Thanks for your comments/reviews since my last update, and also, a shout-out to those who have added the story to your alert list, c2, or favourite list, it's almost as good as a review, 'ya know!
Posted January 25, 2014.
SUMMARY: The Commonwealth addresses the ICW concerning Dumbledore's unhealthy interest in Harry's affairs; a visit to a mage in Morthal provides a way for Harry to destroy the Horcrux embedded in Tom Riddle's Journal; and an outing on Halloween brings excitement for the wrong reasons.
9: HERE THERE BE DRAGONS
Late-August – October 31, 2004 (4E199)
It was mid-morning before the expanded group received any sort of word back from their own world. Just after 10 am, the fireplace roared to life, expelling Will and Alice.
"Well?" Harry said simply, looking up from his breakfast that had for the most part went untouched.
"We are certain it was the work of Death Eaters," said Will, as he spelled the soot off his clothes, "The Ministry of Justice was able to compare the eyewitness accounts to their own records."
"The campsites were completely destroyed, but luckily, only a few deaths," said Alice, producing a copy of the National Daily Chronicle, the largest newspaper by circulation in the Commonwealth. The front-page was covered in several very graphic images which depicted the destruction. CARNAGE AT QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP, the headline blared.
"Let me guess," Justin muttered, "The non-magicals they were torturing."
"Actually not. All the deaths were to magical people, including three Aurors. That, of course hasn't been made official, likely not until tomorrow or the day after. Naturally there were loads of injuries, and equally disturbing..." Alice pointed to one of the photos.
Mazhe appeared disturbed by the image. "What the hell is that?"
The photo depicted a massive green-coloured skull, with an equally massive green serpent protruding from its mouth, seeming to soar higher and higher in the night sky, above the ruined camping ground.
"The Dark Mark, Mazhe. It's Voldemort's sign," said Sirius, as he stood behind the group, peering at the graphic photos. "Voldemort or his Death Eaters sent the Dark Mark into the sky whenever they killed. It was meant to instill terror. Whoever did it knew the effect it would have."
"Did... You-know-who ever attack the Commonwealth?" Ron asked.
"Oh yes, he most certainly did," said Alice, "We remember all too well what it was like over fourteen years ago. We were able to keep him out, but occasionally, we would get a sympathizer or three. We were lucky for the most part, given our security precautions."
The floo fired again, and this time Remus stepped out of the fireplace, quickly vanishing the ashes from his robes.
"Harry," he said, simply.
"I'm fine, Moony. We took a port key back to the Commonwealth as soon as we realized something was wrong," answered Harry.
"Good. Good to hear. The Ministry's in an uproar, lots of finger-pointing and so on."
"But what we're able to gather, the British Ministry's not doing much other than run around like chickens with their heads cut off," said Will, ruefully, "Your Ministry's always been this scattered?"
"Unfortunately, Mr. Jarvis," answered Sirius.
"Doesn't help that they have an ineffective Minister, 'least what I understand it," said Mazhe, "Gods, it's no wonder the bad guys are having such an easy go of things."
"Exactly our point," Alice agreed, taking a seat at the table. She reached into her bag and pulled out a folder. "Sir Malcolm Davis Institute will be happy to help you with your level four material, Harry."
"Pass word along I said thank you. It's very much appreciated," said Harry, "...and considering the Ministry is also now threatening to snap my wand the second I set foot on English soil again... that's fine with me."
"Did they really?" Mr. Weasley looked angry.
"They did," said Alice, with a frown, "The government is taking steps at this point—"
"Not that Harry really has to worry about that," said Mazhe, with a smirk.
"True. My wand is sometimes a hindrance. So me studying independently will likely move things along a bit faster."
Harry thought for a moment.
"If I ask for material above my year, is the Institute willing to provide it?"
"Of course. If you think you can handle the material, I don't think they'll have a problem with that, Harry," answered Alice, "They are quite aware you're most certainly not an ordinary student."
"Wish I was though."
"We know, kiddo. We know," said Sirius.
The beginning of September was rather strange for Harry, as for the first time in three years, he wasn't travelling to London to ride the Hogwarts Express. He'd dispatched an official letter to Dumbledore, informing him he would not be returning to the school, in response to the Ministry's action at the beginning of the summer. Sealing Harry's vaults had taken away any leverage Dumbledore had over him. There had been no response back from the headmaster, and Harry took that as a good thing.
September 5 brought more bad news, however. Sirius had petitioned the Wizengamot for parental rights—on the suggestion of Alice and Will—as doing so would give him the power to act in Harry's best interests, at least as his affairs in England went. As fate would have it, Dumbledore used his political clout within the governing body to deny the motion. Needless to say, Sirius wasn't the only person frustrated by the decision.
"It's not the end of the world, Harry," Sirius promised, "No matter what, I'll always be there for you."
"I know, Sirius, but Gods... they have to make it difficult."
"The silver lining should come in a few days, though," said Justin, "The Queen's Representative is addressing the ICW's main assembly tomorrow."
"Queen's Representative? What sort of thing do they do?" Harry asked.
"-He- is the Commonwealth's official representative," Justin explained, "Since we aren't a member of the ICW, it's a bit dicey, but we can certainly gain an audience and so on."
"Are you guys the only country not in the ICW?"
"No. There are a few other magical countries who aren't, and for similar reasons to our own. Balmaria, for example, is a small republic in the Mediterranean. They have a mixed population, magical and Muggle. They renounced their membership in 1925."
"And they hide like the Commonwealth does?"
"Yes, absolutely. Then there's Aquitania—a small nation hidden in western France. They've managed to hide themselves in an even more spectacular way. Ask Guardian Elaine about them, their technology is astounding. I mean, that's saying something, considering THEY don't have the Orb of Magnus."
"So what can the Queen's Representative do for me though?" Harry asked.
"Draw international attention on a certain old man's meddling in your interests, Harry," Alice answered, "It's the last sort of attention England would want, particularly considering what's already transpired this past summer."
"Anyone else gonna attend this meeting?" Mazhe asked.
"Both the minister of Justice and the minister of Social Services will be attending, so yes, we'll get to see what happened."
"Naturally, it's best if you weren't there in person, Harry," said Sirius, "I think the Commonwealth has your best interests well in hand."
"Agreed."
September 9, 2004
Meeting of the International Confederation of Wizards
Chinese Ministry of Magic
Shanghai, People's Republic of China
"Yes, yes, we have heard your arguments for the past twenty-eight meetings, Mr. Bashir, and we must once again repeat our answer. It is the right of the English Government to implement laws and regulations regarding what can and cannot be brought inside of its borders. May we move on?"
The Arabic businessman bowed humbly, and swept from the centre of the room.
The representative from the Canadian ministry rose from her seat.
"Fellow members, I turn the floor over to Grant Weyland, the Governor General for the Commonwealth of Valicadia."
Dumbledore hadn't been paying too much attention at this point, given his mind was still on the quandary that was Harry Potter. The threat of him losing his inheritance had no effect. The boy was not returning to Hogwarts at this point—his absence had certainly not gone unnoticed.
The announcement from the Canadian representative got his attention, however. Valicadia? The rogue nation which had all but stolen Harry from England? The meeting now had his full attention, as the dark-skinned man stepped to the centre of the floor.
"What business do you have with the international body?" the representative from France questioned.
"The Commonwealth's business is regarding Harry Potter, an English ex-patriot who now resides within our borders."
"The boy-who-lived," said the representative.
"Harry Potter. I won't address him by anything other than his name, since we are all expected to maintain some level of decorum, are we not, madam representative?"
"Indeed, do forgive me."
"Do continue," said Dumbledore, leaning forward in his seat, now very interested in what the man might have to say.
The dark-skinned man looked back at Dumbledore, and smiled.
"Interesting that you wade into this, ah, conversation, Supreme-mugwump," said Weyland, "Considering it is some of your actions which I am here to discuss."
That caused a stir within the chamber.
"The Commonwealth of Valicadia has remained silent up to this point, not wishing to draw undue attention to itself and the subject of this interference. However, the issue has been pressed to a point where we have been forced to take steps.
"As the representative from the French Ministry has pointed out, Harry Potter is perhaps one of the most important people within the magical community. I will not go into detail on the reasons for his fame, for it is for the most part in the public record. However, I do wish to remind this body, he is a fourteen-year-old boy—a human being, and not some tool to be used and then discarded on the whim of the user."
"Please get to the point," said the representative from China.
"When Harry was six years old, the Commonwealth intervened and took him away from his relatives. They were charged with multiple counts of child abuse and neglect... the case file should be in front of you."
Weyland watched as the numerous representatives picked up pages of paper which had suddenly appeared on the lecterns in front of them. There was muttering, as they began reading, but he pressed on.
"Since then, he has been a citizen of the Commonwealth. When he turned eleven, he was given the choice of whether to attend school within the Commonwealth, or attend school back in the country of his birth. Harry was somewhat apprehensive, but chose the latter."
Weyland gave Dumbledore a glare, and looked down at the page of paper in front of him.
"Each year he has attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry, the headmaster has taken a rather unhealthy interest in Mr. Potter. The end of first year, he attempted to cast a memory charm on him—a sworn statement should now be in front of you—and was informed he would be returned to his relatives. It should be noted, his relatives had been locked away in a non-magical prison for their crimes."
"If this is true," said the Canadian representative, "We have a conflict of interest. I must ask that the Supreme Mugwump be excluded from participating further in this session."
"Seconded," said the representative from Brazil.
"Very well. If it is the desire of this body, I relinquish my authority for this session to—"
"No, Professor. Din Sing Lu shall carry on, since they are the host nation for this proceeding," said the French representative, sourly, "We know all too well the sort of games you might get up to, Professor Dumbledore."
It took a few minutes for things to settle down, but finally Weyland was able to continue.
"The summer before Harry's second year, the English Wizengamot drafted and passed legislation which forced any student enrolled at Hogwarts to return to the school for the duration of their seven-year education, or risk the forfeit of any inheritance or monies, as well as the possible snapping of their wand and the binding of their magic.
"It is in our opinion this piece of legislation was specifically tailored for Mr. Potter, since the Commonwealth has been thus far been unable to confirm any instances where this has been enforced outside of Mr. Potter's particular situation."
"It is in the right of nations to draft and pass legislation as they see fit," said Sing Lu.
"I think we are lying to ourselves if we believe that to be realistic," the Canadian representative challenged, "It's absurd to force an eleven-year-old child into something—are parents informed of this legislation?"
"A question I have to ask myself," said Weyland, "I could certainly raise a few other examples such as this, but my point is quite clear. We are alarmed at the unhealthy amount of attention Albus Dumbledore—and by extension, the British ministry for magic—has for one Harry James Potter, one of our citizens. We are asking them to cease and desist this sort of activity, lest we have to resort to further measures. We will protect our citizens, make no mistake."
There was muttering about the room, as more than a few members gave Weyland glares and uncomfortable looks.
"Though I don't appreciate open threats, I do still have to ask this body, why is the English ministry so interested in interfering with another nation's business?" questioned the Brazilian representative.
"As do I," said the French representative, "I resent the idea one nation would interfere with another's business."
"Which is what the Commonwealth of Valicadia did in the first place, I must remind this body," said Dumbledore, from the side bench, "Harry Potter was perfectly safe where he was—"
"Safe? You have to be MAD to believe that, professor," said Weyland, giving the headmaster a scathing look, "Perhaps we should owl you some photographs of the place where he was sleeping when we found him. Would you consider a cupboard under the stairs a suitable sleeping arrangement, Professor?"
"That cannot be."
"Oh, but it was. You put blinders on and pretend everything is fine, rather than facing the reality of the situation. I do have to wonder, what might have happened, had he been left in that environment until he received his letter. What sort of man would he have become?"
"These are indeed very dark questions, Mr. Weyland, questions which we will be asking in depth, I believe," said the Brazilian representative, "We have already faced one Dark Lord in recent memory, we certainly don't wish to be facing another in a decade's time. The Confederation does somewhat frown on the action the Commonwealth took, however, it is most certainly mitigated by the outcome. Young Harry is doing well, I assume?"
"I am happy to report, he is doing very well at present, now receiving private tutoring in fourth-level material. He is in regular contact with friends he has made at Hogwarts, and he has a number of friends around him within the Commonwealth," answered Weyland.
"That is all we could have asked for. The boy deserves a happy life." The French representative glared at Dumbledore. "You fool, what is is you were trying to do? Mould another Dark Lord? Good grief, Albus!"
Weyland simply smiled. He'd said his piece, and now the Confederation would be asking questions of its own.
"Members of this Confederation. I thank you for your time, and should you require further information regarding this matter, you may owl or telephone our Ministry of Justice. The appropriate contact details have been included in the package now in front of you." With a bow of the head, Weyland strode from the room confidently.
ICW EXPELLS DUMBLEDORE
May Face Charges for Conduct
After several key revelations during a rare appearance by the Commonwealth of Valicadia during yesterday's meeting of the international body, said body reacted by expelling the ageing headmaster from the international governing body, and revoking all credentials associated with it.
An official press release from the Confederation states that, 'Due to an ongoing international investigation into the affairs of Mr. Dumbledore, it would be inappropriate for this body to allow him to retain any sort of position, lest it tarnish the objectivity of said body. His credentials may be reinstated once the investigation is concluded.'
Enquiries by the Daily Prophet have thus far remained unanswered, but a copy of the transcript of yesterday's session will be obtained early next week, by which time we will know exactly what has put the international body in such a state. However, it is known the headmaster has his fingers in many pies, so just perhaps, some of his dealings are not all they seem to be. Rest assured, dear readers, the Daily Prophet will continue to dig for the truth, and we will have it for you as soon as we have the details.
The buzz surrounding that particular meeting carried for nearly two weeks, but in the end, nothing came of it. Make no mistake, the headmaster carried a lot of political clout, and he most certainly used it to bury the scrutiny and accusations. He had been at the game a long time, and knew too well how to work the system to his advantage.
The international body, however, did not forgive or forget. There had been issues raised, and even if the party who brought the issue forward was not a member of the confederation, they brought forward valuable points. Unable to confirm nor deny the allegations, the body decided to play on the side of caution. If Magical England wanted to plant its head in the sand, stick their fingers in their ears and pretend nothing was going on, that was all fine. But there was no way in hell the international body was going to permit the individual in the middle of the scandal to sit in its ranks. That would only give ascent, saying the actions of the English magical government was acceptable—which they were certainly not.
PETTIGREW ESCAPES FROM AZKABAN
Person Responsible for Potters' Death Once Again at Large
A Ministry spokeswitch has confirmed that indeed, mass-murderer Peter Pettigrew has escaped from Azkaban. No other details are available at this time, other than a warning that this known Death Eater is once again at large, posing a dire threat to the citizens of Magical Britain.
This reporter does have to wonder, why is it that, for the second year consecutive, a high-profile prisoner has managed to escape the prison, a feat previously believed impossible. One escape is too many, let alone a second. Perhaps it is time the Wizengamot convenes some sort of enquiry as to the workings and procedures within the prison, and perhaps... (see 'prevent', page 4)
Dementors: effective guards, or public menace? Editorial, Page 6
Sirius Black, Azkaban's first Escapee, page 4
Harry wanted to bang his head on the table. "Gods, are they truly that incompetent?"
"They did know he was an Animagus, right?" said Mazhe. It was an early breakfast, as Harry was expected in Riften for 8 am for his weekly smithing lesson with Balimund and his apprentice.
"Incompetent fools, the lot of them. And they want me to save them?" Harry let out a snort.
"It's not just magical Britain you're saving, Harry," said Justin, looking up from the notepad he was scribbling on.
"I know, I know. But... you'd think that... with the sworn statements, the testimony under Veritaserum... they'd remember that the man can change into a small animal of which the Dementors would have zero interest in whatsoever."
"He likely slipped right between the bars, and that was the end of it," said Sirius, "He likely waited for the boat to show up, and he was scott-free."
"What d'you think he'll do? Your best guess?"
"Find his master. He bears the Dark Mark."
"Sirius... you mind getting Harry and his friends to Riften this morning? I need to get back to Trevelyan for the morning, make sure Alice and Will know what's going on," said Justin.
"I think we can manage."
"Good. I'll hook up with you guys this afternoon at the Ragged Flagon."
"If you run into Remus, let him know what's going on as well—though knowing him, he'll probably already know."
"Sure."
Justin stood up, and stuffed the notepad into his satchel, and shoved his baseball cap on backwards.
"I'll see you guys this afternoon." He activated the floo, and vanished.
"Right. Best finish up then," Harry muttered, turning back to his breakfast, although he wasn't hungry anymore. The news had killed his appetite. He pushed the plate aside. "You guys ready to go?"
"If you are."
Harry stood up, blew out a breath, then shouldered his satchel.
"Good. A distraction might be good right now, I think."
"No, you need to focus on your lessons, Harry. Last thing you need is to hurt yourself because you're not paying attention."
"Which means I'll not be thinking of the fact that the traitor who betrayed my parents is once again running around free!"
Ron and Hermione,
Glad to hear the school year has gotten off to an okay start for you guys. Sounds like you guys have lucked out again for a good DADA professor—though I do have to wonder what was he thinking, demonstrating unforgivable curses in the classroom. Sounds a bit dodgy pulling something like that, retired Auror or not.
The Tri-wizard tournament sounds fantastic! Although, knowing my luck, I would have probably been sucked into it somehow or other, even though I'm not of age. Maybe I might come and see the tasks when they happen. Let me know beforehand, if you don't mind so I have a chance to make arrangements with my handlers (did I just call them that? I don't really mean it that way, but you know what I mean). Besides, I'd love to meet people from other schools. That's the spirit of the competition, isn't it?
The past month has been pretty busy from my end. On top of my regular fourth-year course load, I also teach two classes at the College, and I have four additional lessons of non-magical nature outside of the College—that's on top of the non-magical classes I'm already taking. I would be in grade nine if I were actually attending a school in the Commonwealth.
I do miss being in class with you guys, but really, I can't afford the distractions involved with being at Hogwarts. I have a destiny to fulfil—something I can't fail—and that means I need all the training and lessons I can get, something's that won't happen at Hogwarts. Dumbledore won't allow that sort of thing. Meanwhile, Sirius, Remus, Justin, and my guardians have been very busy setting out lessons and so on.
That said, let me know when the next Hogsmeade weekend is, and I'll be sure to take a day and come spend time with you guys. We could meet up at the Three Broomsticks for a round of butterbeers... Balls, better wrap this up. I think Justin just came through the floo.
Miss you both,
Harry
Harry,
Our first Hogsmeade visit will be in November, so lots of time to plan before. But Ron and I, as well as the twins would love to see you. Ron insisted on showing them your letter, he was certain you wouldn't mind... and I guess it's all right—though they do make a lot of trouble. I really wish you hadn't sent them that gift certificate for Zonko's, they're a nightmare at times!
What kind of classes are you teaching at the College now? Are they the same as last year? Do your students give you grief because of your age? I still can't wrap my head around that, Harry... good grief.
How are you handling your schedule? I'm probably going to regret mentioning this, but have you thought about requesting a time-turner? The Ministry is quite restrictive on who gets to use one, but you would likely qualify, given your unique circumstances. And the Commonwealth likely has a different set of rules and regulations regarding the use of one. Mention it to Sirius and see what he has to say about it.
What kinds of things are you learning that are 'non-magical in nature'? Is it something being taught by the Commonwealth, or something you're learning in Skyrim? I'll understand if you can't say, but I'm just curious. All the same, it sounds like you're far busier than I was last year, and like I said, a time-turner would make it easier.
Glad to hear your fourth year is turning out to be a relatively quiet one, if perhaps busy. Hope to hear from you soon,
Hermione
October 8, 2004 / 8 Frostfall, 4E199
Harry had never been to Morthal before. It was the capital of Hjaalmarch, a marshy hold in the northwestern part of the province. The reason for the trek: Falion, a master conjurer, had gotten word of the strange soul-container Harry had encountered two years prior, and expressed interest in examining it. After careful examination by several branches of the government, the Commonwealth believed it was a Horcrux, some truly dark magic, and something not easily destroyed.
They arrived in town by carriage just before lunch time, and Mazhe wasted no time leading the group to the Moorside Inn where they could get something to eat, and meet up with Falion.
"Welcome, welcome! What can I get you fine folk?" spoke a dark-skinned woman behind the counter. The inn was very much similar to the Frozen Hearth back in Winterhold, with about as many people—meaning one could count them on one hand.
"Bottles of ale, and whatever you would suggest for lunch, if you please," Mazhe answered, pushing a fistful of coins across the counter.
"Good to see you again, Mazhe."
"Likewise. Friends, this is Jonna, the inn's proprietor. Jonna, this is Justin and Harry. We've come from Winterhold."
"Well. Grab a seat by the fire, get yourselves all warmed up. Winter's setting in early this year, by the feel of things," said Jonna, as she pulled a few bottles from under the counter.
"Don't mind if I do," Justin muttered, pulling his hands out of the pockets of his jacket. "Hate winter."
"This one then wonders why he is in a place such as Skyrim," one of the few other patrons asked, turning around. He was a Khajiit with tabby markings, and what could resemble a moustache of sorts. He regarded the group with yellow eyes.
"Blame him," Justin answered, gesturing to Harry.
Harry only grinned, and took a seat at the fire, with Justin quick to take up the spot to his right. Mazhe took the spot on his left.
While they ate, Justin shifted uncomfortably several times, feeling the stares of the other patrons. Unlike Harry, he didn't change his wardrobe to suit the locals, and so his outfit most certainly stood out—jeans, a heavy jumper knit by Mrs. Weasley (maroon with a golden 'J'), and his school varsity jacket. The only thing he wore which actually blended in was a pair of leather boots he had bought from Tonilia. Mazhe had let him try on his boots, and Justin instantly fell in love with them. He knew they were Guild-issued equipment, but Harry was more than happy to cover the cost, seeing Justin as one of his close friends at that point.
"Mazhe. You made the trip without incident?" The group looked up to see a dark-skinned man step into the inn.
"Good to see you, Falion."
"And you brought your friend with you?" Falion looked confused, seeing the others with him.
"Falion. This is Justin and Harry. It is Harry, or more specifically, the item he encountered two summers ago you'll be interested in," said Mazhe, standing. "Harry, show him the journal."
"Right." Harry dug in his satchel, and pulled out the offensive book, and held it out for the man. Falion gripped it, and looked momentarily puzzled.
"Very strange magic. If you are just about done, we might take this somewhere less public, lest there be unforeseen circumstances from my experiments."
It was a fifteen-minute hike outside of town and three encounters with the wildlife before they arrived at what looked like a stone circle. Mazhe was already well-experienced with that sort of thing, but the others had not seen anything like it before.
"It's a summoning circle," Mazhe explained, "Magical casting is amplified in a place like this."
"Indeed it is," Falion agreed, "Now, I would ask all of you to remain outside of the circle."
He placed the journal at the centre of the circle, and gestured at it.
"Very powerful magic was cast on this book... very dark magic. You believe a soul is imbued within it?"
"A fragment, yes," said Justin, "In our world, this is some of the worst magic."
"In some circles, it is considered evil here, too," said Falion. "However, the legality of doing it is not the issue at hand, are we not in agreement? The better question, is how to undo that sort of magic."
Falion glanced at Justin.
"You know of our soul gems here, of course."
"Yeah. I've seen Mazhe use them enough."
"Have you seen one like this?"
Falion reached into his satchel, and drew out what looked like an elongated obsidian crystal.
"Is it—" Mazhe began.
"Yes. A black soul gem," Falion finished.
"The only soul gem capable of trapping the soul of a humanoid victim," Mazhe explained, wide-eyed. Both Justin and Harry looked disturbed at the notion.
"Now. I think it might be possible to trap the soul in this—" Falion indicated the black soul gem, "From there it's only a matter of consuming the soul gem normally."
"What happens to the soul?" Harry asked.
"There are many debates on what actually happens, but a strong theory is that it is sent to a place called the Soul Cairn, a plane of Oblivion, where they are trapped for eternity.(5)"
"Then let's give it a shot. No harm in trying."
"Indeed." Falion thrust a hand at the book, and a purple blast of energy flared to impact with it. The book was momentarily encased in the purple shade.
"Mazhe. The strongest destructive spell you can manage."
"Right." Mazhe brought his hands together and an orange ball formed between them. He flung it at the book, while Falion held the soul gem in front of him. The ball of magic impacted with the book, resulting in a brilliant flash, and a terrible screech, as the cursed object burst into flames.
A terrible black shade immediately sprung from the burning book, resulting in shield charms and wards being produced in an instant. However, there was little to fear, as the black soul gem was already calling to the shade, the net already being cast. There was nowhere else for the shade to go, and it was drawn into the obsidian-like crystal with little resistance.
"Most peculiar," Falion noted, as he passed the now filled soul gem to Mazhe. Mazhe reached into his satchel and pulled out a small bag.
"How much for the soul gem? I know they are expensive."
"A hundred Septims, since this was academic on my part."
"Let me cover it," said Harry, reaching into his own satchel. Mazhe put his bag away, while Harry began counting out coins. It was a good thing he now had a weightless charm placed on his satchel; carrying around a lot of coin had been overbearing at times.
Mazhe, meanwhile, pulled a dagger from his satchel. From the look of it, Harry knew it was made of Ebony, a dark, and very difficult metal to work with.
"The enchantments on it make it extra effective against the Draugr and other undead," Mazhe explained, as he held it in front of him. He then pressed the soul gem to the dagger, and it seemed to melt into the steel. A final, horrible cry seemed to emanate from the weapon.
"Even more peculiar," said Falion, "I've never come across a soul gem doing something like that before."
"This... makes things much more difficult," said Justin, with a sour expression. "Knowing what we know about Voldemort, it's likely not the only one he's made. Guys... we'd better get back to the Commonwealth."
"Falion... here's a bit of extra coin for your help... and we'd ask that you not mention this for now. It's for Harry's safety," said Mazhe, producing a small bag of coins.
"Ah, of course, I understand. You have my word then."
21 Frostfall
Returning to the Hall of Attainment after his afternoon classes, he found Justin had once again occupied the table in their room with open books, and notes. There were also several objects, one of which he had in pieces. Of course, Harry had seen much of this before, considering it was Justin's major project, the focus of most of his adult life thus far. He was so very close to earning his doctorate.
"You finally made it work?" Harry asked, simply.
"The cross-dimensional thing was a difficult nut to crack, that was for sure. I finally had some time with the Orb this morning, took me all of five minutes to sort things out. The Minister was more than impressed, says I can look forward to a significant pay bonus at the end of the month... and the university wants a final summary next week."
"Congratulations."
"Thank you, thank you," Justin smirked, bowing low.
"You're spending too much time around Mazhe."
"Says the one who grew up around him."
Harry only rolled his eyes, and smirked right back.
October 31, 2004/31 Frostfall, 4E199
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry
"Excellent!" Dumbledore called happily as at last the tumult died down. "Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real—"
But Dumbledore suddenly stopped speaking, and it was apparent to everybody what had distracted him. The fire in the goblet had just turned red again. Sparks were flying out of it. A long flame shot suddenly into the air, and borne upon it was another piece of parchment.
Automatically, it seemed, Dumbledore reached out a long hand and seized the parchment. He held it out and stared at the name written upon it. There was a long pause, during which Dumbledore stared at the slip in his hands, and everyone in the room stared at Dumbledore. And then Dumbledore cleared his throat and read out - "Harry Potter."(3)
Boardwalk Hall, Atlantic City, New Jersey
Justin had tried his best to explain exactly what mixed martial arts was, but Harry was still somewhat confused. Boxing, he'd heard of. Martial arts? It was still out in left field. But Justin had been given the tickets—part of a bonus for his recent work, and Harry didn't mind joining his friend—after all, up to this point, the dark-haired guy hadn't shared a whole lot about himself.
The fights were brutal. That was the simple word. It was a caged-in octagonal platform, where two opponents attacked each other with what seemed like very few rules of conduct—at least in Harry's opinion. One guy in particular was almost primal with his rage, carving a swath through every opponent he faced. Or perhaps it was the will to win. After all, five million American dollars was nothing to snuff at.
The last match of the tournament was taking place, Tommy Riordan versus Brendan Conlon. Tommy had been the rage-fuelled fighter who had been brutal and merciless with all who faced him. The other, meanwhile, had a much tougher go of it, relying on a different set of skills to accomplish the same end.
"Shor's balls, never have I seen such violence," said Mazhe, shaking his head, as the fourth round was coming to a close. "I've killed many, but never left someone in such shape as those two are in presently."
"Agreed. If I were in that condition, I believe I would wish for death," said Harry. A privacy charm had been erected so their conversation wouldn't be heard—not that it was truly necessary, considering the noise around them.
"You both have to remember, we have magic on our side, those two don't," Justin reminded. He reached into his satchel, and pulled out a bottle of amber liquid.
"Justin!"
"What?"
"It's illegal isn't it?"
"I don't think many people are gonna really notice." Justin popped the cork, and took a long swig.
"Mental, that one is," Harry muttered, turning his attention back to the cage.
"Mazhe..."
"Sure." Justin passed the bottle over, and Mazhe also took a long swig of the amber liquid.
"Better than whatever horse piss they're peddling here, I think."
Justin laughed.
"Gotta take you guys to a hockey game sometime."
"Is it as violent as this? I'm doubting my choice here, mate."
"Oh come on, Harry, it's brilliant—ouch."
Harry thought he heard the horrible crunch, as cartilage was torn. Brendan had pulled Tommy's shoulder out of its socket just as the horn sounded to end the round.
"Mey kendov!(1)" Harry muttered, "Why won't he quit?! Dar los nax!"
"Harry, that's confusing," said Justin.
"It... feels right about now. Krosis." Harry paused, then whispered, "Aaz ko viik." However, 'viik' came out rather strange, and Harry swore he felt a surge of energy well out through his mouth. The pair of combatants in opposite corners of the cage actually looked over to where he was sitting, confused.
"Harry?"
"What was that?"
"Viik," said Harry, although this time it came out normally. "It means defeat."
"Defeat... VIIK!" said Mazhe. The floor actually shook as the harsh tone of his voice carried above the crowd. The arena fell silent, and the group felt every eye swivel in their direction.
High Hrothgar, Throat of the World
As it was late in the evening the four aged men known as the Greybeards were about to retire for the night. As master Arngeir began to settle down in his bed, he heard the faint word through the wind: 'viik'... Defeat, in the dragon tongue. A word of power. The power of the voice. Even as faint as it had been, Arngeir felt it wash over him.
"Dragonborn," he whispered.
That raised a terrible question. Why now? The end times were near, this much was known. The ancient prophecy surrounding the return of Alduin was well-recorded, and given the rising unrest between Ulfric Stormcloak and the Empire, all the pieces were falling into place. If it was truly a Dragonborn, the signs couldn't be more clear.
"So let's review." It was a group of ten individuals now dressed in rather familiar black robes, for now without the tell-tale masks which had recently instilled fear back into the Wizarding world. They were meeting in a small room in the underbelly of the facility. The crowd noise easily permeated the walls and ceiling—that included the strange shout of 'viik', which had them all muttering a moment.
"We know the target's in the cage."
"We'll wait until they're finished. Capture is best conducted back in his locker room, fewer people around. Baker and Lewis are heading there now."
"Morton and Carter, take the locker tunnel, out of sight. Rest of you, we wait 'till the match is over. Once the target's in the tunnel, we start our diversion. No killing!"
A chorus of "Yes sir" followed.
"Bloody hell, Mazhe!"
"Uh, ditto," said Justin, staring at their friend, wide-eyed. Harry's had come out a bit loud, but Mazhe's had come out as a roar, as if he had screamed it at the top of his lungs. For several moments, one could hear a pin drop in the packed arena.
"Sorry. But... Harry, did you, uh, feel anything strange, when you... shouted?"
"A surge of power, yeah. But..."
The noise level had quickly returned, and no further thought was given on the matter, as the two opponents squared off again, although Tommy had momentarily locked eyes with Harry just before. Tommy knew he was looking into the eyes of another warrior—emerald eyes which blazed with fury. A teenager as dangerous as he was.
As the fight grew more vicious, Harry felt a strange warm sensation wash over him from head to toe. He knew it was magical in nature, and whatever it was, it likely didn't mean anything good for him.
"Harry?"
"Just... never mind... I'll tell you later—" Harry again winced, as Brendan slammed his opponent to the floor. It was all or nothing, and neither were willing to surrender to the other. Tommy was almost surreal, working with a dislocated shoulder. His face betrayed the crushing pain he was in, but he pushed onward, not giving an inch.
And then, it was over. Brendan had Tommy in a vice-like submission hold, cutting off the guy's airway. It was simple. Submit, or pass out from lack of oxygen. Tommy thrashed about on the floor, but the older man's grip held, and finally, mercifully, the younger man conceded. Incredibly, the pair were instantly in a tight embrace, on their knees, in the middle of the cage.
"They... knew each other," Mazhe whispered.
"No. Family. Brothers," said Harry, quietly. Perhaps, that was the strange sensation he felt earlier. He stared at the pair, still locked in a tight embrace, their demons clearly exorcised here on this night. Harry now understood completely, as the crowd continued to explode around them in a frenzy of cheers.
A blast of red light overhead caught the group off guard.
"Balls!" Harry cursed, "Justin! Emergency port key!"
"Digging for it."
He yanked out what looked like a tennis ball.
"Fingers on the port key, we go in ten."
CRASH! A red bolt of energy slammed into the ceiling, bringing down several high-intensity lights, and some of the insulation. The crowd scattered in all directions, trying to get clear of the falling debris. A few did not make it. A green bolt of magic blasted from the opposite side of the arena, to slam into a wall, blasting chunks of it in all directions.
"Death eaters," Harry whispered.
"NO! Harry, no, we're leaving!"
"Not this time," Harry vowed, "C'mon, we've got to help. Justin, ring the Ministry, let them know what's going on."
"All right, all right."
Justin glanced at the cage, where it had been stormed by various officials and so on. He tapped the port key once, and pocketed it again.
A streak of purple flame was coming straight for them. Mazhe produced a strong ward shield, deflecting the dangerous spell into the ceiling, bringing down more debris.
"Not good. Would've left nasty scars," Justin grimaced. Another streak of purple flame penetrated the cage, sending two people crumpling to the floor: one of the medics, and a security member.
"Harry... see to the people in the cage," said Mazhe, "We'll cover you."
"Make your shots count. They... had to know we were here."
Another blast of green magic soared overhead, to strike a member of the security team. He collapsed in a heap.
"Jesus Christ," Justin swore, a hand shakily retrieving his mobile. He keyed in 9-1-1, and was forced to again duck, as another bolt of red magic blazed overhead. 'reductor curses', he realized.
"Aurors or healers?" came the voice on the other end.
"Auror department. I'm calling from—"
"Boardwalk Hall, Atlantic City, United States. Outside of the Commonwealth? Credentials?"
"Justin Fraser, Ministry of Technomancy. Reporting a Death Eater attack at a non-magical event. Need Aurors, alert the American Department of Magic, we'll need—" Justin had to duck again as another blast of magic missed him by a foot. "-Need Accidents and Magical Catastorphies, Obliviators Office... wake Muggleworthy Excuse Committee, we'll likely need them to start working right away."
"Just take a breath, Mr. Fraser. Authorities are on the way. Is there anyone hurt?"
"Unforgivables being cast, numerous dead. Lots of injuries."
"Help is on the way. Get yourself to a safe location, can you do that?"
"Uh, we'll try. You need to know, I'm here with Harry Potter."
"Get yourselves to a safe location."
Harry, meanwhile, had made it into the cage, wand drawn, and a strong shield produced with the other. Mazhe was right behind him, having also produced a shield of his own.
"Look out!" Another ugly stream of purple flame was deflected up toward the ceiling. It impacted with a rack of lights, and they came loose, threatening to crush those below it. Harry now had no choice, but to cast a banishing charm. It crashed into a heap at the far end of the auditorium, the noise echoing loudly in the barrel-shaped room.
"Right. The lot of you are sitting ducks," said Harry.
"Thank you, captain obvious," said one of the security members.
"You and you... hold his arm," said Harry, gesturing to Tommy's dislocated shoulder.
"What for?"
"I'll help fix it. It's gonna hurt like hell, but..."
"Just do it," Tommy hissed, setting himself for whatever pain he was about to experience. Brendan and a medic gripped his arm, and Harry drew his wand.
"Obliviators office's gonna be busy tonight," Harry muttered, pointing his wand at the inflamed injury. "Episkey."
White-hot pain surged through Tommy's injured shoulder. It was as if someone were again trying to rip it off completely... and then... it was as if it hadn't happened at all.
"What... what are you?"
"Someone you shouldn't know about. Can you get up?"
"Look out!" Another blast of red magic was barreling straight for them. This time it was Mazhe's shield deflecting it up into the ceiling. Another piece of equipment was knocked loose, and it now hung dangerously from only two brackets still intact.
"REDUCTO!" Harry roared, sending a bolt of red magic of his own in the direction of the attack. It smashed into the seating, knocking pieces in all directions.
"Death Eaters. Never thought... come on, the lot of you."
"The locker room. Got MP's waiting for my anyhow," said Tommy.
"With guns. Good, let's go."
"Harry?" Justin had joined them. "These guys... they're not Death Eaters. This is too-well scripted. Keeping to cover, concentrated attack—" Another blast of red magic impacted with the side of the cage, sending part of it collapsing to the floor and forcing everyone to the side.
"Watch out... REDUCTO!" Justin roared, blasting away another section of the cage, and clearing the way to the arena floor. "Everyone stay close. Harry take one side, Mazhe the other."
Tommy tried to stand up, but was nailed with a strong bout of vertigo.
"Here." Brendan helped him to his feet, and allowed his brother to lean on him.
"Who are you people?" questioned an older man who was then helping Brendan with Tommy.
"I'm Harry, this is Mazhe and Justin. We're from the Commonwealth of Valicadia... and honestly, you shouldn't know that." They were negotiating the debris-covered stairs leading down from the cage.
"Our government will speak to all of you before your memories are altered, and you won't remember a thing about us."
"Mind healers... Justin, we'll need to bring in mind-healers. They shouldn't remember this mess at all."
"You can just erase our memories?" Tommy was clearly uncomfortable about the idea.
"It won't hurt, I promise that. How's your arm feeling?" Harry questioned.
"Better. Thanks."
"Only fair... having to do this with your arm out of its socket... ouch. I've had to endure it, know what it feels like."
He looked at Harry with swollen eyes. "Your healing magic or whatever—" He felt Brendan falter, and almost went over himself.
"Shit," Justin cursed. Brendan lay on the floor, face frozen with his mouth half-open, as though about to ask a question.
"Brendan?"
"Tommy? Look at me."
"Brendan?!"
BANG! A chunk of the wall exploded, showering the retreating group with debris. Mazhe simply grabbed Tommy in a bear-like grip, and stormed down the pathway.
"Come on!"
Another blast of green magic felled one of the security detail.
"This was a bright idea, Harry," said Justin, sarcastically.
"Here. Gods..." He cupped his hands together.
KAWHACK! The ice spike impaled one of the black-robed attackers, and they crumpled to the floor, writhing in pain. A second impacted his chest, and the wizard did not get up. The others, however, were concentrating their fire on the group. Harry and Justin pulled up the rear, blocking the angry bolts of magic, doing the best to protect the group. In the end, all but one of the security detail had been felled by terrible magic, as they at last vanished into the tunnel. Justin pointed his wand at the ceiling near the entrance. "REDUCTO!"
The bolt of red magic slammed into the ceiling of the tunnel, bringing it down in a shower of dust and concrete. Harry quickly joined him, effectively blocking the corridor. At this point, Mazhe could do little else, having Tommy slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He had passed out from the emotional shock.
"Stop. Everyone stop a minute," said Harry. "Justin, your port key. We can't do anything here."
"I agree with Harry. Where... hold on," said Mazhe. They had arrived at the entrance to the locker room, and Harry didn't like the feeling he was getting.
"Locker room."
"Military Police should be waiting for Tommy," said the older man.
"Should, but aren't. We keep moving," Mazhe said. "Where's this tunnel go?"
"Private access... shipping and receiving," said the one security guard still with them.
"We need to go—what in God's name is that?" A moderately loud rumble came, and the ground actually shook, dislodging some of the ceiling tiles. The lights flickered momentarily, and went out.
Ministry of Defence, Department of Information
Mrs. Trent was not a happy individual. Sunday was her day off, and yet, here she was, in the office, which was now alive with the full compliment of staff. The entire Department of Defence was in full compliment at that time. The Minister himself was in the war room along with the executive branch of the government.
"Came in about ten minutes ago, ma'am. Justin Fraser, warned us Mr. Potter was with him. Boardwalk Hall in Atlantic City. Auror Department is scrambling, so are our American and Canadian counterparts. American non-magical authorities are also responding," reported an agent from his workstation.
The large view screen at the front of the room now had a large red spot glowing on the location in question, a zoomed in map of North America. Additional images were pulled up, one of them a very recent satellite photograph, courtesy the NSA's satellite system.
"Can we be certain this is the work of Death Eaters?"
"No, ma'am. Magical detectors have detected a lot of very nasty spell work, including unforgivable curses."
"What do we know about the venue?"
"Hosting SPARTA, a mixed martial arts event over the weekend, it was just wrapping up tonight," answered another agent.
Mrs. Trent's face went tight, and she frowned heavily.
"Who was involved in this 'event'?"
"Final match? Two brothers apparently—"
"Brendan and Thomas Conlon," Mrs. Trent finished, a sense of dread filling her head. "Get in touch with Commander McAllister. I want him in my office, yesterday."
"Yes ma'am."
"Lumos," said Justin, and a bright light bloomed from the end of his wand.
"Gods, felt like the roof come in," said Mazhe, uneasily.
"Port key. Right now," Justin insisted, "What we should have done in the first place."
"Shut up," Harry growled, "Let's get the hell out of here before we're buried alive."
Justin cast a hurt look at Harry, before collecting a chunk of debris. Given the larger number of people, he needed a larger object. He was about to touch his wand to it, when there came an explosion of water out of the ceiling.
"What in the world..." Mazhe was confused, as he was instantly drenched by the unexpected shower.
"Sprinkler system," Justin answered. "One of you mind making a light while I do this?"
"Got it."
Mazhe flung his hand at the ceiling, and a yellow-tinted light bathed the corridor. Tommy was waking up, and he began squirming again in Mazhe's grip.
"Portus," Justin whispered, causing the chunk of concrete to glow blue.
"Tommy, listen to me. Keep it together a few minutes so we can get out of here," said the older guy. The pair's eyes met, and Tommy nodded. The water flooding from the ceiling had drenched him and Mazhe as well.
"Sit down. Not the best way to take a port key, but it'll be safer," said Justin.
Mazhe put Tommy down. The guy was going into shock from the emotional trauma.
"Put a hand on the piece of debris. It's gonna get us out of here." Harry was already doing so, as was Justin and Mazhe.
"Where are we going by the way?"
"College of Winterhold."
"Justin, no, it's—"
Too late, the group was disappearing in a whirl of limbs. Not too late, however, for a green bolt of magic to impact with one of the passengers.
Albus Dumbledore was silently and inwardly smirking to himself. If Harry Potter believe he had outsmarted the aged wizard, he was sadly mistaking. The boy's name had come out of the goblet. It was just a matter of delivering the sad news, and he would be back within the castle's walls, back under his careful direction.
His thoughts were interrupted, as he found his deputy at the door.
"Albus, I was just listening to the Wireless. There's been a Death Eater attack in America."
"Is that so?"
"Nearly a hundred Muggles killed, hundreds more injured. The Dark Mark has been sighted, this is really serious."
"Oh dear... I'd best make my way to the Ministry. Please continue to try and reach Harry, we do need him to return to the school sooner rather than later."
"I will indeed keep at it. I have dispatched an owl to the Commonwealth, as well as owls to Potter himself, and his godfather. He will turn up sooner rather than later, Albus."
"Then I leave the school in your hands, Minerva."
UP NEXT: Fallout from the attack in Atlantic City; Harry reacts poorly from the message he receives from Dumbledore about the Tournament; and, though Harry is forced into the tournament, the Commonwealth provides a possible solution to accommodations, much to Dumbledore's frustration.
AUTHOR NOTES: No. Harry IS NOT the Dragonborn. He will likely learn a few words, but learning how to shout vs being able to do it naturally are two different things.
I'd not planned on having any significant combat scenario come up, but given the timing of certain things, this needed to happen. It's a given that at least a few people will be requiring the services of a mind-healer. And, naturally, what happens when Tommy and Harry discover who is truly responsible for this mess?
(1) Mey kendov – Fool[ish] warrior.
(2) Dar los nax – This is cruelty.
(3) Now you guys KNEW this was coming, right? Naturally, verbatim, from "Goblet of Fire".
(4) Aaz ko viik – Mercy from defeat
(5) Soul Cairn – Introduced in the 'Dawnguard' Expansion, but is now definitely part of the Elder Scrolls lore.