Harbinger of Destiny: Herald of Fate
Chapter Three
Necessity is the plea for every infringement of human freedom. It is the argument of tyrants; it is the creed of slaves.
William Pitt
It was a small mercy they had left him like this.
True, he had not been forced to stand all night, or chafe his bare chest against the rough bark of the tree he had been chained to, but there were worse things. The way he was tied up now, on his knees, hands held separate and forced above his head….it left little room for denial of his situation.
The largest mercy granted on him tonight was truly the bag that obscured his face from the large crowd that had watched his punishment. It was not intended to act in his interest, but it had allowed him to pretend that he did not know the people watching him. It allowed him to separate himself from the shame. At least somewhat.
He had not had to watch Hermione cry, though he felt her presence nearby, ominously close and strangely comforting. He had not seen Ron's stony face, nor his vacant eyes void of happiness as they were. That sight would have hurt him more than the punishment he had received.
He had not had to look into Malfoy's sneering face nor see him revel in his pain. He had not had to divert his eyes from his Master's angry glares.
He had not had to see his pride stripped away from him in front of his former friends.
He heard the rustling as the crowd he assumed had been watching him drifted away and he let his head drop to his chest in relief. It was hot outside for an autumn day and the bag covering his face did not allow him much air. His back ached and stung and he shuttered as he imagined the infection he could have if not treated. He would be of course….he was too valuable to have damaged….but the bugs….
He was shaken out of his tired musings as a hand touched him gently on the shoulder, making him flinch as he had assumed everyone had left. The hand was quickly withdrawn and the person, no the people, there were at least three of them, settled in front of him.
"Neville…" oh Merlin, it was Hermione, and he could hear the tears in her voice. Neville as well. He reached out with his magical senses and noted Ron's presence as well. He couldn't handle this right now. A confrontation with his former friends as he hung, limp and bloody? Preposterous really and yet strangely typical. He was Harry Evans after all, and life could not be expected to sway in his favor. "Neville, tell him I'm sorry."
Harry started. Neville could speak Elvish? Since when?
"Avi rento avis liko," Neville said dutifully. Harry almost winced at the pronounced accent mutilating the words. Still, it was good to not have to concentrate on the English and be able to communicate.
"Ut ante adia," Harry said in a parched voice. You speak well. If only he hadn't that terrible accent."Taq," Neville said, his voice brighter than before. Harry smiled to himself, then because he couldn't stand that accent for much longer, he surprised them all by speaking English, though his words were hesitating.
"You need not to apologize," he said. Oops. That came out distorted. Ah well, brush it off. "I would have done it for anyone."
Well, that wasn't really true, but they didn't need to know that. He would have jumped in front of that curse for any one of them. Maybe not Malfoy. They were too distracted by his English speaking abilities however, to pay much attention to his comment.
"You speak English!" Hermione stated the obvious in a shocked voice.
"Slightly," Harry admitted. "Easier to understand now, with people speaking all around."
"But I thought that Elves only spoke Elvish," Ron's voice sounded vaguely suspicious.
"Generally," Harry conceded, then hissed as the pain generating from his back came sharply back into focus.
This action seemed to distress Hermione even more so and she began to ramble. "I am so sorry…is there anything I can do for you? Do you want some water? Oh wait, no, I don't know how that would work…I can't take that bag off of your head can I? Maybe I can slacken the ropes a bit…"
"Too fast," Harry protested weakly at her tirade. "Can't make out words. I am fine. Please. Sleep now, if you leave."
He really did want them to leave. As comforting as their presence was he did not want to have to feel the shame their continued presence would cause him should he someday find a way to reveal himself.
"You want us to leave?" he could have kicked himself at her hurt tone of voice.
"Perhaps that's best 'Mione," Ron said for him. "Humans have caused him enough grief for one day."
"Ronald," she said, appalled, and Harry flashbacked to their younger years when she had used just that tone of voice in reprimand. He missed those days.
"Let's just go guys," Neville said, exasperated by their behavior. They turned to go, and Harry let out a breath of relief. And then something perked his attention in the form of his magical awareness.
His vision automatically extended past the bag covering his face and searched out the magical essence it was sensing. And it found it hovering about the form of Neville Longbottom.
"Ut an estaquiandi," he said in shock, and Neville flung his body back around to stare at him. Harry had little doubt why. Neville was a clairvoyant, a foreteller of the future. In the Elvish language, he was a Jequi, roughly translated to English as "one who walks ahead".
"How did you know?" the boy was clearly startled, and thoroughly shaken. Harry wondered at that. Why had he kept this gift a secret? His family had always put such pressure on him to exhibit magical talent. Why, when he had such a gift to share, had he not made it public? Most clairvoyant's did, otherwise they would be of little use. Unless…
"A gift of my own," was Harry's answer. "You will do great things Jeqiu," he said finally. "Do not doubt your vision. Trust yourself and you will find a path that leads ahead."
Harry let his head hang once again, and Neville, dazed, followed his fellow Gryffindors indoors.
(A/N: Assume this conversation takes place in English.)
"Using an elemental attack upon a human," Renaldi Freelasco was muttering angrily, "was complete stupidity Lord Ranus. You had no way of knowing how it would react to her magical core. I was almost tempted to praise that miscreant slave today. You could have seriously damaged any hope for a treaty with the humans."
"In hindsight, I recognize that the idea was faulty," High Lord Heir Amin Ranus told his guardian curtly. "However, that does not allow my slaves free reign to act outside of my command. This is not the first offense of this particular slave, and if he were not so valuable as the head of my bodyguard, I'd sell him and be done with it."
"He is the only one trained amongst the slaves in the elementals my Lord," Freelasco reminded him.
"I know. Though why a human slave was trained in such a way, I'll never know. Especially one with a temperament such as he has. He has a history of defiance, and bringing him within range of other humans was not the brightest idea my father has had."
"He owes debts of obedience," Freelasco said.
Amin shot him a look. "I was not aware of this. Explain."
"He is not completely human if I remember correctly. His maternal grandfather was an Elvin slave who escaped to assimilate to a human lifestyle. He was brought in as a slave product from the Wizarding conflict, one of only two human slaves in the Elvish world. His lineage was discovered in the rudimentary genetic testing we do on all slaves.
"Once this connection was made, he was easily subdued. Seems that he has an aunt and a cousin of the same lineage, though neither of them have ever expressed any inherent magical ability, but you know that Elvish abilities have a tendency to lay dormant when exposed to human blood. He submitted to a debt of obedience in return for a vow to not intrude upon the lives of any progeny that the cousin or aunt. He submitted to another one in order to protect the aunt and cousin themselves. Other than that, we have few facts regarding his past.
"Anyway, the human is extremely powerful, probably due somewhat to the Elvish blood that he possesses in an albeit small quantity. Nevertheless, with his assured compliance in the form of the two debts, he was trained in the elemental arts and enslaved as any other."
Amin nodded in understanding. "And his defiance….?"
"A natural tendency my lord. As you know a debt of obedience merely means he cannot be separated beyond a five mile radius from the one who holds the debt, at this time they have been transferred to you Lord Ranus, though he can act in much the way he pleases else wise."
"Yes," Amin said in amusement. "That debt is somewhat of an oxymoron isn't it. Assured of proximity but not compliance, though they call it a debt of obedience."
"Yes, well," Freelasco cleared his throat. "That one knows his worth, rest assured, and he knows we will not damage him irreparably. I think this, perhaps, is what keeps him from the submission that the other slaves naturally fall into."
"A quandary then," Amin said coolly. "You are dismissed Renaldi."
Renaldi Freelasco made haste.
Fate was a cruel mistress. That was Harry's first thought as he awoke after a short nap. His position did not allow for comfort and he accepted his awareness wearily. It was almost dawn.
His friends had stood unknowingly before him without witnesses and he had kept his silence regarding his identity. A perfect opportunity. But the inhibition spell that was sewn into his slave cuffs kept him from blurting out secrets. True, the Elves did not know his past, but they were not about to take chances that he might reveal something.
He could say nothing that would lead them into figuring out who he was.
A small cough from his left made Harry turn his head futilely in that direction. Whoever stood there moved to stand in front of him, and Harry could hear the rustle of robes as he knelt down, putting himself on a level playing field with the slave. For this, Harry was immensely grateful.
The figure was silent, as though unsure of what to say. Then, a tentative voice that Harry was all too familiar with spoke.
"I understand what you're going through," it was Professor Snape, Harry realized in shock. "I know you don't understand me right now, but I want you to know that I would do anything to help you. I am all too aware of what it is like to have to play servant to someone you despise calling 'Master'. If I could have stopped the incident that occurred today, I would have."
The man audibly sighed and shifted himself back to his feet. "I know that this is an exercise in futility trying to get you to understand me. I just needed to express my deepest regrets."
The Potions Master began to walk away, but stopped at a slight distance to turn back and cast a sleep spell on Harry. As he lost consciousness, Harry thanked him profusely in his mind.
Alright, a short chapter, but really the good stuff happens next. So hold on, it could be a bumpy ride.
Also, thanks to all my reviewers out there. Seeing reviews really gives me a heart for this story and encourages me to make faster updates. Please, share your thoughts and opinions.