Chapter Eighteen: Blank Space
The knight gazed down to the pale young man before him, in his travels he'd seen many twisted souls who had been lost from grief and horror; Harry had become one of them. Most people who didn't know a person who'd been twisted wouldn't know what to look for, like the ticks or eyes.
Harold could tell at a glance that something had happened to his heir, to the boy who'd been tormented and wretched a part of his life showing his hell. How a boy could survive such a place and then walk away unscathed he couldn't understand but the fact he was broken now worried him even more.
"Harry….my dear boy…what happened to you?" He questioned in a soft voice, trying his best to hold in his fears.
Harry twisted his head for a moment, his brow raised and looked curious "Did you just call me 'Dear boy'?" He questioned, his expression then turned blank.
Harold raised a confused brow and nodded once, the outburst was instant.
"Don't!" Harry hissed, his eyes filled with rage "Ever call me Dear Boy, you sound like Dumbledore!" His stance was extremely threatening, even though his face was stone cold.
"Why did you come?" Harold asked very simply.
Harry grinned, almost like a cat "I want to learn about the blood I hold." He said waving his arm and a vision of a Thestral appeared, the dark horse with wings; his guardian, his curse.
"Ah….You wanted to talk about that House…" Harold said with a sigh, leaning on his sword "To summon that spirit, you require the Thestral box…It is likely still in its vault as James hated that thing."
"What vault?" Harry inquired.
"127. The Peverell family's personal vault. James said that the Potters have been keeping the bloodline hidden for a proper heir. Over the centuries every heir has been tested but no one has been deemed worthy of the title." Harold explains, his voice eerily calm and a mask of serenity.
"Is that the only spirit? What of Potter?" Harry asked, making a mental note of the vault number.
"No, the Potter family spirit is very relaxed, and usually pretty easy to work with. It takes the form of a Sun-Hawk, much like their cousin the Phoenix they are beings of fire but they're not immortal." The older knight pointed to his shield, that was laying in the corner of the portrait; it had a blazing orange hawk on it.
"I've never heard of these Sun-Hawks…." Harry admitted.
"They're extremely rare, mostly common in low Ireland on a random island. They move every other year, so it's hard to track them. I've met one, think Griffin in size." Harold breathed out a laugh "Bloody hard to kill, basically have to drown them."
"That's not hard." Harry said using his thumb nail to draw blood from his index finger and started to float the drops "You just need a certain skill set, where is the Potter Box?"
"Likely in the Vault on the Potter Estate. You'll find it on the Isle of Man near the north tip." Harold said like he was talking about the weather, but them his calm expression changed "Now, I want to know about this….training you went through."
"Oh? Well, you should take a seat it's a tale." Harry spoke with his twisted grin.
XX~XX~XX~XX
It was the first time he'd been inside in weeks, his normally light skin now had a little colour to it but was still fairly pale. Sirius smiled, looking over at Bellatrix and gave her a stern look one that Harry could see as one of distrust and even doubt. Bellatrix however smiled and waved her younger cousin off, he's job was done after all.
"Welcome Harry, to my training style." Bella said placing her hand on his face, with a warm smile but then she whispered "Crucio."
He wasn't sure what came first, the feeling of a thousand blades being through into his skin or that it felt on fire. When the two clicked however, he dropped into a heap on the floor screaming in pain, pain that seemed to last hours but was only minutes.
"Get up Potter." Bella snarled, getting down low to his face. Instead of warmth that once been there, it was a look of indifference. "You might think you're strong, with all that you've been taught but I'm going to teach you. True. Strength."
Harry was confused at first, mainly because his ears were still ringing and the pain still throbbing to hear her clearly. That was before he was thrown against a wall by a spell, he looked up in shock as she started to throw more at him. The only thing he could do is fight back or get beaten by her, and he wasn't going to go down easy.
The first few moments of the duel were laughable, he was barely standing from the pain but he was countering her spells and using everything that Sirius had taught about a fight. Keep your stance loose, evaluate your enemy, parry and counterstrike whenever possible, and never lose your footing.
These tips helped turn the duel from moments to minutes, in fact Bella seemed to get annoyed by this as she must have expected an easier target. He wasn't a hard target mind you, it was almost like another part of him was coming to light something was helping his hand and the words of the spells seemed to flow from his tongue.
So it seemed even, that was before a throwing knife sunk into his shoulder blade and threw his rhythm off. Then there was the cutting hex, blinding jinx and finally a blasting curse; all of this ended with him being again thrown into a wall.
"While that was impressive for a fourth year, I wasn't even trying." Her voice was heard, then her heeled boot was on his shoulder and the feeling of the dagger was removed from his body. Of course that made him cry out in pain, making her kick him with her foot "Weak! You are too weak!"
This wasn't the last time she would say this, over the course of the next seven days she had him barred from sleep and gave him only paste to eat. The cycle seemed to go: Curse, fight, be punished, cursed again and then a small break before she actually taught him a curse.
It was probably on the eighth day that she drugged him, something in his sandwich with words of encouragement. However, that was also when she listed off all the things in the sandwich and one of them was spiked bread.
"What?" He asked with a bite of the sandwich in his mouth.
"I drugged you, you've been drugged." Bella said pulling out a file, and leaning back against the wall "I'm just going to enjoy the show."
Harry was about to scream at her, pull out his wand and curse her or maybe use his blood magic but it wasn't meant to be. His vision became hazy, and his body grew weak as he fell to the floor.
When he closed his eyes, heard the sounds of screaming and of fire crackling. His eyes shot open, not to see the dark room he'd been in for days but a field; much like the one at Hogwarts. Bodies were thrown around like rag dolls, some in pieces, burning or intact with glassy eyes. He could see some of them, had seen them before and had known them for years, Dean, Seamus, Draco, Ron, Hermione and even Dumbledore rested on a spike.
It made him sick to his stomach, he could smell the flesh burning and the rot of the dead. However a scream stopped his dry heaving, looking over his shoulder as he rested partway on the ground was a few flashes of light.
Harry pulled himself up, flicking his wand from his holster and trudging himself over towards the sounds of battle. He was in the line of trees, out of sight by the enemies 'Never show yourself unless you have to.' Sirius' words rang through his head.
Down in the small canyon, he could see a group of what looked like four or five fighting against a very large number of people; people with white masks and black cloaks. "Kill them!" Someone shouted, screamed as he reeled his hand back.
"Fuck you!" A female voice laughed, a series of curses and black magic flying towards the group "I'll skin you!"
It didn't take Harry long to move into a better position, one that would let him see the enemy and rouge group better. "Gah!" A man barked, pulling his now bleeding arm back "I'm hit!"
"Close rank, Pad-Foot's hurt." A younger male said with a dark hint in his voice, the young man walked forward calling upon magic he didn't know existed. The Earth seemed to shift around his body, the curses of the enemy harmlessly hit his shield as they were cut down by the ground water.
"Moony, can you get him up again?" Another female voice asked, they were all covered with hoods but he now had a feeling he knew them.
"I don't know River, he was hit by a Dark one." Moony growled as he tried to steam the bleeding.
Pad-Foot growled in pain as the man tried to help him "Knives! Fucking skin them!" He barked out, his features becoming more animalistic.
"Anything for you dear cousin!" Knives said with a gleeful laugh, sticking her wand over their cover and throwing a series of curses. One impacted a man in the chest and skinned him with a bright red flash "That's one!"
"Knives, now is not the time. Portkey's." The young man instructed, glaring at his comrades.
The group seemed to not like that idea, as they started to reject; the air became heavy and the light seemed to fade "I said, Portkey's." The man growled again, his eyes glowing like embers from a blaze.
Their rejections faded, and one by one they vanished from their comrade "Good luck, Tempest." Knives whispered, before she too was gone.
Tempest stood slowly, moving himself from cover as the sky still darkened and the rain finally came down. "So, I walk into the valley of the shadow of death." He whispered to himself "I shall fear no evil, fear not death." His eyes shined upon the foes who were gearing for another attack, as his arms started to glow a bright blue and crackles were heard "For I am the Shadow!"
With a flash, the sound of thunder and the smell of ozone, all the foes lay dead around the valley. Their cloaks on fire, their flesh burned and their hearts stopped. "Who are you?" Tempest asked, a familiar sword pressed to his Adam's apple.
"I think you know." He whispered back.
Tempest's smile could be seen under his hood "I do, and you do as well." He said cryptically. "This is what happens should you fail, those you care about will be taken and killed." His voice was hard like stone "Like Fleur, who tried to stop us and make us normal again." The red eyes gleamed in the dark lighting "We're not normal Harry, the only thing that makes us not Voldemort. Is the fact we're trying to kill him and anyone that gets in our way."
Tempest shook slightly, a wisp of a black cloud exiting his body and laughing with madness "So just give into me! Let me fight! LET ME KILL!" The cloud spoke in hushed whispers of pain, anger and pleasure. That was when it flew through him, it felt like when Voldemort did it his first year.
All he felt was pain, the flashes of memories not his own as he went down towards the floor. He could see them, only for seconds but he could see them. Years passed through his eyes, years of experience and of forbidden knowledge with no holdings to him. It was only for a flash, but he knew now and could not explain.
When his eyes opened, he was back inside the dark room. He slowly pulled himself forward, looking towards Bella with a dull red eye gaze. "Thank you, Bellatrix." He whispered "I needed that."
Bella was confused, more focused on the red eyes than anything but then the curses started to fly and she had to react. Curses that he should not know, it was confusing her more at how his drug induced sleep could have made him stronger. It was a hard fight even for her, but he was enjoying it like she was and it made it all the sweeter.
In the end through, he was laying in a heap of unconsciousness. "Oh this is going to be fun….I wonder if the Black Rune will make you like this all the time?" She found herself asking as she began to look for the page.
XX~XX~XX~XX
The dark wisps faded, onto the brick steps in the late evening of a Tuesday and the man walked forward from the ally in front of him. He slowly stepped up the marble steps, the pillars and guard Goblins made himself smile. "I'm here to enter my vault." He said to the guard Goblin, who lowered his axe.
The Goblin grunted, with a steel like glare "We're closing, no one is allowed in." He grunted, then felt something pressing in his throat. It wasn't this human, no wizard could use normal magic on Goblin they were resistant on the inside.
"I suggest, if you want to keep breathing. You will." His voice was cold, and his gaze much like their own full of steel.
The Goblin coughed, his throat closing even more and his eyes began to bulge. The other Goblin turned his axe towards the human "This will not be tolerated." He growled in an even deeper voice.
The human twisted his head, almost looking confused as he did "I just want into my vault, I require something." He said with a wide eyed green gaze. "Don't make me kill you."
The Goblin guards glanced at each other, and pulled back a little bit letting the Human enter the bank. The choked Goblin grunted and took a deep breath as he sucked in air "Master will be pissed…." He grunted.
"You worry too much Oleg, I doubt they'll care. Us dying because of some Human though, I don't even want to start the lectures from our ancestors." The Other growled out, shifting in his armor "That human freaked me out."
"Yeah…you weren't really going to let him kill me right?" Oleg asked the other.
"No, No You worry too much." He grunted, waving his concerns off.
"Right…Right.."
The human walked forward in the nearly empty bank, a few people were walking around with goblins in tow as they discussed their finances or other problems. Though they seemed to be nearly finished, he glanced down at his watch '8:51' he knew the bank closed at 9 but he'd be gone by then hopefully.
He stood in front of the main desk, the same desk that towered over his small eleven year form and gave him nightmares for a few days. Now it wasn't so tall and even made him smile.
"We're closed." The Goblin grunted, not even looking up from his papers.
"I have nine minutes." Can the Human's reply.
"Humans…why bother.." The Goblin growled "What do you want?"
"To enter my vault."
"Which one would that be?"
The human split a grin "127."
The Goblin raised a brow "I'm sorry?" He couldn't have heard that right, only the Potter family had entered that vault to his knowledge.
"127, the Peverell family vault. I need something in there." The human said once more.
"Do you have your key?"
"No."
"Then I can't help you." The Goblin said with a smile.
The Human growled, the green eyes started to shift red "My name is Harrison James Potter, I am the heir of that vault and because I am in the Tri-Wizard tournament which is only for licensed adults I am thus accounted by one." His voice was cold and harsh.
The Goblin nearly spit out his fungi tea, his left hand clutching onto the worn light wood of the desk. "Wh-What!?" He barked out, with a wide eye glaze.
"I will not repeat myself."
The Goblin shook his head, rubbing his brow "I…I need Yaz, get me Yaz damn it!" He barked at the Goblin next to him. "You, follow me." He snarled, glaring at the human before him.
Harry followed the Goblin calmly, hands behind his back and a carefree expression on his face; though his eyes burned holes into any who looked at him. It was a short journey down some hall when he glanced to the left he saw names, Malfoy, Silver, Goyle, McGonagall, Harper, Potter.
The door to the Potter office was of an amber looking wood, with golden metal gleaming on the handle and plate; The Ancient and Resilient House of Potter: Family Accountant Genlock The Crank.
Harry bypassed the Goblin in front of him and opened the door to the office without knocking "Gods damn it! How many times have I told you lot t-" The Older Goblin started with a voice full of venom, though he paused when he looked down at the teen. "Harrison, never thought I'd see the day. Took you five years." He grumbled.
"I'm sorry?" Harry replied, taking a seat in front of the Goblins desk.
Genlock rubbed his silver brow, reaching into his desk and taking out a large glass bottle with a foul green looking liquid.
The Goblin who lead him here coughed quietly, looking at the Account Manager "Sir, Liquor is forbidden, remember?" And then he ducked the knife that was thrown at him.
"This is my gods damn office, if I need a drink to talk to the only heir of the House I have been tasked with. Then you can bitch to Yaz, you little Bont'a." Genlock shouted, taking a draught straight from the bottle and then pouring him a glass to the top "What the Raish, are you still doing here! Get the hell out of my Office!" Another dagger was thrown.
The Goblin quickly ran out of the room, closing the door with enough to time so the silver dagger was shinning in the amber wood. "Raishing Bont'a." He growled, peering down at the teen who was interested; based on his expression.
"Can we begin?" Harry asked with a brow raised, arms crossed and glasses down a bit.
"Of course. Now then to your first question, I sent you a request to sit with me when you turned ten. Now normally it is the parent's duty to the heir to teach them how to manage an account, being yours are dead, that won't do." Genlock explained, pulling out a thick file from the desk and slamming it on the large wooden surface.
"The Potter's are ancient, extremely ancient." Genlock started, drinking again "The records are vague on a time frame, but the Potter house can track the line straight through the Founders Era and then out of the A.D. This is when things don't get muddy, they disappear."
"What do you mean?"
"Simply put we know the Potters fought against the invading Romans and against the Goblin Hert The Giant." Genlock explained, tapping the first page of the file "Other than that we have two names, Flemeth and Eadweard Potter. Flemeth was a witch, it is suspected that she was the founding Potter and Eadweard is her son, who fought against them both."
Genlock held up a photo of a stone, on the stone it showed two forces; one human with snake-like black hair and blazing red eyes, while the other was smaller and a frosted blue. Around it was written in some ancient language he couldn't read, much less guess.
"This is found in our own city's deep vault, where our ancestors recorded the history of their people."
"What makes you think this is a Potter?"
Genlock smirked, knocking out the rest of his drink "Potter's have always had deep black hair, it is a genetic commonality." He held up another picture, the stone painting on this one towered over the other picture; the woman had similar black hair but silver eyes dressed in leather like outfit "This is Flemeth, she had power that over exceeded her son but she didn't fight."
Harry raised a brow, looking the picture over "Why wouldn't she fight? If she was stronger than her son, why risk losing?" He asked leaning forward in his chair.
"There are no actual accounts, but it is believed she wanted her son to perform the task." Genlock set his glass down, shifting through a few more files. "What little we can translate, say that Madam Potter while powerful had health issues and wanted her son to fight."
"Did it ever say what she had?" He interrupted.
Genlock shrugged "We're not sure, but based on the picture it had something to do with her blood." He gestured to the picture in question, showing thin black lines going across her pale skin into her eyes.
"What families were the Potter's close to?" He asked after a moment of thought.
"The Black and Peverell family were close to the Potter's once upon a time, but when the Potter put their banner of war down it strained the Black relations to a breaking point." The Goblin sighed, lighting a cigar and taking a deep puff "The Peverell however remained very close to the Potter, which is until the line was cut off by deception and the family died off."
"Any other outstanding history?"
Genlock nodded "We have records that a Harold and Gwenllian Potter, were personal friends of the Founding members of Hogwarts and that their daughter Diana Potter married into the Slytherin house. Fredric Potter fought in the Goblin war of 1374, died fighting against a horde with John Longbottom. Then there was the joining of the Peverell House, much of that is shrouded truthfully we have Lolanthe and Hardwin who were survivors of a terrible Pox epidemic in their generation." He flipped through a few more files "We have you of course, the Boy-Who-Lived and other than a few inventors, warriors or politicians that's all we know."
"There seems to be a lot of warriors in the Potter house, is that normal?"
"More or less, Potter normally turn to Dragon Hunting to pass the time and test themselves." Genlock yawned, glancing at his watch "The Bank closed, you need to leave."
"No without the contents of that vault." Harry stood up growling.
"And I already have it, Mr. Potter." A new voice said, smoother than silk.
Harry turned to see another Goblin, though where most were short and stout, this one seemed to taller and thinner than the rest of them. The Goblin had short hair, that was either light black or dark brown, and a sickening set of sharp white teeth. In his hands was a simple wooden box, silver wrapped around the corners and a skull latch held the box shut.
"This is what you wished correct Mr. Potter? A way to contact the Peverell Family spirit?"
Harry nodded, standing up and walking over to the Goblin "Yes, thank you." He said calmly, holding his hands out for the box. "I'm Harry Potter."
"Yaz Ranock. I'm the Bank's Head Manager." The Goblin placed the box in his hands "I'm always happy to assist my clients, though Mr. Potter I say you have over stayed your welcome. We would be more than willing to help you more, tomorrow."
Harry bowed his head "Thank you once more, I apologize for my intrusion." He looked over at his account manager "We'll go over the finances at a later date, just keep doing what you're doing." With that he walk around the Bank Manager, only to hear him and Genlock speaking in Goblin.
Looking down at the box in his hands made him smile, the top of it had a ghostly painted Threstal on it.
XX~XX~XX~XX
"I have a question, Mon Amour." Her light voice danced through his left ear, her slender body sliding up against his as he rested in a comfortable couch. Her fragrance assaulted his senses, filling him with a smell that could only be described as her own perfect scent.
He could feel her hand lightly dancing along his chest, her lips ever so close to his ear to hear her every breath and whisper. Harry slowly slid his hand down from her shoulder, to her lower back barely touching the exposed skin from her ridding shirt.
Harry grinned at her, his eyes still closed and far more comfortable than he'd been a minute ago "And I have answers, Mon Coeur." He whispered, placing his lips upon her exposed neck as her hand still trailed his chest.
"Where 'ave you been all night?" She whispered up to him, still hugging herself close to him "I looked all over for you."
"I wasn't in the castle." He answered simply, finally opening his eyes and looking back into her own.
Fleur raised a brow a him, her face a mix of confusion and what looked to be a form of hurt "Oh? Where were you then?" She asked, her voice was solid and he knew better than lie to her.
Harry smiled at her, placing his lips along her knuckles after taking her hand with his free one "I first stopped at Gringotts, I required something from my family." With his eyes, he lead her to the simple box. "Then I went to the Shrieking Shack and summoned the Peverell family specter."
Her light delicate eyebrows went into her hair line, she leaned back using his hand for a little bit of support as she glared lightly at him "What did it say?"
Fleur's simple question, caused his face to harden and his eyes glared not at her but simply out at the world behind her "It wasn't pleased with me." He growled, anger clear in his form and expressions.
"Explain, S'il vous plait."
XX~XX~XX~XX
The room was dark, the curtains were drawn and a simple table was placed in the center of the space. Everything around it was pushed back, he spent what felt like hours looking for what lay on the worn wood. It was a dust like skull, white and cracked but its shape was obviously not human but more that of a horse.
Black candles burned a purple like flame, surrounding the skull and a silver bowl rested in front of it like an offering. Inside of the bowl was a mixture of herbs, bones and drops of blood; he did exactly as the box had said.
Amaryllis dust, Cypress seeds, Honeysuckle leaves, and black rose thorns had been mixed delicately with the ground horn of a white ram, the wing bones of a crow and the claws of a black cat. The final ingredient was the blood of the son, the life of the family and ties that bind one to another.
He said near the offering bowl, his eyes closed as he waited speaking out in a drawn voice "I Harrison James Potter, keeper of House Peverell summon its spirit heed my call and obey my command." He whispered, lighting the bowl into a purple like blaze.
Within moments the sounds of hooves clattered the flagstone, shadows danced in the corners of his vision; but always remained out of focus. Until a laughing taunting voice was heard "You command me? I answer purely out of respect, though that is slowly dwindling Harry." As he looked for the voice, it was suddenly in his face the specter like snout of the horse.
Only the first half of its body seemed to be pulled into this word, enough of it to see the beginnings of its great wings. The white eyes trailed his movement, almost like looking into death itself.
"I summoned you, because I need the power you have."
The specter laughed, it wasn't one of humor however this was a cold, haunting and insulting laughter. "Harry, Harry….I only offer power to those who dissever it, and normally only to those who are Peverell in nature….with that thing though, you are only family through blood and nothing more."
"What thing? The rune?"
"It insults me more, knowing that you are ignorant of what plagues you but as I said I only help the deserving. Harrison James Potter, you are not worthy of the Peverell line so I offer you this alone: Death isn't the ending."
Without another word, the ritual fires vanished and the haze with it as the sound of hooves disappeared into the void. The silence lasted for no more than three seconds before the Potter heir grabbed the horse like skull and threw it into the wall
Screaming out his rage.
XX~XX~XX~XX
Hello, Hello: How is everyone doing on this fantastic Friday day? So there is the newest update of this story, this one filling in a few of the gaps I created a little while ago and setting up the setting for the next few chapters. However, the next one will be the Third or Four tasks and Harry will face off against those like him.
Shadow: This will always be a Fleur/Harry story, but like any relationship they might go through a few hiccups. About the Black rune, just wait for it because it will be grand.
Area: It's actually funny, he does understand emotions but most of what he is putting out there is simulated he feels very little at the moment because of the Rune on his chest.
Ymere: You needn't offer any explanation, I knew when I first went this route that I would lose some of my fans. I understand completely if you don't want to read through the darkness, and if you choose to leave I only thank you for sticking with me this far.
To everyone else, I would also like to thank you staying with me to here. It has certainly been a bit of a ride eh? And Fourth year isn't even close to being over yet. I recall someone asking if this was to be a series and the answer is a simple yes. I plan on doing three or four Acts to the Firebird.
So have a fantastic day everyone! ~ Demon.