December 1988
The month had been quiet for Dudley, Harry had disappeared to God knows where and Mr. Ollivander had left to do something for the Wizengamot for the holidays. Dudley smartened his coat and headed out the door. No one noticed him leave.
It was a windy afternoon in London. The various ornaments of the festive season were swaying stiffly in the frosty gale. The streets were filled with more people and tourists. Dudley made sure to be aware of his surroundings. He couldn't afford to be stopped this time. The Enfield in his coat pocket grew heavier at the thought. He walked briskly to Trafalgar Square. Same place, same time, he reminded himself.
The square had gotten it's holiday cheer recently. Norway had donated it's yearly Christmas tree by now. Garlands of holly and ribbon were thrown about with disturbing frequency. Dudley tried his best to ignore the festivities and made his way to the bench.
Quickly whipping out the pager he sat there and waited. Staring at the glowing lime colored screen like a lifeline. At exactly 5:35 it rang its distinctive jingle. Dudley nearly dropped it in shock. Fumbling with it he finally got a good grasp and read the prompt.
"Good afternoon Dudley, check under your seat?" He whispered.
He hadn't noticed anything under the bench when he first arrived. As discreetly as possible, which was poorly by anyone else's standards, Dudley tilted his head to peek under the bench. Sure enough a small box wrapped in festive Christmas paper and fanfare, greeted him.
Picking it up he noticed a cheekily scrawled "Merry Christmas" on the front. Rolling his eyes, he opened the box to find a picture and a map. Giving both a once over, Dudley found a message.
Arnold Leven: Confirmed Vampire, enthralled a local street gang to bring him victims. Can be found in the areas marked on your map, picture has been provided. Eliminating the target is the priority, the rest of the gang is fair play. Have fun.
Dudley was floored, it was his in on ridding the world of those damn bloodsuckers, sure it was a small fry but the promise of getting at a bigger fish later on excited Dudley. Thinking on it he furrowed his brow.
He knew he would need some equipment for the job, and he only had two bullets left for his Enfield. Dudley, even with his minor training knew to not go charging into something that could drink you like a juice box. He was brought out his thoughts with a small thud. His box got slightly heavier.
Dudley looked down, finding ten more rounds for his pistol.
"Cheeky bastard." Dudley laughed out. That made things much easier. Dudley made his way back to the workshop, making a list in his head of the things he'd need.
Arriving back in a timely fashion he grabbed a few pieces of white oak wood from the storage. They often gave him the task of doing inventory so the head manager of the younger kids never asked for the keys back after the first few months. Dudley was enjoying the advantage it gave him. After measuring twice and sketching out some shapes he moved over to the machining tables.
Cutting on the bandsaw Dudley started the long process of forming stakes. This time he would be prepared.
A Week Ago
Harry fell through the portal as soon as his second foot followed on. Then a long falling feeling began. A twisting sensation pulling and pushing his body together like a taffy puller. Far too different from his own form of transportation. All ending with him being shot out like a cannonball out into lush grass. What he hoped wasn't his blood turned out to be fresh dew. Wiping off his trousers he looked around and stared in awe.
"Forget bloody Kansas." He breathed out.
Standing atop a hill Harry saw a dazzlingly lush green plain, spreading out as far as his eyes could see. The grass looked to be to Harry's shins and was spotted with flecks of vibrant purple wild lavender here and there. Dandelions and marigolds shown like sprinkles of gold. And the clouds in the sky were few, as to show off the baby blue, orange-pinkish tinged sky. Harry assumed the lack of night time bug sounds meant the sun looked to be rising soon.
He looked up finding no portal.
"Looks like the only way is forward, but…" Harry spun in a circle. "No landmarks." He sighed.
He sat down in his meditative pose and got comfortable. A minute passed, then another, and another. Rabbits hopped past and tilted their heads at the unusual sight. A bird used him for a perch but still no movement. He sat perfectly still until the sun read eight o'clock.
To an outside observer Harry was a statue until his head snapped over in a direction and his eyes fluttered open.
"Magic says that way." Getting up with a jump, Harry started his hike northward grabbing a few handfuls of flowers on the way.
Harry made his way down the hill, the soft crunch of the grass setting the tone of his march. The wind blew softly across the field, waving to Harry as he passed. Through fields of green. Over soft peaked, stubbled hills and subtle slopes.
The weather was pleasant and the terrain forgiving. Which was good in Harry's case because of his lack of gear to carry. But he knew he couldn't leave until his "training",as the old man called it, was done. And he would either need to complete it before sundown or figure out how to get food, water and shelter soon.
Harry was once again cursing that drama queen of an old man. Leaving him in some godforsaken wilderness no matter how picturesque, with nothing but the clothes on his back, was what Harry felt defined a "dick move."
"It will help "cultivate" your magics, Mr. Potter." Harry mocked. "It's a trial that countless wizards have partaken in. Bollocks to that, if I knew it was a camping trip, I would have at least brought toilet paper."
After complaining for a while Harry found his first landmark, a large hill formed from limestone. The many grasses and dandelions hiding in the cracks covering the rock showed its age. It had a few openings that made it look awfully familiar to a sideways skull.
He was halfway past when a small tingling feeling in his mind halted him. He could see in the morning sun a faint brown glow coming from the eye socket caves. It had a feeling like rubbing his hand on Petunia's granite worktop.
The call of magic and his own sense of adventure telling him to investigate. Harry quickly found footing and made his way up. Climbing over the "cheek" of the skull and crawling into the cave Harry looked around in awe.
He found a myriad of crude carvings,idols and paintings drawn all around. Some of animals Harry couldn't have thought of. A few paintings with people dueling with strange weapons and powerful magics. One of people and animals kneeling to a faceless woman with green hair, crowned with a rainbow of flowers, and skin the color of fertile soil.
The most intact painting depicted humans and humanoid figures riding various beasts into a battle against giant lions with forked tails and a blob creature with thousands of eyes and tendrils drawn with cruel jagged edges.
The artwork all seemed to converge onto the center piece. A statue of a burly pair of identical twins; one male, one female. Covered in grey stone armor. Both holding a single gauntlet high above. Each one inlaid with a goldish crystal, illuminating all other drawings.
As Harry approached the brown glow got more intense. Carefully stepping forward he just grazed them when dual voices were heard in his head.
"Will you stand firm, as a rock? Will you stem the flow? Will you stall the wind? As the dirt does, will you hold back the flame underneath? Will you endure?" The voices ended together.
Harry was bombarded with his worst memories of the Dursley's.
Petunia's mockery, Vernon's beating, Dudley's bullying. The growing seed of envy at his unconditional love from his parents. The wallowing, the mockery, the mistrust, the looks, their whispers.
"A freak."
He was reminded of every wound, every scar, mentaly buried and half healed. He clattered to the ground. He screamed. White flashes of pain arced through him, blurring his vision.
"A freak."
His eyes watered. Was Denever his fault? Did he lead him there? If he didn't hesitate would everyone survive? Would Dudley be so self destructive? He wouldn't be forced to live in secret, like he did now. If he was never born Harry Potter, would he live as a normal boy? Would people like him? Would his parents be alive?
Harry felt naked. The comforting song never came to soothe him. He couldn't feel his magic.
Harry noticed his hands first. He was small again. His old malnourished self, wearing Dudley's far too large cast-offs.
Through the pain he saw a foot.
Looking up he found a familiar walrus mustache face.
"I swore when you appeared on our doorstep." His voice just as Harry remembered." We would beat the freak out of you, boy." Vernon Dursley purple faced and big boned in all his glory stood towered over Harry.
"Good job you did." Harry spat. His anger simmered at the sight of the dead man.
"No boy, I'd say we did rather well." Vernon's face almost made a smile. "Better than your no good, waste of space, parents."
"My parents were great people." He spoke through gritted teeth.
"Great enough to abandon you."
Harry swung.
The impact felt good. The satisfying thwack against Vernon's cheek was a therapeutic sound to him as Vernon was bloodied.
A heartbeat passed before Harry felt the force of his punch sent right back at him. Knocking him back, sliding down the cave wall.
"Get up boy." Vernon's teeth were rose colored. "Are you a ninny like I thought when you cried on my stoop, a wretched little parasite?"
Harry slowly got up and spit out blood. Wiping his nose he rushed towards Vernon.
"That's it boy come get what you deserve."
Harry ducked under a left hook. Sending two quick jabs and getting pain in his own torso in return. He gasped.
Vernon laughed as an uppercut sent Harry's blood arcing on the cave floor. Vernon quickly grabbing Harry's head, kneed him twice in the face, breaking his nose.
Harry cupchecked to get free.
The pain hurt him a little less because of his younger body, while Vernon stumbled with a groan. Harry started rushing in to capitalize, but Vernon kicked him in the chest. Feet scraping against the gravel he caught himself.
He wasn't ready for a swift blow right to the gut, with the force of a mace.
Harry started wheezing as he swung back but Vernon caught him, grabbing Harry in a chokehold. Meaty hands like a vice. Turning them both to the same shade of purple. Harry tried kicking his way out. Each one getting weaker the longer Vernon's hold held through.
While his vision blurred, Harry bit Vernon's arm in desperation. Vernon yelled, releasing his grip on Harry's throat. Flinging him towards the wall
When Harry turned around to face him, Vernon's foot lashed out again, finding purchase on Harry's knee, a sharp popping sound ran through the cave.
Harry rolling over to the floor with a yell.
Vernon stomped down. An echoing snap. Harry silently screamed.
Vernon kicked his downed head into the cave wall. Growing more purple with anger by the second.
"I. Told. You. Boy." Each word punctuated with a kick.
"I'd. Beat. It." Each sending Harry deeper and deeper into the cave wall.
"Out. Of. You." Harry stopped moving.
"That showed you your place freak." Vernon's face went back to its normal pink.
Wiping his bloodied shoes on Harry's cast-off shirt. He turned around. Then stopped and sniffed the air.
"Ozone?"
He didn't see the punch to his throat, or the one to his ribs.
Harry's body flashed over to Vernon's left side, lashing out at Vernon's knee with his good leg. Vernon dropped like a felled tree. Harry followed up with a devastating headbutt to Vernon's nose.
Harry was numbed, his nose was already broken. His bones already ached, his spirit already tested. What did it matter? Sitting on Vernon's chest, Harry let it all out. His tiny hands slowly grew back to their normal size. He got taller and his new fitting clothes came back to him.
Six long years of damage and helplessness directed to Vernon while Harry's face grew puffy with each strike.
A bit of Vernon's blood got into Harry's now swollen eyes. Wiping it off, Harry lifted his fist to go back to his vengeance. Until, for a moment, he saw the meaty hand of Vernon bloodied from a golden eyed Harry Potter staring back at him.
It changed back on to a half golden eyed stone skinned Vernon Dursley.
"I was a hen laying on the egg of a snake." He made a pathetic attempt at a laugh. Defeated and bloody but hanging on, Vernon only sported a wound on his neck all the other damage from Harry was gone.
"I saw it boy, if the vampire didn't do me in, you would have, with your own freakishness.
So why don't you now? I'm already dead."
Harry's fist clenched.
"You've been planning it for a while, I saw it boy. You wouldn't have done it quickly in our sleep, no. You wanted us to suffer, like you."
Harry's magic flared once more. "You wanted your revenge."
"You're right." Harry's fist went down with sparks dancing along his fingers. Cutting straight through Vernon's head, a quick finish.
"I thought about it a lot, after every beating, after every bit of abuse." A breath Harry was holding in let loose.
"But it will be to put that chapter of my life to rest. I refuse to let you or anything from that house shape me in any way I don't want."
The golden eyes of Vernon shot open and the twin voices rang true. "Good Answer"
A golden goop flooded the floor crawling up Harry's hand. It hardened like concrete trapping his arm. He struggled against it thrashing all the while.
He sent wild arcs of electricity loose to try to free himself, but to no avail. He screamed as the goo continued to move up his body. Muffling him, then blocking his ears and nose. Until finally, it covered his eyes and the world was no more.
Harry found himself staring at the statue in the cave, just as pristine as he started. He wildly spun around in justified panic, then started patting himself down to make sure everything was still there.
On the first pass he noticed none of the injuries had stayed. "That was quite nice of them." He mused. "But I'd rather the sticks and stones thanks." He accused the statue.
He would only feel the pain of a broken nose once, and it would at least have the courtesy to leave. His many psychological wounds just layed about and the new ones stacked on top each other.
As he made his way towards the opening, he felt a tightening around his fingers. Unnoticed during his body search, the two goldish crystals became transformed into two golden rings. With some engravings that looked to be in a marbled, direct type of script and half the symbol for Gemini on each.
The light twinkled once more in the engravings then flickered. Looking around the cave it felt like a closed museum. Harry took the hint and left.
Moving down the skull cheek, he felt the tingle of magic pulling him towards heading north again. Not one to disappoint he reorientated and restarted his rhythm.
"Come back soon. You still have much to learn to properly wield our gift." A fleeting dual voice rang in his mind. Harry would make a marker of the spot if just to avoid it for as long as he could.
"With no paper or writing tools, Potter?" His inner voice snarked. He would be sure to make a mental map then.
The more he thought on it the harder it was to stop making a face at his over eagerness to hop inside the portal unprepared.
"If you're lost, remember to bring a map." He thought, shooing away a bumblebee that was attracted to his new rings. Turning away from the Skull Caves, he carried on for a time as magic compelled him to continue. The crunching of grass was the only reminder of his journey. He had a lot to think about.
A few more hours into the hike, The sun was high into the sky. Harry was beginning to become a little jaded with the scenery. And was mentally exhausted from the Skull Cave ordeal. So when clusters of trees began to show up Harry took a much needed respite. Falling into the shade provided. He quickly fell to a peaceful nap.
He had a dream of a rainbow stag fighting a weeping tree, an angry mountain caging a bird and a redhead woman laughing at a man with glasses.
He came to when the sun was low, he smacked his dry lips, scratched his head and looked up, cursing himself for dozing off so long. Precious hours of sunlight wasted. After beating himself up a bit mentally his stomach growled. Food, he had no food. No food meant no magic, no magic meant defenseless Harry. He shook his head, "a worried man dies faster." He couldn't fret about, he had to keep going and hope to find something on the way.
Thinking back on some of his tutoring under Ollivander he remembered about the growth of a forest. The increase of trees is a good thing. He equated it to a source of water nearby picking up the pace he began to find more trees. These were denser and had no path leading into them reaffirming that Harry was indeed in the sticks.
Harry had a choice: conserve time and go in the wooded area or stamina going around. Possibly getting lost in a wood in the dark or outside it trying to find a water source that may or may not be there. He didn't have the time or stomach to think it over with meditation. Harry decided to bite the bullet.
Making his way into the thicket he scraped by the brambles and branches. Doing his best to protect his face. Pushing his way through after getting stuck in a rough patch, the foliage gave a sharp snapping sound. Sending Harry sliding down a steep woodland hillside.
Thinking quickly he grabbed onto some of the rocky outcropping slowing down his descent. "This is another reason to find water and shelter soon." Harry thought. Imagining the same fall with zero visibility wasn't a pleasant thought. Shaking his head clear and slowly following a safer path down, Harry walked deeper into the forest making sure to snap twigs and generally mark his path so as to not get lost on the way.
As the sun nipped the horizon Harry decided to stop for the night. Wandering out in the night wasn't going to help him do anything but get lost. He decided to look around for a place to sleep. He found an upturned tree's roots that with a bit of work could be used to house him for at least the night.
Harry used the last bit of light to gather piles of leaves and some moss from the nearby area to use as bedding. It looked like he would spend the night on an empty stomach. No use whining about it now.
Harry tried to have a good night's sleep. Rolling deeper into the tree roots Harry shivered late into the night. To the sounds of the forest, Morpheus took him.
"I'm sorry Mr. Potter you did what?!" Ollivander half asked, half shouted.
Harry jumped back a little, "I just took the electricity from the grid, and channeled it, no big deal." Harry shrugged.
Ollivander looked like someone just snapped one of his custom wands. "No big deal he says" Ollivander looked at him exasperated. "You should be Dead Mr. Potter. Capital D, Dead."
"It's not that serious, I channeled the elements. You know that's wizarding 101."
"Who told you that?!" Ollivander's eyes got a sharp glint to them, their wildness restrained only enough to figure out who was to blame. "I'll turn their intestines into snakes and their lashes to needles!"
Harry backed up a bit. "I read a couple of comics and thought it'd be cool to try."
Ollivander smacked the sides of his head. "Imagine Harry Potter, having Muggleborn Syndrome, I'm sorry Mr. Potter, your knowledge of the world of magic beforehand caused me to overlook the idea that you may have tried to experiment with ideas of magic from the non-magical world."
"What's wrong with that?" Harry looked put out.
"Nothing is wrong with exploring the limits and being creative with magic, but many first-generation wizards and witches try to copy something and often don't have the know how or supervision of an adult magical to undo any possible damage. Experimental magic has taken the lives of countless magicals young and old."
"That's pretty reasonable actually." Harry stubbornly conceded, but he wasn't happy with Ollivander having at him for all his hard work.
Ollivander sighed. "Mr. Potter, while yes it is true that wizards do wield the seven elements rarely do we choose something as volatile as lightning." Ollivander gave a berating look that Harry sheepishly looked away from.
"And we do so under our own power, to limit ourselves. The same way the body gives pain to tell us to stop doing something that will cause permanent damage to it." Ollivander finished.
"I'm not going to give up magic until I get a damn letter from a bunch of ivory towered bastards." Authority and Harry were water and oil at the best of times.
The British school system and their lack of control monitoring Dudley's gang, the citizens of Privet Drive and the ever present Vernon and Petunia Dursley were Harry's prime examples of what not to look up to.
Harry had taken extreme gambles already for his craft, he still didn't fully understand why Ollivander cared so much about someone he only personally knew for a few months.
"No Mr. Potter, me barring you would be hypocritical on my part. Your style of magic is unprecedented and should be cultivated like any other talent."
"Great so when do lessons start, will I get a wand, staff or stave? Ooh, ooh maybe a pocket tome." Harry practically vibrated at the thought until Ollivander crashed the party.
"I'm sorry Mr. Potter I won't be able to provide you with a wand or foci for now."
Harry made to protest but Ollivander raised a hand. "Mr. Potter, what have our lessons taught you about wands?"
"They're for more control over magic, by creating a safe conduit for magic to channel from the body to the outside." Ollivander nodded.
"You should have remembered that modern wands were made to standardize magical output, so that younger magicals could be weaned off of their personal reserve "accidental magic" and start pulling from the weave. Using a small portion of their personal magic as tribute, much like a ritual."
After his very Ravenclaw fueled lecture Ollivander's eyes narrowed.
"You have been circumventing this by offering up other things when you normally wouldn't have the magic to do so. Such as some of the pure energy from the grid like in the case of the electricity becoming lightning. A wand or foci at this important junction in your life would be detrimental to the cultivation of your gift." Ollivander nodded sagely.
"This is just a ploy so you don't have to spend more time away from your trinkets."
Ollivander vehemently denied and shooed Harry off to his shift in the workshop.
Harry woke up to the sounds of the morning forest birds. The blinding sun hitting his glasses. He started with a jolt. Knocking his head on the underside of his tree root bungalow. An expletive later Harry and some checks to see that nothing drew blood. Harry moved the leaves to the side and snapped off a piece of root. Starting a list.
"Needs." Harry scrawled, smacking his dry mouth. "Water, Food…" Harry looked up at the dirt and roots making up his current lodging. "Shelter's good," Harry sniffed his shirt. "Bath."
He looked over the list and clapped his hands. "Alright." Harry shimmied out of the roots of his tree and got his first good look of the area around him.
It was a rare clearing in the bush. Thin young trees trying to peek out their place in the sun under the monoliths of the older ones. Harry's tree being the oldest and biggest of the bunch. Sunlight came through swaying leaves and birds nests. Leaving beams of light to cast rainbows off of the morning dew. The ground levels coated with a slick lime colored moss. Proving nothing but Harry had made use of the clearing in sometime.
Harry quickly gathered a broad leaf from the ground and channeled a bit of magic into it. Thinking hard about the feeling of his thirst.
Droplets of dew slowly started to rise up all around Harry. Shining like gemstones in the air and coalescing into a hand sized bubble of water. Enough to quench Harry's thirst for now.
He almost spat it back out at the first sip. It had an awfully strong bitter leafy taste to it, but he just swallowed it down quickly. Harry gagged a bit but managed to keep it down.
"Raw forest green tea." Harry tried to clean his tongue on his dirtied t-shirt.
Heading out of the clearing in between his unsuccessful attempts to get rid of the taste.
"I'll need more water soon and with a water source, food should follow." Leaving a path of broken branches Harry moved deeper into the forest. Taking note of any signs of anything edible looking along the way.
A ten minute jaunt through the thicket yielded some good results. The trees started to thin out a little and the sound of running water was just a few feet away. Harry was happy to find a creek nestled into a small ravine. The source of it was a sizable waterfall to the east.
It wasn't huge but it continued on for some time westward. Making his way down to the clay and rocky banks he tentatively stuck his finger into the water. Perfectly chilled. Then dunked his head in to take a long drink.
After coming back up Harry took a few seconds to catch his breath and rest a bit in the clay banks. He looked down and had an idea. Taking handfuls of clay and working it into a fist sized ball, Harry closed his eyes and the ball began to spin rapidly. Moving his fingers in complex motions the ball flattened and shaped itself into a vessel. Turns out he had some natural talent for it, who knew?
Harry squeezed his hand into a fist and the grey pot started glowing red, until he felt it was ready. Harry called it back to him and tapped it, hearing the almost metallic sound of kiln hardened clay. After amusing himself with an anecdote on whether Harry's Pots or Potter Harry's was a better store name, Harry collected water to bring back with him. Task number one completed.
Walking back to his clearing Harry immediately started to clear the brush from it. Digging out a pit for a future fire. Separating it into useful and only good for tinder. After a sip from his jug, He started the long process of weaving some vines and plant fiber into cordage and then rope. An hour later he deemed his amount sufficient and began working on something to hunt and hunt with.
Harry found a few young trees to use. Taking a jagged stone Harry started to saw and twist the saplings to cut them down. Dragging them back to the clearing Harry started carving out a few to be crude spears.
Next he attached a good length of the rope to a sturdy sapling to act as a fishing rod. He saved a particularly springy one for later to be a bow. Grabbing all the stuff he needed, Harry headed out.
"Do three square box turns after it turns chartreuse colored, set to roaring boil for two hours." Dudley read out from a thick tome to Harry. "The bloody hell is chartreuse?" Dudley questioned.
"I think it's alcohol?" Harry answered. "Green, made in France?"
Dudley turned his nose, "Sounds fitting." Harry snorted.
"Oi, you reckon this potion shite gets any harder?" Dudley peered into the cauldron, moving out of the way of a popping bubble. "Right now I'd say it's no harder than cookin'."
Harry stayed focused on the potion, doing the three squared stirs as soon as the liquid was a light green.
"Dudley, only you could suck the magic out of brewing potions and what do you know about cooking?" Harry turned briefly to raise an eyebrow.
"I've watched some shows with Mum once or twice." Stopping to think. "And I've cooked a few meals in my day." He finished chuffed.
Harry looked over, exasperated. "You microwaved pizza bites."
"Potato, Patato. Food made. Food eaten." Dudley smacked the rim of the cauldron. "Simple Potter."
"What is this microwave? The workers in the woodshop keep demanding I get one for the break room." Ollivander stepped down the stairs to the potions lab.
"It's a normal people way to cook food really fast." Dudley chimed in.
"Peculiar, what caused this line of thought?" Ollivander asked after giving a nod to the potions current state.
"Potion making is just cookin'." Dudley waved off. "Nothin to it's just a bit of this, some of that, then add eye of newt and boom, cure for the common cold."
Ollivander chuckled.
"You're not wrong Mr. Dursley, the preparation of potion ingredients is identical to cooking at lower levels, but eventually potions becomes more akin to chemistry. Some consider it an art later consequences of a wrong stir or a poorly cut ingredient could easily be an explosion or a substance strong enough to melt through your feet before you notice."
Harry paled, taking a cautionary step back. Ollivander laughed.
"Remember students, just cooking an omelet does not a master chef make, don't be afraid to break a few eggs." He lightly nudged Harry back towards the cauldron.
"Be sure to always work to improve your craft and don't shirk the basics."
The chime of a timer brought the boys back to their stirring.
Dudley got comfortable in his perch, a vantage point above the typical hangout of the street gang. From up here everything looked small. He couldn't see their faces too clearly, but that's how he preferred it. He didn't need a face to know his target. He found out he could feel it.
Dudley thought that it was a smart idea for the vampire to be so inconspicuous looking. But ultimately a wasted effort. A primal sensation wafted off of a lankier looking teen in the middle. Dudley, as soon as his little stake out started, noticed it immediately. Maybe it was the way he walked and stood far too confidently for someone his age. Maybe the way he almost left Dudley's sight when the shadows hit him at the right angle. He didn't quite know why, but he'd been learning today to not look at a gift horse, and all that.
Soon most of the gang went their separate ways, but not the target. He stood still for a moment. A moment too long for Dudley.
He quickly ducked behind the roof's parapet. Prone flat on his stomach. He didn't dare move. A few precious seconds passed. He knew that he'd have to quickly remedy the situation or he'd quickly become the hunted. Then the eaten.
Waiting a few moments more for safety, Dudley began to shimmy his way out of his target's line of sight. Doubling back around he found his target walking off into one of the dive apartment's opening from the alleyway. Not a care in the world.
Dudley quickly slid down the fire escape ladder to get a better vantage point. A front row view.
Planting his feet with a squish on to the grimy half cobble half concrete street, smothered light from windows and a single orange street lamp illuminated the cutaway. Dudley took a look around.
Graffiti from the street gang decorated the brick walls. Half rotten doors dotted the way, with bins overflowing with rubbish guarding them. Blocking people from entering or leaving. The smell of urine and alcohol clung in the air. Not the vampiric lair he thought he'd be stumbling into.
He did his best to quiet his steps as he made his way towards a window to listen in.
"The Ash Lady herself still hasn't come yet." A gruff voice caught Dudley's attention.
"More of her men are pouring in from the continent, it's gettin' kinda stuffy and a good dinner's gettin' rarer." A voice said between coughs.
"You'd think she'd have enough to feed on in the USSR. Lots a people an' all that."
"People that stand in line for beets, they'd be all marrow! Rumor is she prefers veal anyway."
"Beets are dandy for blood flow, ya know!"
"Issat right?"
"Will the two of you shut up!" A silky voice shouted. "Slowly starving is bad enough without you two bumbling idiots moaning on about it. A shuffling sound could be heard. Dudley felt a chill. He didn't notice the sounds of the street being muffled.
"The Ash Lady is trying to snuff us out, to replace us with her dogs like Cullen. Too many Black Scourges will tip off the wandwavers, or worse Hellsing."
"She's looking for someone, we need to figure out what." The gruff voice called out.
"No, we need to be vigilant to threats and get her men off our turf, just hit 'em hard and they'll drop."
"Both are possibilities…" The silky voice started. "But let's see what our guest has to say."
Dudley's eyes widened, once again diving to the ground as this time rounds of gunfire exploded from the window.
He rolled towards the bins as shards of broken glass showered down on him, finding safety in the piles of rubbish. Dudley caught his breath as the bullets slowed down. He wished Harry was here, or at least that he was here to teleport him to not be pinned down. What would he do in this situation? Something stupid and completely bullshite no doubt.
"Little rat little rat, come out to play! The silky voice rang out and curled into Dudley's ear.
A sharp reminder of Denever caused him to immediately bite his tongue. As the blood pooled in his mouth a plan formed.
"My ghouls will find you so why don't you just come to me." The silky voice called again, unsure on why his allure didn't work. A rustling from his left. He snapped and pointed towards the trash. The ghouls stepped up and unloaded rounds into it.
After a few seconds of fire the ghouls were halted by a trash bin lid, covered with splattering of blood, slowly rolling into scene getting every vampire's attention. As it fell to its side the sizzle of an intentionally poorly brewed potion was muffled just long enough to activate.
The explosion destroyed the two ghouls instantly and most of the sidewalk. The target managed to get away with only the loss of an arm and a chunk of his torso.
Dudley sprang from the trash unleashing rounds from his Enfield. Each bullet taking another chunk out of his target. Dudley walked forward as the gun finally clicked showing its emptiness. The face of Arnold Leven melted away as a gaunt face with sharp yellow eyes and fanged lips hissed at Dudley.
"You don't know what you're doing boy. Powers beyond you are at work." The thing hissed.
Dudley just raised his stake. "I'll deal with them later."
The creature lunged. But Dudley was quicker, putting all his weight into it, stabbing down into its heart with his white oak.
The target froze mid swipe Dudley stepped back as the corpse of his target fell, then caught blue flame. It burned brightly until the flame started to swirl around Dudley. He nearly shrieked when the flames dove for him. Until they were sucked into the pager. Dudley chuckled nervously as everything was confirmed with a beep.
The sound of shattering glass brought back the sounds of the city that Dudley didn't notice had stopped. He looked over to the spot his target was a moment ago. He felt good from it.
Unlike with Denever this kill felt less hollow and bitter. Wasn't he supposed to feel remorse or something? A small rumble in his coat pocket lifted him from his thoughts. Its lime green glow a small comfort.
Good Job! Next Week, Same Time, Same Place.
Dudley shook his head and made the long walk home. This vampire hunter thing was looking pretty good.
Father Cullen walked into an alleyway, the battle that took place minutes earlier was freshly imprinted in the area. Bits of glass from the windows and bullet casing smattered the ground. Some potion was still sizzling through the cobblestones and concrete. And a syringe's worth of vampire dust laying about. Noteworthy. He'd take it for later there's always a buyer mundane or magical.
His cross heated up a bit, right the real reason he was here. The brief hint of magic, the scent of a flower, it got stronger. This was good, it meant progress. Like a ripening fruit Harry Potter must be cultivated and plucked out at his peak. It was the only way the ritual would work.
The protections from his mother was the thing leading all the danger to him. Lily Potter: brilliant, but a naive fool.
Father Cullen stiffened, the feeling of a chilled breeze, with a hint of grease. He'd have to be weary of this one, too smart for his own good.
"Ah Severus, a delightful surprise."
Snape stepped out of the shadows cloak billowing in the frosty air, wand out with ice crystals already forming at the tip.
"Charmed."
"Did you just come back from your normal heathenous activities or just the special Death Eater ones." Cullen turned to take a good look at him. The years had been kind to Severus.
"Fishing for information this early?" Snape sneered. "You've gotten desperate."
"Some of us have to work for our daily bread, we can't all suckle at the teat of an Albus Dumbledore."
"You're a priest are you not, surely you could just pray to your God for food?"
Cullen laughed "I did once, and here I am." He finished with a flourish.
"Standing in a dilapidated alleyway, chasing after a child, while you do a balancing act between masters like a special breed of whore. Yes, I'm sure God had very big plans for you."
"Aren't you doing the same? Or is this colored by personal reasons." Cullen parried. The air in the alley got sharp. Snape's wand never slacked for an instant. The cold concentrated on them.
"Stay away from Harry Potter." Curt and no nonsense.
Cullen waived him off. "I take it back, we aren't the same." He made his way back onto the bright neon of London streets. "You don't even mind when your strings are being pulled anymore."
Severus didn't let lose his stored spell, he didn't want to give any evidence of his being there. The Ministry would definitely notice the shattering of the unregistered spacial enchantments these vampires liked to throw around. They'd send some spare bastard here at some point and he didn't want to get involved.
Heading back into his shadow he was blessed with the popping sound of one such investigator. "Harry Potter, by order of the Ministry come out with your wand at your side!"
Snape couldn't even manage a sigh. "Dunderheads the lot." Disapparating with a more quiet sound.
The official didn't notice, he was too busy reaching for the communicator gem on his collar. "Subject is resisting arrest requesting Auror assistance. I repeat, requesting Auror assistance."
Much time had passed since Harry first made it to the forest. Quickly he fell into a routine. Every morning he would make a run to the creek to collect water for the day and rocks for washing.
Then he would then spend time till noon hunting or fishing. He would cook half for lunch, saving the rest to stew in a magic forged clay pot for dinner or smoke them to preserve it for the next few days. His time slaving over a stove making breakfast or helping Petunia with the big dinners was paying dividends.
His afternoon spent working on building projects for his base or categorizing local magical flora. He left nights for working on magic. With plenty of visits to the Skull Caves.
Today was a light day.
So currently Harry was in the top level of his tree tower having finished hollowing it out a few days ago. He'd gotten the idea from watching a few grubs worm their way through wood. A few nights later he'd created the spell. Then he started working, planning out floor by floor. It took months of work and even with magic Harry had to work out the finer details by hand.
Seven layers, because why not, and a basement with each layer being about the size of a one bedroom/one bath apartment with a fifteen foot ceiling. All connected together with a spiral staircase and a rope ladder fire escape just in case.
Starting with the kitchen in the basement to carry heat through the the first two floors being a general workshop and hobby room respectively so Harry could carry material indoors with no hassle. Floors three and four were a bathroom and bedroom, with large windows for natural light. The next few floors were a treasure room, a training room and finally the research room. Where Harry was sitting by a window, at his built-in carved desk.
"Okay today, we've got a blue apple looking fruit" Harry listed out. Writing down with a piece of charcoal and a thin strip of bark soaked in water to soften it up.
"Discovery #275." Harry wrote out loud.
Looking it all over with his Mage Sight had confirmed that it wasn't poisonous to the touch but Harry would have to test them the mundane way to see if they were safe to eat. Taking a sliver off of the fruit with a clay knife, Harry poked and prodded. Writing down everything.
"Subject is apple-like throughout, no strong smell." He took a bite. Chewing slowly, getting a strong wintergreen flavor.
"Minty, refreshing." Harry blew out a whistle that froze over his desk. "Definitely useful." Harry dropped a slice of it into a mug of water. Flash freezing it to a mug shaped block of ice. "Too useful, possibly."
He cleaned up his desk and made a note to see how long the mug would stay frozen. A warm breeze swept through from the window. Harry looked out to the forest below and decided to take a walk. Sliding down his spiral staircase he made it to his bottom floor. He grabbed his satchel at the door.
"Marigold! Lavender! We're heading out!" Harry, getting lonely one day, made two little pixie-esk creatures out of the handful of flowers he'd picked his first day, very handy for menial tasks, not the best of conversational partners as he'd hoped.
They both floated towards him as he opened his door to the morning sun. The clearing looked much nicer these days. The small fire pit had been converted to a kiln and an occasional smoker. It was a bad habit. Harry now, where only moss had existed, had a small garden filled with wild berries and vegetables of both the mundane and magical variety he found. And a sizable plot of flowers. Mostly for all the bees his damn rings kept attracting. He'd have to get an established apiary soon, at least the free honey was good.
Harry didn't have to worry much about anything coming through his front garden so he didn't wall it off. It would have felt wrong anyway.
"You know the drill, at the first sign of trouble you two will come back, alright?" Both the flower pixies nodded and each took a perch on Harry's shoulders.
"Onward to adventure!" The pixies cheered along as Harry headed off into the woods.
Down the small mossy cliff, past the Wintered Apple grove, he took a few for the trip. Across the grub filled fallen trees and the mushroom farm, Harry made it to the creek. A sort of barrier to what he considered his turf. He had all of the spotted meadows and a good portion of the woods to himself, so he never ventured beyond. Until today that is.
The sense of adventure in him went spare at the idea, but the Harry molded by his formative years gave him a foreboding feeling. Caution got Harry here, but so did taking risks. Approaching the clay banks of the creek, Harry rolled up his trousers and waded through.
"Hello." He jumped and looked around. Marigold and Lavender pulled down on his sleeves gesturing to the water. He slowly panned down towards the creek and found a face in the water.
"Um, hello." Harry called out more timidly then usual. The first real conversation in months definitely was nerve racking.
"Do not be afraid, I watch you collect from me every day and wanted to introduce myself." A shy squeaky voice called out.
Harry paled. "I'm terribly sorry, I'll stop right away." Eating a sapient was a big no-no on the morality scale as far as Harry knew. But was it cannibalism to drink some one? He thought of the vampires and concluded with a resounding absolutely.
He'd have to find a new source somehow. Maybe a well? No, probably the same source. Is there a groundwater spirit? His first conversation in a year and he blew it. The water spirit halted him.
"Think nothing of it. To sustain life is a great purpose. One I am happy to fill." A few smoothed river stones floated together to create a smile.
"Err thank you for keeping me alive then … sorry I don't have your name."
"Oh, my name is-" The water spirit made the sound of a rock being skipped across four times with a few fish splashes mixed in.
"I don't think I'll be able to pronounce that?" Harry deadpanned, a little confused. The water churned murky as if in thought.
"That's fine." It eventually decided. "But what do I call you all?"
"This is Lavender and Marigold." Both pixies waved politely. "And I'm just Harry." He said with his hand outstretched. The now named creek floated a small bit of driftwood to make a perplexed raised eyebrow.
Harry felt like an idiot.
Until the water grabbed onto his hand and before him formed into a clear version of himself , with sand hair and clay eyes. Pulling itself up to meet Harry eye to eye.
"Just Harry hmm." The water Harry splashed around him. "I can appreciate that." Water Harry giggled. Harry was put out, he didn't giggle damn it.
"And why's that." He responded a bit hotly.
"It proves you know who you are." Harry looked a bit confused. "Like my water must flow to fill your pots it never stops being water. Flexible to fill the role needed but never forgets who it is. I admire that in a hero." The clear Harry finished.
"I'm definitely not a hero, I'm more of a scholar, an adventurer at best." Harry backpedaled.
"Nonsense, you hold yourself like a stormcloud, with less arrogance, very refreshing." It waved off.
Harry was going to ask, but if there were talking creeks there might as well be toff stormclouds, what's next "nonce trees"?
"A hero must take many jobs, but if you are just after knowledge, I will part with some. If you grant me a favor."
Harry took the bait. "What do you have in mind?" The water spirit clapped with joy.
"I've been noticing, along with other strange instances, someone has been diverting my flow a ways downstream, this happens every few thousand cycles, but I normally meet back up with my sisters at the lake at some point. Now I can barely sense myself past the divergence. It is most unpleasant." The water of the doppelganger got murky.
"I humbly request that you go search for the reason for this disturbance. Do you accept?"
"Of course it's the least I could do for your help." Harry and Harry two, also, stood there for a minute.
"Oh, quite right, I accept." The words leaving him carried a magical weight.
"Perfect, I have a gift for your travels." A small lily pad floated up to Harry's shins. The size of a hockey puck, with a delicate looking white flower on top. Marigold and Lavender immediately jumped in and started mimicking Steamboat Willie and pulling an imaginary horn respectively.
"A tight squeeze, is it? I take it there's a password to make it grow?" The spirit nodded and sprinkled some water on the petals. It grew to the size of a rowboat. More than enough room for Harry to move his legs.
"Simply take the water off the lily and it will revert back. It's a smart one, so it knows how big it needs to be. Travel safely, come back in one piece.
"I'll do my best." He promised as he placed a careful first step on to the lily pad.
Settling in, he turned and waved as the spirit guided the makeshift vessel with a noticeable amount of force. The waves pushing him swiftly down the creek. Harry laughed gleefully as the lily pad serpentined like a speedboat. Kicking up plenty of aquatic life in the wake. Lavender and Marigold held on to his worn t-shirt for dear life.
After a few minutes of travel Harry learned how to steer rudimentarily. And the joyride ended, but as they got further down the river their speed was greatly reduced. Harry guessed that they were getting closer to the goal. He decided that a more measured approach was necessary.
He carefully moored the lily pad onto a suitable part of the bank. Flicking the water off the lily, Harry took the now shrunken boat and safely stuck it in his pocket. He turned his attention to the task ahead. It looked daunting.
The trees lost some of their familiarity, the sounds from them foreign, and the taste of the air was just wrong. Harry nodded towards the pixies, with affirmation from both they split off to search. The pixies naturally did an excellent job of disappearing into the foliage. Harry sat down on the bank and got into his pose, focusing on the potential trials ahead.
Marigold was excited, her creator had given her and her sister an important task, the first of many. Hopefully.
She knew they were made to be friends with their creator to stave off his loneliness. Very hard when neither of them could talk. So they tried to be useful in other ways, like helping tend the garden or searching for interesting plants and materials. She would fulfill this new task with gusto. She tapped her sister to get going as they both split apart.
Lavender was a little more gloomy of the two. She wasn't very active and often hid a little ways behind Marigold, but she was a silent and more importantly subtle helper. Very useful for certain activities. She cared for her creator, but she often found herself annoyed at Marigold's exuberance.
Marigold muted her colors and scouted ahead. Doing her best to not rustle the leaves too much, Lavender was much better at this sneaking around stuff, but she would do her best anyway. It's what her creator deserved.
She felt a tendril of her creator's magic near her, radiating excitement and some concern, she allowed the connection and felt his presence in her head, trying his best to be as unobtrusive and gentle as possible. They looked around together. Eventually finding the signs of travelers.
Tracks leading to and from the banks of the creek and the nearby treeline. Marigold floated down to get a better look. Somewhat large, at least larger than her creator, with clawed features. A beast perhaps? Her creator's thoughts rang through her head and melded a bit with her own. The mud was leveled differently from the front of the track to the back, was it bipedal?
An interesting idea, her creator had seen the remnants of something intelligent in the Skull Caves, but no sign of it in his many forays into the Spotted Fields. Had something been hiding in the forest the whole time? She and Lavender would have definitely known or seen some signs.
Looking back to the tracks, Marigold herself made the observation of what looked like something being dragged along the way. Something heavy enough to stop and lift, then stop and drag interchangeably. It was done in a hurry. Her creator thanked her and asked her to come back, when a sharp feeling of surprise and dread came through the link.
Lavender had found something.
Lavender wasn't having the best of time. She felt a bit of foreboding hanging around the forest. And as she was definitely the more squeamish of the two sisters, she proceeded with some caution.
She floated around for a bit but found nothing that would help her creator on his quest. With the sun barely showing through the tightly-knit trees, only small rays of light coming through the canopy, she decided to get a higher vantage point.
Quickly flying through the spotlight made by the canopy she was slightly surprised to find beauty this far up in the forest. After taking a moment to enjoy the scenery she started her search again.
Catching some smoke up ahead she decided to communicate to Harry. Getting his confirmation and a pulse of magic telling her to use caution, she followed the smoke to its origin. She made a face as she found a scene that would, if she had one, have made her stomach churn.
A rare grassy clearing in the forest, that looked more like a battlefield than anything else she had seen in their time exploring. Gouges and fresh blood spots peppered the ground. Destroyed trees, snapped in half and several fires setting the rest ablaze. In the center were various beings and beasts being carted away in chains by two-legged hyenas.
As some tried to fight and were slaughtered by their assailants, others were carried off. The dog men with their captives sunk into the trees themselves as if the bark was made of water. Taking them to who knows where. She began to creep closer stealthily. Trying to find any helpful clues on who these beings were and why they would raid. Surely there was plenty of food elsewhere. This clearing was just a home. A ping from Harry told her that it was time to come back.
But as she made her way down, she didn't see the claw that grabbed her.
"Hey there, pretty flower. I wonder how you taste?" Lavender turned her head around to see one of the furry figures with hungry blue eyes. Its elongated crooked snout had several of its yellowed teeth poking through.
"Boss man said everyone was to be used for ritual, but surely a scrumptious little tiny morsel like you wouldn't be missed. No? Draampa thinks so." He cackled.
Lavender bit his hand, then wiggled out of his furred grip as the walking wolf yelped in pain. She darted back into the foliage. The dog man trampled through right after her. Trying her best to shake him off, she flew in between the trees. Only for the dog man to go through them with little effort.
She felt the displaced air from bites nipping at her back, the thumping of her pursuser's digitigrades on the forest floor. The dog man howled, immersing himself in the hunt. She banked left into a group of bushes doing her best to notify Harry via their link. The dog man sniffed around.
"A shame, easy to pick out. Like a sweet perfume this far in our parts of the forest." He growled in glee. Lavender scooted deeper into her hiding spot. A single blue eye of the dog man shown through the leaves.
"I'm afraid our game is over." He grabbed her again mindful of any teeth. Lavender shut her eyes tightly.
He began to bite down, but was stopped by a glob of clay restraining him by his throat. He reached for it trying his best to scrape the clay off while dodging out of the way of a pair of arrows. Searching around for his interrupter he was greeted with arrows gaining purchase in his shoulder. He tried to remove one but it shattered once it was touched.
"Pottery?"
The sound of displaced air followed behind him.
"Potter."
Harry let loose a volley of hardened clay arrows, the dogman scrambled out of the way swiping away any arrows that he could. Harry rapidly blinked across the trees, the only sound being a slight shift in the branches, pinning the dog man down by his patchworked leather armor.
"I didn't expect to find gnolls here of all places." Harry stepped out of his cover, green eyes glowing with magic. Vengeance on his mind.
Harry's lessons from Ollivander had mentioned all manor of races that wizards had come across in their travels across the realms. Gnolls were some of the vilest and their natural penchant for wanderlust turned most of them into a band of inter-planar brigands.
"Where meat and plunder are plenty, a gnoll carves his slice. Surely you know wand waver your people do the same." The gnoll tried to backpedal towards the trees slowly loosening his restraints.
Harry scooped up another bit of clay from his satchel, sending it to float in front of him and the gnoll before twisting into shape.
"Why are you here?" He calmly asked while his arrow glowed bright orange flash hardening into form. The gnoll gave a hyena laugh.
"Find out wand waver." The gnoll let loose a retch of dark noxious gas. Harry jumped back out of the way sending his arrow straight into what he thought would be the gnoll's chest. A thunk echoed through the fog. As it dissipated Harry cursed at finding the arrow embedded in a tree bloodless. He waited for a few moments for an ambush, when none came he rushed back to his pixies.
He appeared a few feet from their location, as to not startle them and give them time to recognize him. He found that Marigold was doing her best to console Lavender. Once Lavender felt his presence she scurried her way towards Harry's arms visibly upset. Harry did his best to calm her down while looking through her memories. After she calmed down a tad he spoke.
"That settles it, no more scouting for a while." Harry gave both of them a no nonsense look, emulating his best Aunt Petunia. Marigold pantomimed a protest but Harry was having none of it.
"Until the gnoll threat is gone, that's how it has to be." Marigold huffed while Lavender got gloomy.
"No, it's not your fault and Marigold don't blame her; she had no control over it. Once we're back on the other side of the woods, you two can explore on your own. Till then stay close." Marigold still put out, turned into her earring form after a glance at Lavender.
Lavender looked back at Harry once more. "Don't worry I'll be alright." He gestured towards his satchel. Lavender gave a small smile and morphed into her earring form as well leaving Harry alone with questions. As he put both pixies on his left earlobe, Harry made to see the carnage first hand.
Popping out into the clearing, the stench of death was the first thing he felt. Smoke from long burning fires darkened the area. Trails of viscera and tracks led to the opposite treeline, then disappeared. Only traces of the gnolls and their atrocities left. He circled around it prodding every so often. He didn't find any runes or signs of rituals, strange.
Gnolls weren't often supposed to be wielders of magic, especially ones pertaining to nature. Gnolls, in corrupting themselves to survive their crude dimensional travel, wouldn't be able to use any magic that didn't leave a trace. The feeling of wrongness in the rest of the forest was proof of that.
He couldn't meditate on it given the hostility of the area, so he was stuck with doing things the old fashion way. But with no leads and an impressive bit of forest to scour, most likely filled with gnolls and gnoll ambushes, Harry was stumped. There had to be something else.
A rumble from his left told him to duck. He rolled out of the way just in time to see the tree fall in on itself. Another rumble told Harry to quickly side step.
He then blinked to the upper branches to see what he was facing.
A hulking figure stalked towards him, the face of a snowy great horned owl, burning orange eyes sunken in with grey plumage rings. Large feathery eyebrows putting a permanent scowl on its face. Its body was shaped like a bear with several grey and white feathers instead of fur. An obsidian beak and claws with the dried blood of a previous battle gleamed in the clearings light.
On all fours it barreled towards Harry, smashing through the tree with ease. Harry flipped down to the ground, landing with great dexterity.
"I'm here to help. Why are you attacking me?" Harry readied himself when the hostility didn't falter at all.
The owlbear didn't answer it just charged again snapping with its beak at Harry's neck. Following it up with a swipe. Harry blinked away to dodge both, but the owlbear didn't let up. Constantly hounding Harry making it impossible to channel his magic into something more effective other than dodging.
Harry tried to weave through a particularly brutal swipe and barely had time to see the follow up. Quickly raising his arm to block, channeling magic to his rings. A faint clear buckler that smelled of fresh dirt sprang forth to protect him, as Harry began to charge up his magic.
The owl bear continued to slice chunks out of the shield. The strength pushing Harry back making furrows into the ground. The rings started to glow a strong gold light, until the shield shattered like glass after a snap from the owlbear's strong beak.
Harry used the distraction to activate the ring on his other hand, the gold glow forming a gauntlet, sending back all the kinetic energy stored up and taken over time in a single punch, kicking up dirt and debris.
Harry made a mental reminder to put his dislocated shoulder back in after this was over. His body wasn't totally immune from the laws of physics, yet.
The owlbear slowly turned its head back to Harry, popping its neck as a few feathers came out from Harry's last attack. Harry sent another kinetic punch releasing earth rattling energy to the owlbear's gut, giving him enough space to let loose his readied spell. A chunk of moss he'd been saving in his pocket disintegrated.
Slamming one hand to the ground Harry thought about his clearing. From the small crater he made, a growth of moss sprang forth like a gush of water wrapping up the owlbear who tried its best to slash out of it but the moss continued to grow until it cocooned around the beast. Trapped and secured Harry let out a deep breath.
His prisoner struggled to find a way out. "Finish me off yourself. I am not afraid to join my brethren, do not hide behind your magics like your vile coward of a master." The owlbear barked out.
Harry was only a little surprised at the hybrid bird speaking. He tried to make his most intimidating face and talked to the beast.
"I'll ask the questions here. Who is disrupting the influence of the creek? Why did you attack me? " Harry spent much of his control trying to keep the moss strengthened. He winced. "And I don't have any master."
"Do not pass off your actions, the living tree is indeed your master, you deny and yet you still use its magics as your own." The owlbear's neck made a motion towards it's temporary prison. Harry was confused, but it seemed like a clue to figure out the root of this problem.
"Hypothetically speaking, let's say I don't know who this "living tree" is. Where would I find them?" Harry guessed that the owlbear and the living tree had some history given it's intense dislike of Harry being even remotely similar.
"I will not fall for your tricks." The owlbear screeched. "You and your master's kind cannot be trusted. Your powers are unnatural."
Harry deadpanned, "You're a hybrid bear, owl thing! There is nothing "natural" about you!" Harry added the air quotes.
"I'm more natural than a wingless hairless ape." The owlbear scoffed. "Were you kicked out of your pack or abandoned at birth?" Harry tightened the moss a tad.
The owlbear grunted, then was surprised to find it was let go.
Harry turned to the clearing ignoring the distrustful look on the owlbear's face. It growled.
"And what makes you think I'll just let you go?" Harry still didn't turn back around. He just kept going.
"You're going the wrong way." Harry stopped, did an about face and continued to march on, a smile never leaving as he made his way towards the mountains in the distance.
"Idiot."
Harry and his new companion followed the creek up towards the mountainous regions. The sun began to dip towards the Spotted Plains. Harry tried to make some report, but…
"You are quite yappy, is this an ape thing or is it a particularly annoying wingless hairless ape thing?"
"Small talk is a useful skill and much appreciated by the civilized." Harry responded with a nod as if he said something profound.
"Then how would you know how to use it, hmm?" The owlbear chastised.
"It's been awhile since I've had a real conversation, alright." Harry was surprised that he hadn't gone mad being alone in the portal realms this long with so little social interaction. To be fair he did randomly go off on a quest given to him by a magic water being. Maybe he was starved for attention?
"Hairless Wingless Ape, try to keep up. Stop daydreaming and start moving. We must make haste before the living tree's servants find us."
"My name's Harry." He insisted.
The owl looked him over. "I do not see it."
"Well what's your fitting name, go on then, let's hear it." Harry prodded.
"Our clan decides our name, I do not have either anymore. The living tree has them." The owlbear whispered.
The conversation stopped for a few minutes, before Harry spoke again.
"You don't have to be afraid to ask for help, or to help someone."
"You don't understand the damage and death that monster has caused, The gnolls are the latest of many atrocities. They will pay for the crimes done, by my claws, not by magic." The owl bear growled challenging.
Harry didn't back down. "You sound like an idiot I know." The feathers on its neck rose hackeled.
"Don't hide behind your revenge or your grief." Harry finished. Their stare down was starting to make Marigold and Lavender nervous.
The owlbear sidestepped and moved on. "We shall nest here." It waved its paw in the general area then extended its claws to climb into a sturdy tree. Curling up in a thick branch the owlbear left Harry to his own devices. Something he was more than used to.
"I guess it's first watch for me."
He motioned for them and his two flower pixies sprang forth, both worrying over him for a moment before he waved them off as they prepared to make a fire.
Lavender wandered a little too close to the owlbear's branch and nearly was cut in half by a snap from its beak. Marigold went to confront the beast but Harry swiftly ended it with a shake of the head.
The three went to collect firewood, with Harry keeping the both of them in his sight letting out a bit of magic to start the flames. Once a nice camp was established Harry got comfortable for his night watch shift. He went back and sorted his satchel for the tenth time tonight.
Not much to do when you're the only one that cares enough to do a night watch.
A beast hybrid of two nocturnal animals goes to sleep as soon as the sun goes down?
Magic, not even once.
Speaking of he'd need to remember to get new components for the next day, he thought that it would be difficult considering the negative feeling of ambient magic surrounding this part of the forest. Not something he was willing to test out. He started to yawn, but Harry slapped his face and mentally steeled himself. He'd be in it for the long haul. Figuring out a way to keep his mind active, Harry stared at the fire as the world started to dim.
The unease had grown once the sun had completely set. The thick miasma of the day had permeated heavier now in the air. The fire flickered, low to embers, only a few twigs left to curb its hunger. Harry was starting to feel the effects of a full day's hike and his substantial magic use.
The forest was unusually quiet this night. Only the soft rhythmic breathing of his owl bear friend? Ally? Associate? Yeah, associate is probably the best word. Only the soft rhythmic breathing of his owl bear associate broke through the nothing around him.
The thicket of trees blocked the two moons that Harry was just starting to get used to.
The shadows made spread far off from his his vision. Leaves and trees of the forest, the bark, the rocks, the roots all blended together in a sea of black indistinguishable from each other in the dark as they rhythmically breathed in unison. His eyes drooped a little.
Then a sharp smell rose him from drowsiness. The scent of magic. It cut through his daze with a quickness. His magic hummed inside him with anticipation. The fire was snuffed out but he still felt warmth. The only beacon of familiarity in the dark.
Something was there. And it wanted him to know.
"Mage Sight"
He found an eye staring back at him, an orange and lime green affair. Glowing teal tears trailing down. One became several as a chilling voice sprang forth from the mass of eyes.
"My last ingredient." A voice rumbled like roots carving through soil.
"Come boy, come to me." A gnarled hand-like branch quickly snatched his leg and dragged him towards the deep of the forest.
Harry gasped, frantically looking around. The fire was still burning cheerfully, at his side Marigold and Lavender were snuggling into his tattered shirt, snoring. The forest, nowhere near as dark.
The owl bear moved towards him, they shared a look, before it continued on its way to the other side of the campfire. "They are lucky," The owl bear moved its neck slightly at the two pixies.
"They do not have to worry about the visions." Harry's face twitched and the owl bear noticed. "The living tree is a hunter first and a Sorcerer second. They strike when you are weak. Where you are weak."
"Sleepless nights? For how long?" Harry's voice almost betrayed him by cracking.
"Since they came apparently. I have only known stories, my people are traditionally from the mountains."
Harry suspected there was more to that but wouldn't pry into the owl bear's secrets unless they were freely shared.
"Tell me more about the living tree." A determined look over his face. The owl bear preened.
Then laid down shaking its head.
"The story begins some time ago…"
Chapter 4 April Showers