Harry Potter and the Icons of Myth
By: souls
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Author's Note: I'm sorry if this post is a long time coming. I hope you enjoy it.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
.Harry Potter and the Icons of Myth
Chapter 17: Die Another Day, pt.2
"Nicolas reconsider."
"Minerva, this job is best left to the young. The job of Head of School has fallen to you. You'll do fine, besides I have more pressing business elsewhere. I will however be taking Fawkes and Albus' notes with me." Nicolas flicked his wand at the bookshelf and a stream of books and papers flew over into an open satchel. Fawkes flitted across the room and onto Nicolas' shoulder. Fawkes tugged at Nicolas' hair motioning toward his perch. "Oops! I mustn't forget that."
With another flick and swish the perch zoomed across the room and into the bag. The office looked bare without Albus' presence. Nicolas let out a cough as he choked back tears. He'd outlived so many in his lifetime that he didn't have tears for them all but Albus held a special place in his heart. He took one more glance around him and gave the new Headmistress an assuring nod. "Alright Fawkes." With that said the bird and wizard disappeared in a burst of red and gold flames leaving only a single feather behind.
~*~
-Spell Weary and Lost
Most of the burns were still visible. They'd stayed with the Belmont's for about a month before they were strong enough to leave. It would take even longer for the fractured images of their memories to fully piece themselves back together again. A few days into their trek across country the two young men remembered their names. The dark haired boy climbed up the hill pulling the fair-haired boy up beside him.
The raven-haired boy thought back to the Belmont's. He hadn't wanted to leave the way he did. They were a nice Muggle family but they had to keep moving. Harry and Draco had walked for several miles already before stopping on the outskirts of a small town.
"Draco! Do you think we should head in?" Harry's bright emerald eyes falling upon Draco. They glowed with an intensity that unsettled Draco.
"I don't know. We probably should go in after dark. That cluster of magic I sense could be Death Eaters." A line of crimson trickled down Harry's forehead. Draco ripped off a piece of his robe and threw it at Harry. "You're bleeding again Potter."
He wrapped the black strip of cloth round his head and leaned back against the tree. It seemed that he hadn't had time to gather his thoughts in a while. They hadn't heard a thing from the Wizarding World in forever. Hermione and Ron made it out he just new it, if they were dead he'd know it. If they could just make it to France they could get some help from Madam Maxime. She would be able to help them get transport back to Hogwarts somehow.
"I'll take the first watch Potter. You get some sleep." Draco watched the young Gryffindor lay back and close his eyes. It wasn't for the first time that Draco wondered how the two of them had fallen into such a buddy-buddy role. They were nowhere near being friends yet the camaraderie was there. It's nothing like a common enemy to make rivals comrades in arms. How'd that saying go again?
The enemy of my enemy is my friend.
The light disappeared as evening came. The Slytherin boy rubbed the ache from his sore muscles and sleep from his eyes before taking on his animagus form. The wolf's ears perked for any strange sounds coming from the nearby town and the ever-darkening underbrush.
Draco watched Harry sleep until he grabbed violently at his scar. *"Vaherishna!" he hissed out in one jagged gasp. Draco gave him an appraising look before shape shifting back to normal.
"Nightmare." It wasn't a question.
"Yeah. Voldemort isn't in England anymore. In my dream he was in a desert."
"We will deal with him later Potter. Right now we need to eat."
"I guess we'll have to go into the town then." The two teens skulked into the town sticking to the shadows. A quick wave of Harry's hand was enough to shatter the bulb of a nearby street lamp. That'd keep them hidden in case anyone decided to peer out their window.
It took them a while but they finally reached an old dilapidated brownstone. The windows were boarded up and what glass could be seen was dusty and dirty from many years of abuse. Harry reached letting his senses sniff around the building. It felt warm and shimmered slightly. He could tell that some enchantment had been worked upon the place before him.
Draco gave Harry a look that roughly translated to, I hope you know what you're doing. He stared back with; do you have any better ideas?
The building had an old wooden sign suspended by rusted hooks. The sign read Das Woelfe Hoehle. A bell with a long chain hung beside the door. Harry tried the doorknob and nothing happened. The door didn't budge an inch in either direction. Harry looked around carefully, waved his hand across the knob and whispered Alohamora. Again nothing happened. Frustrated Harry took a swipe at the bell's chain. The bell didn't ring but two suspiciously enormous looking eyes peered back through a slot in the door Harry swore wasn't there a minute before.
The door opened letting Draco and Harry inside. A portly man with fish bowl sized eyes and buckteeth greeted him on the other side. "May I help you gentlemen?" The stood silent before them as if expecting a name before he let them enter from the antechamber.
"Mr. Black, Vincent Black." Harry said before motioning to Draco.
"And I am Gregory Wolfe." Draco replied with in a strained voice. His hands rummaged around in his robe for money. He dropped some galleons in the man's hands before continuing. "My friend and I would like a room and some food."
The man with the fish bowl eyes showed them to an empty room that overlooked the Town Square. Fifteen minutes later the man brought up some stew, a loaf of fresh bread and a bottle of Ogden's Firewhiskey.
"Do you get the British Daily Prophet here?"
"Sure'n we do Mr. Black but it's probably a few weeks old. Not much good news coming outta Britain lately." He left and returned with a tattered copy of the Daily Prophet. "If'n that's all I'll be leaving sirs. If you need anything-just ring, I'm Yacobee Butterbur but most people call me Butterbur.
Harry quickly began looking the Daily Prophet over. The article about Dumbledore brought fresh pangs of grief to the young man. After reading that the entire Wizarding world assumed that he and the others were dead, a feeling akin to someone just walking over your grave sent a chill like ice water down his back. As the thought of sending an owl entered his mind it quickly left. If the owl were intercepted there'd be Death Eaters hunting them. Right now everyone thinks they're dead.
"Hey Draco it looks like we're going to have to play dead for a while." Harry said giving Draco a dry grin.
He saluted as he took up the bottle of Firewhiskey. "Well.Potter here's to being dead!" Draco rubbed his sore body, took another swig of Firewhiskey winced and tossed it to Harry. He choked it down with a grimace and then the door exploded.
~*~
TBC
----------------------------------------
[A/N: Das Woelfe Hoehle roughly translated from German 'The Wolves Den'. Vaherishna parseltongue for 'Oh shit!' Read and Review.]
By: souls
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Author's Note: I'm sorry if this post is a long time coming. I hope you enjoy it.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
.Harry Potter and the Icons of Myth
Chapter 17: Die Another Day, pt.2
"Nicolas reconsider."
"Minerva, this job is best left to the young. The job of Head of School has fallen to you. You'll do fine, besides I have more pressing business elsewhere. I will however be taking Fawkes and Albus' notes with me." Nicolas flicked his wand at the bookshelf and a stream of books and papers flew over into an open satchel. Fawkes flitted across the room and onto Nicolas' shoulder. Fawkes tugged at Nicolas' hair motioning toward his perch. "Oops! I mustn't forget that."
With another flick and swish the perch zoomed across the room and into the bag. The office looked bare without Albus' presence. Nicolas let out a cough as he choked back tears. He'd outlived so many in his lifetime that he didn't have tears for them all but Albus held a special place in his heart. He took one more glance around him and gave the new Headmistress an assuring nod. "Alright Fawkes." With that said the bird and wizard disappeared in a burst of red and gold flames leaving only a single feather behind.
~*~
-Spell Weary and Lost
Most of the burns were still visible. They'd stayed with the Belmont's for about a month before they were strong enough to leave. It would take even longer for the fractured images of their memories to fully piece themselves back together again. A few days into their trek across country the two young men remembered their names. The dark haired boy climbed up the hill pulling the fair-haired boy up beside him.
The raven-haired boy thought back to the Belmont's. He hadn't wanted to leave the way he did. They were a nice Muggle family but they had to keep moving. Harry and Draco had walked for several miles already before stopping on the outskirts of a small town.
"Draco! Do you think we should head in?" Harry's bright emerald eyes falling upon Draco. They glowed with an intensity that unsettled Draco.
"I don't know. We probably should go in after dark. That cluster of magic I sense could be Death Eaters." A line of crimson trickled down Harry's forehead. Draco ripped off a piece of his robe and threw it at Harry. "You're bleeding again Potter."
He wrapped the black strip of cloth round his head and leaned back against the tree. It seemed that he hadn't had time to gather his thoughts in a while. They hadn't heard a thing from the Wizarding World in forever. Hermione and Ron made it out he just new it, if they were dead he'd know it. If they could just make it to France they could get some help from Madam Maxime. She would be able to help them get transport back to Hogwarts somehow.
"I'll take the first watch Potter. You get some sleep." Draco watched the young Gryffindor lay back and close his eyes. It wasn't for the first time that Draco wondered how the two of them had fallen into such a buddy-buddy role. They were nowhere near being friends yet the camaraderie was there. It's nothing like a common enemy to make rivals comrades in arms. How'd that saying go again?
The enemy of my enemy is my friend.
The light disappeared as evening came. The Slytherin boy rubbed the ache from his sore muscles and sleep from his eyes before taking on his animagus form. The wolf's ears perked for any strange sounds coming from the nearby town and the ever-darkening underbrush.
Draco watched Harry sleep until he grabbed violently at his scar. *"Vaherishna!" he hissed out in one jagged gasp. Draco gave him an appraising look before shape shifting back to normal.
"Nightmare." It wasn't a question.
"Yeah. Voldemort isn't in England anymore. In my dream he was in a desert."
"We will deal with him later Potter. Right now we need to eat."
"I guess we'll have to go into the town then." The two teens skulked into the town sticking to the shadows. A quick wave of Harry's hand was enough to shatter the bulb of a nearby street lamp. That'd keep them hidden in case anyone decided to peer out their window.
It took them a while but they finally reached an old dilapidated brownstone. The windows were boarded up and what glass could be seen was dusty and dirty from many years of abuse. Harry reached letting his senses sniff around the building. It felt warm and shimmered slightly. He could tell that some enchantment had been worked upon the place before him.
Draco gave Harry a look that roughly translated to, I hope you know what you're doing. He stared back with; do you have any better ideas?
The building had an old wooden sign suspended by rusted hooks. The sign read Das Woelfe Hoehle. A bell with a long chain hung beside the door. Harry tried the doorknob and nothing happened. The door didn't budge an inch in either direction. Harry looked around carefully, waved his hand across the knob and whispered Alohamora. Again nothing happened. Frustrated Harry took a swipe at the bell's chain. The bell didn't ring but two suspiciously enormous looking eyes peered back through a slot in the door Harry swore wasn't there a minute before.
The door opened letting Draco and Harry inside. A portly man with fish bowl sized eyes and buckteeth greeted him on the other side. "May I help you gentlemen?" The stood silent before them as if expecting a name before he let them enter from the antechamber.
"Mr. Black, Vincent Black." Harry said before motioning to Draco.
"And I am Gregory Wolfe." Draco replied with in a strained voice. His hands rummaged around in his robe for money. He dropped some galleons in the man's hands before continuing. "My friend and I would like a room and some food."
The man with the fish bowl eyes showed them to an empty room that overlooked the Town Square. Fifteen minutes later the man brought up some stew, a loaf of fresh bread and a bottle of Ogden's Firewhiskey.
"Do you get the British Daily Prophet here?"
"Sure'n we do Mr. Black but it's probably a few weeks old. Not much good news coming outta Britain lately." He left and returned with a tattered copy of the Daily Prophet. "If'n that's all I'll be leaving sirs. If you need anything-just ring, I'm Yacobee Butterbur but most people call me Butterbur.
Harry quickly began looking the Daily Prophet over. The article about Dumbledore brought fresh pangs of grief to the young man. After reading that the entire Wizarding world assumed that he and the others were dead, a feeling akin to someone just walking over your grave sent a chill like ice water down his back. As the thought of sending an owl entered his mind it quickly left. If the owl were intercepted there'd be Death Eaters hunting them. Right now everyone thinks they're dead.
"Hey Draco it looks like we're going to have to play dead for a while." Harry said giving Draco a dry grin.
He saluted as he took up the bottle of Firewhiskey. "Well.Potter here's to being dead!" Draco rubbed his sore body, took another swig of Firewhiskey winced and tossed it to Harry. He choked it down with a grimace and then the door exploded.
~*~
TBC
----------------------------------------
[A/N: Das Woelfe Hoehle roughly translated from German 'The Wolves Den'. Vaherishna parseltongue for 'Oh shit!' Read and Review.]