HARRY POTTER
AND THE DEATH EATER MENACE
Harry Potter and all associated characters and situations are the property of J.K. Rowling. I make no claim to ownership.
Chapter 3: Jim Potter and the Beast of Shamballa (Pt 1)
Somewhere, Sometime...
The little boy had been lost in the woods for longer than he could remember, and as the night got colder, he'd ended up huddled under a tree sobbing quietly and shivering both from the cold and from fear. For he knew that there was a monster after him, a great and terrible monster that would devour him whole if it caught him. Then, the boy gasped in terror as a demonic howl erupted from farther into the woods. It was some distance away, but closer than the last time he'd heard it just a few minutes before. The boy began to weep piteously. He was alone and cold and the monster would be here soon. Then, as that thought rippled through his terrified mind, the boy heard another sound much closer. He turned and saw that the bushes just a few feet away were rustling as some thing pushed its way through them. And the distant howl that had so frightened the boy was now replaced by a different animal sound. A low, hungry growl.
The bushes parted, and the boy screamed.
2 July 1993
The Patil Estate
Madras, India
Jim Potter awoke to warm tropical sunlight streaming through the open window of his room accompanied by the faint aroma of jasmine and coriander. He sat up in his canopied bed and for the first real time took a good solid look through the gauzy curtains at the guest room in which he'd been sleeping fitfully for the last day and a half. Like Ron (who was in the room across the hall), Jim had no prior experience with International Portkeys, let alone Portkeys designed for traveling to the literal opposite side of the globe. Accordingly, he and Ron had both been quite sick upon arrival and for most of the next day. Even his mother Lily had suffered a strong reaction, though the effect was far more pronounced on the two boys whose growing magical cores were more sensitive to the experience. Padma and Parvati, having made the trip many times, were smugly immune much to Jim and Ron's chagrin.
The Patil estate was located on a beautiful spot of coastline off the Bay of Bengal situated roughly twenty miles north of Madras, a major Muggle population center. The sands were golden, the waters were azure, and the weather was invariably perfect. The Patils and their guests would spend another day here recuperating from the journey before taking a local (and far less nauseating) Portkey to Delhi and then moving on to Shamballa. The Patil sisters were both somewhat cagey on exactly what "Shamballa" was, leaving Jim and Ron with the impression that it was the Indian equivalent of Diagon Alley, a thought which amused the twin girls for some unknown reason.
Jim inhaled deeply of the fragrances in the air that seemed so different from the familiar scents of the British Isles. As he did, he thought back over his summer so far. He'd been home from Hogwarts for barely a day when Harry and his solicitor unexpectedly came through the Floo to demand a private meeting with James. They'd spent thirty minutes together in James's private study, a conversation which eventually turned into a shouting match before Harry stormed out again and returned to Longbottom Manor without even acknowledging either his twin or their mother. Soon after, Jim had gotten the truth from James. Theo Nott – or rather Theo No-Name – had been cast out of his house under something called "the Ultimate Sanction" and would soon be an object of scorn and hatred from most of Wizarding Britain.
Somewhat ironically, he would not be an object of hatred as far as Jim was concerned. While most everyone associated with any of the Noble Houses would be affected by the Sanction, it would affect neither Hogwarts professors nor aurors ... nor their children. Nevertheless, James firmly encouraged Jim to avoid Theo No-Name, as Jim's reputation had only just recovered from the Heir of Slytherin business, and the family didn't need the controversy that would accompany any association with the outcast boy. Jim gave his father a look of deep disappointment and then left without saying anything more.
After that, Jim had been oddly relieved to be spending most of his Summer Break away from his home and from James Potter. He still loved his father dearly, but, as was often the case for young teenagers, Jim was going through a phase of not liking him very much. And so, he wasn't at all bothered by the fact that most of his Summer Break would be spent away from the man, first with a week with Harry at Longbottom Manor followed by a full month in Shamballa studying with the Patil sisters' Uncle Gupta. He and Lily were scheduled to return to Potter Manor the day before the Jim Potter Birthday Gala (which was inexplicably being held again despite the hideous bloodbath from Jim's last birthday party!) and then spend a month there before school started. Hopefully by then, the tension between Jim and his father would be diminished, which would be good because he was expecting entirely new forms of tension this upcoming year at school due to the Theo No-Name situation. Perhaps most disturbingly, Jim was concerned about conflict with (of all people!) his house-mate Neville Longbottom. As he climbed out of bed and stretched out the kinks of a day and a half of Portkey sickness, Jim thought back to his visit to the Longbottoms and the other boy's unusually intense feelings about Theo No-Name.
Then ...
Jim had arrived at Longbottom Manor by Floo back on June 23rd just in time for brunch before spending the rest of the day outside. Lady Longbottom had wanted Jim to help Neville improve his broom-handling skills, Neville wanted to spend time in the greenhouse (and to be fair, Jim's own Herbology grades needed work), and Harry just wanted to lounge around the pool and work on his tan that never seemed to darken. It wasn't until that evening that Jim had finally gotten a tour of Longbottom Manor.
"Thank you once again for having me, Lady Longbottom," Jim had said over the breakfast table as he reviewed the startling large assortment of jams and jellies produced by Longbottom Farms before finally reaching for the one marked "Peppered Peach and Rosemary."
Lady Augusta waved her hand diffidently. "Not at all, my boy. I'm delighted to have you here. My hope is that you and Harry together can help Neville to get over his reticence about broom-riding. It is a valuable skill even outside of Quidditch, and it's high time he mastered it."
Jim and Harry laughed at Neville's grimace. He'd known since school ended that Jim would be visiting them at some point during the Summer break, but he had been quite surprised when his grandmother had cornered him the night before to announce that after welcoming the Boy-Who-Lived with a nice brunch, he was to spend the rest of the day outside getting some exercise which would include broom-riding lessons from the best two flyers in his year.
After some amiable chit-chat over brunch (Jim noticed that Augusta and Harry both resolutely avoided asking how his parents were doing), the three boys headed upstairs to get their broomsticks. Harry tarried in the rear, and before he left the sunroom, he turned back to Augusta.
"How long should I keep him occupied?" he asked quietly.
She glanced up at the wall clock which read 11:15. "Until sunset if possible. I'll have a house elf send you a picnic lunch around two o'clock."
Harry nodded and followed his friend and his brother upstairs.
All things considered, Jim thought his week with Harry was enjoyable with only one hiccup. At one point, Jim mentioned Theo No-Name to ask if Harry knew how the boy was doing, and he was startled by the angry response from Neville to effect that "everybody knows the boy's dark and he probably deserved his punishment, so why do people have to keep talking about it?!" Jim glanced over to Harry with wide eyes, but his twin simply and discreetly shook his head "no." Later, while Neville was engrossed with a particularly difficult plant in the greenhouse, Jim pulled Harry aside and asked about the boy's uncharacteristically harsh reaction.
Harry sighed in frustration. "You and I are are basically immune to the Sanction because James is Chief Auror and Lily is a Hogwarts professor, plus we've both had Occlumency training. Neville not only has no Occlumency skill at all, he's also wearing his official Heir's Ring which ties him into the Wizengamot's communal magic network. That actually heightens the reaction. Except for any students who are actual Nott vassals, Neville might be more strongly affected than anyone else at Hogwarts."
Jim looked back towards Neville and shuddered. Easily the kindest boy Jim had ever known, Neville Longbottom was now consumed by an obvious disdain towards a former close friend just because of a cruelly abused spell. It was horrifying and made Jim only more eager to get to India and begin his Occlumency training in earnest.
Now...
And that training, hopefully, would begin in the next day or so once the group reached the mysterious Shamballa. Shaking off his misgivings about Theo's situation, Jim dressed quickly for his morning workout before heading across the hall to knock on Ron's door. His friend answered groggily but appropriately dressed.
"Ready for our morning jog? I've never been jogging on a beach before!" Jim said with exaggerated cheerfulness.
Ron gave a sour look. "You know, after all those months when we didn't talk because I was possessed and wanted to kill you, I'd totally forgotten how bloody obnoxious you are in the mornings."
"Lies! You love me like a brother! And don't say 'bloody.' Hermione wouldn't approve, and I promised to nag you on her behalf until school starts back up."
Ron snorted and then followed his best friend outside for their morning workout.
3 July 1993
The next day, Jim, Ron, Lily, and most of the Patils were waiting out on the front porch of the compound. Parvati, alas, was running late, having changed clothes three times.
"She'll be meeting Sanjeeeeev on this trip for the first time since we started Hogwarts," Padma said mockingly.
"Padma!" exclaimed Mrs. Patil. "Be nice to your sister! You know how important it is to make a favorable impression on the Pasha's son! It's the first time they've met face to face since she was seven!"
Padma nodded respectfully to her mother and then turned back to Jim and Ron, rolling her eyes as she did to make it plain that she had not the slightest concern for impressing the Pasha's son. Soon enough, Pavarti came down and the Patils and their guests all grabbed hold of a long silken cord which was the Portkey to Delhi. With a pop and an instant of uneasiness (one that, mercifully, was nothing compared to the trip from London to Madras), the group was suddenly in an alleyway off of a busy Delhi street. Mr. Patil reassured the group that there was a Muggle-Repelling Charm on that alley to ensure that no one would notice their arrival before leading the group out onto the jam-packed streets of Delhi. Jim and Ron both marveled at how crowded the city was, with people, with vehicles, and even with large animals in the streets. Jim had some experience navigating London with his parents, but that was nothing compared to what he was experiencing now. And poor Ron, who never even visited the township of Ottery St. Catchpole without the company of his parents, was nearly overwhelmed at the crush of Muggles. At one point, Parvati had to grab him by the arm and yank him out of the way of a passing lorry that didn't even slow down. The girl gave him a pointed look, and he blushed in response.
Ten minutes later, the group entered a small, nondescript office underneath a sign in a language that the boys couldn't read. Once inside, Mr. Patil spoke to a bored-looking official in the local tongue. A thought occurred to Jim, and he leaned over to Padma.
"How big of a problem is it that we don't speak ... Hindi? Sanskrit? Or whatever language it is people speak here?" he asked. The girl simply gave him a knowing smile.
"Not a problem at all, Jim, I assure you."
As if to belie that, the official pulled out a large chunk of topaz bigger than a man's head and a faded notecard. He began reading the card in phonetic English marred by a nearly incomprehensible Indian accent.
"Weel each of yoo een turn step furward and tooch yoor wand ubon dis stone. Den repeat aftair me. Eye, state yoor name, swear ubon my majick dat I will keep de peace of Shamballa."
Jim and Ron looked at each other dubiously while the Patils stepped forward and took the brief oath, followed by Lily. Finally, the two boys followed suit. Satisfied, the official opened up a small wooden gate to allow the group to follow him down a corridor. At the end of the hallway was a heavy metal door with a keyhole in the center. The official pulled out a ring of keys, selected one in particular, and inserted it into the lock. As he pulled the heavy door open, Jim was surprised by a sudden blast of cold air. One by one the group passed through the door to whatever lay beyond. The Patils, who knew what to expect, let the way, followed by the three British visitors, each of whom gasped in amazement.
Beyond the door was an enormous patio-balcony with a polished marble floor. Stunned by the sight, Jim slowly walked forward to the edge of the balcony to take in the view, shaking off the chill as he did. Below him was not a mere alley as he had been expecting. It was a city. Shamballa was a true magical metropolis, easily ten times the size of Diagon Alley in area. But while the tallest building in Diagon Alley was the four-story Gringotts Bank (well, four stories above ground, at least), Shamballa was dotted with gleaming towers, many of which were ten stories or more. The skies above the city were teeming with scores upon scores of magic carpets, zeppelin-like airships, and flying chariots drawn by all manner of magical beasts. Then, Lily looked up past the city to the mountain range which rose above it and gasped. While not an expert in geography by any means, she was certainly lettered enough to recognize the summit of Mt. Everest when she saw it.
"We're in the Himalayas!" she exclaimed.
"Indeed," said the magical official amiably and now in what sounded to him like Received Pronunciation English. "And now that we are here, please allow me to properly introduce myself. I am Hapranda Suresh, Guardian of the Delhi Portal. On behalf of the city's inhabitants, Welcome to Shamballa!"
Jim looked at him in surprise. "Wait, this whole time you actually speak English?"
Suresh laughed. "No, young traveler. I am not speaking English and neither are you. Here in Shamballa, we all speak Language!"
Jim and Ron stared in confusion as Padma explained.
"The city of Shamballa was founded over 3,000 years ago by wizards and witches from across Asia, from the Persian Empire to India and China all the way to Japan and Malaysia. Their goal was to establish a truly magical nation separated as completely as possible from the non-magical world. The original city founders included a large number of powerful wizards and witches, all of whom spoke a variety of local languages and dialects. To facilitate their cooperation, the magic that supports the city includes a spell that allows everyone in this valley, regardless of origin, to understand one another, but for the most part, while you're here, you aren't speaking English or Hindu or Mandarin or whatever. You're speaking ... Language."
Parvati sighed loudly to her mother. "Padma's in lecture mode again, Mummy. I'm going to freshen up before Sanjeev gets here."
"Sweetheart," said Mr. Patil with a bit of exasperation, "you should have done that before we got here."
"I did, Papa. But then you made us walk for ten minutes through a Delhi slum and now I'm filthy." And without another word, Parvati strolled off imperiously to a nearby door marked with the universal sign for "Ladies' Room," her doting mother in tow.
Jim shook his head and turned back to Suresh. "So I assume that oath we swore has something to do with whatever passes for a Trace over here. How does it work?"
"Much more efficiently than the one you are accustomed to in Britain, young man. You are free to use your magic as you will here in Shamballa, for there are no Muggles to see you. The city itself will watch over you and judge the rightness of your actions. Cast a spell with criminal or malicious intent, and the aurors in the Tower of Justice are immediately notified of your actions and location. Only aurors, healers, and certain high-ranking city officials are capable of apparating within the city's boundaries except at certain specified apparition points, so escape would be very difficult. So long as it harm no others, do as you will is the whole of Shamballa's law, at least where underage magic is concerned."
Both boys were surprised by the news, causing Padma to smirk at them. "So I guess you understand why I come back here every Summer, huh?"
Ron leaned over the balcony railing, still awestruck by the city which looked like something out of an ancient fairy tale. "How many people live here?" he asked.
"About 50,000 permanent residents, of whom 30,000 are wizards and witches and the rest squibs," said Mr. Patil. "Plus another 10,000 people who work here in some capacity or pursue education here but who have homes elsewhere in magical communities ranging from Iran to Japan. Also a few thousand tourists at any given time."
Then, the group's attention was drawn to a truly enormous flying carpet, one big enough to hold a twenty-by-twenty silken tent with room to spare, flew up from the city below to park alongside the balcony. A dashing young teen stepped out of the tent, resplendent in traditional Indian garb with a ceremonial sword at his side and a sash over his chest covered in jewels and medals. While he was good-looking and brimming with confidence, Ron found something about the newcomer off-putting. For some reason, he reminded Ron of an Indian Draco Malfoy. Somewhat nervously, Mr. Patil stepped forward and bowed respectfully.
"Esteemed Sanjeev, Son of Kumar, you honor us with your presence."
The young man, who was undoubtedly Parvati's future husband, bowed just as deeply and respectfully. "Venerable Elder Patil, on behalf of my father the Pasha, welcome to Shamballa." Then, he turned to Padma. "And my heart is gladdened to finally see my beautiful intended once again after all these years."
Before anyone could intervene, Sanjeev stepped forward, took Padma's hand in his own, and kissed it ... only for the romantic scene to be interrupted by a loud squawk from the nearby ladies' room. It was a shocked and visibly angry Parvati. Sanjeev looked back and forth between the two Patil sisters in confusion.
"Wrong twin," Padma finally said almost blandly.
Sanjeev immediately dropped Padma's hand as if it were poisonous before striding over to the fuming Parvati to make his apologies. Then, as the group boarded Sanjeev's flying carpet, Jim leaned over to Padma.
"You enjoyed that way too much," he whispered. She didn't respond, but the ghost of a smile on her face said everything.
That afternoon at the Temple of Wisdom
As it was deemed socially inappropriate for the Patils to stay at the Pasha's estate so many years in advance of Parvati and Sanjeev's wedding, the Pasha had booked several suites for the group at one of the city's palatial hotels. The travelers' luggage had already been sent ahead, and after everyone had freshened up, Mr. Patil arranged transport for the group to the Temple of Wisdom, an enormous monastery-like building which Padma said served as both Shamballa's answer to Hogwarts and also the city's center for advanced Mastery-level learning. Gupta Bhaskar apparently split his time between the Temple of Wisdom where he taught apprentice healers and the nearby Temple of Health, where he served as Chief Mind Healer. The man himself was waiting on the front steps of the Temple of Wisdom as the group arrived.
Immediately, Jim took a liking to the man. Though obviously an important figure, Bhaskar radiated the genial and kindly aura of someone who had devoted his life to the health and peace of others. According to Padma, the healer was well over ninety years old yet looked to be less than half that age. He wore a long white tunic over linen trousers and an open sky-blue robe. A small insignia was woven into the robe's fabric, the international insignia of the magical healer. After taking a few seconds to hug his niece and his two grand-nieces, Bhaskar bowed respectfully to Jim, Ron, and Lily before shaking each of their hands in turn.
"Welcome to the Temple of Wisdom, my friends. Let us adjourn to my office, where we can discuss your agenda for your time here." At that point, Mr. and Mrs. Patil took their leave, as they had business in the city, and Parvati left with them. Padma, to the boys' surprise, stayed behind, saying that she had her own business here at the Temple of Wisdom before waving her fingers at them and then heading off on her own.
Soon after, the remaining four were seated in Bhaskar's office enjoying tea and watercress sandwiches. Idly, Lily wondered if the man normally took tea or was simply being solicitous of his British guests. If he was really over ninety, he very well may have had some unpleasant memories of India's time as a British possession. If so, he gave no sign of it.
"Now then," he began, "I have reviewed the letters you sent me, Mr. Potter, as well as my own observations based on the British newspaper articles which Padma provided. As I see it, your goals for this summer are three-fold. One, for both you and Mr. Weasley to undergo magical healing to address the various psychic traumas you have each experienced in the last year. Two, for you and Mr. Weasley as well to develop functional Occlumency shields able to defend against psychic intrusion. And three, for both of you to begin an exploration of the gift of Parseltongue which each of you seems to have acquired." He took a sip of tea. "Isss that about the sssize of it?" he hissed softly in the serpentine language that only Jim and Ron could comprehend. They each nodded silently, both acutely aware of how Lily stiffened nervously in the chair between them.
Bhaskar crooked an eyebrow. "Please forgive me, Mrs. Potter. It was rude of me to speak in a language you don't speak. Parselmouths who interact regularly with one another often slip into that language without realizing it. This is especially true here in Shamballa, as Parseltongue is the only language not automatically translated by the city's magic, a fact that we Parselmouths often forget."
"It's alright, Healer Bhaskar," Lily said unconvincingly. "I quite understand."
"I am pleased. Now, I think the next step should be for me to talk to each of you in turn. I will, of course, be bound by the healer's vow of confidentiality, but more than that, I think it important to develop a bond of trust with each of my patients. And also, when it comes to Parseltongue, with each of my students. Mrs. Potter, as the other grown-up in the room, you have the privilege of going first."
At the healer's direction, Ron and Jim stepped out into the waiting area outside Bhaskar's office while the two adults had a brief discussion. While the two adults were talking, several people came by to speak with the healer's squib receptionist, one of whom caught Jim's eye immediately. It was muscular bald man who wore Eastern-style clothing appropriate to a martial artist and who had a number of scars on his face and his exposed arms. The most intriguing thing about the man, however, was the fact that, other than Ron and Lily, he was the only other person Jim had seen so far in Shamballa whose skin tone marked him as a European rather than Asian. The man brusquely identified himself as Brother Chandra and said that due to unexpected developments, he would be canceling his appointment with the healer scheduled for that afternoon. Then, as he turned to leave, he noticed the two boys and gave Jim what he thought was a surprisingly angry glare before storming out. Jim wondered if he'd ever met the man before, but he didn't look at all familiar.
After fifteen minutes, Lily exited the healer's office bearing a thoughtful expression. Jim's talk lasted longer, about thirty minutes, as did Ron's subsequent meeting. Jim came out surprisingly upbeat. Ron, less so.
Lily and the Healer
"Mrs. Potter, in the interests of time and efficiency, I will come straight to the point. As your son's mind healer, it is my strong recommendation that you spend as little time as possible personally observing Jim's treatment and training here at the Temple. Ideally none at all."
Lily blinked in surprise. "Excuse me?! This is my son we're talking about!"
"I am well aware of that. I am also aware though several weeks of research of what it means to be the Boy-Who-Lived. And also by extension, what it means to be the Mother-of-the-Boy-Who-Lived. Without even a formal examination of the boy's psyche, it is obvious that he values your approval highly. Which makes it a problem that you cannot bear the sound of Parseltongue spoken aloud without visibly flinching."
The woman fumed at that but couldn't deny the accusation. "I'm sorry, Healer Bhaskar, but I can't help it. Growing up in the era I did, the sound of Parseltongue to me sounds like ... like the sound of You-Know-Who himself."
Bhaskar blinked twice. "You ... Know... Are your referring to the Dark Lord Voldemort?"
She flinched again. "We ... don't like to say his name."
"Really? How very odd."
She shrugged. "Yes, well, his being one of the worst Dark Lords in history made something of an impact on people."
The healer scoffed gently. "With all due respect, Mrs. Potter. I wouldn't even characterize Voldemort as the worst Dark Lord of Europe within the past century. Grindelwald was indubitably worse, and the Dark Lady Echidna might well have been if she hadn't been caught early."
Lily stiffened with just a hint of brewing anger. "Healer Bhaskar, I lived through the War against You-Know-Who. I know first hand what it was like, as does every single resident of Wizarding Britain who survived that era."
"I have no doubt. I merely note, Mrs. Potter, that during that same period, we here in Shamballa were rather more concerned with the Dark Lord Li-Tsien Chang's efforts to claim the mantle of the Fifth Dragon Emperor and with the Malaysian Witch Queen Salanga's schemes to open a portal to the Yomi Realm and unleash an army of undead penanggalan. Not to mention the horrific violence perpetrated by various Muggle military organizations across Vietnam, Laos, and Cambodia during that era, violence which not only decimated local Wizarding communities but also unwittingly threatened the integrity of magical seals which had been containing ancient horrors since before the time of Merlin."
He took a sip of tea. "Britain is not the World, Mrs. Potter," he finally said. Caught off guard by his remarks, Lily said nothing, and after a moment, Bhaskar continued.
"But enough of ancient history. Let us return to the matter at hand. As one of the world's foremost experts on Parseltongue, I can assure you that it's not just fear of ... You-Know-Who that causes your reaction, Mrs. Potter. It is an inherent quality of Parseltongue that it triggers a powerful fear reaction within those who cannot speak it. That is the primary reason it is so difficult to learn. Most dedicated students with an ear for languages could probably master Parseltongue in under a year except for the unfortunate complication that simply listening to it for extended periods of time prior to mastery often causes extreme psychological distress. We generally do not even allow any student here at the Temple of Wisdom to begin a study prior to mastering the third-level of Occlumency or the equivalent." He smiled at an old memory. "Sometimes, of course, that aspect of the language can be quite useful. Many years ago, I once drove off a gang of Muggles who sought to do me harm simply by loudly insulting their ancestry in Parseltongue."
The healer shifted in his chair before changing the topic. "But setting aside your own psychological response to your son's ability, I am more interested in how he came to possess it. The British news articles I read seemed to suggest that he acquired the skill from Lord ... You-Know-Who through what was described as 'right of magical conquest,' a fanciful suggestion that seems like something out of a children's fairy tale. Tell me, does your other son show any signs of being a Parselmouth?"
Lily frowned at the mention of Harry. "None that I'm aware of. Though to be honest, Harry didn't grow up around us, so I really couldn't say definitively. He's given no sign of being able to talk to snakes since he's come back to our family."
Bhaskar nodded. "And if I may ask, under what circumstances was your other son separated from your family?"
Lily looked down at the table and took a deep breath before exhaling. "When Harry was a baby, I made a decision that I thought was the right thing at the time but which I've since realized was a disastrous horrible mistake, one we're still trying to correct as best we can."
The healer made a mental note of the apparent sensitivity of the topic of Harry Potter. "Is there any possibility that this is a magically inherited trait? That either you or your husband are descended from Salazar Slytherin?"
"Absolutely not. James's family tree goes back almost a thousand years. There's no evidence that any of his ancestors intermarried with known or suspected Slytherin families, and after Jim was revealed publicly as a Parselmouth, James checked with all the family portraits to see if anyone had any memories of a Parselmouth in the family."
"And on your side of the family, Mrs. Potter?" he asked delicately.
"I'm a Muggleborn, Healer Bhaskar."
He frowned at the term. "There are no Muggleborns, Mrs. Potter. One is either magical, nonmagical, or latent-magical. Here in Shamballa, we use the terms Muggle and squib only when the idiosyncrasies of Language compel us to. Your parents, grandparents, and other forebears may have lacked obvious magical potential, but somewhere in your family tree, one of your ancestors was a witch or wizard, or else you would not be here for this conversation."
He paused to study Lily's reactions. "As I'm sure you know quite well, Mrs. Potter. You strike me as a highly intelligent woman, one who is also a Hogwarts Professor. The unlettered masses may entertain fantasies of nonmagicals stealing away the magic from their children to leave them as squibs, but no educated wizard or witch believes that a Muggleborn is anything other than the magical offspring born of a lineage of latent wizards. Though, of course, a great many educated wizards and witches still feign belief in such fantasies for personal or political reasons when they really know better."
"Well, be that as it may, Healer Bhaskar," Lily said firmly, "I am confident that there are no wizards in my family history as far back as I've been able to trace it."
If Gupta Bhaskar noticed that Lily avoided eye contact as she made that declaration, he was too polite to comment.
"And besides," she continued, "if Jim's Parseltongue comes from my side of the family, why can't I speak to snakes?"
"Well, you're a woman, of course," he said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. She narrowed her eyes dangerously at what she assumed was some form of sexism.
"I beg your pardon!" she said testily.
Bhaskar studied her with some confusion. "Oh, I apologize. I assumed you knew. The form of hereditary Parseltongue that Salazar Slytherin incorporated into his genetic code only manifests in his male descendants. Women can, of course, learn Parseltongue the hard way just as I did, but they cannot inherit it naturally just by virtue of being one of Slytherin's heirs."
She paused in surprise. "Oh, no, I didn't know... Wait, Slytherin's genetic code? You understand genetics?" The witch appeared visibly shocked by his casual use of the scientific term.
The healer nodded. "Naturally. In addition to a Mastery in Magical Healing, I also hold an M.D. from Johns Hopkins in America, and I strive to stay abreast of new developments in both magical and Muggle healing."
Lily's eyes lit up, and she started asking him surprisingly insightful questions about the application of Muggle science to magical practices. Bascar smiled to himself.
"In retrospect," he thought, "I suppose I should have led with the fact that I have a Muggle medical degree if I wanted her to agree to my recommendations. Lily Potter is exactly the sort of witch who would consider a university certificate more impressive than even a dozen Masteries."
Jim and the Healer
When Jim returned to Healer Gupta's office, he noticed that the furniture had been rearranged somewhat. The desk and most of the chairs around it were gone. Only two comfortable chairs remained situated so as to face each other. To the side of one was a small table holding a tiny glass globe. Bhaskar gestured for Jim to take a seat, and as he did so, the healer produced a long thin willow wand with which he affirmed his healer's oath of patient confidentiality before placing the wand next to the globe.
"Now that the formalities are done, Mr. Potter," the healer began as he the opposite seat, "I'd like to start with a general Legilimency scan to assess the current state of your mind and soul so that I can properly devise a course of treatment. Have you learned how to clear your thoughts yet?"
Jim frowned. "Not really. Professor Dumbledore worked with me some, but we didn't make much progress last year before things ... went crazy."
Bhaskar nodded. "Well, I shall endeavor to avoid looking at any particular thoughts or memories. And since you can't actively clear your mind, you can do the next best thing – ask me questions!"
"About what?" Jim asked.
"About whatever pops into your head. Your goal is to keep your attention directed towards my responses and any follow-up questions you choose to make so that you don't have an opportunity to fixate on personal memories you do not want me to see." And with that, Gupta held up his hands in front of Jim's face and waved them back and forth several times in a stylized manner before gently touching the boy's temples with his middle fingers. "Contact," he whispered softly.
Jim had been surprised by the man's approach to mind-reading which seemed different from both Dumbledore and Snape, and his first question was about his Legilimency technique.
"Your Professors Snape and Dumbledore are, understandably, steeped in Western magical tradition," Gupta replied without taking his eyes off of Jim's. "Specifically, the Merlinian system and its reliance on wands and incantations. While I am proficient with wanded magic, I learned Legilimency in India where our traditional magical styles rely on mudras and katas as magical foci instead of wands."
"Mudras?" the boy asked with some confusion.
"A mudra is a stylized hand movement with magical significance within Indian mysticism. A kata is much the same except that it involves the whole body and is more associated with Chinese mysticism."
"I know what katas are. We learn them in Taekwando. Do you mean you can use those to do wandless magic?"
"Not in the sense you mean. In the Merlinian system - try not to blink so much if you can help it - anyway, in the Merlinian system, one learns to cast a spell with wand and incantation first. Then, after years spent mastering a spell, the wizard is eventually able to imagine casting the spell so clearly that he does not actually need the wand or the words to cast the spell. Traditionalist Eastern wizards, however, do not begin their studies with wands or words but with meticulously exacting body movements. This general technique has many forms and many names depending on where in Asia you find yourself. In India, it is known as the Mayavani technique, while in China, its more martial equivalent is called Wu Xi Do. Here in Shamballa, Language generally renders our common approach as the Enlightened Path."
Jim frowned as he considered the healer's words while trying to hold eye contact. "So why would people ever use wands if it's possible to just use your bare hands?"
"Because the process of learning magic through the Enlightened Path is incredibly exacting, to the extent that we generally begin magical training at the age of four instead of eleven. However, using a tool instead of just the body allows one to produce magical effects with movements that are at once less complicated and less precise. In China and Japan, swords have been popular magical foci for many centuries, and nearly every magical culture has made extensive use of carefully crafted wooden staffs. The innovation of the Roman wizard Merlinus Ambroginus was to carve a staff down into a hollow wand and then fill its interior with biological matter from a magical creature of some kind. The result was a lightweight instrument that could be held in one hand and was inherently magical. Wands can be used to cast Charms with very simple movements that don't require the high levels of precision or physicality demanded by other foci. A wizard who studied the Enlightened Path was considered a Charms master if he could perform twenty-five or more Charms with just body movements. A wizard trained with a staff was considered a Charms master if he could use it to cast a hundred Charms. With a wand, a Charms Master is expected to know a thousand or more Charms. According to his biographical information, your Charms instructor Filius Flitwick has committed over 20,000 Charms to memory."
The boy blinked as he absorbed all that. Like every other British wizard, he knew who Merlin was ... sort of. Depending on which historian you asked, Merlin was either one incredibly powerful and long-lived wizard who influenced European and especially British wizardry for over a thousand years ... or else he (or she) was one of at least five individual wizards who'd all had similar names that got shortened to Merlin by sloppy record-keeping. The fabled wand-maker Merlinus Ambroginus was only the oldest name associated with "Merlin" according to his History of Magic notes. Jim was actually more intrigued by the reference to Professor Flitwick. He'd known the diminutive Charms Master for years and had completely failed to realize how exceptional he was within his area of expertise.
"So why do the wizards and witches here still use those other, um, foci?"
"Foci is the plural of focus. And it's for a variety of reasons. The most important is that we have kept ourselves separate from the West for most of our history. The Romans never came this far East, and the Ottomans were only occasional visitors. Muggle Britain has dominated both India and China but only quite recently by our reckoning, and not many wizards came with them. We have only had wand-makers in this part of the world for the past few centuries, and to be frank, their quality remains below that of the top European wand-makers like Gregorovich and Ollivander who are the inheritors of a 2,000-year-old art form. But more importantly, there are inherent advantages of our traditional techniques which, to many of us, outweigh the superior Charm-casting advantages of wand-working. Some of those advantages we'll be discussing as part of your treatment."
With that, the healer removed his fingers from Jim's temples and leaned back in his chair. Then, he took up his wand and tapped it against the globe which lit up with a soft light. Bhaskar addressed the globe, and its light shimmered in response to his words.
"This is Chief Mind Healer Bhaskar Gupta on 3 July 1993 recording the results of a preliminary psychic examination of one James Evan Potter Junior. Subject is a male wizard of British birth and descent approximately one month shy of his thirteenth birthday. Subject has an unusually strong core for his age registering between 9 and 11 on the Lubinsky-Chang scale, and he has completed two years of Hogwarts curriculum. Preliminary soul analysis indicates the following proportions: Air and Earth each between 15 and 20%. Fire a whopping 55%. Water less than 3%. Assessment of elemental soul sub-aspects to come later. Subject presents emotionally as a fairly well-adjusted boy for his age, but there are lingerings symptoms of PTSD and also aftereffects of exposure to a cursed Occlumency text which has resulted in a recent history of anger management issues. I am prescribing as an initial treatment an introduction into Water-style Wu Xi Do both as a relaxation and meditation tool and also to help realign the subject's Fire-Water imbalance."
Gupta tapped the globe again with his wand and it disappeared. Then, he turned to Jim with a smile. "Now, I suppose your wondering that all that jargon means. Where would you like to start?"
"Um, my ... Fire-Water imbalance, I guess?"
"There are four metaphysical components to the wizarding soul. In India, we have traditionally described them using the four traditional elements of the Buddhist cosmology: Air, Earth, Fire and Water. In the West, they might instead be described using the four bodily humours: sanguine, choleric, melancholic, and phlegmatic. Or to put it into more familiar terms, your extreme imbalance in favor of the Fire element is why you are a Gryffindor instead of a Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw and why there was never a chance of you being a Slytherin even though the Sorting Hat surely knew you were a Parselmouth."
"Actually, the Hat offered me Slytherin."
"And let me guess, you rejected the suggestion out of hand and practically begged for Gryffindor."
Jim blushed at that as Bhaskar continued.
"In fact, I would hazard a guess that the Sorting Hat sensed your Fire-Water imbalance – or however a magical hat might consider it – and encouraged you to go to Slytherin in the hopes that being around so many Water-aligned classmates might help you to realign."
The boy considered that. "How do you know so much about Hogwarts Sortings?"
"Personal experience. I was sorted into Ravenclaw in 1914, though I returned to Shamballa after my Fourth Year and eventually took my OWLS here. The British climate was not conducive to my health." Then, he chuckled. "By which I mean both the Scottish weather and the local political climate, but that's neither here nor there."
Jim pondered about that remark before moving on. "And my anger management issues?" he asked.
"Being Fire-aligned, you might be expected to have behavioral problems of that nature, but they were surely aggravated by the Occlumency book you had been studying as well as PTSD arising from your two encounters with Voldemort." He paused. "I notice you don't flinch at that name."
Jim smiled. "Somebody tries to kill you enough, you get used to it. At this point, I refuse to give the bastard the satisfaction of being afraid of him."
"Of course. Exactly as a Fire-aligned would say."
Jim's smile faded. "And that's ... a problem, then?"
"It is not a problem for one aspect to predominate, Mr. Potter. That's actually usually the case. It is a problem for one aspect to outweigh the other three combined and for one – the Water aspect, in this case – to be almost wholly absent. Based on my assessment and without having any personal knowledge of your personality and history, I would predict that you have a tendency to react on instinct instead of after considering all your options, that you have a heroic impulse that almost rises to the point of a martyr complex, and that you are generally impatient and impetuous in your decision-making. I also suspect that this imbalance is your biggest stumbling block to becoming an Occlumens, a skill that is generally considered Water-aligned. Would you say that describes your fairly well?"
The boy nodded. "And we're going to correct that with ... magical Kung Fu?"
Gupta snorted softly. "It's hardly Kung Fu, Mr. Potter. To the uninitiated, the style you'll be learning might look somewhat like Tai Chi, though its forms would look completely different to anyone who actually knew anything about Tai Chi. Basically, you'll be learning a system of body movements that will focus your magic through your body in a way that will relax your mind and harmonize the disparate elements of your soul."
Jim's eyes lit up. "Will I be able to learn to cast spells with martial arts?!"
The healer suppressed a laugh. "Theoretically... if you practice at least ten hours a day ... for the next ten or so years. Right now, we're focusing on a more realistic goal of you spending an hour or so every day working on katas that will help you to control your emotions and experience a less stressful life."
Jim laughed as well. "Okay, we'll start with that."
To be continued.
STATUS UPDATE: 2016 continues to be a miserable bitch. A few weeks ago, my mother suffered a mild stroke, and I was the only family member whose work schedule was fluid enough for me to stay with her for a week before we could get her set up for home health management. Understandably, I've had little time for creative writing and never even considered NaMoWriMo this year. Maybe in 2017.
In light of the foregoing, I honestly can't predict my update schedule for the immediate future. Originally, this chapter was going to be about 10-13k words, but I decided to break it in two just so that I could post something now and let everyone know what's what. Part 2 of "JP and the Beast of Shamballa" will be up within the next 10-14 days ... unless the election goes badly and I spend a week or two curled up in a fetal ball while sucking on a whiskey bottle like it's mother's milk.
After that will likely come a Ron-centric chapter about his own Shamballa adventures and a fairly short "Weasley family" chapter (SPOILER: They still get a trip to Egypt out of the Daily Prophet draw). There may also be a short chapter focusing on ... someone else, or that may get folded into one of the other chapters. While Harry may seem to be on the periphery for a while, he is very busy during the Summer of 1993, as you will soon see.
AN1: I swear to God and JKR, I wrote 95% of this chapter prior to seeing "Doctor Strange," and in particular, the Himalayan magical city of Shamballa was called that in my notes over four months ago. While Jim (and a few others) will be studying what appear to be wandless magical martial arts, they will not be remotely as flashy as in Doctor Strange or the Matrix, although a few Wu Xi Do tricks that Jim picks up may seem familiar.
AN2: Likewise, while elemental aspects are discussed as a fixture of Eastern mysticism, rest assured no one is going to learn Fire-bending or anything of that ilk nor any other form of elemental manipulation. While I love Avatar: The Last Airbender, that's not how things work in the POSverse. Wu Xi Do may provide Jim a few cool tricks, but he won't be wandlessly shooting fireballs or jets of water with his bare hands or flying through the air without a broom.