A/N: If anyone wants to beta this for me, just send me a message. Hope anyone who reads this is pleased, and remember to review.
Disclaimer: I don't own HP.
It had been a long three months for Harry Potter. Although he had acclimated quite well to life in Greece – a liberal use of charms gave him most of the modern comforts he was used to – he still felt a faint desire to be reunited with his friends.
That need had been steadily fading for several weeks now, although he still desired to return home. Even though it was easier than expected to make a life for himself in this time period, he didn't particularly want to stay here. There was simply too much danger, which was something he had been steadfastly attempting to avoid since Voldemort's death.
But, he thought as he left Iakchos' home once more, yet another large bag of copper coins jingling as he was walked, there was no use in moping. Despite having the most ridiculously dangerous occupation in Greece – hunting down and slaying local magical creatures that were causing problems – he had managed to thrive in the wilderness. His job certainly wasn't a chore to him, and despite the risk that accompanied each mission he actually enjoyed hunting down the powerful creatures.
Granted, he would give it up in a second if it meant returning home, but it wasn't too bad at the moment. So long as he never had to combat anything more dangerous than the average griffin or marauding centaurs he was more than happy to take care of the problems. It was when he would be asked to fight extremely dangerous beasts – XXXXX classified by the Ministry – such as chimaeras or manticores that he drew the line.
Although he was confident in his abilities, he knew he wasn't powerful enough to fight creatures like that without an incredible advantage.
Harry took his mind off of those thoughts when he saw a young man running at him. The boy, who was slightly younger than he was, didn't seem to be hostile but Harry put a hand on his wand as a precaution. He knew all of the townspeople these days, and this boy was an outsider in Athens.
He lazily scanned the boy, making sure that he wasn't making some foolhardy attempt to attack him. When the boy began to speak, Harry raised a hand.
"Who are you, and what is your business with me?" He asked suspiciously.
The boy spoke calmly, and his words carried an aristocratic air to them. "My name is Herpo, and I am looking for a man named Harry." the wizard didn't miss the fact that the name was spoken in distaste as the boy continued speaking, "Are you him?"
"Depends on who's asking," Harry said, mimicking the words Iakchos had spoken to him several months ago.
"So you are Harry," Herpo said in annoyance.
Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes, I am. Now I repeat, what is your business?"
Herpo scratched his chin. "I seek many things, but there is one goal that I believe you would be of great aid in. You see, what I seek most is guidance. Specifically," he said, aiming a piercing stare at Harry, "on my gift."
The wizard's eyes widened. He had no idea how the boy discovered his abilities, but he intended to find out. But for now, he would try to discover what the boy knew.
"What gift?" Harry asked. "I'm afraid that I have no idea what you're talking about."
This seemed to annoy the boy. "Don't play dumb with me," Herpo hissed, "I have heard tales of the great warrior who slaughters the divine beasts with nothing but his bare hands."
"Great warrior?" Harry asked dumbly. He didn't know who had spread that tale, but they were sorely mistaken. Not that they knew that he used magic to slay the griffins and centaurs, of course. But still, how could anyone mistake him for a warrior. He was taller than most men, true, and towered above Herpo, but he was far too weak to actually fight with one of the crude, heavy bronze blades.
Herpo rolled his eyes at him. "Yes, great warrior. To even injure one of the divine beasts is a mark of incredible strength and power, to actually slay one by yourself is as near a miracle as I've ever heard of." The boy examined him with his yellow-tinged eyes as he spoke, "If those tales aren't exaggerated of course."
"They aren't," the wizard said. "Now get on with it."
"Of course," the boy hastily apologized. "But I can see that you are nowhere near strong enough to actually fight one of the beasts and win in single combat, which lends even more credit to my theory."
Harry didn't like where this was going, but motioned for the boy to continue.
"You see," Herpo continued, "I have found that I can do extraordinary things, feats that no other man can accomplish. Should I desire it enough, I can heal moderate injuries, I can make things come towards me and make things fly away. But one of my most important finds is that I am much more resilient to injury than others around me, and am stronger than most, regardless of my size."
He gave in, realizing that if the boy had deduced this much then he might discover branches of magic better left untouched. If he was fortunate, a bit of education would satisfy the boy's curiosity. Of course, he would simply have to obliviate him or put the boy down if he tried to access any of the Dark Arts.
It was then that he made up his mind. "Come with me," he said. "I suppose I will need to give you some sort of education, if only to keep you from doing something stupid."
Herpo's eyes lit up in excitement, and his previously solemn and dignified appearance vanished. He managed to restrain himself from asking questions out in the open, but Harry saw his body twitching in glee from the corner of his eyes.
"Calm down," he said sternly, "or you'll draw attention to yourself."
Harry could hear the skepticism in Herpo's voice as he replied. "Please, teacher, the townspeople are in far too much awe of you to be suspicious. They will simply assume that I will be your new apprentice."
"Except you aren't." the wizard shot back, "I'm going to answer a few of your questions and then send you off on your way. I don't need an apprentice."
Herpo remained quiet, although Harry didn't pay that much attention to him until they reached his home. "Welcome to my humble abode," Harry said, sweeping his arm out dramatically over the small wooden home.
The boy didn't seem to be impressed with the house, which lent credence to Harry's theory that he was somewhat wealthy. Not that the house – practically a shack by modern standards – was particularly impressive in the first place, but it was still somewhat larger than the average home in Athens.
Harry motioned for Herpo to find himself a chair while the wizard waved his hand over the bag of coins he'd been carrying, transferring it into a hidden room he'd carved out beneath his home. It was an extremely simple spell, and one that he'd practiced relentlessly until he was fully capable of using it wandlessly and silently, but it was still more than enough to impress Herpo. The boy had likely never seen controlled magic after all, and if he did he would likely have no idea of what he had seen.
"How did you do that?" whispered the younger wizard. His pale yellow eyes were wide and slightly fearful, yet held a look of curiosity and awe at the same time.
The wizard smirked and flicked his wrist, copying the trick Artaxes had shown to him. A thin tendril of flame licked over his hands, winding around his fingers. "Magic, of course. It is the name of our gift, and works in many ways. For those who know nothing of the art, it manifests itself in random accidents or better physical attributes."
"So…" Herpo said quietly, "this "magic" is what allows me to be so special?"
Harry nodded. "Yes. Although it doesn't make you any better than the ordinary people around you. Just because you have been given a gift doesn't mean that you are free to abuse it."
"Of course," the boy nodded eagerly, the very picture of humility. "It is to help people, correct? We must have been blessed for a reason, after all."
The wizard nodded once more. "You should always use it to help people, although you can improve your own situation in the process. I'll use myself as an example. I slay the dangerous creatures that prey upon the defenseless, and make enough money to live comfortably in the process."
Herpo nodded slowly, absorbing the information. "I understand. But," he asked curiously, "how did you learn to manipulate magic to do your bidding? You said that you had to be trained to control it."
"I suppose I did," Harry sighed. "I would rather not explain that, it's a remnant of a past I'd prefer to forget. But you are correct, to utilize your gift to its full potential, you must have training. Some of us can control it to a certain degree, but they can never control magic beyond influencing it with their emotions."
"I understand." The boy repeated. "If you are uncomfortable with teaching me, I will leave now. But I would like to use this gift to help the unfortunate in this land, and I believe that you are the only one who could teach me," Herpo pleaded.
Harry reviewed his assessment on not teaching the younger wizard, moved by the impassioned desire to learn. He didn't know what it was about Herpo, but the boy was able to make him feel his desire to help others. It was then that he made up his mind.
"Very well," he said, and saw Herpo's face light up in happiness. "I will teach you, so long as you swear an oath."
Herpo eagerly nodded, and Harry clasped his hand in his own. He hid his other hand in his sleeve, and felt the wand heat up as a weaker version of the Unbreakable Vow was put into place. It wouldn't kill Herpo should he break the terms of the oath, but it would make him wish he was dead.
"Repeat after me. I, Herpo, new apprentice to Harry of Athens, herby swear to never teach magic I am taught to another person, entity, spirit, or thing without my master's express permission. I accept these terms of my own free will, and will freely accept the consequences should I attempt to break this oath."
His new apprentice repeated what he had said, and Harry withdrew his hand when the air around them seemed to thicken with a heavy pressure. It cleared away, and the heat that had infused his wand quickly dissipated along with it.
Harry looked through one of his windows and saw that it was still bright outside. If he moved quickly, he would be able to teach Herpo the basics of magical theory before the day was over. The new living conditions could wait for now.
It was strange how fast Harry adapted to this situation, how fast he imparted his secrets and art upon his new apprentice. Herpo was quite trustworthy, and was practically a magical prodigy. Although Harry never even allowed him to know of the existence of wands, the younger wizard could learn wandless spells with an almost alarming speed, and absorbed the basic information Harry gave to him like a sponge.
Harry didn't exactly know why Herpo was so gifted with wandless magic, but he supposed it was because he had never become dependent upon wands, as well as having a great degree of natural power. Either way, it was extremely satisfying to watch his pupil's progress. In a way, it reminded him of Dumbledore's Army. He had forgotten how much joy and satisfaction he had gained from teaching others, and resolved to find someone else to teach after he'd sent Herpo on his way.
At the moment, Harry was teaching the younger wizard how to heal himself. He had just finished giving Herpo his instructions, and was pleased when Herpo drew a short, bronze knife and produced a long cut down his arm. It was nice to see just how dedicated the boy was to learning.
"Now, Herpo," he began, "you have become adept at the manipulating the magic inside of you, which is the key to healing. The first step is to feel it flowing throughout your body, giving you the abilities that all wizards have."
Herpo shut his eyes tightly and grimaced as the deep well of power within himself was dominated by his will. It seemed to struggle – his teacher had told him that magic was difficult to constrain on the very first day of his education, something that had remained a constant throughout his training – but he simply reaffirmed his focus. The power was bound and ready to do his bidding.
"I have it," the apprentice said blankly, still focused on constraining his power.
"Good," Harry replied. "Now, focus on your injury. Visualize it."
"It's done."
"Now, guide your magic to the injury. Let it bind itself into it, infusing it with power."
Harry smiled when a glow of icy blue energy emerged from inside the wound, bathing the home in light. It slowly knit the flesh together again over the course of many minutes, leaving only a long, thin scar behind.
Herpo passed out from the strain, something that didn't surprise Harry. Training in wandless magic was far more exhausting than learning with a wand, as you had to produce all of the necessary energy yourself. When you used a wand, the magical effects of the core and wood amplified the power exponentially, and reduced the amount of energy needed.
Once you used a wandless spell many times, it became as simple as a wave of the hand. It was fortunate that that was the case, or else none of the early mages that first learned how to bind magic would have survived very long.
While he waited for his apprentice to awaken, Harry busies himself with coming up with new material to teach him. There was a limit to what wandless magic could do, and individual spells were near impossible to teach.
He didn't want to teach Herpo anything that could be too harmful, but if he wanted to affirm his own knowledge of magic, and his skill in the wandless variation of it, then he would need to teach it. Teaching was the best way to master something, after all.
Harry outlined a few basic lessons on how to effectively fight with magic, and was uncharacteristically excited at what would happen when his apprentice had finally woken up. He occupied himself by using magic to do minor chores around the house. It was the small things that aided in the greatest control, or at least that was how it worked with Harry.
And – judging from the piles of clutter and the general mess the house was in – he would have quite a while to practice his control.
It was several hours later before Herpo awoke, and it was clear that his exhausted apprentice was unable to perform any magic for the time being. Harry was somewhat disappointed, but not surprised. For now, he simply explained the new regimen to his student.
The next morning, when Herpo had woken up, Harry conjured up a harmless orb of cerulean flames and hurled it at his apprentice with a flick of his wrist. Herpo was shocked at the sudden attack from his mentor, and the orb made contact with his chest. A bright explosion of light erupted from the orb, and Herpo was practically shaking from fear.
When he realized that he wasn't burning, Herpo slowly opened his eyes and saw Harry grinning at him. Anger built inside of him, and small arcs of electricity began to leap from his fingers as the other wizard's grin grew wider.
"It's time for your training to begin."
Harry was taking a stroll around Athens, admiring the scenery as he always had. It had been a while since he had been able to simply look at the small city, and he relished the freedom that came with it. He had finished teaching Herpo everything he needed to know just last week, and it was quite satisfying to be free of responsibility.
He greeted a few of the people as he walked by, although he didn't stay to talk. Even though he had lived in the city for nearly a year, he had never traded words with the villagers aside from greetings and short exchanges of polite conversation.
It didn't particularly bother him though, since he had been training Herpo for nearly two-thirds of that time, and he was frequently out on excursions hunting for his employer the rest of the time. Of course, the fact that most townspeople were either terrified or in awe of him – or both – was somewhat annoying. Some of the more persistent children were sometimes rewarded with some conjured toy that inevitably vanished within a few days, but overall very few approached him.
His brows furrowed as he walked along, lost in thought. He hadn't paid much attention to the citizens since he had begun to teach Herpo, but he had realized that over the past two months they had begun to distance themselves even more from him than usual. As he had said before, they were hardly great friends, but they had still spoken to him. Now they politely greeted him and then scurried away like terrified mice.
Harry shrugged. There was hardly anything he could do about it, and it was probably just a coincidence. Perhaps they had spied on him and Herpo training and were terrified of their magic. It was a possibility, considering that he had rarely bothered with placing defensive wards that would keep the normal folk away.
He simply put the issue into the back of his mind, although a gnawing suspicion was now seeded. It almost seemed like it was an obvious solution. But he repressed the annoying thoughts, thinking that it wasn't important. Besides, he was sure that Herpo was waiting for him at the home.
When he finally arrived, Harry could feel that something was wrong. There was an oppressive feeling in the air, and a bitter taste grew on the back of his tongue. He fought the urge to retch, recognizing the feeling of dark magic. Harry drew his wand and felt somewhat more comfortable as the steady hum of power ran through it.
Harry sneered in disgust as he walked into the shack, and the urge to throw up became larger as the weight of the dark magic grew stronger. He scanned his home carefully, but didn't see anything that would indicate dark magic. The inside of his home was clean, which meant that it was something outside. It made sense. Dark rituals – there was no way a mere spell could produce that kind of power – required more free space than what was available in his shack.
What bothered him most, he thought as he circled around the shack, was the fact that there was any dark magic in this time at all. From what he'd heard in the very few history books he'd read, Greece had been the first wellspring of magical knowledge and culture. But from what he'd seen, even the basics of magical theory that had been set for millennia had been set down yet. In fact, most wizards wouldn't be powerful enough to produce the results that would lead to the production of magical theory.
So the fact that anyone would have the knowledge required to invent a dark ritual or have the experience to complete it without killing themselves in the process was disturbing. The only people that could do it were he and Herpo. But Herpo wouldn't do that, would he? He had proved his desire to help others many times others, and he had proved to be as resistant to corruption as anyone Harry ever trusted had.
Harry put the troubling thoughts behind him and resolved to solve this mystery without jumping to conclusions. It was more important to eliminate this ritual and magic before it could corrupt anything. Nip it in the bud, as it were.
At first he wasn't able to find anything, even when he used a spell that would allow him to see through any illusions present. There was no way that anyone would be able to create an illusion that would fool the spell in this time period, and the same spell detected any leftover traces of magic. Considering the lack of control wandless magic gave the user, any remnants would be all over the place it had been used. That meant that it was just a hidden place.
He continued seeking out the areas with the highest concentration of dark magic, but also noticed smaller details that he had overlooked before. Eventually he began searching through the vegetation behind his home, and grinned in triumph as he discovered a narrow entrance into the cave. Feeling a constant stream of power diffusing into the air, he carefully climbed into the tunnel. As he crouched and moved through the hidden tunnel, he tried to come up with a legitimate reason for the concentration of magic in his home. It was farther away than magic generally travelled, and the most likely of his theories was that the magic was attracted to the magic that had been practiced there for more than a year.
Harry was torn from his thoughts as he saw a pinprick of light at the end of the tunnel. When he finally reached the end and scanned the small, open cavern he had walked into, his eyes narrowed dangerously and his hands clenched tightly enough for the fingernails to cut into flesh.
Throwing caution to the wind and ignoring every instinct that had been burned into him through the long years of fighting, Harry stepped into the cavern to confront his apprentice. Anger at being played kept small licks of fire constantly dancing on his wandless hand, and his eyes were glaring around at the room, noting the primitive set up of it, before focusing on Herpo's figure.
"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" an enraged Harry shouted.
Herpo didn't say anything at first, merely looking at his master with eyes colder than Harry had ever seen from him. After a tense moment he responded. "You can't teach me anything else. You said it yourself. I'm sure there are plenty of secrets that you have hidden from me, but I will discover those myself."
The flames continued to harmlessly play down Harry's hand, slowly growing more intense as his anger grew. "So you decide to play with magic that you know nothing about? Do you not feel how wrong it is, how it creeps under your skin and twists your mind?"
The traitorous apprentice laughed, a sound that reminded Harry far too much of Voldemort for his liking. "I don't know what you're talking about, my dear master! This isn't harmful for me at all. I can feel how right it is, however! Have you never felt the rapture that comes with this power? I expect that I can even defeat you with it."
Harry's hands clenched even tighter, and the flames continued to grow in intensity until even the wizard was feeling a light burning sensation. "Tell me then, you traitorous fool, how did you learn of this? It would have taken you much longer than a few months to create a ritual like this."
"I suppose you do deserve to know that much," Herpo sneered. "Let's just say that you aren't the only wizard running around this land. And he is a much better teacher than you were! This ritual is the first of many he will teach me, and we will one day conquer this land."
The master wasted no more time. It was those kinds of threat a psychopathic fool like Voldemort would make, and he wouldn't let a menace like Herpo run rampant around Greece. With a flick of his wrist the flames coalesced into a ball and launched towards Herpo in an almost ironic callback to their first combat training lesson.
Herpo scoffed at the attack, redirecting it with a wave of his hand. Unfortunately, the ball of fire exploded next to several of the earthen lamps filled with oil that lit up the room. Both combatants' eyes widened as the inferno sprung up. Harry turned in preparation to escape, pausing for a moment to erect a decently powered barrier, and rushed out.
He could not hear anything but the crackling of the flames as he clambered out of the tunnels, preparing to seal it up for good. The only good thing about this mess was that the traces of dark magic would be completely eliminated by the flames. It truly was a shame about Herpo, he had such promise.
But for now, Harry thoughts as he gazed at the hidden tunnel entrance, he needed to find this wizard and put him down. It was unfortunate that he'd never studied much ancient history; it might have given him some sort of clue to this stranger's identity. But it was no matter. No matter how evasive this wizard was, Harry would spend the remainder of his life tracking him down if necessary. The dark arts needed to be hidden for as long as possible in order to keep history going on track.
He was distracted by the seal he'd placed being completely obliterated by a powerful burst of magic. Harry's eyes widened as a lightly burned and enraged Herpo crawled out of it, pale yellow eyes practically glowing in anger.
Harry threw his hand up at the last moment, barely able to stop the burst of lightning that erupted from Herpo's outstretched hand. He didn't waste the power it would take to stop the attack, but instead redirected it. The second it seemed that Herpo was preparing another attack, Harry struck back. A huge flash of light erupted from his hand, blinding the injured wizard. He then sent several curses at the weakened apprentice.
Herpo screamed in agony, but seemed to shake it off after a moment. He appeared to realize that he was outclassed, because the wizard began to use diversionary tactics. Harry easily avoided the streams of fire and poison, although he was disturbed by some of the attacks. They were far more advanced than anything the other wizard should know.
Harry was finally hit by a burst of the nonlethal magical poison that was hidden behind a stream of flame. He staggered backwards and easily dispelled the poison, leaving only a few hints of pain and somewhat serious fatigue.
Herpo, unfortunately, took the chance to run. He randomly threw wide blasts of fire or hardened air at Harry as he fled, which hardly even slowed Harry down. The poison wasn't fully healed, however, and Harry was unable to keep up with his apprentice.
He continued to give chase, slowly healing himself all the while. When Herpo ran down to the city to escape his master, Harry cursed. The situation was complicated enough without innocent civilians in the way. He had no desire to hurt the people of Athens unless he was forced to.
His former apprentice obviously held no such limitation, judging by the blasts of flame that he sent at any flammable buildings. Any attempts to stop him were met by a spear of hardened air, which blasted any it touched to the ground.
Harry was glad he had never hinted to Herpo about wands. It gave him an edge in this battle and let him put out the fires without wasting too much precious energy. He needed everything he could for this chase.
It continued for another half hour, although both had been forced to slow down. Harry didn't have the physical endurance he was used to, thanks to that damned poison sapping his strength, and Herpo was still injured. The master was sure that the burns had been healed once it was somewhat safe to do so, although it would cost him quite a bit of energy. But Herpo was smart and knew the danger of burns. They could get infected quite easily, which would force the younger wizard to expend even more energy in order to heal them.
Harry couldn't go any more. He just didn't have the strength to continue this chase through the forest, and needed sustenance. Silently enraged at himself, he found a suitable clearing and sat down. The wizard silently summoned a small bit of preserved meat and bread from his home – an impressive feat considering the distance and his fatigued state – and replicated them several times. Before he began eating, Harry conjured several defensive wards that would keep anyone or anything from attacking him. He needed to rest without interruptions.
When he had finished, the exhausted wizard practically inhaled his food. He had run for much longer than usual, and his overuse of magic and that damn poison Herpo threw at him didn't help him much. Even if his magic slightly enhanced his body it couldn't handle that kind of abuse.
When he was finished, he found that he couldn't keep his eyes open. Just before blackness overcame him, the tired wizard resolved to put down this menace before Herpo could become a true threat.