February 10th, 1991
Severus was enjoying the biting chill of the dungeons this late winter. All of his potions were slightly fuming a myriad of colors. The calm bubbling made a nice rhythm for his work. The ingredients were a tad on the expensive side these days, but he assured himself of its worth. His craft deserved it.
A few morning rays allowed to stew in fresh dew, some ruby dust smashed by muggle machines, because he felt like cheating, moss collected from the back of a sloth molded then sliced into fine ribbons. Cinnamon and nutmeg, both from an island turtle grove off the coast of Sri Lanka, for taste. A figure eight stir and two small counterclockwise.
"Perfection." He started with a small smile, tapping the spoon on the side of the cauldron.
"Sharp color, faint lemon smell, will test after resting one waxing cycle." He spoke aloud as he wrote in a worn book. He was almost annoyed at the thought of having to get yet another but was pleased with the amount of progress he'd made toward several breakthroughs.
Severus was prepared to move over to the next cauldron but felt something tap at his wards seconds before he heard the actual knock.
In an instant, all potions were put in a mass stasis charm.
He stomped towards the door. A snarl formed like a storm.
Before the poor 4th year could even see his face, they felt the chill of Snape's magic.
Bitter cold, a sharp breeze, and the smell of grease with a metallic twang. The doors creaked open and shadows cast over them.
"I hope that you have a substantial reason to disturb me." Snape drawled out. His day ruined once again by wretched children.
"T-the." The 4th year stumbled.
"The. The. Spit it out you buffoon."
"The… professors asked me to send for you."
"How thrilled am I to know they sent the only illiterate Ravenclaw in the castle to fetch me." The Ravenclaw in question's eyes slowly drifted to the "Do not disturb under any circumstances" sign.
"But since I know you can at least follow orders, 3 days janatory."
"That's!-"
"And 10 points from Ravenclaw for insubordination."
The Ravenclaw's mouth shut with a click.
A ghost of satisfaction showed on Snape's face. He turned to lock his door with a Norse spell that the 4th year couldn't recognize.
"Filtch will be notified of you joining him in the future. Make sure you are on time."
The bastard walked away, making his presence known.
He stalked through the halls. The castle itself was changing around him, giving dimmer lighting and a nice steady breeze for his cloak. While Snape handed out demerits and detentions like chocolate frogs on the train.
He stepped down a hallway and was barely phased as the castle swapped his moodiness with a bright, giddy atmosphere. Flowery, pepperminty, sweet tobacco, sugar cookies and old parchment.
"Like Father Christmas has me under lock and key." Snape thought.
He felt that the castle didn't have to rub it in. But Hogwarts would always yield to the strongest in the room. Bitterly stepping towards a door at the end of the hall his annoyance was replaced with a flicker of pure absurdity.
"Graham Cracker Sand," Snape said with only a bit of exasperation.
A gargoyle with a chipped horn nodded to him and spun into a spiral staircase.
A brisk walk up, to be greeted with several mix-matched tables all pushed together with many chairs at various stages of falling apart.
Lovely.
"Ah Severus, wonderful that you would join us."
There was Dumbledore sitting at the head of a group of tables. Casting an imposing figure while throned in a muggle lazyboy with cushions more worn out than an O.W.L student's nerves. Severus knew the signs. Slightly raised chair placement, a tad extra lighting, aura leeching into the room with clockwork precision.
"It's a very nice performance you've put on Albus." Snape thought, yet he dared not let his thoughts show. Thin ice and thinner occlumency shields.
Albus was quite upset about the …Potter situation. Or more the lack of progress on Severus's part, but all hands were tied. And let it be known that Albus Dumbledore wouldn't jeopardize the education of his students. At least not by having his most prominent Order members galavanting around, hunting for "The-Boy-Who-Lived" ever hyphenated, thrice blessed.
Albus believed in the many. An exceptional Hufflepuff he would have made, but instead, he became the best Slytherin; an intelligent Gryffindor.
"I believe these staff meetings are mandatory, Headmaster." Snape drolled out.
A few decks of tarot cards were shuffled at speeds many of the younger staff couldn't follow. Flitwick dealt them out with precision.
"Come now Severus, is a light break from your dungeons truly so foul to your health? A bit of conversation does the body and the mind well." Dumbledore waved his hand in a magic of his own towards a spot.
"I've saved you a seat, I know you like teaming up with Minerva for bridge."
A grunt of "Hn." brought Snape to a lawn chair neatly cut in half. The rest of the Head Professors collected their hands as he tried his best to sit with dignity. Unwillingly sliding into the back of his seat.
He turned his head slightly.
"Minerva."
"Severus."
A mutual nod punctuated their greeting.
And so they played. After a few intense rounds, curses were thrown about. Verbally of course. Then Firewhiskey got involved and some magic started to fly. Nothing too bruised except for egos and wand arms.
Snape looked down at the rest of the professors giggling as chaos erupted. How any of them survived this long was hard to fathom.
"Severus?" A calm voice broke through his thoughts. Caught off guard.
He turned to Dumbledore, refusing to show his embarrassment. Albus bailed him out.
"We were asking for your opinion on our newest students and looking forward to seeing any at the end of term placements." A little twinkle of amusement danced in his eyes.
"Most are laughable, children" he paused to glance over at the minor professors, "shouldn't be trusted with wands in the first place."
"Well, you know the alternative Severus," Flitwick interjected.
"I also know what children are capable of."
Flitwick drooped a bit. He could only wish he would have helped out more. Another failure and a sour note.
"I agree with Severus. Structure and discipline must be kept," Minerva added in, just thinking about the current trouble two redheads were getting up to while most of the staff was occupied.
"Not everything needs to be so controlling Minerva." Sprout looked at her with a bit of disappointment.
"It only took her 18 years," Snape muttered. Only Dumbledore could hear him. The Headmaster himself finally decided to speak.
"Children are a tricky thing. Curious and imaginative, even fey like in nature, one might think that is the reason why magic is so drawn to them." Albus ended the discussion. Only Severus got the hint. "Now, the wager for these next few rounds is a month's supply of Cockroach Clusters." Dumbledore finished with a smile.
Severus held in a sigh, leave it to Albus to pawn off his old candy as a prize.
It was cold. Hebridean cold. Not that Harry had been, but it was the coldest he could think of. His apple gamble must have worked, but he didn't know if it was supposed to come with new scenery.
Everything was far too white. Sharp ice and hard snow as far as he could bear to look. A tinge of blue choked the air. A full moon dominated the sky, looming over like a face in the dark.
His tattered clothes did very little to fight back against the cold. The wind reminded him.
It cut at him. And took away the little warmth he had left.
"Hello."
Harry quickly turned around. Just the wind. So he looked up. Just the moon.
"Colder." The voice called out, amused no doubt.
Harry finally looked down. A black cat with blue eyes was watching him as if it were 10 times bigger.
"Hello." Said Harry. "You wouldn't happen to know where we are?"
"Well..." The cat motioned towards him expectantly, far too eagerly.
"Dudley." Harry responded without missing a beat.
"Well, Dudley." The cat said with a smile. "You are everywhere and nowhere. Some call it the NeverNever. I call it home."
Harry didn't let the confusion show on his face. From what he could remember he'd defeated the Living Tree, the fall and then nothing much.
He felt where there should have been a branch-sized hole in him. "Am I dead?" He asked.
"No. Only dreaming." The cat circled around him. The blue haze thickened.
"Dreaming? This certainly feels real." Said Harry,
"Everything is as real as we allow it." Replied the cat.
Who was we?
"So can I believe you"ll show me the way out?"
The cat smiled. "A favor for a favor Dudley. You should always pay back your debts."
"Seems fair." Harry guessed. "What do you want?"
The cat slinked around him again this time he felt the cold nip at his ankles. The cat stopped beside him.
"Call on me." At Harry's confusion she continued. "Call out for our power like you did before."
"Sure." Harry nodded.
He had no clue what exactly he did, but he definitely wouldn't be doing it again.
"So, how do I leave?"
"Ah Ah Ah. Patience Dudley. That was the payment for your first favor, this is a separate occasion."
Harry's opinion of the cat fell. He swore he saw it flicker like a candle.
"You smell delectable Dudley." The cat pounced.
Harry, now back to the snow, could see how wrong the cat looked. They were the right shape but sometimes it wasn't. The more Harry looked the more the shadows leaked out of it.
"Fresh rain and budding flowers."
Harry crab crawled into the snow, anywhere away from the cat.
"Just a nibble Dudley, something you wouldn't notice. Like a foot or an eye. You have spares!"
Harry had enough.
Before the cat could get any closer Harry sent a streak of lightning.
It didn't have the effect Harry thought it would. The bolt passed through the cat's head clean, but the light melted away the shadows. The cat shrieked back. Much smaller than it was before, now following Harry's hands with fear.
"I didn't expect you to be a sorcerer, Dudley." It snarled.
Harry tried not to have confusion show on his face.
"Seems so." He quipped. "Now how about sending me out of here."
An arc of lightning skipped between his hands to punctuate.
"Fine." The cat hissed.
The winds whistled, the night grew darker, the ice came alive and the moon yellowed.
"A lesson Dudley." The cat jumped at him and, before Harry could fire his lightning, slashed at his neck. The pain was far too real.
"Winter demands its due."
Harry woke up in a familiar place. His cozy tower in a tree. In his bed hollowed out just for him. He vaguely remembered the huge amount of wood grubs needed to power the magic for it. Days of excursions through the woods. How long had he been here?
He first checked his ears, Lavender and Marigold not found. He hopped off and fell straight to the floor. As Harry groaned he heard a laugh.
"Reckless, loyal, headstrong, with some amount of cunning. I was going to write off a love of knowledge but your discoveries are somewhat thorough." A voice as low and sharp as it was familiar.
"Griphook?" Harry rasped out. His hands went to his neck, feeling faint scars, cold to the touch. Much colder than the rest of him
"Don't talk too much." Griphook waved over the two pixies. Both together carrying over a mug of water. Harry drank greedily.
"Not every day a goblin sees old magic used by a human." Harry buried his face in his mug.
"Not to mention that human being Harry Potter."
His water shot back into the mug. He fought hard not to choke.
"The lightning bolt scar was a dead giveaway." Griphook finished finding great amusement with Harry's squirming.
"Well, I can't really get rid of it," Harry mumbled into his cup. Maybe he'd get a hat? Lose the glasses too? Nah.
"If the Dark Lord's magics were so simple to remove..." The goblin trailed off.
A strong knock on the door put their conversation on hold.
"There's no lock Greta, you can just come in." Griphook called out.
Harry didn't see the point in making some. It was, at the time, just him.
"Some of us have manners!" Greta shouted. The dryad had shown up with a few more that Harry would recognize as the group that gave him the blessing.
"And others have enough sense to not yell around people who have just woken up."
One old bobcat walking on two legs stage whispered.
Harry barely stopped his laughter. Diving back into his mug to hold himself back.
"It's good to see you awake." The old cat gave a warm smile. "When Hedwig pulled you from that frozen lake, we thought our young savior would never rise."
"Hedwig?"
"Your owlbear friend." Griphook chimed in. Very loose definition there Griphook.
"It sort of fits." Harry turned back towards the cat. "You wouldn't happen to be some type of Winter spirit trying to eat me, right?"
Everyone minus Harry and Griphook turned serious. A few dryads even started what seemed like a boiling argument with just looks and some small gestures.
The old cat lifted Harry's head up slightly seeing his "new" scars. "Is that what gave me such a hard time healing this?"
Trailing down his neck, three jagged, blueish lines raked down punctuated at his collarbone. They didn't hurt like his lightning bolt scar sometimes did when he did some magic like the type Olivander did. Or more often tried to do.
Mr. Olivander was adamant to not let Harry use a wand and that seemed to be a big part in stopping Harry from copying just any spell he read or saw.
"And no child." She said before Harry could follow up. "The Spring nurtures, Winter eats. You'll be safe while you're here, although most of that is because of you."
"No problem, I did it as a favor really." Harry deflected.
"Well, please don't make these types of favors a common event." The old bobcat gave a disapproving look.
"Trouble normally finds me, ma'am. Against my best intentions." Harry had only planned to see a dam, flush it out and be on his way. Was it his fault a gloomy forest and a prophecy decided to wrangle him in?
"Call me Granny, everyone else does. When you feel ready there are quite a few people that wish to thank you outside."
That was a first for Harry.
"I won't keep them waiting then."
"The people here certainly don't hold in their gratitude." Harry thought.
Off to the side, he could hear the revelers before he could see them. His quaint tree tower and his garden were respectively closed off. He was already thankful for the sentiment. The Dursleys were never too keen on respecting his living space. Here it was pleasantly different. A new clearing had been made.
A sort of pavilion was fashioned a ways off. Enclosed in a building of multi-coloured glass, with sunlight painting it in a rainbow. Small ponds, with enchanted ever-flowing waterfalls and springs, gurgled softly. Woven tapestries of vines and wood carving for decorations. Inside three circular tables were decorated with glowing mushrooms, pitcher-sized tulips, flowing willow branches and large insects that shone like jewels. No doubt the dryads had their hands in all of that.
Throngs of partiers all clamoring together trying to get a good spot for conversation or a good view of the food. Crowded and lively, Harry was only a little scared off. It had been… sometime since he'd had so many people to talk to.
He cautiously made his way through. Surprised to find people waving pleasantly toward him. Like he would see the neighbours on Privet Drive do to one another. The awkwardness of the attention washed over him and eventually he remembered to wave back. Only after a few giggles from some dryads. Harry felt he was getting used to the Hero thing, but it was not to last.
As soon as he had walked in the party all eyes turned to him and in moments he was nearly mobbed. Several handshakes and well wishes peppered his spontaneous parade to the pavilion where he was seated in front of a pile of juicy looking strawberries, vibrant leafy greens covered in tender flowers, grilled fish and mushrooms and an equally large stone tray of cakes he was later told was made from ground acorns and honey. Elderflower cordials and a mild mead were topped up in mugs and hollowed out logs.
The spot, Harry was fortunate to find, allowed him to see almost everything but only those immediately next to him could view him in return.
He would once again have to thank the dryads who seemed to have much better insight than most.
"Must come with age?" He thought. How old was he?
His stomach growled and as if it was a signal, the feast began. The passing of plates and dishes, and talking, and drinking, and the giggling of gossip and the feeling of relief washed over him.
Harry never thought he could be missing something he'd never experienced. A nibbling of acorn cakes with almond paste and soon he felt comfortable enough to start small conversation with his dining neighbours.
A well-dressed man with a spider for a head to his right and a womanly frog with a bonnet and a flowing gown to his left.
He was enjoying a rather dirty joke from the lady frog when a ringing saw all the food clear and the tables tucked away. The spider and the frog bid Harry adieu and started to join the rest of the revelers in dance. Harry snuck away to not embarrass himself.
This was when Griphook found him.
"Not a fan of dancing?" He started.
"I was never taught. And anyway I don't like crowds and I don't fancy playing a fool in front of one."
"Son of James Potter, stage shy?" Griphook mumbled. Harry was a peculiar thing. If there was nothing worth more than its share in gold it was an oddity. Griphook decided to fish.
"So, what were you taught then?"
"A bit of everything really." Most of Harry's time with Olivander was on the theoretical side.
"So nothing spectacular then." Griphook prodded.
"I've learned a fair amount, thank you," Harry said hotly. This was getting him nowhere.
"Nevermind, my real concern is to ask why is Harry Potter in an uncharted portal realm?"
"It was for training my magic." Harry started. Griphook's face told that he wanted to interrupt but Harry continued. "But then a few days turned into months and maybe a year or two and I haven't the foggiest where the door out would be or when for that matter."
"You've had no contact with our world for your entire duration here?"
"Nope, I thought it was part of the training."
"Albus have you lost your mind," Griphook said under his breath.
"What's wrong, I've gotten plenty better with magic since I got here. I'm homeschooled anyway so it's not like I'll be missing much." Harry shuddered at the thought of Olivander giving him all his backlogged work.
Maybe it would be better to stay here. The stray thought wafted across him.
"I was led to believe that sending a child to do a Warlock's Trial was out of style. Something reserved for old families to get rid of near squibs and bastards. Not something Albus Dumbledore would condone."
"Who's that, the name sounds familiar?"
Griphook nearly had an aneurysm.
"Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, seven-time Order of Merlin recipient, Phoenix Knight Grandmaster and Founder, Current Light Lord!" Griphook started getting hysterical as Harry showed no signs of recognition.
Eventually, he snapped his fingers. "Right he's the bloke from 12 Uses for Drake Blood."
"Yes. That too." Griphook put two and two together. "He's supposed to be your Magical Guardian. At least that is what everyone is made to believe.
"Never met him," Harry admitted. Griphook had hoped to get more than that. Human children were supposed to be talkative.
"So who sent you here?"
"Olivander. I'm his apprentice." Harry gave a touch of pride in his voice.
Griphook's face fell. Before he could continue a grove of nymphs ran up to them. A few with pink flowers and one that had pomegranates woven into her hair.
Each doting over Harry, eventually taking an arm and dragging him towards the festivities. Harry even got up the courage to dance.
It was awful, but he had many partners to help him improve through the day.
Griphook just stayed by the wall, trying to look angry in front of the rainbow colored glass.
"The boy isn't even trying to leave." Griphook had hoped Harry would be a ticket out. After this sobering experience, he'd given up on exploration.
Oh, what he would give to be back at his desk at Gringotts. The food here was primitive, the people were practically yokels, and he was missing out on good coin Gold damn it.
Griphook wished something would just fall from the sky and give him a way back home.
And then a cloud came crashing through the skylight.
A cloud is supposed to be light, airy, buoyant water vapor and if Harry had the power to fly, believe that he tried, he would be intimately familiar with them.
Still even Harry knew a cloud shouldn't be as hard as pavement. Nor should it puncture glass, magically reinforced or not.
"Is everyone okay?" Granny's voice came out from the commotion. "And Harry don't touch it!" The entire hall turned to find him with a piece of cloud halfway into his satchel.
"I just need a bit of it." He blushed. "Besides any magic that was in it is gone or at least gone inert." A few muted words and glowy eyes confirmed it.
Mumbling started.
One large crow hopped forward. "Our curses follow us even here." Each word a different voice. "We must leave again."
"And where would we go?" Someone in the crowd shouted. "Not all of us were lucky enough to still have our wings!"
Confirming murmurs popped up.
"We can't just fly away like you could!"
"You were able to run from the gnolls just fine!" One of the formerly captured party go-ers shot back.
"Are you all done?" Griphook rang out from the noise. "Is the only option to bicker and flail about?"
"If some of you are cursed there has to be some way to reverse it." Harry spoke up. His face looked pensive. "You can't run or hide forever." He finished softly.
"He is right." One owlbear stalked forward limping only slightly. "I fear that this is only the start."
It was several days later and a few more rock like clouds before preparations were ready. The damage wasn't bad but it seemed to almost target the non nymphs. Quite a few times a beastmen or forest native had to be pulled from the rubble.
Harry went full detective. Everyone and thing were questioned and, much to Griphook's annoyance, he was nowhere to be seen outside of the interrogations.
"Hey Griphook, still looking for me?" Harry put away his notes. Griphook recognized it as where all the other discoveries Harry found here were.
"I've found you several times, it's you that continues to evade me!" A clawed finger punctuated.
"Because you'd just distract me and ramble on about how we have to find a way to leave."
"Well, we do!" Griphook sputtered.
"Okay. Any idea on how to start?"
"If I had my calling stones we could send a message out." Griphook slumped. "The gnolls must have took them when they left. I searched the entire ruin and nothing of value."
"These calling stones what'd they look like?"
"Dark gems, perfectly sized for a goblin's hands."
"Like these?" Griphook went to snatch them, but Harry was a little quicker.
"Where did you get those!? And why is there a crack in one? And hand them over, they're our ticket out!"
"I found them in the Gnoll Queen's room, right before I met you actually." Harry quickly moved his hand back. "And they didn't stay unscathed from my run against the Living Tree, which you left me to handle on my own. And you aren't getting these back until we stop the sky from falling." Harry said with finality.
"What does it matter? There are thousands of portal realms, millions! We could leave right now and find you another!"
"I'm not leaving this place to be flattened, especially when it's partially our fault it got like this!" Griphook was floored.
"A wizard with an ounce of morality." Griphook shook his head. "You won't last long in our world. Even if you are Harry Potter."
"Then I guess I won't, but at least I could help."
"Noble, but the green one is right." Both boy and goblin turned around to find an owlbear stalking close to them. "Still, I thank you for attempting to save my family again." A sharp beak turned to Griphook. "Even if your council advises you otherwise."
"Dying in a foreign land for people that don't bother to even write things down isn't good advice." Griphook didn't back down. "For a week the boy's been scurrying around figuring out how to solve your problems."
"To be fair I did figure it out eventually."
"Monkeys and typewriters, as the mundane say." Griphook's eyes rolled.
"Go on." Barked Hedwig.
"The Living Tree's plan involved collecting enough magic to do ...something?" Harry stopped lamely. "But, he collected it from specifically nature spirits."
Hedwig nodded, Griphook seemed lost.
"He was looking for the "riches of the sky," Harry emphasized with air quotes. "It was something powerful enough to let him escape, without consequences. Unlike the Gnolls."
Griphook and Hedwig shared a sneer.
Harry took a deep breath. "What's really up there?"
"I shall tell you on our way." Hedwig turned to go and Harry made to follow but Griphook took him aside.
"I don't know when this became the case but when were you taught to just trot along with someone that tried to have you sacrificed at best, and murdered as a close second?"
"You also tried to kill me the second we met?" Harry reasoned. "What's the problem?"
"You're still too trusting." Griphook finished half-heartedly. Eventually following ahead as well.
Harry, left alone, asked the only two not voices he could trust. "Am I too trusting?" He asked his pixies. Both nodded yes.
"We can not simply go up the mountains." Hedwig started. The rest of the party trotted on either side of Harry.
"We aren't, I just have to see if we still have our ride." Harry reasoned.
Everyone had already come to see them off. With rations and well wishes they left for what might be the last time. Harry didn't stay too long to reminisce in his tree tower. He collected what he needed and didn't look back. He didn't know leaving home was supposed to hurt as much as it did.
Still, off they went.
Down the small mossy cliff, a few handfuls went into his satchel. Past the Wintered Apple grove, he took a few more for the trip and a joking offer of one to Griphook for his breath. Across the grub filled fallen trees and the mushroom farm now being tended by a few familiar dryads.
Harry found himself back at the creek that started it all. This time with companions at his side. And yet no less of a weight on his shoulders.
He peered into the water hoping to find… anything really. A few seconds turned into minutes until both Griphook and Hedwig got impatient and Harry took the hint.
"Looks like we better start wa-" Harry started until a pair of something came and took him under. Hedwig made to follow but found the water only came up to her shins.
Harry only struggled at first, but when he saw who it was he spoke.
"I'm sorry I might have frozen your family, but it was the only thing I could think of at the time."
The water of the creek swirled him around to face a young girl with sand colored hair and a dress made of reeds. She wouldn't look at him.
"You broke my gift." The nyaid pouted.
"That wasn't my fault I-"
"I gave you a gift and I found it frozen and snapped in half in the waters." She waved her hand in the direction of the lake. "I put a millennium into that Harry. And you broke it in seconds!"
"It lasted 2 days." He thought. Something in Harry told him it wasn't the right thing to say.
"I expect an apology."
"I didn't know a giant tree was going to kick my arse down the river!" He stopped.
"What do I have to do?" Harry resigned himself.
"Stay."
It was simple enough.
"I can't, I have to leave." He'd made up his mind. And Harry knew if he didn't pull thru, he would be trapped in the picturesque Spring. The temptation was miring.
"Why? You can fix the sky and go back to your tree, where you would be given another feast and Hero's welcome. Never grow old. Pleasant weather. Adventure around every moss covered stone."
Harry shook his head. "That's not a life." He said definitely.
"It is yours, you chose to come here, you believed you needed this place, and your magic delivered you here." Magic pulsed to accent her words but Harry wouldn't be outdone.
"I came here to learn more about my magic and I thought I did, but it was useless against the Tree. I was lucky at first, and now I'm the reason the sky is breaking at the seams! I'm fixing what I can and leaving before I bollocks things anymore." His voice peaking.
"Then promise to come back." The water churned in thought. "This place is a home for you. You tended the fields, you made the roads, you grew here."
"That's why I want to save it!" He shouted. What good is a house if it isn't safe? What good was another thing one waited on to be snatched away? Harry refused to ruin anything else with his mere presence.
The water churned again, and the little lilypad boat formed from the waves. Its flower like a tattered sail, chips of its rim taken out with little icicles jutting from the bottom
"We are not as delicate as you seem to believe Harry. Although, your concern is touching." The being that Harry remembered was the magic personification of something as old as a river gave a small fit of giggles.
"I'm sorry-" He started.
"Do not fret Harry, being in the mind of a hero is a great honour. I hope you do not throw your life away so carelessly the way heroes tend to do."
"I will…try." Harry squeezed out. The look he got showed that it was definitely not as funny as he thought.
"Your life is destined for hardship Harry, but never forget that you can always come back home."
"Water remembers what it was." He parroted.
The little lilypad boat grew. Big enough to fit twenty Harrys comfortably swiftly rising from the depths. He only had time to wave goodbye before it swept him up to breach
"Be happy Harry." The nyaid whispered, fading back into the water. "We await your return."
On the surface, Hedwig was still frantically trying to dive deeper in vane. Griphook was halfway through giving goblin funeral rites. Both shook with a start at the sound of the ship as it ascended from the way too small creek. with one Harry Potter coughing up way too much water. He cleared his lungs and with a very satisfied look, the Boy-Who-Lived called out.
"We still have our ride!" Harry waved them up. "There's plenty of room."
London, England May 25th, 1991
No one noticed the shift, or at least no one dared to question it. People scurried home with unusual quickness. The lights of the city were dimmed this night. A miasma thicker than the smog of the city settled in the air.
Shadows stretched just a bit longer. And all things that were banished from the sun rose from the cracks and their pits. They all knew where to go. Their "queen" had called them. To not go would be defiance only a few among them could hope to survive.
If one curious person were to look out they would see first a few peculiar figures gliding through the streets at frightening speeds, silent to the world. Quickly their numbers would grow.
Ghouls and Thralls and Gargoyles mobbed together in a wave. Living up to their namesake. A plague of Black Scourge moved through London. From shadows and alleyways, they lept across each one leaving misfortune and a foul stench in their wake. Pool they did to one cathedral. The markings and symbols of the mundane's gods did little to stop them not with the little belief here. Well, not even belief alone could stop them now. And so they all filed in. Forced to stop in front of one Father Cullen.
His eyes were more sunken in now, his hair had little chips of grey peeking behind the thinning blond. Even without having his blood taken from him, he was being drained dry, all for that damned Harry Potter.
He stood taller. Seeing for a brief moment all the various Boogeyman he'd been told stories about in his youth. Things that his current occupation would consider heresy and that his time on this Earth would tell him were simply make believe. At attention, Daniel to the den.
Some didn't even try to hide. Fangs and claws and ivory horns shown proudly. Some had more animalistic features to them: a bat, or a wolf, or a crow, or mosquito. Some with grey foggy skin barely keeping themselves together. Some like a butcher stitched together his trimmings to fashion humans, some with wings and skin of stone. A very slim few tried to keep their masquerade. These were the ones he would watch the closest. Almost perfect, Almost Human, but then he looked too hard, and it all started to crack.
A little too pale. A little too tall. A little too slim. A tad too manicured. A charming smile with great friendliness and a depth of shallowness. There was nothing behind those eyes. Much like the real reason, they all knelt before him.
Not for him, but who he represented. The Red Lady. The Bloodbather, The Chernobog. They wouldn't mindlessly follow her but she could provide them with an opportunity.
Ùri kashdea
A fine dinner and perhaps a good show, an enchanted child.
"My fair lady thanks you for answering her call." He started. "I will not waste your time. My lady offers you all a chance to survive the sun." A raucous of bloodthirsty wails followed.
"A drop of blood for each of you. From the stock of Mother Spring and Paternal Old Wandwaver. Harry Potter shall be your chance at eternal life!"
"You think we fools?" A warbled voice came from the scourge. "Never would the wand wavers let him out of their grasp."
Before any more dissents could start Father Cullen started again. "Do you doubt the word of my Lady?" No one dared to continue.
"She would not ask you all here if she didn't think it possible. Fortunately, he is left with little defenses…"
"Lady Integra, I can't agree to commit that much manpowe-"
"And why not!? We have intel that a massive swarm of vampires and ghouls have been spotted here in London." Small hands slammed down on a desk. "The number of attacks has increased, the media's been having a field day, the magicals have been dead silent on all additional information and now you're telling me that you can't spare a few men to actually solve the problem!" She'd been told by her father that the bureaucracy would kill her before anything occult did but surely the Queen's men could be reasonable.
"Lady Integra please understand that your recent… promotion had ruffled feathers and the age in which you have hasn't made it any easier to plead your case."
"Fine." She took a calming breath. "The Hellsing Organization will handle this problem without external assistance, you are dismissed Sir Penwood."
"Yes, Lady Integra." He stood up from his chair, gave a salute, and was out the door.
Integra slumped over in her chair.
Big shoes to fill you know. A twelve year old girl being charged with complete overall command of the world's largest occult pest control. Plus the reason for being in charge left a bitter taste. Integra straightened up. "Walter, did I do everything right?" She started before the door even finish opening.
"You did splendidly Lady Integra." An older man with slicked back black hair, Owl-eyed spectacles balanced on a pointed nose, wearing an exceptionally crisp butler's suit complete with vest and fingerless gloves, placed down a platter of tea and snacks.
"You and Sir Penwood are quite similar, both of you have stigmas to fight." Walter expertly poured a nice cup and slid it over. "I expect that's why he's been fighting so hard on your behalf."
Integra nodded in thanks, taking a very unladylike gulp that Walter would be sure to get on her for later.
"So what'd we get?"
"Well," Walter took out a small bit of paper with writing hastily scribbled out. "Hm, A Sikorsky HH-60P Pave Hawk. Not bad. And the coordinates for pick up."
"Aw come on, couldn't he get something, I don't know, older?" A black mass formed together behind Integra. She would have jumped if he didn't do this every chance he could. "At least from a war I've actually been in." The red cloaked elephant in the room finally reared his head.
Long flowing black hair, pale skin, dressed head to toe in a blood red coat and hat to match, large enough to cast a shadow over his face, orange lens sunglasses and white gloves.
"I remember when we first figured out radar, had the Krauts and the Yanks thinking we all just loved carrots." A small pout formed in the shadow. "Now everything has it, takes all the fun out the hunt, the thrill of uncertainty and the chaos of battle." Orange lenses focused on Integra.
"You won't get mad when I crash it right?"
"How did Father ever deal with him?" Integra turned to Walter.
"Drinking heavily." He sniffed.
"Oh come off it Wally, I know you missed me too."
"Lady Integra, are you certain you can't just put him back in the cellar?"
"Having the world's strongest vampire in our roster is an asset I can't really pass on." She admitted.
Productivity had been through the roof, death tolls on new hires had been down considerably and, even with his quirks, Alucard had been a model employee.
"I have confidence things will go smoothly."
Walter gave a tired eye towards a now gleeful Alucard. "I shall support your decision ma'am."
A buzz came through much earlier than Dudley thought it would. Still in the middle of working on a bunch of wood dowels for , he dusted himself down and wiped his hands on his apron. Quickly swiveling his head to find if any of the other shop kids were around, he fished out the pager. Or he would have if…
"Dudley, we have a large order that needs to be done by the end of the week, double duty for the next few days." One of the older kids in the shop turned around the corner
"But, Hamish was covering for me tonight."
"Hamish, is covering for Sarah's share tonight, we need all hands."
"I've already been approved for the time!"
"Well the time has changed, welcome to a job kid." Their tone changed to something softer. "I know you're still looking for your cousin but at this point many of us think it's a lost cause."
The past few years since Harry left were filled with plenty of questions Olivander would only vaguely answer something about the proper authorities.
Harry's mysterious disappearance and the subsequent leftover work didn't endear him to the other kids for the first few days and then days turned to weeks and then months. After the first year half the workers in the shop thought he ran away the other half thought he'd be found in the Thames any day now. The second year was filled with more feeling sorry for Dudley. As to them, he'd been spending his off days searching for his cousin, a convenient lie Dudley had found himself falling into with ease.
Only Olivander would be up late enough to hand him Wiggenwalds and Pepper-ups after an exciting night out on the town. He seemed to support Dudley's revenge rampage as he only gave him a "revenge is not the way" speech twice, after that he just started handing over the potions with barely a glance up from his wandcrafting. Dudley would shamble to bed and wake up with his weapons sharpened and potion ingredients portioned out.
"It's not a waste, he's still out there I'm close to finding him." Not really a lie, "him" being whatever head vampire that was the source of the Scourge showing up in numbers recently, and not Harry.
"Hey, Dudley there's someone here for you." One of the other boys cut off their conversation. Dudley happily took the out and gave a cheeky wave to the older shop kid as he quickly made his way to the front of the shop.
"Hello Father, is there something I could help you with?" Dudley stopped in the foyer. Several people in long coats towered over the rest of the boys and in the center stood an older man with blonde hair flecked with grey and an inviting smile.
"Why yes my child, We've been searching for this place for quite a while." The priest smartened his robes.
Dudley's pager felt cold in his pocket, reminding him to take a peek. He could have noticed the way the long coats inched closer but what he read took all of his attention.
In the lime green light, the message was brief.
"Base compromised, run."
Chapter 6 Harry and the Beanstalk or a NeverNever Ending Story