Chapter Two – Training
By Kateen
Harry trained vigorously for four weeks, doing almost exactly what he was told – only playing pranks when he got bored, and normally Sabina was bored too, so it didn't matter. The first time was in his History of Magic class: He'd sent a magical water balloon towards her, invisibly of course, and it had popped on her head, resulting in Harry being chased around the entire castle for hours.
His classes were far more interesting than they had been at Hogwarts, for one, Sabina didn't lecture – she explained. History of Magic included Harry being allowed to delve into memories that she had, and she showed him many of the events first hand. He couldn't have forgotten any of it if he tried.
Transfiguration involved less note taking and more transfiguring, the same with charms, and when they began inter-personal transformations, she created a third person who lived with them for a few days while they both practiced on him. Potions was interesting, because he didn't lose points or get detention – there was no Snape.
His other classes were amazing. None of it was easy and he was exhausted and bruised beyond belief at the end of each day, but he was having the time of his life. He ate what he wanted, and his room was his own. If he didn't want to stay, he could leave, but he liked it, and he wasn't leaving. Until that fateful day…
"Harry!" Sabina called, as he walked into the library. It was a Sunday afternoon, the only time he had to himself. He'd decided to research a new hex he wanted to be able to use on Sabina the next time they dueled.
"Yes?" he turned to face her.
"I just wanted to say congratulations. You've finished the first aspect of your training."
"What's the second?"
"You need to put your hand on the crystal stone in your bedroom and you will be taken to it. When it is finished, you will be sent back to me by touching the stone. Take it with you, and be safe."
"What is the aspect?" he asked, again.
"I'm not exactly sure," she lied, "but you are the first to have done it in a thousand years."
He sighed, when she got like that there was no getting an answer from her, "when do I have to go?"
"As soon as possible, if you want to be back at Hogwarts before term starts."
Harry stared at the stone in front of him, he'd done some research about it at the beginning of the holiday, in the library, and had discovered that it was the stone of the Paths. He'd then looked up 'the Paths' and found that they were an ancient form of travel, to a place or time that needed help of some kind.
The Paths could not be controlled by anyone, they controlled everything and they did their best to make sure that the light and dark existed in harmony over the years. He wondered how Sabina could be sure that he would be taken to the right place. He knew that there was one person who had a reasonable amount of control over the Paths; The Guardian. That person could control roughly where and when they appeared in a place. The Paths called to them, a sense that they couldn't help, pulled them towards it.
Surely he wasn't the Guardian. He couldn't control something as major as the Paths – it was not his destiny. His destiny was fighting the Dark Lords time and again as he tried to turn the world to the path of the light.
He placed his hand on the stone, and felt it heat against his touch, not burning him, but warming him. It turned a golden white color and he felt calm and confident that he was doing the right thing. He picked it up, "I wonder if this will work…"
Ugh, Harry rolled over and got prickles through his arm. He sighed and stood up. Obviously it had worked, or he would still be in his room holding the glowing stone. It was in his pocket, but he didn't want to touch it, for some strange reason, he stood up slowly, opening his eyes as he did and was greeted by a pale white face leaning over him.
"Argh!" he gasped, scrambling backwards, recognizing a Vampire, "Who are you?" he asked weakly.
"My name is Argorn, who are you that can speak the tongue?"
"Speak the, what?" Harry asked, "the… tongue?"
"Aye, who are you that speaks my language – that of the undead. No mere mortal could speak that language."
"I… I don't know why," Harry said quietly, "I speak many languages, but have learnt none. I am Harry Potter."
"Harry Potter – I have not heard of you. You cannot be very important in our world," the Vampire leaned forwards to bite Harry.
"No!" Harry snapped, "Don't. I am not a normal witch or wizard," he snarled "I am quite capable of defending myself against the likes of you. Do not make me kill you."
He held his arms defensively, and felt a strange warmth filling him again, and then the Vampire blinked, "You're right, Harry Potter, I apologize. I will not hurt you." Harry nodded slowly, not speaking, and the Vampire – Argorn, continued, "I will show you a place where you will be safe."
The Vampire then began to glide silently over the ground, away from Harry, who scrambled up and followed him at what he judged to be a safe distance. They walked for hours, until finally they stopped for something to eat. The Vampire searched out for something that he could enjoy, and Harry went the other way to find something he could enjoy.
Until he heard a high-pitched, panicked, screech. He turned and ran, he didn't know why, only that he had to find out what was causing the screeching sound and help it! He followed the sound, until it stopped, and then he followed his gut instincts. Finally, he reached a clearing, and stopped dead when he saw what was happening in the middle of it.
Argorn was being tied to the single tree that was in the middle, and an older-looking vampire was laughing mockingly at him. Harry groaned, now he was going to have to save the Vampire. He did, after all, have a life debt to him because the Vampire hadn't bitten him when he'd found Harry.
"Oy!" Harry shouted at the Vampire, "Oy, Ugly!"
The old vampire turned, "are you speaking to me?" he asked politely.
"Who the hell did you think I was talking to?"
"Uhh," he stopped a moment in thought, obviously this was a stupid Vampire, finally, thinking he was extremely clever, he turned to Argorn, "Him!" he laughed evilly.
Harry smirked scornfully, "Oh, please," he sneered, "that took far too long for you to be even a remotely decent opponent."
"So fight me. Prove your strength by defeating me. The winner can have that dirtbag!" the Vampire gargled with glee, and Argorn blanched. "So," the Vampire continued, "will you do it, or will you back off like a coward?"
Now, those are fighting words for any true alpha-male, but Harry took a few moments – as Sabina had taught him – and thought about it. He would be entering in a duel with an older person and one who had probably been a wizard once before. Would he be able to come out of it successfully? He was almost definite. Should he duel anyway? Yes.
"I'll do it."
"Who are you?" a boy, of roughly the same age as Harry, asked.
"Harry, and who are you?" Harry asked kindly, in return.
"Garma," the boy said, his crystal clear blue eyes twinkling like Dumbledore's used to, "and this," he said, pointing to the girl beside him, "Is my older sister, Mimosa,"
"Hi," she smiled sweetly, "what tribe are you from?"
"Umm," Harry frowned, "I'm not sure. I…" he thought for a moment, and decided to pretend, "I don't remember anything."
"Oh," the boy seemed disappointed, "well, you'd better come with us then. Our… um… tribe… will look after you until you are well again. You can join it forever if you'd like, but you have to prove yourself."
Harry smiled at them. He'd easily defeated the Vampire, and then had hunted with Argorn for a while, but had been injured by one of the victims and knocked unconscious. The two children had found him out cold on the ground, wrapped under warm leaves. They'd woken him magically, and he was beginning to feel a little better, "thank you," he said simply, standing and walking with them.
The girl, allowed him to climb onto her horse, which was standing a few yards off, watching him anxiously, "Where are we?" he asked. She frowned for a few moments.
"Well, we're in Ramehtana, the Jungle south of Nordeslaar."
"No," he laughed, "what country?"
"Country?" she asked, the word sounding foreign on her lips, "I do not know this word. What is it."
Suddenly Harry had a very strange, sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. The Stone of the Paths could take one back or forwards in time, at the combined will of his own and it's power. Had there been something in him wanting to come back in time? He frowned and pulled out his wand, examining it for damage. Finally, he pointed it at the ground, "Vu-us datum und pacientem!" he shouted quietly.
It was a useful spell that Sabina had taught him a while back, to make sure he could always find out when and where he was. He'd laughed and asked why would he ever need it, but now he was somewhat grateful
Harry Potter, 4th August 986 AD
Ramehtana Forest, Nordeslaaren
He stared at the page, Oh dear, he sighed quietly to himself. Now what had he been pushed into? Time travel! What on earth would Sabina say? NO, scratch that, what would Sirius say? What would Dumbledore say? Actually, that was quite easy – enjoy yourself, and be careful.
"Harry, are you alright?" Garma asked worriedly, "you look very pale."
"I just got a big shock," he said quietly, in answer to the boys question, "but please, when there is time for stories and the like, I will explain as best I can."
Mimosa and Garma walked alongside Harry who they said was too badly injured to walk and, as they only had one horse, he rode. He learnt from them that at sixteen, you got your own horse, which was why Garma didn't have one, and Mimosa did. He smiled when he heard that they, too, learnt magic in a similar way to himself and his old friends, "We have a few large schools where I come from," he said, "perhaps one day you will see them for yourself."
They nodded, surprised. Harry had been quite amiable and they were beginning to like the strange boy, with his lightening shaped scar and quick sense of humor, but they did realize that he wasn't a normal boy. His personality did not naturally lend itself to friendships and openness, and they realized that immediately, but then, he realized the same thing about them and felt comfortable with the realization.
When the neared the end of the forest, a man clothed in black robes with a silver embroidery around the edge stood up, "Mimosa, Garma, where have you been? Who is that?"
"We found him deep in the Ramehtana. He is badly injured. I think he is like us, though."
The man nodded and, with a wave of his hand, Harry was strapped to a stretcher-like plank of wood, floating in front of the three others. Something told him there were more than those three, but he hadn't seen them, nor had they spoken. He assumed they were busy.
"Hey!" Garma howled, "How come he gets a stretcher, Souvi? That means the Healer's centre! That's not fair!"
"It's perfectly fair, brat," the man, Souvi, replied with a sneer, "he is not, as yet, one of you. He therefore isn't subjected to the absolute brutality that I can treat you lot with."
"Obviously," Mimosa sulked.
Harry, however, had hardly been listening. He hated being immobile, and being strapped firmly to a plank of wood was not a great way of moving. He didn't care if it was for his own good, it was like placing a claustrophobic person in a lift, and then leaving them – saying it would get them over their fear.
The straps snapped, as bolts of lightening from the sky burned across his body. Harry stood up again, "I think I'll walk, but thank you for your help," he said politely.
Souvi sneered, "you need medical attention," something akin to fear burning in the back of his shuttered eyes. Harry was surprised, but at the same time a feeling of triumph rose.
"Yes," he agreed, "I do. I will walk, however, as I have no great desire to be tied up, however convenient it might be for you."
"Who are you, that dares to speak to me, Souvi – a Mage of the 2nd class, as a commoner?"
"Me? I am, among other things, the Midnight Unicorn," Harry responded politely, "I did not mean any disrespect, but have a phobia of being immobile. I have not yet completed my training and was sent here by the Paths to complete the final aspect."
The man nodded, calmer now that they had cleared up the little, "Yes, you are one of the three. You must come with us, back to the Castle. We will explain there." He began to walk, and there was a high pitched whistle which caused Harry to clutch his hands over his ears.
"Do you hear it?" the man asked excitedly.
Harry could only nod dumbly, "yes."
"Excellent," Souvi smiled, "you are definitely one of us."
"Harry," an elderly man said, behind him. Harry whirled around, to find a white haired, long bearded, blue eyed man – a lot like Dumbledore to look at, but he had an air of suppressed power, stronger even than Dumbledore, and wiser.
"Yes?" Harry answered guardedly.
"I understand you were sent here by the Paths. Is that true?"
"Yes," Harry nodded briefly.
"And a woman; Sabina?"
Harry's eyes widened and then shuttered, "yes."
"You are the third of the three we have been waiting for!" the man smiled finally, and patted Harry's shoulder, "You must be truly a powerful wizard. Come with me. I will take you to the Healing Centre, and we will talk while you are healed."
The man held an air of authority that Harry neither wanted, nor dared, to disobey. He followed at a respectable distance, and the rustle of his pants, against the cold marble floors was the only sound he made while walking. The other man was quieter again, despite his billowing robes, he made not a sound, walking purposefully and confidently, never scuffing his toes or stumbling. It was as though he glided over the floor rather than walked.
When they reached a violet colored door, the man held it open for Harry who scurried inside and was met by a site similar to that of the Hogwarts Hospital Wing – hundreds of beds lined up against the wall, hundreds of potions stored in cabinets, and thousands of herbs hanging to dry, or being crushed by magical pumices.
The biggest difference was that every bed was occupied, and it was a hive of activity. There were plenty of nurses hurrying exhaustedly between beds, doling out medicines and talking kindly to the patients. One of them came rushing over to Harry and the old man, when she caught sight of them, "Grand Master, how can I help you?"
"This boy, Harry, has suffered from some serious injuries. Can you heal him so that he can begin the trials."
She smiled kindly at Harry who was looking a little bit nervous, "of course. Don't worry, Harry, it really won't take a minute, and then you can do the trials," she looked him over, taking in the burn marks around his chest, and the blood stains all over his neck and back, "what on earth have you been doing to give you these marks if you haven't done your trials yet?" she tutted.
Harry blushed, "hunting with Vampires."
The older man, who she'd addressed as Grand Master looked at him piercingly, and Harry met his gaze, "with Vampires, or for Vampires?"
"Both," Harry shrugged, "some of the older Vampires were fearful of the younger ones, who are far more foolish and could become a threat to all of us."
The nurse finished wiping down his neck, and then gasped, "oh my," she murmured, "you've been bitten!"
"Have I?" Harry asked, looking unconcerned, "I don't recall being close enough to a Vampire to actually get bitten. It must have been a spider, or a snake. They have the same bite shape."
She nodded, and pointed a wand at his neck. After a few minutes she nodded, "a Spider. Although, how you didn't realize is beyond me. It must have been huge!"
He laughed, "I've always been a bit of a mystery."
"Harry," the older man said, "I am Har-i-Shuhen, Grand Master Mage. You have heard of Mages before?"
Nodding, Harry recited the little he knew, "Mages are among the most powerfully magical humans, with the exception of War Mages. In those groups, there are divisions, and a Grand Master Mage is close to equal with a trained War Mage. The Grand Master War Mage's are rare, and exceedingly powerful."
Har-i-Shuhen nodded, "that is right. I am the most powerful Mage in the world at the moment, but there is a team of War Magi coming here in the near future. As the third of the three, we have a good idea of who you will be trained by, but both I and the Master War Mage will test you, to see which you are most suited for."
"Master War Mage, is there a Grand Master War Mage currently?" he asked.
"No. The Master, is close to achieving that level of skill, but was not gifted with that much power at birth, and it will kill him. He must find the true Grand Master very soon."
"Oh," Harry nodded, and then realized that another thought had crossed his mind, "Sir, I was wondering, what do you mean when you talk of the three? How can I be one of them. With all due respect, I am from a different time and place."
The Grand Master laughed, not just a short chuckle, but a full on fit of laughter, "Harry, the three are the three Grand Master Magi, of the present, near future, and far future. They are sent to us to be recognized and trained appropriately. There are problems in the future for our kind, and so we prepare the future generations before they've been born.
"The three of you may be War Magi, or you may be Magi like us. It depends very much on your outcome in the trials. You will complete your normal trials tonight, and that will determine whether you will be trained by us, or by others."
Harry nodded, "can I please have something to eat, first?" he asked, "only-"
"No need to explain, boy," the man smiled jovially, "let's go roust out those elves and get some grub!"
Blinking, Harry followed, this was not what he would have expected for a Grand Master Mage to be like. He was impressed though, and hoped that all of them would be like this. He knew, however, that they wouldn't be – that was obvious from the tired and wary faces of the other teenagers he'd seen around the castle.
"Now, Harry," the Grand Master spoke, "we have the Master War Mage here, he and I will watch you through the obstacle course that we call the trials and then decide on your future. Is that acceptable?"
Harry nodded, "I would like reasons why you make whatever choice you make," he said politely.