CHAPTER 20: JOURNEY
Harry pivoted, his wand dancing through the air, dismantling a nearby rock golem that dared to encroach upon him. His frustration simmered within, a result of his recent visit to Diagon Alley in preparation for the impending summer. What awaited him there? News of their new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, an individual he deemed nothing short of an imbecile. The proof lay within the pages of the textbooks, filled with spells that even Harry himself found challenging.
"Fool!" Harry exclaimed, channeling his anger into a powerful spell that obliterated the torso, leaving only the disintegrating legs and arms in its wake.
As the golems crumbled, the rocky remnants decayed gradually, transforming into a cascade of fine white sand. The granules spiraled in the air, gradually darkening as they absorbed moisture, reshaping themselves into grotesque figures. One-legged creatures emerged, their limbs uneven, and a misshapen hand extended toward Harry, accompanied by a face caught in a silent scream.
A subtle smirk played on Harry's lips as his mind delved into a mental inventory of spells, seeking those capable of dispatching the malformed entities.
As the battle against the magical monstrosities continued, Harry's wand movements became more fluid, his incantations more precise. The disfigured creatures, a product of transmuted rock, seemed relentless, but so did Harry's determination to master the challenges that awaited him, whether in the classroom or the unpredictable landscapes of his magical journey.
"Deffindo," Harry intoned, his wand slashing through the air. The closest monster's head twisted to the side, almost inquisitively, as its crusty wet sand skin was peeled back. Thin, dry sand flowed away, revealing wet sand meticulously molded into intricate organs like hearts and lungs. The macabre display only fueled Harry's curiosity.
"Now it's getting interesting," he mused.
"Orchideus," Harry commanded. Large, vibrant flowers erupted from another creature's body. Frantically, it clawed at its own skin as the plants voraciously absorbed the necessary water, causing it to crumple onto the ground, reduced to a heap of tiny pebbles.
The remaining four creatures observed, blinking in an almost synchronized manner, before charging suddenly. Harry, undeterred, smirked.
"Scindo," he declared, his laughter resonating through the air. The outer layer of sand was peeled away, dropping uselessly, revealing the dry sand and intricately shaped sand-organs in a pile. The three others looked on, now slightly wary.
"Siccus," Harry uttered. The monster on the left trembled, screeching as it dissolved into a crumbling mass. It clawed at the air, gagging on nothing, before dissipating entirely.
The two remaining creatures now looked genuinely terrified. They turned, circling around the amused Harry. A strange wet slopping noise emanated from one, its hand curling into a long sand scythe, while the other transformed into a formidable sand sword.
Harry, though surrounded, maintained a composed expression. "I must say, your creativity in weaponry is truly commendable. Let's see how you fare against this."
"Ventus Tornado!" he exclaimed, creating a whirlwind of air that swept through the creatures, scattering their sand forms. They reeled, attempting to reform, but Harry wasn't finished.
"Comburo!" he added, igniting the swirling air with flames, engulfing the sand monsters in a blaze. Their forms contorted and twisted, caught in the dual forces of wind and fire.
As the flames subsided, Harry stood amidst the settling sand, his wand still poised. The once-terrifying creatures now lay scattered and defeated.
The unfolding scenario took on a new layer of amusement. The scythe-wielding creature lunged forward with unexpected swiftness, slashing through the air. Harry reacted swiftly, executing a nimble duck and rolling away just in time to evade a sword blade that nearly grazed his throat.
The two sand-formed adversaries were visibly taken aback, their large sandy eyes fixated on the agile wizard before them.
"Expulsio!" Harry exclaimed. The creature with the sword was forcefully thrown backward as an explosion erupted, shattering its sandy form. A fine sprinkling of sand covered the scythe-wielding counterpart and the ground, creating an unsettling spectacle that, if mistaken for blood, could induce a wave of nausea in onlookers.
Harry, undeterred by the grisly aftermath, rose from his crouched position. He surveyed the now-disoriented scythe-wielder, who struggled to reform after the explosive impact.
"Your moves are impressive, but let's see how you handle this," Harry remarked with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"Reducto!" he incanted, directing a focused burst of magical energy toward the disoriented adversary. The spell hit its mark, causing the sandy figure to explode into even finer particles, dispersing in the air like a dissipating sandstorm.
The battlefield now lay still, with only the settling sand marking the aftermath of the skirmish.
Harry nodded appreciatively, realizing that each encounter, no matter how seemingly trivial, held lessons that could only be learned through experience. As the sandy residue slowly dispersed, the echoes of magical combat lingered, leaving Harry with a heightened sense of readiness for the magical world that awaited him beyond the sandy battlefield.
In the midst of their circling, Harry spoke an incantation with a confident tone.
"Transmogrifian."
The creature crumpled, its form convulsing as invisible hands seemed to materialize, mercilessly pummeling and contorting its sandy skin. It writhed in pain, pulled into unnatural positions against its will. After a few intense minutes, the sand unraveled, leaving the once-menacing creatures lifeless, their forms returning to their original state as if the confrontation had never begun.
Harry, his wand now lowered, turned away from the training room, a faint satisfaction etched on his face. The encounter had served its purpose, a practical exercise in the application of magic against formidable adversaries.
A voice interrupted his departure, piquing his curiosity. "Oh? What is this?"
"Practicing Coilis," Harry replied, sparing a moment to glance at the black viper named Coilis. The serpent's red eyes betrayed a hidden interest, a fascination with the unique abilities wizards could wield, surpassing even the inherent powers of the 'great race'.
Harry spun around, his frustration evident as he sent a deep and dark cut across the wall. He was slightly angered by the fact that it wouldn't bleed, the limitations of the magical realm dampening the visceral impact he sought.
As Coilis observed, his serpentine gaze revealing a sense of both intrigue and admiration, Harry pondered the untapped potential that lay within the magical world. The encounter in the training room was just a glimpse of the challenges and discoveries that awaited him, a wizard navigating the intricate intersections of power, skill, and the enigmatic forces that permeated the realm of magic.
"Why are you practicing, master?" Coilis inquired with a hiss, his red eyes fixed on Harry.
"The new teacher is a phony. I'll need to practice as much as I can now and learn all that is needed for the year there," Harry replied, his determination evident in his voice.
"A... phony?" Coilis repeated, tilting his head and testing the unfamiliar word on his long, forked tongue.
"A copy, a fake. He claims to do amazing tasks that only a great viper like yourself could do, while he is a mere grass snake," Harry explained, using what he and his father had declared as 'snake language' to facilitate better communication with the serpentine creatures.
"Why not find a hidden den to use the magiks?" Coilis suggested, his hiss carrying a note of curiosity.
"Dumbledore has control of the entire castle. Not a single ghost, portrait, statue, or suit of armor is able to betray him. We would be discovered, Coilis. Nowhere is safe," Harry replied with a sense of resignation.
Coilis rested his head on the floor, watching in boredom as Harry unleashed various black and grey curses at the wall, summoning monsters and beings into existence.
"Why can't the dungeons be a practice room?" Coilis questioned, his eyes fixated on Harry.
Harry spun around, swiftly slicing off the head of a tar-bodied ghoul. He shot a disbelieving look at the black snake, mildly annoyed that he was interrupted during such a perilous exercise.
"Could you give me some warning next time, Coilis?"
"Answer the question, master," Coilis insisted, his red eyes gleaming with determination.
Harry rolled his eyes but contemplated the question silently, methodically decapitating another ghoul as he mulled it over.
"No, that still wouldn't work. A few portraits are down there; some are even wired to report to the headmaster at the slightest glance of something. Our only hope would be secret passages leading to chambers."
"But master, you can speak the noble tongue. If the great Salazar made this stone den, wouldn't he set aside tunnels within the den for the noble tongue?" Coilis suggested, his red eyes fixed on Harry.
Harry stalled, turning with a thoughtful look on his face. He sighed and sat down next to the snake, gently stroking its fine scales.
"Tunnels, you think that there may be hidden tunnels throughout the Slytherin common rooms?"
"The great Salazar was feared by many. He would want his hatchlings to live without fear. Wouldn't he set up a number of passages for safety?"
"But Coilis, nobody has ever heard of something like this."
"Ah, but wouldn't it be triggered by one speaking the noble tongue?" Coilis posited, his serpent logic offering a new perspective.
Harry's eyes widened, the realization slowly sinking in. "Speaking the noble tongue... it could be the key. If Salazar Slytherin indeed designed these passages, it would make sense that they respond to the language of his lineage."
Coilis hissed in agreement, sensing that Harry was onto something significant. Together, they contemplated the potential hidden network of tunnels beneath the Slytherin common rooms, tunnels designed to be revealed only to those who spoke the noble tongue. The prospect of unearthing secrets long-buried within Hogwarts added a new layer of intrigue to Harry's quest for knowledge and mastery of magic.
Harry frowned and picked up Coilis, allowing the snake to coil around his arms and neck. With purposeful steps, he turned, walking at a fast pace towards his room. He skillfully used the shadows to ensure that no one was nearby or willing to walk past him.
"That is an interesting idea, Coilis; we would have to speak to Father about that."
"That is well, your father requested us to join the hunting," Coilis informed.
Harry spun, looking down at the black snake with even more disbelief. Coilis purposely stuck his tongue out slightly more and flicked the tip of Harry's nose, much to his annoyance.
"Father requested us to come to dinner... tonight."
"Nagini passed the message for the hunting earlier."
"And you didn't pass the message to me?"
"Aye, it is fun to prickle your scales," Coilis gleefully announced, sliding down towards the flat rock near the fireplace.
Harry sighed, a mix of exasperation and amusement on his face. The complexities of communication with snakes, especially one as mischievous as Coilis, added an unexpected twist to his day. As they headed towards the dinner gathering, Harry couldn't help but appreciate the unique camaraderie he shared with his serpentine companion. The path to unraveling the mysteries of Hogwarts and mastering magic became even more intriguing with the company of Coilis, a creature both wise and delightfully unpredictable.
Harry shook his head, sighing as he walked towards his room to change and wash up.
"Nagini said not to wear the cloak!" Coilis called, but his words fell on a shut door as his response. Undeterred, Harry continued his preparations.
Only ten minutes later, Harry and Coilis moved swiftly towards the great dining hall. Harry, now clad in thick dragon-hide boots, acromantula silk tinted a deep black for his pants and shirt, donned an even darker cloak with a silver trim and a lighter black clasp in the shape of Coilis. Taking a deep breath and coaxing Coilis to coil tighter, Harry opened the door. It swung slowly and loudly open.
The table within was long, only fitting the select few from the inner circle. The seating arrangement was meticulously organized in the order of loyalty, and a single seat remained unoccupied on the first right from the head. Harry moved forward silently and slowly, keeping his head bowed slightly, aware that the occupants of the table were watching.
The air in the room shifted as Harry entered, an unspoken acknowledgment of his presence. The eyes of those at the table bore into him, evaluating his every move. Coilis, perched on Harry's shoulders, observed the gathering with a serene intensity, the silver trim of the cloak glinting in the dim light.
As Harry approached the vacant seat, the atmosphere in the room became charged with an undercurrent of anticipation. The rituals of the inner circle held a gravity of their own, and Harry, with Coilis by his side, braced himself for the interactions and revelations that awaited him at the table of loyalty.
Harry looked up slightly, catching an almost invisible smirk from his father, who beckoned to the seat on his right. Following the unspoken cue, Harry pulled the chair out and silently sat down. Coilis uncoiled slightly, his red eyes fixed on the people at the table, but he remained enshrouded in the dark cloak, his tongue flicking out as he observed.
"Ah, we're all here," Harry's father started, gesturing with his hand to indicate that all the seats had been taken. A few Death Eaters at the very end of the table gasped, as a distinct hissing sound reached Harry's ears.
Nagini gracefully slithered into the room, showcasing the long, sleek scales covering her back and the piercing, glowing eyes that seemed to miss nothing.
"Greetings, master. Greetings, Shadow. I see Coilis sent my message," she hissed with a hint of amusement, her tongue flicking out in a manner mirrored by Coilis.
Harry's father acknowledged the presence of the snakes with a nod. "Indeed, Nagini. Now that we are all assembled, let us commence our discussions."
The atmosphere in the room grew more intense as the meeting began, the murmurs of the Death Eaters and the occasional hisses from Coilis and Nagini creating an eerie symphony. Harry, surrounded by the enigmatic figures of the inner circle, prepared himself for the revelations and decisions that would unfold in the clandestine gathering of shadows and whispers.
"With slight hesitation, might I add, the words seemed to just... slip off his tongue?" Harry hissed back. Nagini responded with the equivalent of a snake's smirk and coiled in front of her master, fixating her gaze on the pale Death Eaters.
Lucius Malfoy was seated across from Harry, Bellatrix on his right, and on the opposite side, Severus Snape. The latter seemed to avoid making eye contact with Harry and Nagini, wearing a hood similar to Harry's own. Further down the table were Death Eaters such as Rabastan, Rodulphus, Avery, Glenwig, and many more.
"We are all friends in here; there is no reason for disguises, am I correct?" Voldemort asked, his gaze piercing through the room. Slowly, the Death Eaters began to lower their hoods or dispel charms disguising their features. All eyes turned to Harry, who had yet to reveal his face, accustomed to keeping his features concealed.
"Even you, Shadow," his father hissed, causing Harry to hesitate slightly before slowly lowering his hood.
Severus Snape's eyes widened, some Death Eaters gasped, and one dared to back away. Lucius Malfoy's hand stilled for a moment before moving down to grab the silver cane he held. Harry looked down at the table, refusing to make eye contact with anyone until he heard a slight chuckle from his father. With that encouragement, he lifted his gaze.
"I see you recognize me," Harry stated, his tone simple and cold, a reflection of the way he was raised. A few Death Eaters shivered, but Severus didn't flinch. He met Harry's gaze directly, yet there was no hint of a mind assault.
"For those of you who can't recognize me, by my voice or eyes, I am Shadow," Harry commanded, seeking approval from his father, who responded with a nod.
"Shadow, my son, has been far away on a mission. Recently, he was injured, by Albus Dumbledore. No, he is not dead, just gravely injured," Voldemort announced, causing whispers to sprout up among the Death Eaters.
"Rat! I smell a foolish little rat!" Coilis hissed, glancing at a bored Nagini before darting off, attempting to find his trophy to display.
The revelation of Harry's identity as Shadow and the news of his injury created a ripple of reactions among the inner circle. Whispers and exchanged glances revealed the mix of surprise and curiosity that lingered in the room. Harry, now unveiled, observed the reactions of those around him with a carefully concealed expression, his gaze fixed on the proceedings as the clandestine gathering unfolded.
Harry scanned the silent room, his gaze lingering on Severus, who appeared to have a question in his mind. Harry nearly smiled at the intricate workings of this wizard's mind.
"Poison," he stated calmly, breaking the silence and stunning Snape, who had no idea what the young wizard was talking about.
"Brilliant actually, logic instead of magic. Tell me this, Severus, how many wizards died with that trick?" Harry asked, maintaining his calm demeanor and keeping tabs on Coilis, who seemed to be in pursuit of a rat missing a toe. The rat squeaked and darted under Severus' chair, prompting Coilis to dive after it.
Severus' eyes widened as he comprehended what Harry was talking about. "You went after the stone," he stated. Harry gave a curt nod. A few who had read the Prophet knew precisely what these two were discussing, while others remained clueless but wisely refrained from interrupting the exchange. The air in the room held a sense of tension, each word exchanged revealing a layer of the intricate web of secrecy that bound these individuals together.
"That's the tale of your injury," he murmured, his words shrouded in an enigmatic air. Harry observed as his gaze momentarily flitted towards the scar etched on his face before swiftly returning.
"Indeed, it was," Severus replied, his lips caught between his teeth, wrestling with conflicting emotions about the forthcoming inquiry. Harry's eyes dropped slightly, a faint frown creasing his forehead. The rat, sensing impending danger, quivered near the arm of the chair. Meanwhile, Coilis slithered up slowly, a silent and perilous dance. Unbeknownst to Severus, a miniature hunt unfolded at arm's length.
"How is it that you persist in living?" Severus finally ventured, carefully selecting his words to avoid causing offense. Harry blinked languidly, a subtle smile playing at the corners of his lips.
"I'll share the answer in due time. Meanwhile, do refrain from any sudden movements," Harry cautioned, fixing his gaze on Severus. Lucius smirked knowingly, having enjoyed the spectacle of the snake and rat's silent clash. Even his father had noticed, though he opted to remain silent on the matter.
"What-" "Coilis, forsake Wormtail, come," Harry commanded. Coilis halted abruptly before gracefully sliding over Severus' hand and across the table, abandoning the quivering rat.
"The rat is Wormtail, master?" "He is, missing a toe, the left middle one. He's the sole possessor of that peculiar deformity."
Snape's complexion turned pallid, the near-death encounter with the snake leaving him visibly shaken. In contrast, Harry wore a mere smirk, and Voldemort emitted a sinister chuckle. Even Nagini regarded Coilis with an odd expression, one that prompted him to avert his gaze, blushing as much as a snake could.
"As for how I survived? Dark magic. Yet, even in death's grasp, purity remains elusive," Harry declared, his fingers tracing the contours of his scar. He shook his head slightly and met his father's gaze, who wore a satisfied smirk, evidently pleased with the unfolding drama.
"This is meant to be a dinner, is it not?" he remarked softly. At that very moment, a swarm of house-elves hurried in, bearing an assortment of small delicacies and, more notably, large bottles of exquisite wine and rum.
"These were sent by the Greek Elf colony—the epitome of their kind," Voldemort announced, a smirk playing on his lips as he observed the hungry glances of a few present.
'I'll probably regret this,' Harry mused, tentatively accepting a glass and joining in the toast, a ritual mirrored by all, including Nagini and Coilis, who bravely partook.
"To the dark," Bellatrix proclaimed, her words echoed by a few others as everyone downed their first glass.
'This is going to be a protracted night,' Harry concluded, his thoughts laced with a sense of foreboding as the festivities unfolded.
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