The Greater Good
by Kiana Unei
Harry and his world belong to J K Rowling.
Chapter XI: Yzix
"Ouch!" Harry hadn't thought about what the landing would be like when he'd slipped into the trap door; his mind had been preoccupied with getting out of the path of the crushing block. The floor was only about two metres below the higher level, but it wasn't exactly soft.
Groaning, Harry stood, and fumbled in one of the pockets of his robe for the light. In moments the darkness was replaced by a dim, yellowish glow, and Harry felt the icy hand of fear return.
Skulls. The room was littered with skulls, and the skeletal remains of victims past. Carved into the rocky wall on all sides were a honeycomb of niches, each possessing the mumified wrapings of some long dead corpse. He had found the catacombs.
Mustering his courage, the boy started forward again, being careful to avoid stepping on any of the time-bleached bones. What had killed them?
Harry examined a few of the skulls, and found them perfectly intact- the same with the other bones. No wounds, no unusual breaks, no teeth marks. As far as he could tell, the owners of the skeletons had simply decided to drop dead.
Avada Kedavera? The killing curse left no trace of a reason for death. Harry shivered, and not only because of the distinctly chilly air.
He raised the light higher, trying to see as much of his surroundings as possible- FLASH! A brilliantly coloured spectrem of light illuminated the catacombs for a single fraction of a second, making Harry double up, shielding his eyes from the insinsity.
Blinking away large purplish splotches floating before his vision, Harry tenitively raised the light again, looking for the source of the flash.
This time he saw it- the Ankh. The Crest of Isis, a beautifully carved artifact from a long gone age, inlaid with diamonds, and set into a pedistal of blue fire.
As soon as the light toutched it, the dim flame intinsified, rising into a pillar nearly twenty metres tall, and filling the chambre with an eerie blue light. Harry put away his glowsphere, and started towards his prize, heart beating very fast.
But how to get to it?
Skeeeesssst.
Harry froze, watching as the flames directly before him seemed to mould into the shape of a woman's face.
WHAT WILL YOU GIVE? The voice seemed to bubble up within his consiousness. Harry's eyes widened, staring at the face with mingled curiosity and fear. WHY DO YOU SEEK TO HARNESS THE SPIRITS OF THE DEAD?
"I- I . . ." he stumbled for words, and finally managed, "I th- thought Isis was the goddess of- "
ISIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS. DID YOU MISTAKE ISIS FOR YZIX? BOTH ARE PRONOUNCED THE SAME.
"Er . . ." Harry didn't know what to say. He had been told that this was the crest of Isis; he hadn't the faintest who Yzix was.
STUPID MORTAL.
"Hey!" Harry snapped, "It's not my fault! The Minister of Defence and that Wesson guy told me to get 'the Crest of Isis' from here or they'd kill my godfather." He felt a cold pass through his heart at the ideas of what they'd do to Sirius if he didn't return with what he was sent for.
The face seemed to pause for a moment, then, I, TOO WAS A GODDESS IN THE LAND THAT WOULD ONE DAY BE KNOWN AS EGYPT. FEW KNOW ME, I WAS OLDER, EVEN, THAN THE GREAT NILE. WHEN THE MORTALS TURNED TO THEIR GODS, I WAS FORGOTTEN.
"I'm sorry," Harry said. Maybe if he brought back the crest of Yzix, the Ministry guys wouldn't know the difference . . .
BUT ARE YOU WORTHY?
"Huh?" He stared, wondering if she could read minds.
I CAN.
"Oh." Harry gulped, not sure what to do now. "What do you mean, 'am I worthy'?"
ARE YOU WORTHY TO OWN THE CREST?
"I don't want to own it, I just want it to free my godfather."
I SEE. BUT TO TAKE IT FROM ITS RESTING PLACE, YOU MUST PROVE YOURSELF.
"How?"
The face's firey lips curled upwards in a chilling smile.
* * *
"What's going on?" Sirius strode quickly towards Minister Reiton. The younger man guestured towards Azkaban, where a faint trickle of dark blue smoke was drifting lazily upwards into the afternoon sky.
"They've done it." Reiton explained, looking flushed of colour. "My God, I've warned Fudge, but he didn't listen . . . they've finally done it."
"What?" Sirius was getting annoyed with this pathetic minister. Couldn't he just get to the point? His master was never so indirect.
"The Death Eaters . . . have broken into Azkaban."
"Really?" Good. Sirius' hard eyes swept over the quickly approaching island. He fought off the urge to smile; Reiton might get suspicious of his true motives. Harry Potter was on that island. Sirius didn't give a damn about any Crest- it was Potter he wanted. The master would be pleased when he brought the boy's lifeless body to him.
Wesson watched, hiding behind a mast of the angular ship, having no idea what he'd done by casually remarking that Sirius was a Death Eater. He just needed to get that Crest, and sell it- then NeuroTech would be on its feet again.
He hoped.
The island was as uninvating as ever, but this time Sirius stepped onto its rocky shore with his head high. Maybe dear old Peter was even amoung them, little cowardly Peter who deserved to die his due thousand times. But then again, Sirius supposed, he owed Peter for giving his tattered life a new purpose. Death. The Ministry had destroyed him; perhaps now he could build his life anew in the service of the Dark Lord. His face twisted into a smile at the irony of it all.
Just inside the hard doors of the fortress, a battle raged. The guards were outnumbered, but if one of them managed to get a call off to the Ministry . . .
Sirius sprinted down the cracked steps and grabbed the nearest guard's wrist, flipping him over his own shoulder and onto the hard floor with a sickening crack. He snapped his fist into the man's face, then yanked the wand out of his hand.
"Stupify!" One guard down. Sirius turned back to the row- and spotted another guard using the edge of his baton to choke the life out of some Death Eater. Both men were without wands; Sirius supposed they had gotten lost in the confusion.
He darted over, avoiding the crossfire of hexes, and pointed his wand at the startled guard. "Stupify!"
The Death Eater struggled to his feet, pulling his mask off for a better look at his rescuer. "S-Sirius Black?"
Sirius favoured the man with a cold smile, then Stupified another guard.
"What the hell are you doing?" the Death Eater was staring at him in shock.
"Trying to save your pathetic hide." He blocked a hex thrown at him, and countered with "Obliviate!" sending chunks of rock and shrapnal falling into the path of the man.
The Auror to, had launched into the frey; Sirius took advantage of the man turning his back on him- "Stupify!" Then he turned back to the Death Eater. "Don't kill any of these men- just tie them up, or the like- I want to have a nice little chat with them about the many uses of trying people for their crimes."
"Yes, sir!" The man ran off, presumably to pass the word. Sirius turned from the battle, sprinting off down the darkened halls of Azkaban. He would make the guards pay. But now, he would find Harry Potter.
* * *
TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT. Harry froze, thinking. What he wanted? He wanted to get the Crest. He wanted Sirius to be free. He wanted Pettigrew to get caught in a mousetrap. He wanted a jumper.
TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT FROM THE CREST, the face clarified.
"Erm . . . I want to use it to trade for my godfather's life." Easy enough.
YOU DON'T WANT TO BRING YOUR PARENTS BACK TO LIFE?
"What?!" Harry stared at the face, not sure what the feeling that welled up inside his heart was.
WITH THE CREST, YOU CAN HARNESS THE POWERS OF THE SPIRIT WORLD. I TOLD YOU THAT.
Harry felt numb all over. He sat down, looking up at the pillar of cold flame. His parents. "You mean I- I could bring them back to life? And they'd be okay?" He was trembling, but didn't really care.
THEY WOULD BE AS THEY WERE THE MOMENT BEFORE THEY DIED- PERFECTLY FINE. THEY WOULD BE AS THOUGH THEY HAD JUMPED FOURTEEN YEARS INTO THE FUTURE.
"What's the catch?" There had to be a catch- it seemed too good to be true.
THAT DEPENDS ON WHAT YOU'RE WILLING TO GIVE. The face's smile deepened.
"L-like what?" He'd give anything- well, almost anything. If he gave his life, having his parents back would be useless to him.
AN ARM? A FINGER? A FRIEND?
"Not a friend. I won't let someone die just because of me." Harry fixed his face into a stubborn look, glaring at the fire. "I'll give my . . . my fourtune. All my money in Gringotts. And my- "
WHAT USE HAVE I FOR GOLD? YOU'RE A GOOD BOY, THOUGH. YOU HAVE A GOOD HEART. I'LL SETTLE FOR YOUR HUMANITY.
"What? No! I don't want to be evil!" Dispite his better and worse judgement, Harry threw one of the skulls lieing about at the face. The thing paused for a tick in the centre of the flames, its empty eye sockets staring out at him, illuminated from within.
The face seemed to tilt upwards, looking at something.
"What?" Harry asked, looking around.
THERE IS A MAN COMMING.
"Who?" Sirius? Harry's heart lept. Sirius could help him figure this out.
KNOTTED, SHOULDER-LENGTH BLACK HAIR, WHITE TUNIC, BROWN ROBES.
"Sirius!" The discription of his hair was a dead giveaway. But his clotheing . . . had Sirius somehow found a new outfit?
DO YOU LIKE SIRIUS?
"Yes! He's my godfather." Harry said happily. Sirius had escaped from his cell.
HE IS GOING TO DIE.
"WHAT?! No!" Harry punched at the face, and felt a rush of prickling pain crawl up the nerves of his arm.
THAT WAS VERY, VERY STUPID, BOY. I MEANT BECAUSE OF THE FIRST TRAP, NOT BECAUSE OF ME.
"Oh!" Harry turned away from the flame, sprinting back the length of the room to the spot underneith the trap door, not caring if he crushed any of the old skulls. "SIRIUS! Sirius! Down here! There's a trap door!" His voice cracked; Harry had to pause breifly to calm down. "Sirius! There's a trap door! You have to sorta find it! Trap door!"
He waited, listening. Sure enough, the faint sound of scratching could be heard, followed after a few moments by the grating sound of rock upon rock. Then a thump, and, "OW! Shit!" and Sirius dropped to the floor in a heep, massaging his stomach.
Harry rushed forward and hugged his godfather around the neck. "That trap door got me in the gut, too," he said, wincing from memories.
Sirius stiffened under Harry's toutch, then, slowly, tousled the boy's hair. "Hiya, kiddo." The hatred he had felt since meeting up with Wesson in his room slowly faded; Potter had saved his life even when Sirius was going to kill him. The idea made him feel strange, somehow. He was going to make the Ministry pay for his years of tourment, but to save Harry Potter was to deny the Dark Lord. Then again, Voldemort never had specifically told him to kill the boy. And he only wanted to join the legions of the Dark for revenge, which he could carry out anyway.
He picked Harry up, looked around, and nearly dropped him. "What the hell is that?"
"The gold thingy is the Crest of Yzix, the fire is a lady-face- thing," Harry explained, and buried his face against Sirius' matted hair, suddenly very tired.
I AM THE GATE KEEPER OF THE NETHERWORLD.
"What do you want?" Sirius asked. The face shifted, staring at him as though this question had not been asked before.
After a moment, it spoke, softly, FREEDOM.
A/N: Okay! Um, I'll try to get the next chapter up today, too. Stupid Wesson, just the kind of thing he'd do, mistaking goddesses. But while Isis is the goddess of fertility, Yzix is the primordial goddess of darkness, shadow, the unknown, the dead, the netherworld; that sort of thing.
by Kiana Unei
Harry and his world belong to J K Rowling.
Chapter XI: Yzix
"Ouch!" Harry hadn't thought about what the landing would be like when he'd slipped into the trap door; his mind had been preoccupied with getting out of the path of the crushing block. The floor was only about two metres below the higher level, but it wasn't exactly soft.
Groaning, Harry stood, and fumbled in one of the pockets of his robe for the light. In moments the darkness was replaced by a dim, yellowish glow, and Harry felt the icy hand of fear return.
Skulls. The room was littered with skulls, and the skeletal remains of victims past. Carved into the rocky wall on all sides were a honeycomb of niches, each possessing the mumified wrapings of some long dead corpse. He had found the catacombs.
Mustering his courage, the boy started forward again, being careful to avoid stepping on any of the time-bleached bones. What had killed them?
Harry examined a few of the skulls, and found them perfectly intact- the same with the other bones. No wounds, no unusual breaks, no teeth marks. As far as he could tell, the owners of the skeletons had simply decided to drop dead.
Avada Kedavera? The killing curse left no trace of a reason for death. Harry shivered, and not only because of the distinctly chilly air.
He raised the light higher, trying to see as much of his surroundings as possible- FLASH! A brilliantly coloured spectrem of light illuminated the catacombs for a single fraction of a second, making Harry double up, shielding his eyes from the insinsity.
Blinking away large purplish splotches floating before his vision, Harry tenitively raised the light again, looking for the source of the flash.
This time he saw it- the Ankh. The Crest of Isis, a beautifully carved artifact from a long gone age, inlaid with diamonds, and set into a pedistal of blue fire.
As soon as the light toutched it, the dim flame intinsified, rising into a pillar nearly twenty metres tall, and filling the chambre with an eerie blue light. Harry put away his glowsphere, and started towards his prize, heart beating very fast.
But how to get to it?
Skeeeesssst.
Harry froze, watching as the flames directly before him seemed to mould into the shape of a woman's face.
WHAT WILL YOU GIVE? The voice seemed to bubble up within his consiousness. Harry's eyes widened, staring at the face with mingled curiosity and fear. WHY DO YOU SEEK TO HARNESS THE SPIRITS OF THE DEAD?
"I- I . . ." he stumbled for words, and finally managed, "I th- thought Isis was the goddess of- "
ISIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS. DID YOU MISTAKE ISIS FOR YZIX? BOTH ARE PRONOUNCED THE SAME.
"Er . . ." Harry didn't know what to say. He had been told that this was the crest of Isis; he hadn't the faintest who Yzix was.
STUPID MORTAL.
"Hey!" Harry snapped, "It's not my fault! The Minister of Defence and that Wesson guy told me to get 'the Crest of Isis' from here or they'd kill my godfather." He felt a cold pass through his heart at the ideas of what they'd do to Sirius if he didn't return with what he was sent for.
The face seemed to pause for a moment, then, I, TOO WAS A GODDESS IN THE LAND THAT WOULD ONE DAY BE KNOWN AS EGYPT. FEW KNOW ME, I WAS OLDER, EVEN, THAN THE GREAT NILE. WHEN THE MORTALS TURNED TO THEIR GODS, I WAS FORGOTTEN.
"I'm sorry," Harry said. Maybe if he brought back the crest of Yzix, the Ministry guys wouldn't know the difference . . .
BUT ARE YOU WORTHY?
"Huh?" He stared, wondering if she could read minds.
I CAN.
"Oh." Harry gulped, not sure what to do now. "What do you mean, 'am I worthy'?"
ARE YOU WORTHY TO OWN THE CREST?
"I don't want to own it, I just want it to free my godfather."
I SEE. BUT TO TAKE IT FROM ITS RESTING PLACE, YOU MUST PROVE YOURSELF.
"How?"
The face's firey lips curled upwards in a chilling smile.
* * *
"What's going on?" Sirius strode quickly towards Minister Reiton. The younger man guestured towards Azkaban, where a faint trickle of dark blue smoke was drifting lazily upwards into the afternoon sky.
"They've done it." Reiton explained, looking flushed of colour. "My God, I've warned Fudge, but he didn't listen . . . they've finally done it."
"What?" Sirius was getting annoyed with this pathetic minister. Couldn't he just get to the point? His master was never so indirect.
"The Death Eaters . . . have broken into Azkaban."
"Really?" Good. Sirius' hard eyes swept over the quickly approaching island. He fought off the urge to smile; Reiton might get suspicious of his true motives. Harry Potter was on that island. Sirius didn't give a damn about any Crest- it was Potter he wanted. The master would be pleased when he brought the boy's lifeless body to him.
Wesson watched, hiding behind a mast of the angular ship, having no idea what he'd done by casually remarking that Sirius was a Death Eater. He just needed to get that Crest, and sell it- then NeuroTech would be on its feet again.
He hoped.
The island was as uninvating as ever, but this time Sirius stepped onto its rocky shore with his head high. Maybe dear old Peter was even amoung them, little cowardly Peter who deserved to die his due thousand times. But then again, Sirius supposed, he owed Peter for giving his tattered life a new purpose. Death. The Ministry had destroyed him; perhaps now he could build his life anew in the service of the Dark Lord. His face twisted into a smile at the irony of it all.
Just inside the hard doors of the fortress, a battle raged. The guards were outnumbered, but if one of them managed to get a call off to the Ministry . . .
Sirius sprinted down the cracked steps and grabbed the nearest guard's wrist, flipping him over his own shoulder and onto the hard floor with a sickening crack. He snapped his fist into the man's face, then yanked the wand out of his hand.
"Stupify!" One guard down. Sirius turned back to the row- and spotted another guard using the edge of his baton to choke the life out of some Death Eater. Both men were without wands; Sirius supposed they had gotten lost in the confusion.
He darted over, avoiding the crossfire of hexes, and pointed his wand at the startled guard. "Stupify!"
The Death Eater struggled to his feet, pulling his mask off for a better look at his rescuer. "S-Sirius Black?"
Sirius favoured the man with a cold smile, then Stupified another guard.
"What the hell are you doing?" the Death Eater was staring at him in shock.
"Trying to save your pathetic hide." He blocked a hex thrown at him, and countered with "Obliviate!" sending chunks of rock and shrapnal falling into the path of the man.
The Auror to, had launched into the frey; Sirius took advantage of the man turning his back on him- "Stupify!" Then he turned back to the Death Eater. "Don't kill any of these men- just tie them up, or the like- I want to have a nice little chat with them about the many uses of trying people for their crimes."
"Yes, sir!" The man ran off, presumably to pass the word. Sirius turned from the battle, sprinting off down the darkened halls of Azkaban. He would make the guards pay. But now, he would find Harry Potter.
* * *
TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT. Harry froze, thinking. What he wanted? He wanted to get the Crest. He wanted Sirius to be free. He wanted Pettigrew to get caught in a mousetrap. He wanted a jumper.
TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT FROM THE CREST, the face clarified.
"Erm . . . I want to use it to trade for my godfather's life." Easy enough.
YOU DON'T WANT TO BRING YOUR PARENTS BACK TO LIFE?
"What?!" Harry stared at the face, not sure what the feeling that welled up inside his heart was.
WITH THE CREST, YOU CAN HARNESS THE POWERS OF THE SPIRIT WORLD. I TOLD YOU THAT.
Harry felt numb all over. He sat down, looking up at the pillar of cold flame. His parents. "You mean I- I could bring them back to life? And they'd be okay?" He was trembling, but didn't really care.
THEY WOULD BE AS THEY WERE THE MOMENT BEFORE THEY DIED- PERFECTLY FINE. THEY WOULD BE AS THOUGH THEY HAD JUMPED FOURTEEN YEARS INTO THE FUTURE.
"What's the catch?" There had to be a catch- it seemed too good to be true.
THAT DEPENDS ON WHAT YOU'RE WILLING TO GIVE. The face's smile deepened.
"L-like what?" He'd give anything- well, almost anything. If he gave his life, having his parents back would be useless to him.
AN ARM? A FINGER? A FRIEND?
"Not a friend. I won't let someone die just because of me." Harry fixed his face into a stubborn look, glaring at the fire. "I'll give my . . . my fourtune. All my money in Gringotts. And my- "
WHAT USE HAVE I FOR GOLD? YOU'RE A GOOD BOY, THOUGH. YOU HAVE A GOOD HEART. I'LL SETTLE FOR YOUR HUMANITY.
"What? No! I don't want to be evil!" Dispite his better and worse judgement, Harry threw one of the skulls lieing about at the face. The thing paused for a tick in the centre of the flames, its empty eye sockets staring out at him, illuminated from within.
The face seemed to tilt upwards, looking at something.
"What?" Harry asked, looking around.
THERE IS A MAN COMMING.
"Who?" Sirius? Harry's heart lept. Sirius could help him figure this out.
KNOTTED, SHOULDER-LENGTH BLACK HAIR, WHITE TUNIC, BROWN ROBES.
"Sirius!" The discription of his hair was a dead giveaway. But his clotheing . . . had Sirius somehow found a new outfit?
DO YOU LIKE SIRIUS?
"Yes! He's my godfather." Harry said happily. Sirius had escaped from his cell.
HE IS GOING TO DIE.
"WHAT?! No!" Harry punched at the face, and felt a rush of prickling pain crawl up the nerves of his arm.
THAT WAS VERY, VERY STUPID, BOY. I MEANT BECAUSE OF THE FIRST TRAP, NOT BECAUSE OF ME.
"Oh!" Harry turned away from the flame, sprinting back the length of the room to the spot underneith the trap door, not caring if he crushed any of the old skulls. "SIRIUS! Sirius! Down here! There's a trap door!" His voice cracked; Harry had to pause breifly to calm down. "Sirius! There's a trap door! You have to sorta find it! Trap door!"
He waited, listening. Sure enough, the faint sound of scratching could be heard, followed after a few moments by the grating sound of rock upon rock. Then a thump, and, "OW! Shit!" and Sirius dropped to the floor in a heep, massaging his stomach.
Harry rushed forward and hugged his godfather around the neck. "That trap door got me in the gut, too," he said, wincing from memories.
Sirius stiffened under Harry's toutch, then, slowly, tousled the boy's hair. "Hiya, kiddo." The hatred he had felt since meeting up with Wesson in his room slowly faded; Potter had saved his life even when Sirius was going to kill him. The idea made him feel strange, somehow. He was going to make the Ministry pay for his years of tourment, but to save Harry Potter was to deny the Dark Lord. Then again, Voldemort never had specifically told him to kill the boy. And he only wanted to join the legions of the Dark for revenge, which he could carry out anyway.
He picked Harry up, looked around, and nearly dropped him. "What the hell is that?"
"The gold thingy is the Crest of Yzix, the fire is a lady-face- thing," Harry explained, and buried his face against Sirius' matted hair, suddenly very tired.
I AM THE GATE KEEPER OF THE NETHERWORLD.
"What do you want?" Sirius asked. The face shifted, staring at him as though this question had not been asked before.
After a moment, it spoke, softly, FREEDOM.
A/N: Okay! Um, I'll try to get the next chapter up today, too. Stupid Wesson, just the kind of thing he'd do, mistaking goddesses. But while Isis is the goddess of fertility, Yzix is the primordial goddess of darkness, shadow, the unknown, the dead, the netherworld; that sort of thing.