(A/N All Harry Potter characters belong to JKR I'm just having fun with them)
Chapter 22
Hagrid made his way comfortably through the forest, a huge pack of freshly butchered lamb hanging from his shoulder, as his feet followed a familiar path. It was food for his oldest friend, whose health was poor. Deep down Hagrid knew it was the end; after all, he couldn't even remember how many years it had been since they met, and spiders have very short lives. The forest was alive with sound; creatures were stirring and coming out into the night, for tonight was a full moon.
The empty sack was limp and damp in Hagrid's hand, as he returned to his hut from feeding Aragog. The land and trees were just a little blurry, due to tears in his eyes, but a flash of white caused him to look up, and his cry of disbelief caused several animals to scurry away and hide. There in an old gnarled oak tree, sat an owl; but not just any owl, for this one was special, magical beyond his experience. The owl's feathers were a pure white, only the wings were tipped with silver. Its amber eyes glowed more brilliantly than an average owl. It was a moment he would never forget as long as he lived, for even more rare than Phoenix's, were Moon Owls, mythical legends even in the Wizarding World. It was written that Moon Owls were associated with the fulfillment on prophecy. The beauty of this moment was more than the simple man could take, and tears fell freely as the white blur leaped into flight, circling the Groundskeeper before it flew away into the night, searching and seeking.
HPCS~HPCS~HPCS
Three hours into a cave ridiculously full of traps, and now they were stuck in a cavern, deep down with damp sand covering the floor, and a bluish artificial light suspended magically in the top of the cavern, another of Ian's created spells.
Bill and Ian who were trying to undo an enchantment blocking the way forward, bars of light crisscrossed the tunnel, preventing further passage.
"Arggh! I know this is trapped, I just can't see how." Bill exclaimed, his hair was damp despite the chill of the cave. His bare chest and arms were grimy and scratched.
"Let me take a look." Ian said, as he cast a spell causing runes to shimmer into view in the air.
"What…why are they floating like that?" Harry asked curiously, having not seen runes like that before.
"This is an enchantment Harry, not a ward." Bill replied, as he turned away from Ian who was working, to look at Harry. After seeing Harry's confused look, he continued. "It's like a Charm, but instead of casting it on something like…a bottle of water to cool it, an enchantment is layered into the bottle itself to keep whatever that is inside cool. Casting one requires far more power, and concentration; you start learning them in Sixth Year if I remember right."
"Oh, so its permanent if enchanted, but Charms expire after time?"
"Yes and no, if you enchanted a plastic bottle it might hold for a few hours, or if you put a lot of power into it, a few days. On the other hand, you can enchant a rock to stay warm for years with very little effort."
"Why is that?" Harry asked, although he was putting the pieces together.
"Material. The bottle is what Muggles call synthetic, or what we wizards call 'Muggle Made', meaning it has no link to magic, and it's not something natural." Bill said grinning, as Harry realized what Bill was saying.
Harry wandered off thinking about different materials being used in the Wizarding World, it seemed old fashioned, but there was a reason, and now he understood just a little more.
Harry found himself on the far side of the cave with Barns and Xo. Bill's instincts had once again proven correct; because even Ian's delicate examination was enough to trigger the trap. The sand erupted; skeletons that were unnaturally bone white crawled up out of it all over the room, all moving for the two Cursebreakers closest to the trigger. Harry and Xo were cut off, but Barns made it through, blasting his way across the cavern, just in time to hex the skeletons clinging to Bill's back. It was a furious few minutes, in which he lost his wand to the many grasping hands of skeletons, their empty eye sockets flashing an eerie green light. Ripping at his shirt, grabbing his arms, his eyes were wide as he fought the skeletons both physically and magically. They were so close, so fast; he couldn't move away. One hand grabbed his wrist, tearing his wand away, the wood splintering in its grip. Ian made a quick decision and tossed his wand to Barns, while grabbing a large hunk of old wood lying off to the side to defend Bill with, as he frantically worked on the door.
Barns screamed in agony, as blood gushed out of his neck, pouring over bony hands grabbing at him, digging in deeper, causing searing pain. Ian's wand fell from his hands, and he fell to his knees, wondering if this was his end, but too weak to rise. It was not to come though, Ian's body slammed into the skeleton, knocking it back, the driftwood in his hands swung forward like a bat in a smashing blow, scattering bones. Barns screamed again as the finger bones were ripped out, and mercifully he passed out.
Despite it all, Harry never even noticed the plight of his team members. They were all in trouble now; they were sore and tired after descending into the depths, going back and forth through narrow dark passages, and now being surrounded on all sides.
Harry flew into motion, blasting the backs of the skeletons, the yellow spell light flashing quickly, faster than he had ever cast. They were backed up to the wall, both casting as fast as possible. Harry was focusing on Blasting and Banishing one after the other. Xo was just Banishing, flinging whole skeletons into the air and back a few feet. Despite this, the skeletons were not as slow as before, they now moved quicker, being closer to the source of the magic that powered them. Xo's eyes were wide with fear; a look Harry knew was not common on the older man.
"I GOT IT!" Bill shouted, as he and Ian lunged through the door, dragging Barns with them, whirling to face the door. Harry watched them go in, wishing they had made it across with Barns; they were just able to hold back the skeletons. Skeletons who had now stopped at the door, gathering up, but unable to move through.
"Look!" Ian shouted, "It's a field, they can't leave the confines of it." His mind was spinning, trying to figure out the puzzle fast, hoping to save Harry and Xo.
Ian snatched up his wand from Barns' hand, adding his Blasting hexes to Bill's, clearing the doorway to see the skeletons turning, advancing on the other side of the room. He looked wildly around, Detection spells coming as fast as he had ever cast, searching for a Control rune, or a Powering rune, anything…
Harry saw the others turn to face him, and he struggled to increase the speed he was casting. The two spells blurred together; blasting and banishing all with a thought, a quick jab and upward flip of his wand. Still, it was not enough; there were too many, moving too fast. Harry heard a panic filled growl behind him, as Xo shouted a longer incantation.
Heat and fire filled the room; Harry staggered backward, blinded and gasping as the heat was overwhelming. He choked on the hot air nearly searing his lungs, his face showing a pained expression in the orange glow as he pressed himself into the rock, his arm covering his face; just as he saw a bear of some kind made entirely of fire, running through the skeletons, turning bone into ash.
Xo struggled for control, directing the flame, barely able to keep it off them. His face felt its wrath, blistering as it passed by, reluctantly doing the bidding of the caster, before vanishing in a violent blast.
"Merlin…" Bill muttered in awe and fear, staggering back from the door he had started through.
Ian jerked him back just as the fire vanished, leaving them unscathed except for the blotches in their vision from the brightness.
"Fendfyre!" Ian said as he rushed back into the room, right on Bill's heels. The sight before them was one of destruction, ash rained down like snow onto steaming hot sand, Xo stood shakily, his face a mass of blisters. Harry fared little better, his blisters were on his shoulder and back, seeing as he and Bill were still shirtless, not having had the time to get one on.
"Harry, you alright?" Bill shouted, his voice echoing loudly.
"Fine…" Harry replied, wincing as the blisters stretched as he moved.
Bill turned and made his way to Barns immediately, beginning first aid for his neck wound. The wound was sealed, but Barns was passed out, breathing shallowly. Bill sat down while Ian was conjuring water and glasses, no one was truly prepared for this much challenge, they would have to make do without potions.
"One of us will have to return and take Barns, he needs to be treated and given a blood replininisher potion." Ian said. He looked Xo over who was recovering from the taxing use of magic, as he drank. He stepped up to Harry, and cast Numbing charms to ease the pain of the burns.
"Harry, you will go back. The way has been cleared, but be careful as you go." Ian said, after a moment of thought.
"But…" Harry began, only to be cut off.
"It's not a debate. I have granted you more leeway than any other helper that has worked for a Cursebreaker, on any of my expeditions. I have treated you as an adult, because you showed early on that you behaved as one, and could take care of yourself. Understand Harry, I have put you into situations that were dangerous, and I don't apologize for that. You did well, and now I am trusting you with the life of someone I am responsible for. Now are you able to do this, to take him to get help?"
"Yes sir," Harry nodded, feeling slightly ashamed that he was about to complain.
"Good man, now tell Owen and Lonefeather that if there is no sign of us by noon, they may follow you back in to find us. Got it?"
Harry nodded, looking to Bill quickly and meeting eyes, as he levitated Barns on a stretcher back the way they had come.
"We'll see you soon Harry." Bill said, as Harry disappeared into the darkness.
HPCS~HPCS~HPCS
Leaves crunched under Dumbledore's feet as he paced in front of the cave, deep in the Albanian wilderness. The cave reeked of dark magic, familiar dark magic.
"What is it?" Asked Sirius, concerned by the long silence.
No answer came as Dumbledore paced, his thoughts far away, remembering a book he once read in his youth. A book of the foulest magic that was possible. This cave was a hiding place, for an object he long suspected there were several of. The book's passage was recalled clearly,
"the anchor of the soul… a Horcrux… while in use to tether the creator to this realm, is an extension of the wraith, any contact with it carries the potential to call the wraith, for when unbound the soul is linked…"
As much as he wanted to attempt to retrieve and destroy the object, if he did so before Voldemort had a body again, he would know. A risk he couldn't take until he knew how many there were, and where they all were. He stopped pacing and turned to the two Marauders.
"This is a place that it would be best to never speak of, something I must ask your word on that you will keep to yourselves."
Remus looked startled, "What about Bertha Jorkins' body?"
Dumbledore looked pained for a moment, "we shall lay her to rest ourselves. If word were to reach Voldemort that someone had come here, particularly if that someone were me… it would complicate matters greatly."
"Voldemort!" Sirius shouted.
"I am afraid so, this place reeks of his magic; it seems that the servant has rejoined the master."
"Wormtail…he is with Voldemort." Sirius tone was dejected and angry.
"I believe so, which helps solve another mystery I have had on my mind. A Muggle has vanished that I believe is connected. If you would, I would like you two to look into it, he was the caretaker of Riddle Manor, but I must stress, you cannot be seen. Voldemort is stirring, planning and moving in the shadows, right now he cannot be harmed by any means I possess, so it is best if we keep track of his movements, not force him into action."
"He'll be after Harry won't he? Like first year?" Remus asked in a soft tone, his face looking like that of an older man.
"Alas yes, I fear Harry will always be his first objective…" He left unsaid that the objective would be Harry's death, but everyone understood.
"We need to tell Harry-" Sirius began.
"No, not yet," Dumbledore said firmly, seemingly oblivious to the angry stares of the other men.
Dumbledore continued on, right before Sirius started an angry retort. "Would you burden him with this knowledge? He would dwell on it, forgetting to live in the present, always worried and focused on the future." Dumbledore sighed; it was something he had thought deeply on. "I have known for some time that Voldemort was not dead, and that someday he would come for Harry. It was why I left him with the Dursley's, his mother enacted a blood protection, that while he called the home of his mother's blood his home, he would be safe. Understand, I was tempted many times to pull him out of that house, to take him as my ward, protect him and shelter him from the world, I found I loved him as a grandson. You see, I watched as he grew up and struggled with being considered a burden to the Dursley's, but despite that he was becoming a wonderful child, and he was safe. In the first ten years of his life, there were no less than fourteen attempts to kill him from the Death Eaters that escaped justice. Always a plot to do him harm, many I stopped myself, but some slipped past me, and he was saved once more by his mother's protection. This is the reason I had to leave him. I am not infallible, I cannot always be there to save him, but the Blood Wards could, alas now that protection is gone. " Dumbledore turned back to look at the two men, noticing that the angry looks were gone.
"I should have helped… I should have come back, I just couldn't," Remus began, looking to the ground and thinking of his time wallowing in self-pity, living as a drunk, shuffling from place to place, rarely working and always drunk just enough to forget the past.
"I should have made him the priority, not revenge." Sirius continued, looking as sad as Remus.
"Let us not focus on regret, but the future. Harry is alive and strong, he will soon be returning from his time abroad. Returning to yet another plot, but this time we can be united. Harry is a kind child, trusting and considerate, so we need to protect him. Even though he has survived several perilous ordeals, he did so by luck and power, not skill." The sound of Dumbledore's voice and the twinkle in his eye reassured them.
The burial of Bertha Jorkins was a grim task, her remains were old and heavily damaged, but with Remus working the spells, her body was laid to rest. Dumbledore nodded, none of his magic would linger here, better safe than sorry.
"Portus," Dumbledore incanted over a simple stone, it glowed blue for a moment. "A Portkey to the Shrieking Shack, I trust you can make your way from there?"
"Yes we can," Sirius replied. "We are staying at Number 12 Grimauld Place if you need us, we'll be in contact about Riddle Manor soon."
Dumbledore nodded and the portkey flashed, taking the two Marauders away. His shoulders sagged as soon as they left. He turned to the cave once more, deeply troubled. He needed to uncover the mystery behind Tom Riddle soon; he had to for Harry's sake, if not all the Wizarding World. He turned to Apperate, then paused, and picked up another rock to make a Portkey with. It would not be a good use of his magic to use so much energy to Apperate so far away, not anymore.
HPCS~HPCS~HPCS
Harry's frustration was quickly mounting, he had never maintained two spells at once before, and trying to do so in a time of such need was troubling. Levitating Barns was easy enough, as was the Lumos charm, but both at once required a lot of concentration. He needed them both, but the light would dim randomly, or Barns would drop a short distance before he caught him again. The climb out was far more taxing than the descent. For one thing, he had no help, and the second reason was it all looked different from this direction.
"Which way?" Harry muttered to Barns, who was asleep or unconscious, Harry really didn't know the difference. Before him the floor of the tunnel was crumbled rock, and two tunnels led off and up, while a third led down again. This one was sand and undisturbed, so he knew it was wrong, but which of the other two? His light went out at that moment, before flickering on again as Harry focused.
In the brief moment of darkness, he thought he saw a little light ahead in the tunnel to the left, so he moved forward.
His soft blue light chased back the dark, and with a slightly snoring Barns, Harry made his way. The cave narrowed, the floor rockier than he remembered. He missed the flare of magic as he went, so intent was he on his casting. He was brought up to a stop suddenly, a noise, a scratching of bone on stone, caught his ear. Far behind him, yet it had to be in the same passage. How many were there, thoughts of a horde of skeletons descending on him in this passage, filled his mind, unnerving him. He had Barns relying on him and him alone to get them out. His hand grasped the stretcher as he ran forward, trying to put some distance between them and the noise. Onward he rushed, now knowing this was the wrong passage, but it was heading up so he kept moving. Sweat poured down his face, exertion and fear driving him.
Suddenly there was nowhere to rush, a sheer steep wall met his path, his light shown upward and upward. The passage turned vertical, nearly sheer, but up was the way he needed to go.
"Damn, I wish I had my broom, not that it would work in here. Damn wizards and their wards." He rambled as a way to calm down and think. The faint scratching was still there, moving with him. His thoughts turned to climbing, his eyes searching for a path, but there was nothing, just some notches in the wall. There they were though, at regular intervals, it must be the way up. It had to be, it was the only choice he had left, face the unknown noise or climb. The sound came again louder, closer. His jaw tightened as he looked upward, he would need both hands.
"Incarcerous," the spell bound Barns to the stretcher with rope.
Another flick of his wand sent Barns floating up almost out of sight in the darkness, a quick Sticking charm, and he was safely placed high up and waiting for Harry to climb up to him.
The one problem he faced was light; he did not know the spell to stick a light to the wall, nor to charm something to glow. He could charm something to follow him though. The small Bluebell Flame gave off a feeble light, but it was what he had as he climbed. From notch to notch, upward he went, testing every step, checking every handhold. Several times he stopped to rest, hanging there in the dark. His hands burned, scraped raw on the stone; his legs throbbed with each rapid beat of his pulse. One misstep and he would fall, but how far?
He wished he had counted his steps to know how far up he had come, to measure somehow the passing time. The Bluebell Flame cast only a small circle of light, he could see neither up to Barns, nor down to the ground. At one place a notch was half broken, at another it crumbled under his boot, the pebbles raining down, the sound echoing and distorted.
Abruptly he came to a shelf of rock; it was large, nearly two feet across. He sat to rest, sweat rolling down his back and chest, stinging in the burns from Xo's flame. The air was hot and close, his breath coming in ragged gasps. After a time he started again, he was nearing the top now and almost to Barns, he could just see his feet. He found a broken step; slowly, carefully he climbed past it, straining to reach above it to the next, when his foothold suddenly gave way! There was a sick feeling of weightlessness, as his hands scrambled for a grip, and they found the broken stair. His foot slid down the stone, stopping on a slight ridge and there he clung, splayed out vertically on the stone, not daring to move.
His face was pressed into the wall, his body trembling uncontrollably in every muscle. It was then that the true disaster was realized, in his flailing and seeking for a handhold, he had swatted out his flame, it was gone. He was in complete and utter darkness.
There was no light, and his contacts couldn't compensate for the complete lack of light, so he clung to the wall trembling with fear, the only sound was his gasping breaths, and a soft snore from above. Slowly he cleared his mind of the fog of fear, and he realized help was not coming. If he was to get out of this, he would have to do it himself. There had to be another handhold just above, all he had to do was lunge and grab it. Yet, what if there wasn't? It also occurred to him that there was no sound from below, maybe there never had been. His mind was racing; maybe this was the trap, to make some desperate wizard ascend into the darkness, only to find the way trapped, and to fall to a miserable death. How long he hung there he could not tell, it might have been a few seconds or it could have been an hour. Another pebble fell, slipping away from where it had been trapped against his body and the stone. Always he had hated being locked up in the dark, perhaps because of the Dursley's, but now, inside him his fear had turned his guts to water. His muscles ached; it was the only way he could judge the passing of time. It was now or never, he couldn't hang there forever, he would eventually fall, and soon he wouldn't have the strength to lunge upward. Carefully he shifted his weight, inching his body into a position to leap, his free hand feeling its way up, seeking any crack or knob he could find. A deep breath and a grunt was the only clue to his movement. He lunged up, his hand meeting nothing but open air, before passing the corner and landing on the ledge he had placed Barns on. He grabbed it fiercely and levered himself up. Lying on the ledge panting, he felt a cool draft of fresh smelling air.
"Lumos," he cast now that his hands were finally free, squinting at the light, but looking around at the path leading up again, but only a short way, he could see a star in the sky. When he looked back, Barns' eyes were open, his lips moving slightly, Harry pulled him back away from the edge, casting another Bluebell Flame and using his wand to conjure a cup and fill it with water. Gently he pressed it to Barns' lips, who took a sip before closing his eyes again. He aimed his wand up out of the tunnel, and cast up sparks, then sat down far back from the edge.
(A/N Thank you very much, to all those who are reading and enjoying this story, but especially to those who take the time to write a review. I have recently found a good set of stories I think are worth recommending, They Shook Hands, by Dethryl. It's a Harry Draco pairing with no slash, which shows a realistic Slytherin Harry, struggling with his morals and values as he follows cannon. On another note I've determined to title my sequel Harry Potter and the Debt of Destiny, the outline and a few key scenes are complete-ish.)