Disclaimer

I'll let you judge whether I wrote the Harry Potter series or not by the quality of my writing. In the extreme case that you're still not sure, I'll also tell you that I'm male. Take what meaning you desire out of it.

Chapter Three
The Great Rebellion
Written by creative reader

Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me at all. He belongs to J.K Rowling. As for the other characters, they belong to me.

A/N: To Lady slytherin phoenix, about the comment in chapter 2, Astral Projector and I sincerely apologise for our offending words. Please do continue to provide valuable reviews. And Thanks to all the reviewers!

Chapter 3: The Great Rebellion

Myron walked leisurely across the immortal's hall to his palace. He was cuddling Harry and thinking to himself. After the talk with the Great One, he began to think of the reason why the elders had insisted on Harry's death at Godric Hollow. If it was not for Harry's half immortal powers, he would have probably died at the hands of Voldemort. It was puzzling indeed.

Soon later he reached his chambers. Entering, he was met with a spectacular sight. The immortal of beauty, Unerva, was waiting inside for him. She too was cuddling a young infant. Myron's Goddaughter, Fiora, who would soon play a big part in young Harry's life.

Unerva as implied by her name was beautiful in every way. She was the epitome of beauty and was very temperamental. Being the sister of Myron, she too shared his personality. Myron could never ever comprehend his sister. Ever since she had been born centuries ago, her bad temper had never changed. The appearance of Veelas in his world was as a result of her temper.

"There you are Myron, I had been searching all over for you. So who is that?" Unevra pointed at Harry.

Myron simply repeated what the Great One had said.

"You are joking, aren't you?" At Myron's stern look, she realised that it was the truth.

"Oh gosh, so what are you going to do about him?" she asked curiously.

"Well, since Harry is practically part of our family, I am going to adopt him as my God-son and take care of him" Myron answered stoically.

"I guess you're right. So this is Harry isn't it?" Unevra cuddled young Harry and pinched his cheeks tenderly. She had grown used to the infant.

No one noticed the fact that Harry was grabbing onto Fiora's tiny hands. A great friendship had just began and soon it would turn till love...
Voldemort looked curiously around the chamber. The chamber was full of mysterious symbols, which felt strangely dark. The last thing he remembered was that the Potter's child. The prophesied one had conjured thunderbolts, which were so powerful that his shields had simply fallen apart.

Suddenly he felt a presence. Someone or something had just arrived. Turning back he saw a man. He had bright red hair, which resembled blood, and he seemed to have fangs for teeth. His face seemed to be chiseled out of a piece of wood. It was flawless, perfect except for his heart. He dressed in royal black robes, which seemed to have symbols too.

For the first time in his life as a dark lord, he felt fear.

"Welcome to my chambers, Tom Marvolo Riddle. Please do take a seat," the man spoke smoothly.

Too shocked to reply, Voldemort simply sat down on a seat, which had mysteriously appeared. He finally blurted out.

"Who are you and what am I doing here?"

"Well, you can call me the Dark Lord and you are here simply because you are dead," the Dark Lord replied smugly.

"I'm the dark lord and there's no way I'm dead," Voldemort retorted viciously. He expected the stranger, who proclaimed, himself as the Dark Lord to fear him. The Dark Lord merely smiled darkly.

"Obviously, you're wrong. I'm the Dark Lord and you are my servant," the Dark Lord said.

"Lord Voldemort serves no one!" Voldemort screamed out loudly. He attempted to punch the stranger. However, the Dark Lord simply chuckled. With a snap of his fingers, Voldemort fell screaming. It was the pain again, just like the pain Potter's child had inflicted. He screamed till his throat was hoarse. And it stopped.

"Well, do you believe me now?" the Dark Lord spoke.

"Yes, my Lord," Voldemort spoke meekly in fear for the torture again.

"Shall we continue with the conversation then? As I was saying, you're dead at the hands of Harry Potter."

At that Voldemort fumed, how on earth did he die at an infant's hands? It was preposterous. The conversation continued.

"You may not know but Harry Potter is actually the descendant of Merlin. Merlin as contrary to wizards' belief is not a great wizard but is actually a half-immortal. Harry Potter is the descendant of a half- immortal. Somehow, my brother impregnated one of the descendants of Merlin. So as a result, Harry Potter is a half-immortal, heir to the throne," the Dark Lord finished.

Voldemort was stunned. Was that why he had died at Potter's hands? How could he exact his revenge? It was impossible. No matter how powerful he was, it was impossible to defeat a half-immortal.

The Dark Lord seemed to be able to read Voldemort's thoughts.

"Would you like to take revenge?" he asked darkly.

"Yes, my Lord," Voldemort replied.

"With my powers you shall be able to do that. Will you accept it?" the Dark Lord asked grimly. It was after all an important decision.

"With my pleasure, my Lord," Voldemort replied joyfully. It was a rare opportunity, an immortal offering some of his powers. Perhaps he would be able to exact his revenge after all.

An orb full of vileness appeared in the Dark Lord's palm. It seemed darker than darkness and was full of vitality and most importantly, power. It was rotating at a fast speed and suddenly sped towards Voldemort. Before he could respond, the orb entered him and the pain began. The pain seemed even worse than the previous pain he had experienced. Voldemort lay sprawled on the ground, convulsing occasionally as the Dark Lord looked at him emotionlessly.

The Dark Lord was extremely happy. His plan had finally started. After years of humiliation, he had finally started to take his revenge. He would have his brother's head, the Great One's head. Years ago he had rebelled against the Great One with a great army. However, it had been crushed. Brutally crushed. He had escaped barely alive at the mercy of his brother. The humiliation was so great that every immortal despised him including his own subordinates. Ever since then, he aspired to vanquish the Great One and take over his place.

However, an obstacle had to be first removed. Harry Potter. If the Prophecy was true, then no one would be able to kill Potter except for him. Time to test whether the prophecy was real. The Dark Lord sent a thought to all his followers. And the Great Rebellion began.

Chaos soon broke out in the Immortal Kingdom. About one-third of all the immortals soon headed towards a common place. Myron's palace. Their mission was to destroy the half-immortal, Harry James Potter.

Led by ten elders, they charged towards the fort guarding the palace. A magical barrier was erected around the massive palace. It was purple in colour and seemed to be emanating a lot of power. The shield was created during the first rebellion where immortals were targeted. Never would Myron imagine that this round the rebellion would be among the immortals themselves.

When the elders reached the palace, immortals were already shooting spells at the barrier trying to break the shield. The shield absorbed all the spells. Obviously the shield was too strong. Occasionally, some spells were reflected back.

The immortals' purpose was clear and that was to destroy Harry Potter. Now some of you may be wondering why immortals would want to rebel. Well, they were influenced by the Dark Lord who promised them power and authority beyond their imagination. The easy lure of power soon led those immortals to becoming servants of the Dark Lord. Apparently, they were displeased by the fact that the Great One was stringent in handing over power. They believed that Great One was a failure as a leader and only the Dark Lord who lavished upon them power, would be a better leader. And with that their future was sealed. They would soon be banished forever from the immortal kingdom.

Meanwhile, the Great One was about to leave for Myron's palace. He was shocked to realize that many of his supposed loyal subordinates were actually rebelling against him. Suddenly, he felt a presence in his mind. He searched for the culprit and heard a cold voice.

"Hi Brother dear, it has been so long isn't it? About one century isn't it? You must be getting ready to help Myron aren't you? Well, I suggest you forget about it. It's impossible for you to save them now. Myron, Potter, Unevra and her child, they are dead. No one will be able to save them; after all, I took the liberty to seal up all the doorways of the other immortals. Basically, Myron and his palace are all practically waiting for their impending death. I suggest you prepare their funerals. Soon," the Great One heard a dark chuckle and the voice soon disappeared.

Suddenly, he felt a cold hand clamp over his mind. Damn that brother of his, the mind seal spell was spell meant to trap a being within his or her own mind. It was almost impossible to cast as the immortal reserve needed was far beyond any immortal's grasp. He was shocked; the Dark Lord had actually managed to perfect that. It was almost impossible. Well, nothing was impossible for him; after all he was called the Great One for a reason. And with that he began concentrating his powers as the cold hand continued to clamp over his thoughts preventing him from moving.

There were loud gongs all over the courtyard. Countless of spells sent by over one-third of the immortal was either absorbed by the shield all reflected by it. The shield was a perfect strategy against a massive outspread. It was cast specifically to absorb spells to continue maintaining it and at the same time reflect the spells. Hopefully, it would last long enough for help to come.

Myron waited in apprehension. His sister, Unevra, was sitting beside him looking after Harry and Fiora. The situation was intense and they could do nothing about it. Immortals whom they had once considered as friends were now attacking as enemies. All for a young baby named Harry James Potter who was currently playing with Fiora.

In spite of all his anxiety, Myron was fascinated by the way Harry and Fiora interacted with each other. Even though both were young, they seemed to be able to understand each other perfectly. Both of them were playing a game and were smiling at each other as if they were talking to each other. Even though Fiora was young, she had begun to develop her powers already. Her beauty was astonishing even at so young a tender age. When she grew up, she would definitely be a ravishing beauty. Perhaps a certain green-eyed boy would be always eyeing her. Myron grinned hoping that they would survive this trial. After all he had young couple to wed, he thought to himself.

The attacks were all bouncing away as the shield was fully charged up already. It would probably last for a few decades. Myron was very worried, when would help come after all. Surely by now they would have gotten help. What were the other immortals doing? Where was the Great One?

Meanwhile, still trapped in his mind, the Great One concentrated on all his remaining mental powers and fired away at a certain spot of the cold mental hand, which was clamping on his mind. Previously he had attempted to break apart the hand, however, it was all in futile, as his brother's powers had obviously increased by a lot. So he had tried wearing down the hand. Gathering all his remaining powers, the Great One fired at a certain spot of the hand and with that there was a gaping hole right in the middle of the hand. The Great One quickly escaped from that hole and he finally was freed from his mind.

Gathering some of his powers, he quickly tried to teleport out of his palace to Myron's palace. Within a second he disappeared but appeared again right in the same spot. Attempting a few more times, he quickly gave up. Obviously, his brother had conveniently cast an anti-teleport spell over his palace. He had to go by the normal way then. Walk.

Currently outside the fortress of Myron's palace, Cuisul, the immortal of fire, one of the elder was contemplating the situation. He was the leader of the rebellion and was currently discussing his plans with Rocad, the immortal of water, over different ways of breaking into Myron's palace. Many of the immortals had collapsed as a result of their reflected spells. If a plan was not formed quickly, the rebels would be crushed when the Calvary came.

Finally, after thinking it through, Cuisul approved of a plan. An order was issued; all immortals were to cast their spells on a certain spot of the shield. All the remaining immortals quickly followed the orders. Soon a big array of spells was cast towards the middle of the shield.

At first the shield attempted to reflect the spells, however, the force of all the spells combined together quickly pushed back the reflected spells. The shield was never created to withhold such a great amount of power and soon it crumbled and disappeared completely. The rebels quickly rushed into the quarters of Myron as they began their mission of exterminating Harry Potter.

Myron mentally prepared for battle. He realised that the rebels would probably kill him. The shield had fallen and the rebels were now after Harry. He now realised the reason why the elders had insisted on Harry's death. It was because of the Dark Lord's orders. They were under him and therefore insisted on Harry dying. And now they were after Harry, wanting to finish off what they had started.

Soon immortals entered into Myron's chambers. They spotted Myron sitting in his throne. The battle soon began. Cuisul fired an enormous fireball at Myron. With a wave of his hand, a blue orb appeared and it rushed off towards the fireball. There was a loud bang and both the fireball and the orb were destroyed. There was a determined glint in Myron's eyes as he shot off another orb, which was even bigger towards Cuisul and Rocad who had just arrived. Caught unaware, both were blasted off into the stonewall.

Myron quickly jumped out of his throne just as a massive fireball and a water ball blasted the throne into smithereens. Myron took a quick glance at Unevra. She was handling the situation rather well. As the immortal of beauty, she had used her charms and the weak-minded immortals were soon attacking the elders. The elders were after all more powerful and could resist Unevra's charms. Both Harry and Fiora were blissfully unaware of what their guardians were facing as they played happily in the force shield which guarded them from any stray spells.

The battle soon reached to the stage whereby only Cuisul, Racod and a handful of stronger immortals were left behind. As for the rest of the immortals, they had followed the orders of the Dark Lord and quickly evacuated from the palace to the Dark Kingdom.

Both Myron and Unevra were seriously injured already. Sprouting injuries, they stood bravely to finish the battle once and for all. With a determined glint in their eyes they fired a large orb of magical energy towards the group of rebels. Some rebels were hit right in the chest and they collapsed. It was only Cuisul and Rocad left.

Death was inevitable. Both Myron and Unevra had finally used up all their energy and they were practically like mortals. They stood bravely awaiting their fate as Cuisul and Rocad approached them grinning smugly like cold-blooded murderers finishing off their kills.

With a loud roar both rebels fired away their largest spell ever, using all most of their energy, towards Myron and Unevra. As the spell, which was a mixture of fire and water, approached them, they closed their eyes and awaited death.

There was a loud thunderbolt. It flashed in the air momentarily and suddenly struck down on the spell destroying the spell completely. Everyone seemed to enter a trance, as they were shocked at the sight.

Harry Potter was glowing brightly and he seemed to be all grim and serious. He knew that his loved ones were in danger and he had to protect them. This came in the form of another thunderbolt, which came striking down on the duo rebels. With great effort, Rocad cast a shield, which effectively shielded them from the thunderbolt, which was trying to break down the solid shield.

Cuisul froze the two immortals and walked slowly towards the force shield, which surrounded both Harry and Fiora. Ignoring the pointed looks from Myron and Unevra, he broke the force shield apart easily. So this was the heir to the throne, Harry Potter. He remembered his mission and quickly gathered all his remaining magical energy left and blasted it at Harry. Intending to finish the baby once and for all.

Myron and Unevra looked desperately at Harry. They tried breaking away from the spell but it was too strong. They looked helplessly at the big fireball approaching Harry Potter and Fiora, who were still crying.

The Dark Lord was enjoying the scene too. Well, the prophecy was obviously a fraud. The infant would be destroyed not by him but by his subordinate. Laughing to himself, the Dark Lord appreciated the scene with great amusement.

Just was the fireball was about to come into contact with Harry, it suddenly got blasted away by another larger orb of energy. Gasping, Cuisul turned back to see who the intruder was.

It was the Great One, not to forget that he was fuming and had a cold dark expression on his face.

With a loud roar, the Great One sent Cuisul slamming right into Rocad. Both rebels were blasted into a wall and they were both fainted from the impact. The Great One was about to finish the intruders off when the Dark Lord interrupted in his mind.

"Well, brother dear, I guess the prophecy is true after all. I admit my defeat this round but don't be too complacent yet. I will kill you and your heir one of these days. If I were you I would start getting paranoid already," with that Cuisul and Rocad vanished from their spot.

The Great One looked around anxiously. He was relieved; Harry was safe and was not in any immediate danger except for his burning baby robe. The fireball had gotten too close. With a wave of his hand, the robe stopped burning and he approached Myron and Unevra.

"Nice to see you two still alive," the Great One said.

"What took you so bloody long?" Myron retorted with a snort.

"Well, I was kinda tricked by my brother and so took a long time to come to your rescue," the Great One replied.

Unevra spoke up finally, "Are Harry and Fiora fine"

"I think you will find them in perfect condition," the Great One chuckled.

Then his tone changed, it turned serious.

"Today has been a tragedy. Many of our brethren have abandoned the light to join the dark. Let us hope that none of this will ever happen again. The immortal kingdom shall experience many changes..."

There was a profound sadness etched onto the Great One's face as if he knew something terrible was about to happen. But before they could ask anything, the Great One spoke up with vitality again.

"Shall we get something to eat? I'm starving!"

With a shared laughter, Unevra picked up both infants and the group began the journey back to the Great One's palace for a sumptuous meal.

A/N: Hi guys and gals. Yeah, it's creative reader reporting for duty again. I hope you all have enjoyed this chapter and please do R/R. I will greatly appreciate it. Even a short review would do. To all my Reviewers, thanks! Your reviews even though some were rather negative, were encouraging. Please do continue sending them. My next chapter will be probably updated soon.

BTY, about the OC, I guess you all have managed to figure out who she is right? There will definitely be romance in the later chapters, probably even the next chapter. Well, this is all I have to say. Thanks!

Creative Reader

Signing off...