That's for the reviews in Chapter One, kids; I really appreciate it ;) And Lilith, thanks for all your reviews in all my other stories, it's always nice when I check the reviews that I see your name there :D
Open Fire
Chapter Two
There were three things certain in this world, Harry concluded.
Death, Taxes and Snape's complete and utter lack of common decency.
Although, being a Wizard, he could, to quote Snape Put a stopper in Death, and Tax evasion is pretty easy when you can apparate to Australia on a whim. So that left only Professor Snape his rather extensive character defects, which Harry doubted could be cured by even the most talented wizard or witch in this world or the next, as the one fact he could count on being constant.
"…I mean, it wasn't even his fault! I saw Malfoy sabotage Harry's potion!"
"…I know Ron…"
"…Hell, Snape saw that bloody ferret sabotage Harry's potion!"
"…Yes Ron, I know, I was there, remember?"
"…He's such a bloody bias slimeball, Malfoy could have walked up to him, told him he's dropped the Dragon Blood into Harry's potion, caused it to explode all over the Dungeon, he's still have somehow blamed Harry! The bloody sun would still shine out of that annoying gits arse"
Harry couldn't help but laugh as both Ron and Hermione continued to argue, one of their strange flirting rituals after any class, but Potions seemed to create the most amusing show.
He agreed with Ron of course, Snape was a right prat, but he'd lived with his vindictiveness for the better part of 5 and a half years, he could stand another 18 months without blowing him up not unlike a certain Aunt. He laughed again at the image of Snape being deflated and helped off a chimneystack in Industrial Sheffield.
"What?" Ron asked, turning to his best friend.
"Oh, nothing. Nothing…" Harry tried to look at least a little serious, but failed miserably.
"Ron, Professor Snape isn't fair, that was established the first day we arrived, remember? Nothing, and I mean nothing, will ever change that"
Ron shrugged his shoulders, he just like complaining about the greasy git, it was more of an outlet for all his frustrations than just his immense dislike for said teacher. "Detention?"
"Every night for the rest of the week…" Harry replied.
Harry settled down under a tree by the lake, pulling out the book he had borrowed off Hermione that morning. He'd been wanting to read further, but every time he got close, someone would interrupt.
But now, during his free session, with his 6th year peers either in class or studying, he finally had the peace and privacy he needed to continue his research in this mythical paradise.
He skimmed over the details of places such as the Realm of Gondor, of the Horse masters of Rohan and of the ancient race of the Dúnedain; the men of the North.
It was enthralling, that such a magnificent world could ever exist, and Harry continued reading, delving further into the wondrous Arda, but stoped suddenly as his eyes landed on a portrait of one of the inhabitants of the world. Dressed in battle attire, his long blonde hair whipping around his face, with his curved sword poised for battle. In the background, a city burnt, such a stark contrast to the previous images he had witnessed. But more than that, he knew this man. He was the same man who had fallen from the trees in his dream last night, he remembered the terrified scream of the tiny boy as the golden haired man fell to the cobble ground. Pushing the thoughts out of his mind, he continued to read, hoping to find anything about his dreams.
…. The great Hidden City of Turgon was concealed from friend and foe alike during the First Age by the Encircling Mountains, and guarded from trespassers by the Eagles of Thorondor. However, Morgoth's servants finally discovered Gondolin through the treachery of Maeglin, and it was sacked in I 510. Turgon was lost in the Fall of the City, but some few (including Tuor and Idril, with their child Eärendil) escaped the destruction and dwelt as Exiles at the Mouths of Sirion. Their escape was made possible by Glorfindel (Pictured, left), a noble Elf of Gondolin, who battled with the Barlog in the Encircling Mountains. While Glorfindel defeated the Barlog, he too was slain in the battle, sent to the Halls of Mandos…
He had a name, the figure of his dreams had a name! Glorfindel. Harry search the index for reference to the man he'd finally found.
"…Glittering Caves…Glóin son of Gróin…Glóin son of Thorin I….Glóredhel…" Harry muttered to himself until he came to what he was looking for, Glorfindel of Gondolin.
The Barlog Slayer…Noble Elf of Gondolin…Advisor to Lord of Rivendell…
Harry jumped with a start, searching his surroundings. He was no longer in the Hogwarts grounds, is was much darker here. Colder, and damp. He reached for his wand, startled to find it wasn't there. He quickly scanned the dark room for any indication of where he may be.
He spun around, hearing hushed voices from the other corner of the room, straining his eyes to see who was there.
"Hush, pentithen nîn" Harry heard a soothing voice whisper, followed by a small whimper.
"Ada..Bar..Saes..Ada, saes, dan Imlardris…" Even though Harry couldn't see clearly, he knew it was the boy from his dreams. But he sounded so different here, broken, so unlike the high-spirited boy that had laughed with his older companions. Then he remembered the battle, the child's screams. Had they been captured? Had he been captured? Was he simply dreaming again? Was this even real?
"Istari, no harm will come to you. I will protect you." As Harry's eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could now make out the two figures against the wall. The older man, Harry could now see, was Glorfindel, the blonde-haired man from the book. His face, while now covered in dirt and blood, still held the same ethereal beauty as it did in the book, as well as his dreams. And, at the same time, he managed to give off an aurora of a Warrior who had seen many years of battle and war.
The little boy curled up closer to the older man, "gwaedh, Ada?"
"I promise, Ion nîn" He whispered, holding the small child closer.
A small crest of light entered the room, and Harry instinctively covered his eyes from the sudden onslaught, but recovered quickly enough to see the horribly deformed creatures enter the room, atrocious sadistic smiles on their warped faces. They reached for the child, but Glorfindel's reflexes were quicker than their sluggish ones. He shielded the small boy, which was met with blows from the creatures. Pounding into his flesh, his unprotected back and limbs, but he did not so much as flinch. The child beneath him clung to the older man like a lifeline, crying into his chest. Glorfindel held on tighter to his young charge, tears of pain falling from his eyes, but he refused to scream or give any other indication he was feeling their wrath.
Harry looked up as more creatures entered the room, 5 of them now, grabbed the older man with all their combined strength, and threw him across the room, directly into the opposite wall, stunning him for a few precious seconds, which gave the creatures the window they needed to grab the small boy.
"Ada!! Daro" The boy screamed, and the creatures turned their attention on him. Harry ran for the boy, to protect him from the horrible creatures, but he could do nothing. The monsters passed right through him and roughly picked the boy up, practically dragging him out of the room.
Glorfindel was quickly on his feet, running towards the terrified child and his captors, but was held back by the creatures, laughing at his futile attempts.
"Stupid Elf. Nothing ya can do now, he's ours" mocked one of the larger creatures.
"Gwaur Yrch" Glorfindel spat at the offending creatures, which was met by a sharp backhand to his face.
"Never speak in that filthy tongue again, Elf"
"Natha daged dhaer!" Glorfindel retaliated, trying to get the attention off the small boy, directing their anger at him instead.
However, it did not work. Instead of the creatures turning on him, the larger one took hold on the boy, squeezing his little arms to bring him closer. The boy flinched as the creature brought his face closer to his, expecting to be hit. Instead a pointed black tongue left the creatures lips, and licked the boys face, leaving a trail of black saliva up his cheek. Harry felt physically sick as he watched the boy squirm, and, in turn, horror pass over Glorfindel's face.
"Leave him. Your quarrel is with me, the boy has done nothing to harm you". But the creature paid no heed to Glorfindel's pleas, smiling a sick, twisted smile at the Elf-Lord, as his rough deformed hands clawed at the boy, groping his body as if to prove to Glorfindel this boy was now his property, he could do as he wished.
"NO! Please, leave him! He is but a child! Do not condemn to the Halls of Mandos so young!" Glorfindel continued his pleas as the rough claws delved inside the boy's tunic, causing a whimper to escape his lips, tears to fall from his eyes at the horrible invasion.
Harry felt his stomach twist and contort as the monster continued to molest the boy, as the boy inturn shudder under the touch, confusion and fear dancing across his features, and Glorfindel, the anger, the hatred, the compassion burning all at once . He didn't know how much more he could take before the contents of his stomach would violently find itself on the floor of the dark room.
The creature ripped off the boy's tunic, laughing at the horror and disgust on his prisoners face, "I am in control here, stupid Elf. You obey my rules, or you suffer the consequences" He threw the boy to the floor, spiting his vile black saliva on him to drive his point home. The creatures left, but their evil laughs remained, echoing in the room.
"Istari… Istari?" Glorfindel approached the boy slowly, he hadn't moved since the creatures had left the room, just shook every so slightly on the floor.
Glorfindel knelt down next to him, touching his shoulder ever so slightly, causing the boy flinch and a strangled sob to escape. "Hush Istari, come Ion nîn" he whispered, coaxing the child up. Glorfindel wrapped his arms around him, and felt the boy's muscles go tense beneath his touch. He whispered quite, soothing words in his own tongue, so low, Harry could not hear. All Harry could now make out was the quite sobs of the boy, accompanied by the foreign language.
Harry struggled to get air into his lungs, he jumped up in panic and the book in his lap went flying. He walked a few steps, and fell to his knees, violently emptying his stomach. Slowly, his breathing returned to it's regular pattern, and he realised he was back at Hogwarts.
He felt a hand on his shoulder, he turned to see Hermione standing behind him, concern etched on her face. "What happened?"
"I..I don't know" He replied, taking the bottle of water she offered, "I keep having these strange dreams…"
Hermione's concern deepened, "Not about… Voldemort… is it?"
"No, no" Harry replied, shaking his head, "Nothing like that" He paused for a moment, deliberating whether or not to tell her, Well, you started, can't back down now… "Have you got some free time? This could take a while…."
Deep beneath the school, in the quarters under the lake, Professor Snape snapped out of his own daydream, his hands trembling from the memory. Berating himself, he hit his hands down on the desk in front of him, but the tremors did not die completely. He walked over, towards the bathroom connected to his private quarters, grasping the washbasin as soon as he could, as a wave of dizziness overcame him. Grabbing the bar of soap, he began cleaning his hands, becoming more and more aggressive as he went.
Unsatisfied at the progress, he reached for the iron wool in the cabinet, scrubbing harder as the flesh, determined not to stop until he felt clean, until the water turned an ugly shade of brown. The water would start of clear, and tinges of pink would appear, until it was bright red, but he could never get clean, not after these dreams.
He fell to the ground, unaware he was crying until he lent against the cool tiled wall. He couldn't hear the old man calling his name, didn't even acknowledge his presence until he sat down beside him, 'Severus, what has happened? What have you done?' he could hear the words, but they seemed so distant, as though he was not the one being spoken to.
Dumbledore tried to take the shaking man in his arms, but was met with Snape lashing out, 'No! Leave Me!'
'Calm down my boy, I will not harm you, I promise' he whispered.
'You promised l would not be harmed. You promised…'
'Yes, I promise…"
'No! Daro!! Saes, daro. Saes Ada, saes…' Snape stopped fighting Dumbledore, but his incoherent mumbling continued, accompanied by his sobs, Dumbledore simply held him tighter, mumbling his own words of comfort.
Sindarin Translations:
Hush, pentithen nîn – Hush, my little one
Ada..Bar..Saes..Ada, saes, dan Imlardris – Dad…Home…Please…Dad, please, back to Imlardris.
gwaedh, Ada – Promise (oath) Dad
I promise, Ion nîn – I promise, my Son
Ada!! Daro!! – Dad!! Stop!!
Gwaur Yrch – Filthy (dirty) Orc
Natha daged dhaer! – You will all die!
No! Daro!! Saes daro. Saes Ada, saes – No! Stop!! Please stop. Please Dad, please.
More to come!! Please review!!