HARRY POTTER AND THE HALF BLOOD PRINCE
I own nothing. Harry Potter and co. belongs to She-Who-Must-be-Worshipped, J. K. Rowling.
Here's the next chapter. Sorry for the delay.
Chapter 8: Ardeth
There was a bird singing somewhere high above him. Light fell dazzling against his closed eyelids, and the sound of running water reached his ears. Harry blinked his eyes slowly, adjusting to the glare of the sun above him, enveloping him in its warm embrace. The azure sky arched above him with velvety clouds dancing around. The smell of fresh grass reached his nose along with the pleasant scent of newly bloomed flowers. He turned his head slowly and saw that he was lying on a field of grass, its blades swinging with the gentle breeze of the wind. Beyond him was a small hill filled with golden flowers that Harry was unfamiliar with. He guessed that the sweet aroma came from these flowers. Harry made to move but a shooting pain immediately spread across his body, and with it, the memory of what had happened. He was surprised that he was still alive after a nasty fall like that. He remembered that he was like a thousand feet above the ground, a far cry from his fifty feet fall from his broomstick back then. Fate and magic seemed to be determined to keep him alive. In constant and horrible pain, yes, but still alive.
He moved himself to a sitting position, trying to ignore the constant aching all around his body. Pain was no stranger to him, in fact, he was actually getting used to it by now. Since he could remember, physical pain had been a constant companion; from Dudley's beatings to the escapades he managed to find himself in when he started going to Hogwarts.
Harry waited a few moments for the pain to dull away before moving. A gust of wind blew as he stood, fluttering his tattered robes and unkempt hair. It was so serene and quiet. From where he was standing, he could only see trees and grass. There was no sign of any people living here: no buildings, no cars, and no noise. He took advantage of the peaceful surroundings and let his mind wander.
He knew that something had changed in him after meeting his parents. What it was, he wasn't entirely sure yet. But now he knew that death was not something to be feared. Fear of death was only fear of the unknown. But now, he knew that there was something beyond death, that it was not the end. That although his loved ones had passed away, he knew that they were watching over him and that someday they will meet again. The words of Albus Dumbledore echoed in his mind, 'to a well-organized mind, death is just the next great adventure.' Adventure, indeed.
But now, Harry had no idea what he was going to do. Or where he was for that matter. For all he knew, he may probably be in Timbuktu. Somehow, he must find a way to Hogwarts. Everybody was probably worrying about him. But first, he had to know where he was. He started walking, hoping that he would come across a village or something. He hadn't taken a couple of steps when he heard a woman screaming, coming from beyond the trees behind him. Without thinking, Harry ran towards it, checking for the wand on his back.
"Did you find him Lucius?"
"Forgive me my Lord, we didn't find him. We firmly believed that he had left England long ago," Lucius Malfoy cowered.
"Really Lucius, you're becoming useless like Pettigrew here. You couldn't even find your own son? How pathetic!" spat the Dark Lord angrily.
"I-I'm sorry my Lord."
"No matter, he is not of importance. Young Draco's death is certain, one way or another."
Leaves and branches whipped across his face, dodging trees that whizzed past him as he ran. Little light had been able to pass through the thick canopy of leaves above him, making it difficult for Harry to find his way. But he knew that he was getting closer as he could now also hear other voices other than the one he had heard earlier. He could already see light on the other end. And seconds later, he was momentarily blinded as he burst through a clearing. Adjusting his eyes, Harry saw that he was just outside of a small village.
Small houses stood apart from each other, which were made out of wood with straws for its roofs. To his far right were fields full of crops and wheat, probably the villagers' main source of livelihood. The voices were coming from the middle of the village and Harry didn't waste any time. He immediately went that way and found a crowd in the middle of the street. He pushed and shoved to reach the middle, men grunting in annoyance as he passed them.
In the middle of the crowd was a blind old man wearing a tattered dirty-white cloak. Tough looking men in regal blue robes surrounded him. He was bald and thin with a beard that reached just below his neck. He was holding a black thin cane and was standing a bit stooped. The men in blue robes were laughing at him, like a pack of hyenas encircling their prey. But what surprised Harry the most was that each of the men in blue robes was pointing a sword at the old man. Who used swords in this time of age? Harry glanced around him and to his amazement, everybody was just standing there watching fearfully, not making any move to help the old man. He noticed that an old lady was slumped against a tree to his right. She was probably the one who screamed earlier. Harry drew a breath and grabbed the wand hidden on his back, waiting first to know what was going on. He wasn't going to act unless he had a complete grasp of what was going on.
"Come peacefully old man. Don't make this anymore harder for all of us. You know we will win," said one of the men in blue robes. This one was tall and bulky, wearing a black eye-patch over his right eye. He seemed to be the leader of the group.
"You should know better, Darius. I will not go," replied the old man calmly. Darius sneered at him and motioned to his companions. All of them positioned their swords as if to strike, and to Harry's bewilderment, Darius had a wand on his other hand.
Harry may not know what was really going on but he was not going to let a blind old man be murdered right in front of him. Misuse of underage magic be damned. Aiming his wand at the man with the eye-patch, Harry concentrated and shouted.
"Stupefy!"
A thin red light came out of his wand and hit Darius at the back. But to his surprise, Darius wasn't affected at all. And what was worst was that he suddenly felt exhausted as if he just ran for miles. Harry then noticed the silence, rather than the battle that he was expecting. He looked around and saw that everyone was looking at him oddly. He glanced at the old man and if he didn't knew better, he'd say that he was staring at him.
"A wand-holder?" Darius asked disbelievingly. He and his men were looking at him suspiciously. "Who are you?"
Uh oh. What the bloody hell is going on, Harry asked himself confusedly. Two of the blue-robed men were heading his way, their swords posed threateningly in front of them. Harry didn't know what to do now. He guessed that spells wouldn't work on them and he was too tired to try another one again. The villagers that once around him scattered away hurriedly, fearing that they might get hurt in the obvious confrontation that was going to happen.
Harry remembered that he had been in a situation like this before, with the strange creature in the Ministry. He wasn't able to use spells back then too, but he was able to fight back. He remembered that he was stronger and faster when he fought the creature. The problem was he didn't know how he was able to manage that. But there was no time to dawdle. The blue-robed men were glaring at him and two were already prepared to strike. Harry closed his eyes and concentrated hard, remembering what it had felt then. How the magic surrounded his body and then sipped into his skin. How his muscles clenched and his mind focused and blanked.
The two men that were near Harry hesitated a bit, seeing him relaxed and closed his eyes. But with an order from Darius, they lunged. The one on the right reached Harry first, striking him with his sword. A whistling sound pierced the heavens as steel sliced through the air where Harry's neck was once was. The man looked around him wildly, searching where Harry went.
Unnoticed by the two men, Harry was standing twenty paces behind them, covered slightly by the shadow of the house behind him. Eyes still closed, Harry could feel the magic flowing through his veins, pumping him with raw energy. His mind was utterly blanked and relaxed, only focused on the fight at hand. This was an entirely new feeling to him. Everything seems to be clearer, simpler, as if there was nothing that could do him harm. Hearing quiet footsteps head towards him, Harry knew that they had already found him. Harry prepared himself and finally opened his eyes. He saw the two men hesitate and gulp nervously through his green eyes burning with power.
Not really knowing how to fight in a muggle way, Harry decided to let his instincts guide him.
He lunged at them, dodging just in time as the man nearest him swing his sword at him. Harry attacked the farther one first, crouching just below the sword that was intended for his heart, and sending a powerful punch to his stomach. The man flew ten yards away before crashing down on the dusty street, where he remained lying faced down. Harry turned his attention to the other one. He noticed that the man was looking around him, as if searching for someone to help him. Harry didn't waste anymore time and charged at him. Anticipating that the enemy would swing his sword at him, Harry leaped into the air, twisted around and sent a back-kick to his head while still in the air. The man was lifted off his feet, whirled in the air and landed on the ground face first.
Harry was just about to relax when someone grabbed him by the shoulder and threw him to a wall. He hit the wall painfully but managed to land on his feet, the wooden wall crumbling behind him. He looked up but was surprised when he saw Darius in front of him, sneering malevolently. The old blind man had apparently escaped. He was suddenly grabbed by the neck and was lifted into the air, his feet trying to find the ground.
"You made me loose the old man," Darius hissed, confirming Harry's guess, his good eye glaring at Harry spitefully.
Harry was having trouble breathing now and tried to fight back. But it was to no avail. Darius was too strong for Harry even with his magic-enhanced strength. He was then thrown to the ground angrily; the sound of his ribs breaking reached his ears. Harry coughed out blood. The pain he was feeling was excruciating. He was sure that some of his bones were broken. But he ignored that for the moment, as he was still in danger. He stood up slowly, trying to catch his breath back, looking at Darius warily.
Darius attacked. Fast. One moment, he was a few feet away from Harry, and the next, he was right in front of him, sending a powerful blow to his face. Harry was thrown away, his jaw breaking with a sickening sound. He didn't know that one could still be alive, let alone conscious, with so much pain. He groggily pushed himself to all fours and was about to stand up when he was kicked strongly in the ribs, sending him twirling in the air before hitting a tree with so much force, that the tree was cut in two.
He remained in the ground, trying to fight back the faint. The pain was so much that he could hardly breath. It was like he was drowning in his own blood. He couldn't open his eyes nor could he move his body. He felt that someone was rummaging through his robe and took his wand. Finally, he managed to open his right eye and saw the towering form of Darius above him.
"Pathetic rebel scum!" he heard Darius spat before unconsciousness finally took hold of him.
"The Parliament still won't give their statements concerning the event in London. Rumors were now circulating stating that the Prime Minister was killed during the attack, yet the government hadn't given any statements confirming or denying this. As it is, we are still in the dark of what really is going on. Armed men were now guarding all the roads leading to London to prevent anyone coming in and going out. And just earlier, our man on the field had witnessed what looked like a small army entering London. The officer in charge told us that they were going to evacuate people that were still inside. That was two hours ago, and now there is still no sign of them coming back. That's it for now, we'll be coming right back after—hold on.... We just received a report stating that all planes and ships leaving from England are indefinitely cancelled due to safety risks. It was reported that the first batch of planes that left for another country had crashed with reasons unknown. The same goes with the transport ships."
"Bloody hell!" shouted Mr. Granger as he slowed the car down and stopped at the roadside.
"What now?" her mother asked apprehensively. They were heading for the airport, planning to fly to America. At the start, they had been compliant with their daughter's world, finding it something out of a children's storybook. But now, things were coming out of hand, the once unbelievable dream turning into a frightening nightmare. The story that their daughter told them about a dark lord taking over, punctuated by the death of Harry Potter, would be forever governing their sleeping nights. They had decided that, for the safety of their daughter, it was prudent to leave England.
Hermione was at first reluctant to leave, thinking that it would be an act of cowardice. She believed that she should stay and help in the fight against Voldemort rather than leave. But in the end, her anguish won. Thinking that a new place would help settle her grieving heart, she finally agreed.
"How about the Channel Tunnel?" his father suggested, looking at Hermione expectantly. Though still very young, they valued their daughter's judgments and decisions highly.
British and French investors built the Channel Tunnel, finishing it in 1994. It was a tunnel made below the seabed of the English Channel that connects England to France.
Hermione didn't hesitate to answer. "31 miles long and 131 feet below seabed? I don't think so. Voldemort had obviously thought about this. Surely he had set a trapped in the middle of the tunnel."
Her father sighed resignedly, not really knowing what to do. Travel by plane and by ship were now out of the question. Staying in Surrey was risky for it was too near London for his own liking. The Tunnel seemed to be unacceptable. All of what was happening was entirely out of his league. He's a dentist for Merlin's sake!
"North," Hermione said suddenly. "We head north. Voldemort started in London, obviously wanting it to be his main center of operations. From there, he would expand his territory, starting with the nearby cities. I believe he would first try to take England before anything else. So by going north, towards Scotland, we would be relatively safe for the time being."
"Well, sounds like a plan," her father said, pulling the car back to the road, heading north in an incredible speed.
A hundred feet above them, riding a broomstick, was a tired Viktor Krum following them completely unnoticed.
Harry was in a state where dreams and reality meet, a state where he was half-conscious and half-awake. The hard wooden ground he was lying on was constantly moving, bumping every second. The sound of hoofs galloping told him that he was in some sort of wagon. Voices murmured across him and Harry recognized the voice of Darius as one of them.
"Losing Gaus was a big mistake. His Majesty wouldn't be pleased."
"But we have taken a prisoner, surely that would count as something?" asked a young voice.
"Indeed it would," agreed the voice of Darius.
"Did you see him fight? He was strong and quick. He dispatched Biggs and Wedge without difficulty. I reckon he's in the same level as we, Elites," the young voice said amazedly.
"I doubt that. Strong as he was, he was no match for me. He didn't have any fighting style either, so I doubt that old Gaus taught him," Darius speculated. "Perhaps, he belongs to another rebel group."
"But only old man Gaus can fight us in even tones. I doubt that there are other more powerful wizards out there that could teach this young boy the arts that we use," pointed the young voice.
"No, there was another one who knew the arts. He too was also a wand-holder, as I recall, and a newcomer at that. You were in the west back then so you hadn't met him. He was also powerful and he led a new group of rebels called the Doghounds."
"Sounds ominous," commented the younger man amusedly.
"Do not make the mistake of taking them lightly, Ralf. Though it seemed that they lacked proper training and discipline, they had proved themselves to be a highly effective group. Indeed, they had already freed Eosa down south from the clutches of His Majesty's troops. I personally had fought their leader, a wild man that knows no fear and laughs at the face of death. He certainly was a worthy opponent."
"I take it that he still lives?"
"Indeed. He escaped when Imperial reinforcements arrived."
"So that's why you were sent here? To serve as your punishment?"
Harry hadn't been able to hear the rest of the conversation as the pain came back to him in full force and blackness took over him once again.
Heavy footsteps echoed throughout the walls of Hogwarts, breaking the monotony of silence that had engulfed it since the last meeting. McGonagall stood from her seat at the Great Hall, looking at the heavy wooden doors that lead to the main hall. Seconds later, the doors burst open, and in walked Minister Fudge and twenty Aurors. Trailing behind was Percy Weasley with a parchment on his hands.
"What is the meaning of this?" demanded McGonagall angrily.
"Ah, Professor McGonagall, just the person I wanted to see," said Minister Fudge with a maniacal grin on his face that completely disconcerted her. The Aurors spread out, making sure that all doors were guarded and secured, two were on the sides of the Minister. Percy remained behind the Minister, looking at everything except Professor McGonagall.
"What is it that you want with me, Minister?" asked McGonagall guardedly, an unknown fear gnawing at her heart. The sudden appearance of the Minister and the Aurors deeply unsettled her.
"Now, now, Minerva, you do not have to use that tone on me. After all, we are on the same side here, right? Now, I know that Dumbledore has his own little private army, and that you are part of it. I want your group to join us. Our chances to win this war would be higher if we worked together, don't you agree?"
"Now," he continued, not waiting for her reply. "I want to know their names. Who are the members? C'mon, tell me."
Minister Fudge was looking at her like a predator would with its prey. She didn't believe him and knew that this was some sort of trap. Not hesitating a bit, she replied tersely, "I don't know what you are talking about. Dumbledore has no army whatsoever."
This didn't suit the Minister at all. Within a second, the grin was wiped out of his face and was replaced by an irate sneer, his face turning to a deep shade of red. "No! You will tell me who they are! I am the Minister of Magic! Your loyalty should be on me, not on Dumbledore!"
"Still Minister, I have no idea what you are talking about," she replied coolly.
Fudge took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. "Very well then, if you wanted to do this the hard way. Atwood, Taylor!" he motioned to the two Aurors beside him. "Take her to the dungeons!"
"What? What are you doing?" she demanded as she drew her wand and stepped back. The two Aurors drew their wands as well, already prepared to duel.
"Don't be stupid Professor. Do you really expect that you can defeat twenty Aurors all by yourself?" sneered Fudge.
McGonagall glanced around the hall to find out that the other Aurors had drawn their wands as well. Sighing resignedly at her fate, she lowered her wand and handed it to the nearest Auror. "We are in a war, Minister. You will need every help you can get."
"Well, I don't need your help! I already have enough on my plate as it is. I don't need you and your small little group running around doing God knows what, interfering with my work!" shouted Fudge angrily as he watched McGonagall be led out of the Great Hall.
"Now, now, Minister, ease your mind. We still have important work to do," soothed Percy importantly.
"Yes, yes, quite indeed. Andrews," he motioned to the Auror near the door, " search the grounds. Make sure that there are no one else out there." Andrews nodded and motioned for a couple of Aurors to accompany him and then left. Looking around, Fudge smiled happily. "Finally, Hogwarts is mine."
"Indeed Minister," agreed Percy. "But what are we going to do with the patients in the Hospital Wing?"
"Dumbledore stays there. We don't want him anywhere else, so if he wakes up, we would know about it."
"And the potions master?"
"Remove him. Put him to St. Mungo's or somewhere. I don't want any Death Eater, ex or not, in my castle."
"Understood," Percy nodded, already walking towards the Hospital Wing with a couple of Aurors.
Opening his eyes, he found out that he was outside on the ground, tied to a tree behind him. The incandescent moon glowed balefully above. A fire was crackling twenty feet away from him, in the middle of blue-colored tents. Horses were tethered to his left, the wagons a few feet away. Harry felt his eyes slowly closing again when he heard a sound to his right. He slowly turned his head and saw a hooded figure striding towards him quietly, a long knife on his left hand. Harry, already on the brink of unconsciousness, didn't have much energy to move, much less react. Much to his surprise, he heard a girl's voice whisper to his ears before sliding unto oblivion once again.
"Do not make a sound, I had come to get you out of here."
The sky was dark and gloomy, light rain trickling down on the cold, hard streets of London. The usual noises that came from the bustling streets of the vehicle-filled road were absent. The streets were empty. The roads were filled with abandoned vehicles. Silence reigned.
A scream pierced the air. Followed by hurried footsteps of a young girl who kept glancing back on her shoulders. Tears were streaming down her eyes, her face filled with cuts and bruises. Her clothes were old and torn, covering only parts of her body. Following behind her were men in black robes and white masks, their steps sure and unhurried.
The girl screamed again, hoping that someone might be able to hear and help her. Her family had been killed right before her eyes, her father tortured, her mother raped. And all the while, the men in white masks were laughing. Who could be so evil? So cruel? After they were finished with her parents, they turned to her, pointing the wooden sticks that they used to kill her parents at her. But she was able to run away. Unfortunately, they were able to follow.
Turning to a corner, she bumped into somebody, sending her falling backwards. She glanced up slowly, terrified, a man in white mask already on her mind. The figure was tall, several inches taller than she was. She looked up from the black boots of an unknown origin to the long black cloak that covered his body to the hooded head. The face was covered in shadows, but to her relief she found no sign of a white mask. Sobbing frantically, she stood up and engulfed the man in a hug.
"Please.... Please, please help me. They killed them all. They're coming. They're going to kill me. Please.... You're my only hope.... Please help me."
The figure only stood there, not moving nor answering her plea for help. She grew terrified once again. What if he was one of the men in white masks? What if he would just hand her to them? She contemplated to run again but knew that it was too late. The men following her had already reached them, only several steps away from her and the man in the black cloak.
"Who the bloody hell are you?" She heard one of the men in white masks asked. Her hopes flared up once again. He wasn't one of them. She glanced up once again, and to her surprise, she found out that the hood covering his face was removed. He was about in mid-thirties; his hair was brown with streaks of gray all over, belying his young age.
"Don't worry. You're safe now. I'm here," he said in a gentle but tired voice.
Harry awoke to the twittering of birds outside. Sunlight peaked through the open windows on his right, flooding the small room with an iridescent radiance. Cool fresh breeze of wind drifted in to the room, and with it, the sweet smell of spring in bloom.
"Ah, you are awake," said a male voice in the corner.
Harry, glancing towards the voice, saw a blurred image of someone sitting in a chair.
"You're glasses are in the table beside your bed," informed the blurred guy.
Harry reached and immediately grabbed his glasses and put it on. He suddenly noticed that all the bruises he had after the battle were gone. The excruciating pain he felt before had been reduced to a throbbing pain. His broken ribs and jaw were completely healed.
"Magic can do a lot of things. Very handy, isn't it?" commented the man in the corner.
Harry finally looked his way and to his surprise, it was the old blind man in the village.
"What's going on? Where am I?" asked Harry in one breath. The old man smiled at him and stood, walking towards him slowly. Harry looked around, trying to find his wand. He didn't know what was going on but having his wand with him would make him certainly feel more secure.
"Sad to say, but your wand is currently in the possession of Darius," the blind wizard said as he conjured a chair with a wave of his hand and sat beside the bed. "But do not worry, as you may have guessed by now, I am not your enemy."
"How did you do that? How did you know that I was looking for my wand? And how did you know that I was awake?"
"Magic," the old man said simply and left it at that. "Now I would like to introduce myself-"
"But I already know your name," Harry interrupted. "You're Gaus."
"Oh? And how did you know that?" asked Gaus.
"I heard it from the man Darius, the one with the eye-patch. He was talking to a man called Ralf."
"Ralf?" gasped the old man silently to himself but Harry had heard him nonetheless. Years of eavesdropping had made sure of that. "He was there? I didn't sense him. This bodes ill for us, if he, indeed, is here in Dyfed."
"Why?" Harry asked curiously. The man named Ralf had seemed harmless enough. In fact, he sounded like he was just a boy. But it was obvious to Harry that Gaus feared him.
"Never mind that. As you already knew my name, it would be quite impolite if you didn't introduce yourself"
Harry was surprised. Didn't they already know who he is? "I'm Harry Potter."
"Hmmm.... Harry Potter," the old man murmured, completely lost in his thoughts, and then added, to Harry's complete surprise, "The surname sounds familiar, but I haven't heard any Harry Potter before."
"You.... You don't know me?" asked Harry incredulously. Gaus was obviously a wizard. How come he didn't know him? He was, after all, famous and known all over the wizarding world, blind or not.
Gaus merely chuckled. "Why? Are you supposed to be famous or something?"
"Well.... yeah," Harry answered, dumbfounded.
"You have to tell me about it later. But first, I take it you are a newcomer?"
"What? A newcomer? What's that supposed to mean?"
"Ah, as I had suspected. It meant that you are new to this place. That you, previously, had just passed through the veiled archway."
"How-how did you know that? What's going on?" Harry asked alarmingly.
"Because like you, I also fell to the veiled archway. Like you, I was also 'dropped' into this place centuries ago."
"What is this place? Where am I?"
Gaus stood up and waved his hand to the windows magisterially, indicating the world outside, "Young Harry Potter, I welcome you to Ardeth, the world beyond the veil!"
A/N:
Nathalie-Z: Harhar! Thanks! Stay tuned; things are going to get more exciting.
Teen Queen: You think my story's excellent? Thanks!
Cinderelly: Hope you love this one too. Harharhar!
Krispin Loretta: Harharhar! Cheers!
333,halfevil: Uhm.... I just had my unluckiest week in my entire life. Was that your doing for not updating sooner? Harharhar!!! Kidding. Anyway, here's the next chapter. Hope you find it to your liking.
I-want-to-fly: Yeah, I kind of figured that was you. An inflated head means an inflated brain, which is better, right? Harharhar!
I believe you're going to hate the Minister more after this chapter, particularly, the Minister, right?
Well, Sirius had been mentioned in this chapter. Do you notice it?
You'll find out more about the shadow thingys later. Yeah, shadow thingys, cool name (mind wanders off).
You may not believe it, but you just hit the nail on what you said about Harry. That's what I was planning on doing. Cheers!
Harharhar! Just what like my Uncle Babba used to say, the greatest leaders are the ones who are asleep! Harharhar!
Harharhar! Can't help it, I like cliffies. Well, when I'm the one writing, that is.
Thanks for the offer; I'll think about it. Harharhar!
Longest review you have ever written? Wow, now I'll get an inflated head. Cheers! Hope you liked this chapter.
The Shadows: Wow! I am deeply honored for your presence (bows deeply).
Thanks for the pointers. I'm working on it. If you've got more, please, do and tell me. I really need it. I'm a horrible writer. Harharhar! Cheers! Hope you stay with us.
Drew: Wow! Thanks for the compliment!
Shinji-Higurashi: Harhar! Sorry for the wait, but here's the next chapter. Thanks for the compliment!
Lunatic Pandora1: And here's the next chapter that you had been anxiously waiting for. Thanks for the review. Things will get more interesting...
Rawiya Prabhakar: Thanks!
Gabwr: Errr.... Thanks.
Paul: You know, you are the only one who answered my question. You really think so? Should Harry really kill?
Thanks for the reviews, people!
