Rated for language, violence, and mild sexual references.
Disclaimer: If you recognize any names, terms, or concepts, that's because they are not mine.
CHAPTER 5 - Serpents and Summoning
An hour later, after Harry had returned home and planted himself in the shower, just taking in the warmth, he was laying in bed, thinking about the day. While physically exhausted and in a growing amount of pain, he couldn't bring himself to sleep when his mind was so agitated, skipping around and recalling bits of conversation at lightning speed.
He remembered having told the others that he would try to question the Death Eaters they had captured, but he had forgotten completely in the wake of the taxing conversation after. Hope those 'shadow mages' can restrain themselves from banishing their souls, Harry thought nastily. He sighed, regretting the uncharitable thought a little. They really didn't seem like bad people, and he had enjoyed their company in the last few weeks. He had become about as comfortable with them as was possible for him with near-strangers. He thought about how they had begged him to hear them out, how they had not spoken a single threatening word against him, or had attempted to bully him, despite their large numerical advantage. He thought about how Atem had given him express permission to tell his friends and family.
Atem had a really strange of speaking, Harry contemplated, going back over the conversation. Made some odd references, too. And he certainly acted like the king he claimed to be. Harry brushed thoughts of Atem's personal oddities aside, however, in the face of the day's incredible revelations.
He wished Em were back so he could send a letter off to Hermione and Ron. Hermione would know what to do, and Ron would make him feel better about being conflicted. But Em wasn't back, and they weren't here, and Harry had no other way to contact them now, not with Hermione living with Ron in a magical apartment building without access to a telephone.
I'm a Gryffindor, he reminded himself harshly. And Gryffindors are daring. I want to trust them, and I want to learn more about them. And the only way to do that is to go back tomorrow, and ask.
But that wasn't even considering the potential threat they posed to the magical world, and the threat the magical world definitely posed them. It didn't take a genius to guess how the Ministry would react to a bunch of effective muggles dabbling in soul magic, and the shadow mages did not know enough about the politics of the magical world to understand how they might be received. No, it wouldn't do to turn them in just yet, not before he knew how the DMLE would respond to soul magic used for defense, or how the mages would react to some of the wizarding world's rules and regulations. Harry would have to dip into whatever Slytherin side the Sorting Hat had believed him to possess, and watch and wait and learn.
Mind made up, Harry drifted into an uneasy sleep, dreams filled with monsters with lightning bolt scars on their heads and shadows twisting into the shape of skulls.
When the sun rose, Harry found himself distressingly unrested, but unwilling to remain in bed any longer. He got up, rushed through his morning rituals, and was in the hallway, locking his door, by 7 am. It was too early to head to the Kame Game shop, but he could probably wander over to the park and sit for a while. He desperately wished he could take out his broom and go for a calming flight in the early morning light, but the nearest approved flying zone was a far Apparation away, and renting out the field was a bit of a hassle anyway.
He was shaken from his wistful thoughts by the apartment door next to his opening. Ryou stepped out, Marik following closely in a way that made Harry think of how Ryou had once not returned home until morning a few weeks ago. They stopped when they noticed him, eyes wide and anxious.
Ryou murmured a soft 'good morning,' and Marik offered a wary nod in greeting. Harry nodded back, uncomfortable, not sure what to say.
"I was hoping you would sleep in a bit today, Harry-san. You were badly injured just the other day," Ryou spoke up. Harry stifled a relieved sigh. It was still the same concerned Ryou; he hadn't suddenly transformed into some soul-sucking monster, as Harry's chaotic dreams had half-convinced him. He shrugged in response.
"I'm fine now, just a little sore. Didn't really sleep well, though, so I was planning on walking a bit. Um. Before heading over to the shop." He finished strongly, staring straight at them, hoping his decision was clear. And it was, judging by the smiles that lit up their faces.
"Want some company? We were just gonna grab some breakfast before heading over, ourselves," Marik offered. Harry thought for a moment, then nodded in assent. He couldn't help the small smile that quirked up the corners of his lips when Ryou's own smile got a little bigger.
They ended up stopping by a small coffee shop filled with morning commuters in business suits. None of them seemed to have time to stop and sit, though, so there were plenty of tables to take advantage of. The three hadn't spoken much on the way there, and they continued in that trend once inside, Harry lost in his thoughts and Ryou and Marik content to leave him in peace. Ryou was kind enough to direct him to a window seat, he noticed absently, away from the bustling crowd of coffee addicts. It's the little things like that, Harry thought warmly, that make it really hard to believe you're evil.
Half an hour later found them knocking on the front door of the Mutou family home. Sugoroku answered, chuckling and smiling broadly when he saw Harry.
"Harry-san! It's wonderful to see you up and about. Surprising, though; that wound looked terrible. I had planned to visit you once I was done with my errands yesterday. Imagine my surprise, to have found you missing from the hospital and my shop miraculously repaired!" The old man eyed him in a good-humored, suspicious way before continuing. Harry just grinned unrepentantly, following Sugoroku inside.
Seated further in at the kitchen table were Yugi, Atem, and Bakura. Ryou seemed startled to see the latter there, but just frowned a bit and didn't say anything. Yugi grinned brightly at Harry, while Atem offered a small smile. Bakura just glanced at him, seemed to incline his head slightly. Harry took a deep breath, and spoke.
"I'd like to learn more about shadow magic," he said, directing his attention to Atem. The man nodded seriously.
"The best place to start is with Duel Monsters, as they are the simplest medium with which to contact the Shadow Realm. You will have very little luck attempting to summon using another summoner's cards, however, so you should buy your own. Find a monster with whom you feel a connection – a lower level is preferred, as they are less taxing to summon, especially for beginners," he spoke as they moved back outside, in the direction of the shop.
"Take your time picking out the packs you want. Sometimes, the cards will rise to meet you," Atem continued, a deeply solemn note to his firm voice. Harry got the feeling that this was terribly important for some reason.
Once inside, Harry stood in front of the shelf for a long moment, staring at the stacks of foil-wrapped cards. He raised a hand and let it drift over the display, finally selecting four packages that seemed to draw his attention through inexplicable means. He took his chosen packs and settled back against the counter, feeling a bit like he was participating in some strange initiation ritual. He looked nervously at the mages around him, all of whom were watching expectantly or excitedly. He hoped he didn't mess up and embarrass himself. What if the monsters refused to come for him, or what if they did, only to strike at him in dislike? He swallowed his unreasonable nervousness, and drew on his Gryffindor courage. He tore open the foil of the first pack and pulled out the cards, staring intently at the image on the first as it appeared.
Harry scarcely had time to survey the picture on the card and think, Oh, a snake, when the air in front of him distorted like sand shifting and he felt a sudden lurch in his chest, as though an icy hand had taken hold of his heart and tugged, icicle nails catching against the flesh and leaving him breathless. He gasped and stumbled, but a great mass stabilized him. He opened his eyes – when had he closed them – and saw the massive scaled face of the Venom Cobra staring intently at him from less than a foot away. He realized that several silver and red coils the size of small trees had pressed against his back to steady him. Harry watched the serpent blankly for a moment, before the Cobra opened its great mouth and hissed.
Greetings, Summoner, it spoke in a rasping voice oddly soft for its vast size. You called for me?
Erm, hi, Harry returned lamely. It's- it's good to meet you. You, ah, seemed pretty willing to be summoned? I mean, I didn't really do anything, I don't think.
He eyed it nervously where its neck had reared back several feet so its head could begin a circuit around his body. He felt it nudge against the Invisibility Cloak he kept folded in his back pocket, and then against the Elder Wand in his left front trousers pocket. Its nose brushed up his shirt slightly, approaching the Resurrection Stone, and he couldn't help but shiver when the thin split tongue flicked against his skin.
Yes, I apologize for my eagerness, but I was terribly excited to meet you. I've never been able to speak to a Summoner before. The Cobra settled back in front of his face, temporarily content with its examination, and looked him right in the eye. I am not disappointed. You smell of Death, and strength.
Uh, thanks. I'm not disappointed either, he grinned uncertainly back at the snake. Um. I like your scales. They look really strong.
The Venom Cobra reared back to regard him fully once more, the serious look in its golden reptilian eyes morphing into sheer delight. A returning grin seemed to spread across its thin, scaly lips, and it surged forward to rub its massive, cat-sized head against the underside of his jaw.
Thank you, Master. You are kind to say so. But you grow weary, and you were not prepared to summon me, so I shall leave in you peace, if you have no further need of me.
Yeah, that's fine. I just wanted to meet you. Um, I can call on you again later, if I need to? he asked, wanting a definitive answer. Venom Cobra seemed to like him, but he didn't want to assume and accidentally offend it.
The serpent nodded once more, before its form began to crumble away like sand. Harry grinned, satisfied and proud at his first – if accidental – summoning, and turned to the shadow mages to see their reactions.
He faltered when he saw the way they were all staring, blank and stiff and silent. They certainly didn't seem excited for him, if the tense air was any indication.
"Er, did- Um. I mean, I didn't do anything wrong, right?" At his question, the others seemed to come back to themselves.
"No, ah, you certainly summoned it, alright. We just weren't really expecting it to happen so quickly?" Yugi stuttered.
"I've never seen a monster react that way to someone before. I mean, it seemed to just jump right out the second you touched the card! And… I don't think I've ever heard anyone have a hissing conversation with a snake, before, " Marik finished a touch uncertainly.
"Er, that's Parseltongue. 'S a magical language, I just sort of automatically speak it in front of a snake. Venom Cobra said that's why it was so eager to appear, it wanted to have a conversation with me."
"There are entire magical languages?" Ryou said, startled.
"Well, there are races of magical beings that have their own languages, I guess, like the goblins with Gobbledegook, or the merpeople with Mermish. Parseltongue is more of a magical ability, I reckon. It's hereditary, usually," Harry said, watching Ryou mouth the unfamiliar words with astonishment. He hoped they wouldn't ask more questions about it; he wasn't in the mood to get into such a morbid subject as the way he came to be a Parselmouth. He was far more interested in what other cards he had.
He examined the remaining cards in the first pack, then moved on to the other three packages. No other monsters forced themselves out the way Venom Cobra had, but he felt a tingle of awareness as his fingers coasted over a few, like An Owl of Luck, Hazy Flame Sphinx, and – amusingly enough – Fool of Prophecy. He thumbed the corner of the latter, reading its effect more carefully. Pretty useful, he thought, but only by sacrificing it can the effect really come into play. Heh, sounds familiar. He felt a pulse in his soul as he stared at the card; he wanted to summon this one next.
Not right now, though; he still felt off from the Venom Cobra's sudden appearance, and anyway he wanted to inspect the rest of his cards more thoroughly first. He noticed that there was one more card that seemed to call to him, but Harry wasn't particularly keen on it; the Curtain of the Dark Ones reminded him too much of the Veil of Death that had stolen his godfather from him.
And speaking of 'Death'…
"I need to have a word with those Death Eaters," Harry said suddenly, regretfully tearing his attention away from the cards to regard Atem. The cards could wait; the terrorists still bound and gagged in the back room of the game shop had to be dealt with.
Atem nodded. "Yes, we must learn the reason behind their attack, and ascertain if there is any further danger." He made to walk into the stock room, but Harry stopped him.
"Er, I mean, I'll talk to them. I… It'll be easier to do what I need to without worrying about an audience." He very carefully didn't look at Ryou or Yugi to see their reactions to the implication that he wouldn't just be talking to the Death Eaters.
Atem paused, nodded slowly. "Very well. I would ask that you have at least one of us in there with you, in case of any…problems." Unspoken was the insinuation that whoever was observing the interrogation would both protect Harry if need be, as well as monitor his actions. Looks like they would all have to work on that whole 'trust' thing.
"I'll do it," Bakura spoke up. "I've a better understanding of necessary measures in such situations as this." He didn't bother to wait for Atem or Harry's agreement, just stepped into to the room, Harry trailing behind.
Harry straightened his back and let the emotions fall off his face. He knew from what Hermione and Ron had reported that it was terribly creepy and intimidating when he did that, something about his face seeming to say that he cared nothing for consequences or mercy. He regarded the two Death Eaters, both of whom were conscious by now.
T-Shirt was looking around dazedly with unfocussed eyes, the whole left side of his face bruised and swollen and crusted over with dried brown blood. Someone had taken off his tie and stuffed it into his mouth, but he did not seem to notice or care. Leather Jacket was glaring at him, lines of frustrated, hostile tension stiffening his restrained form. He tried to bare his teeth from around his gag, but only succeeded in contorting his face into an odd grimace. Harry decided this was the man to talk to. He kneeled down and spoke to him lowly in English.
"Good morning. You obviously know who I am, but I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage. So, here's how this is going to go. I am going to remove this gag, and you are going to tell me your name. You are going to tell me the name of the two men who came with you, and you are going to tell me the name of the person who organized this attack. You do that, and I won't hurt you or your friend. Do we have a deal?"
Leather Jacket continued to scowl, but did nothing to indicate dissension. Harry decided it was safe to remove the gag. He lifted his wand and let the tip trail down the man's cheek, drawing a sharp flinch. A weak diffindo sliced through the cloth with just enough power to leave a faint welt on his skin.
"I'm not telling you anything, you filthy whelp of a Mudblood whore!" he spit, a faintly mad look coming into his bloodshot hazel eyes. Harry carefully maintained his lack of expression, and nodded slowly.
"Alright. Maybe you'll be more willing to talk to my friend, instead." He brushed his hand against his left pocket and non-verbally cast Serpensortia and Timorem, the latter of which was a handy little spell to instill panic and dread in the target. Harry turned to address the fifteen-foot King Cobra that had appeared, furiously spitting, with the former spell, leaning close and crooning to it softly.
Hello, great one, he hissed in Parseltongue. He took vicious, hidden glee in the way the Death Eater had gasped and paled at the sudden conjuration and coldly hissed words, his reaction exacerbated by Harry's potent fear spell.
Hello, the snake responded cautiously, its hood closing in the face of curiosity. Why am I here?
I thought perhaps you might like to bite someone, Harry hissed back, beckoning the snake forward to climb his outstretched arm and drape itself across his shoulders.
I cannot say I am opposed to the notion, it spoke, rather imperiously. This piss-scented flesh-bag is the one, then?
Yes, but wait for my signal. Harry waited for the serpent's acknowledging nod before turning his attention back to the Death Eater, who, it seemed, had indeed wet himself a bit. Perhaps the spell was a trifle too strong, Harry mused.
"Now then. My friend here would very much like to know your name," Harry said in a way that would have been pleasant, if his face hadn't been completely stone cold. The Death Eater just shook his head, staring with tremulous horror at Harry and the massive snake, whose interaction had no doubt reminded him of his former master. Harry sighed a bit, then nodded to the snake. It lunged forward eagerly and sank its fangs deep into the man's neck with a dull, wet thunk. His cry of fear and pain came out garbled by the powerful jaws clamping down on his windpipe.
That's enough, Harry murmured to the snake. It obligingly released its prey, looking as self-satisfied as was possible for a reptile to appear.
"You've got a few seconds before you're dead. If you tell me your name right now, I will banish the snake, and the venom in your neck will disappear with it." Harry spoke coldly, bluntly, hoping his merciless tone and actions would convince the man. Instead, Harry received two weak, gasping words.
"Un- gasp –unbreak…unbreakable- wheeze -vow…" Leather Jacket stuttered out, his face already a deathly white, as uncontrollable twitches wracked his extremities and froth began to gather at the corners of his mouth.
Shit. Harry immediately banished the snake. It had been his intention all along to do so before the man died – he wasn't a murderer, after all – but he had hoped that he would have been able to get some useable information from Leather Jacket. Harry stunned the man again, and cast a medical Stasis charm on him to prevent the damage already done by the cobra's venom from killing him. He flicked his wand at T-Shirt absently, making him slump over unconscious, which probably wasn't necessary; the man hadn't even noticed the deadly King Cobra in the room.
Harry turned to regard Bakura, who hadn't moved from his shadowed place against the door. The man's scarred face was terrifyingly blank, his pale gaze zeroed in directly on Harry, who was a little surprised the intensity of the stare hadn't caught his shirt on fire. Harry was starting to regret having let him in on the interrogation. That was the stare of someone whose expectations had suddenly been upended, someone who was desperate to gather as much information as possible to reconcile his previous view with his new one. Harry thought his own gaze had been like that, after he received those memories from Snape at the Battle of Hogwarts. Such heuristic upheaval was unpleasant, and Harry could only hope that Bakura's new opinion of him was not negative.
Unable to take the painful silence any longer, Harry spoke up. "Well, that didn't exactly go as I had hoped."
He was unreasonably relieved when Bakura answered in a normal tone. "Perhaps, but it was not useless. That unbreakable vow he mentioned seemed important."
Harry nodded. "Yeah. It's a type of magically binding contract. You swear on your life to uphold your vow. If you break it, you die immediately. It means he's sworn not to reveal any information about the attack, at least to me, and potentially to anyone else."
Bakura eyed him thoughtfully, before speaking slowly, carefully. "Suppose he is tortured to the extent that death would be a welcome release." Ah, Harry thought, struggling to keep his face blank. Bakura was testing him, trying to determine the extent of his ruthlessness. It would be easy to answer without revealing his opinion on the matter, but for some reason he suddenly, desperately wanted Bakura understand him better.
"I…would not be okay with that," Harry admitted, watching Bakura's face for a reaction and receiving none, save for the same piercing stare he'd been treated to since stunning the Death Eaters. "This situation is far from serious enough to require something like that. Even if it was serious, I still don't think I'd be okay with that. I wasn't really okay with this, to tell the truth, and I really only intended to scare him. Er. Rather violently, I guess.
"Anyway, it doesn't matter. He would suffer the consequences of breaking the vow immediately upon deciding to break it. He wouldn't even have time to speak before he was dead." Bakura nodded slowly in response, and it may have just been wishful thinking, but Harry could have sworn that a little tension had fled from Bakura's tight stance by the end of his explanation.
"I suppose you will want to hand them over to your magical authorities, then," Bakura said.
"No, I've got a better plan." Harry perked up, grinning toothily. "T-Shirt is useless to us, so we can hand him over, say he was the only attacker. He won't be able to corroborate the story, not as he is, and the Aurors will have no reason not to believe a simple tale of revenge. Leather Jacket, on the other hand… I'm planning on roughing him up a bit, soon as I can get some potions to heal up the nerve damage from the venom, and put a tracking charm on him. I'll Obliviate him, make him forget this interrogation and the fact that T-Shirt is alive, and drop him somewhere in the city. He'll assume he escaped after seeing me kill his two friends, and hopefully he'll run right back to whoever planned this whole thing."
"At which point we can take the bastard out." Bakura's answering grin was positively vicious. He threw his head back and laughed maniacally. "Haha! Brilliant! This certainly promises to be amusing. Heh, I knew there was a reason I liked you."
What. Harry's eager expression melted into a rather embarrassing gawp, but Bakura had already turned to leave the room, still cackling like a madman. Harry just sighed. Must have misunderstood him. Bakura's enthusiasm was infectious, though; he was starting to get quite excited himself. He stood up, brushed himself off, and followed Bakura out into the main room.
They were greeted with a stockade of somber, worried faces.
"We heard a scream," Ryou murmured uneasily. "Did you…?"
Harry shook his head. "No, he's not hurt, for the most part. I- I'm not cruel. I don't like interrogations, but we needed information, so I had to scare him." It was unspeakably important to Harry that they not begin to doubt his morality; if they began to tiptoe around him, thinking he was some kind of violent, unhinged monster… Well, he'd had just about enough of that in his second and fifth years at Hogwarts.
"And what did you find out?" Atem asked. Harry told them about the Vow the Death Eater had apparently taken, and went on to describe his plan to them. Atem nodded slowly, approvingly, as though Harry's plan was a mere suggestion that was his to endorse.
A few hours later, T-shirt was in Auror custody and Leather Jacket was Obliviated and left behind a dumpster fifteen blocks away from the game shop. Harry decided to take his leave after that, opting to wait in solitude for his tracking charm to activate.
Back in his apartment, he pulled up the tracking spell, which manifested as a floating silver globe the size of a basketball dotted with glowing red spots, indicating the location of the targets – although only one shone in this case: Leather Jacket. Harry watched the spot for a moment, noting that Leather Jacket had yet to move from behind the dumpster. He banished the globe, knowing it would alert him when the target began to move, and shuffled off to bed.
AN: Yeah hi so this is me blatantly ignoring that piece of DH epilogue that says Harry can't speak to snakes anymore. Basically, I just thought it was a really cool skill that should have been expanded on more in canon. Seriously, I wish I could talk to snakes, maybe then I could ask my ball python why she doesn't eat gray mice, only the white ones…
Also, I got a review for the last chapter pointing out a typo. Please, if you notice any mistakes I've made, don't hesitate to let me know! I'd like to make this the best reading experience as possible!