ground. Mordred came up and faced him.
"You fool!" he laughed. You didn't actually think I'd let you live, did you? Say hello to your parents for me!" And he raised his wand.
Harry grinned back. "You didn't think I'd give you the real grave, did you?" he said with a small laugh. His fingers grasped whatever was in his satchel. He pulled out the true Grail. A bright light poured from it, like a river of sunlight. Mordred screamed in pain, and reeled backwards. Harry was muttering under his breath. "The power of the Grail resides in what you believe. I believe in truth. I believe in love. I believe in Arthur and Camelot. I BELIEVE IN HERMIONE!!" he cried, bringing the Grail to face the gravestones. "Guardians of the Grail! You were willing to give your lives for this Cup. Come to my aid!!!"
A ripple went through the graveyard, as if a gong had gone off underground. Grave after grave began to shake, revealing…Men. Not skeletons, not ghosts, but fully clothed men. Some carried swords. Some carried lances and shields. Many had untidy black hair and knobbly knees. And in the lead was a tall man with long gray hair, no longer fatigued, but a great king in command of a powerful force. Arthur had returned.
"For the honor!" Arthur yelled, and pulled a sword from his scabbard. A brilliant light shone from his sword. His knights followed suit, until the entire courtyard was bathed in light. Mordred was panicking, falling back, looking for a place to hide. He drew his sword, and sliced at the first knight to approach him. The knight fell, but as soon as he hit the ground, he was back up again, and had rejoined the fight.
Harry saw Arthur come forward. His sword flashing, he sliced at Mordred. He blocked it, but the Arthur's sword sliced through it like butter. Mordred punched, swung wildly, still trying to somehow defeat the army that had formed against him, but he was surrounded. Harry saw Arthur's sword slice into Mordred, but it left no visible sign of harm. But Mordred screamed as if he had been run through. He fell to the ground, spitting and cursing, his eyes blazing red. "There will always be a Voldemort!" he cried. Arthur brought the sword down, leaving a blinding light across Mordred's neck, and he fell to the ground. His eyes went dark.
"Your Time is up." Harry murmured.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Inside the Cathedral, Benedicto, heard the raging battle outside. He cut the ropes binding Hermione to the cross, and led her outside, pressing his long knife into her pale throat.
"One move towards me, any of you, and I swear I will take this girl with me to the other side!" He pressed his knife further into Hermione's throat to prove his point. Arthur, Harry and the rest of the knights flinched, and dropped their weapons.
"You may have been able to defeat Mordred, but you are all helpless to stop me!" he cried. "Trusting you fates to a young boy and his foolish damsel. I'm surprised you made it this far!"
"I'm no damsel!" cried Hermione suddenly, letting her elbow slam backwards into Malfoy's gut. Malfoy, taken completely by surprise, dropped his knife and doubled over. She lashed out a foot, knocking his head sideways, and he fell to the stony ground, knocked senseless. "I'm no damsel," she repeated.
"I'm a witch."
* * * * * * * * * * * *
The end? I think not!!!! One more chapter and an epilogue to come! In the meantime, you see that little button directly beneath me? The one that says Review? Please click it!!!! I wanna hear from you!!!!!!! Long live the exclamation point!!!!!!
Chapter 14: The Graves of Avalon
The light shining from the eyes of the angel was a golden brown, and the eyes never blinked. Harry Potter followed the eyes of the angel, waiting for a sign of reaching their destination. It was now dark night, and the air and water surrounding Harry's boat were icy cold. But Harry was determined. He had been in this boat, following the angel from Hermione's ring for the past four hours. And, if the need be, he would stay in the boat forever.
There was no sign of any land. The last land Harry had seen was on the shore of the Hogwarts Lake. He saw Merlin enchanting the boat and the water. The boat suddenly sped up to speeds faster than a motorboat, and the water of the Lake misted over. Harry had seen Merlin disappear into the fog, and had seen the boat reappear in a vast ocean. Wherever he was now, the storm was over, the stars were out, and the angel seemed to know where it was going.
Then, a swirl of mist engulfed Harry. He lost all bearing. He could barely see the eyes of the Angel, flitting back and forth, as if confused. It came back to the boat, spinning in place, emitting a whirring sound. And out of the mist came the sound of waves on a beach. Harry saw land suddenly emerge from the mist before him. And what a land it was.
A large, barren rock rose up out of the water. The stones were craggy, and in some places had rough steps hewn into them. And everywhere on the island, crosses were clearly visible. Some looked old and weather- beaten. Others looked as if they were freshly hewn. And in the middle of the island, Harry saw a cross that was pearly white, and looked as if it were still being etched. Pieces of it were still flying off, as if invisible hands were carving the stone. Harry knew that it had to be Arthur's grave. The magic in the air was tangible, but there was also a distinct reverence. It was as if in this place, the world of God and man became one among the gravestones.
And there, on the highest ledge on the island, was a small hut, with patches over the windows and a small cross, nailed crudely over the door.
Harry leapt off of the boat and whispered "Reverto" to the angel, which flew back into the ring Harry wore. He climbed up the stairs to the chapel/hut, scanning around for a sign of Mordred, Hermione, or Malfoy. He reached the door of the hut and entered.
Harry found himself not in a hut, but an immense cathedral. Along the walls were stained glass windows depicting scenes from the Bible, next to pictures of heroes fighting dragons, making cauldrons, and even one of what looked strangely like a man making a Sorcerer's Stone. Above him, Harry saw a vast mural covering the arch of the ceiling. On one side of the ceiling, there was a vast expanse of grassy plains, with wounded knights having their wounds dressed by angels, and resting by streams. The other side depicted a scene out of Harry's nightmares. The clouds were dark, and thousands of dark robed figures stood holding swords, their cloaks swaying in a hard wind. The scene also included those in punishment, with agony so profound that he could almost hear it. They were also all moving. One of the saints near the front saluted him, while many of his compatriots were too busy with their own personal struggle to notice the young man in their midst. Harry noticed, to his surprise, that many of the heroes had messy black hair, and a few others had red hair and startlingly green eyes. He felt in the presence of family for the first time since he saw his parents rise out of the wand in the graveyard, facing Voldemort.
But family was not the only presence in the room. He looked to the altar, and saw, tied to the base of the cross, Hermione. She looked terrified, and kept muttering to herself, closing her eyes. Harry knew what this was. He had been doing the same for the hours in the boat. He had been telling himself, over and over, that she would be all right, and that he would save her in time. She was keeping hope.
"Hermione!!" Harry cried racing forward. Her eyes snapped open, and a wide smile beamed across her face. Then her face began to darken, like a balloon deflating. "Harry, look out! It's a trap!"
Harry turned and saw Benedicto and Mordred coming toward him, wands raised.
"Careful, Potter," drawled Malfoy. "There's no Time of Sanctuary to save you this time." He strolled up to Hermione, and stuck the knife next to her throat. "Now just be a good boy, and give my master the Grail!"
Mordred motioned for Harry to follow him outside, into the graveyard. "This is a most opportune place to die, Potter. Arthur was too foolish to save him self, and look where it got him." Mordred placed his hand on the freshly hewn headstone. "Man, thou art dust, and to dust thou shalt return!" he cried. "Give me the Grail, Potter!"
Harry reached into the satchel he carried at his hip, hesitated, sighed, and pulled out the cup. Mordred laughed, a high, insane laugh, and snatched the cup from Harry's hands.
"It's mine!! All mine!!!" he cried, leaping into the air, and rushing toward a fountain by the cathedral/shack. He dipped the Grail in, took a long slow drink, and turned to face Harry.
"To my health, Harry Potter. And to your death! Avarda Kedavra!" Mordred screamed, sending a wave of green light streaming towards Harry. Harry dodged out of the curses path, and stumbled to the ground. Mordred came up and faced him.
"You fool!" he laughed. You didn't actually think I'd let you live, did you? Say hello to your parents for me!" And he raised his wand.
Harry grinned back. "You didn't think I'd give you the real grave, did you?" he said with a small laugh. His fingers grasped whatever was in his satchel. He pulled out the true Grail. A bright light poured from it, like a river of sunlight. Mordred screamed in pain, and reeled backwards. Harry was muttering under his breath. "The power of the Grail resides in what you believe. I believe in truth. I believe in love. I believe in Arthur and Camelot. I BELIEVE IN HERMIONE!!" he cried, bringing the Grail to face the gravestones. "Guardians of the Grail! You were willing to give your lives for this Cup. Come to my aid!!!"
A ripple went through the graveyard, as if a gong had gone off underground. Grave after grave began to shake, revealing…Men. Not skeletons, not ghosts, but fully clothed men. Some carried swords. Some carried lances and shields. Many had untidy black hair and knobbly knees. And in the lead was a tall man with long gray hair, no longer fatigued, but a great king in command of a powerful force. Arthur had returned.
"For the honor!" Arthur yelled, and pulled a sword from his scabbard. A brilliant light shone from his sword. His knights followed suit, until the entire courtyard was bathed in light. Mordred was panicking, falling back, looking for a place to hide. He drew his sword, and sliced at the first knight to approach him. The knight fell, but as soon as he hit the ground, he was back up again, and had rejoined the fight.
Harry saw Arthur come forward. His sword flashing, he sliced at Mordred. He blocked it, but the Arthur's sword sliced through it like butter. Mordred punched, swung wildly, still trying to somehow defeat the army that had formed against him, but he was surrounded. Harry saw Arthur's sword slice into Mordred, but it left no visible sign of harm. But Mordred screamed as if he had been run through. He fell to the ground, spitting and cursing, his eyes blazing red. "There will always be a Voldemort!" he cried. Arthur brought the sword down, leaving a blinding light across Mordred's neck, and he fell to the ground. His eyes went dark.
"Your Time is up." Harry murmured.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Inside the Cathedral, Benedicto, heard the raging battle outside. He cut the ropes binding Hermione to the cross, and led her outside, pressing his long knife into her pale throat.
"One move towards me, any of you, and I swear I will take this girl with me to the other side!" He pressed his knife further into Hermione's throat to prove his point. Arthur, Harry and the rest of the knights flinched, and dropped their weapons.
"You may have been able to defeat Mordred, but you are all helpless to stop me!" he cried. "Trusting you fates to a young boy and his foolish damsel. I'm surprised you made it this far!"
"I'm no damsel!" cried Hermione suddenly, letting her elbow slam backwards into Malfoy's gut. Malfoy, taken completely by surprise, dropped his knife and doubled over. She lashed out a foot, knocking his head sideways, and he fell to the stony ground, knocked senseless. "I'm no damsel," she repeated.
"I'm a witch."
* * * * * * * * * * * *
The end? I think not!!!! One more chapter and an epilogue to come! In the meantime, you see that little button directly beneath me? The one that says Review? Please click it!!!! I wanna hear from you!!!!!!! Long live the exclamation point!!!!!!