Welcome one and all to the latest chapter of The Philosophy of Fear, and boy! Is this one late!
On with the show.
Marunweem Village, October 31st,12:22 am.
The pungent smell of a rotting kill was now thick throughout the village as a nightmare loomed over its shattered remains. Harry and Nymphadora hit the ground with a roll, avoiding the falling sludge of the viscous rot-smelling filth that came from Goll bursting his way forth and onto the battlefield.
"Fuck!" Harry curses in his mind as he and Nymphadora roll to a stop. "Out of all of the Formorians, it had to be fucking Goll!" He screams in his mind as he looks over at the towering beastial monster. He didn't like how the battle had turned with the arrival of Goll. Cathlenn was one thing, but Goll was an entirely different animal. Harry quickly gets back to his feet, takes a step forward, and levels his spear at Goll. "Dora, you need to get Kingsley and get the hell out of here, now!" He snaps to her, gritting his teeth as the Hunt trashes in his mind.
"What the hell are you talking about?" Dora says as she swiftly stands, turning to see the towering figure standing over Cathlenn- almost… protectively to Dora's eyes. It was hunched over, standing on smaller back legs and the knuckles of its large powerful arms. She could see Cathlenn lying on her side and curling in on herself as if she were in pain. "We almost had the other one we can-" Dora starts to argue with Harry, only for the hunter to cut her off.
"No, we can't. There is a difference between Cathlenn and Goll- and that being that Cathlenn is the weakest of them," Harry informs her as Goll turns to look down as the huddled form of Cathlenn, the jagged bone of its snout dipping down and looks to be sniffing her. "Goll is one of the oldest known fears, it's an entirely different monster," he says as he slips his wand into his pocket and redoubles his grip on his spear.
"What the hell does that even-" Dora begins to scream at Harry just before Goll rears its head back and lets out a roar. The hatred and rage rang hollow in the emanating sound that shook the remains of the village, it was a booming and primal sound that buried itself deep into Nymphadora's mind and marrow. Before she even knew what she was doing, Dora was running at a full sprint away from Goll. But Dora wasn't the only one to run, the lesser Formorians that were kept back by the Lynx, Chameleon, and Stag's silver light were also turning tail and fleeing in the wake of Goll's roar. Kingsley too, was fleeing from the fear that seemed into the marrow of his being and against his own will to want to stay and fight.
"Come and get it then!" Harry roars back at Goll; the response to the monster's roar that dug deep into the primal fear of humanity had the opposite effect on the Heir to the Hunt. Harry roars back, not as loud but just as proud and primal as the great fear before him, and in a span of a heartbeat, Goll charges.
The Great Fear was not as lumbering as it looked; it moved with feline grace and serpentine swiftness; before Harry could blink, Goll was on him, his hand crashing down onto him. Goll's hand slams into the earth with a thunderous crash, scattering dirt and stone in every direction, but as it does, the hand and arm attached to it are severed and slashed into equal parts. Harry had danced away from the attack and lashed out with his own, Goll's hide offered little resistance to the blade or the Gaé Bolg as it sent a shower of black sludge over the ground.
Goll didn't roar in pain or anger, his pupilless amber eyes merely followed the silver and red blur that was the Heir to the Hunt. Harry slides to a stop with wand in hand as Goll turns to him, drool and slobber dripping from his open mouth, revealing rows of shark-like teeth. And as he levels his wand at the great fear before him, Harry speaks only two words.
"Let's hunt,"
Fire and stone began to gather from around the village; from broken and burning buildings, they bound themselves together into bubbling molten stone. But Goll paid Harry's spells no heed as he charged him once more, the Heir to the Hunt met the great fear once more in the middle of the charge as his spells continued to twist flame and stone as one. Goll reaches out with his remaining arm, trying to swat or grab Harry, but he ducks and dances out of Goll's reach before planting the blade of his spear into the monster's arm and slicing along it. Harry continues to slash past the armpit of the beast and across his chest before twisting out of the way of Goll's mad trampling hind legs; pulling the spear from the Hunt mad beast.
Harry repositions himself at Goll's flank and prepares himself for a lunge to sever the monster's back leg. But he feels something brush against his senses and his eyes widen before turning his lunge into a block as Goll's powerful tail whips out and catches him in the side, knocking him away. As Harry skids across the earth from the force of the blow, Goll turns and charges once more at Harry. The Heir to the Hunt rolls to a stop on all four, he looks up to come almost face to face with Goll. The Monster's jaw wide open and looking to take a bite out of him, Harry puts his spear in between him and the jaws of Goll and is taken off his feet with the force of the charge. Harry is slammed hard through one of the destroyed walls of the ruined homes around him, but Goll continues without thought through stone and flame, one arm missing as the other dangled uselessly at his side.
Goll stops just beyond the house to rear up and slam Harry into the earth, the Heir barely holds the great fear back with the strength of his arms pushing against his spear as his feet find Goll's shoulders. The Great Fear begins to shake and savage Harry, hoping to throw him from his spear or weaken him; but Harry grits his teeth as he holds on for dear life.
It was then that Harry watched in shock and horror as Goll regenerated his severed arm. Disbelief struck Harry like a smack across his face, shock had stabbed him so deep that he almost missed Goll's other arm repairing itself as well.
"But…how!?" Harry thinks to himself in shock. The curse from his blade and magician's blood should have at least rendered it impossible for Goll to regenerate his arm. The curse had never failed Harry, from the Chimera's in South America to the Ōni of Mount Oe in Japan, his curse had either consumed any monster wounded by it or hobbled them so completely that they were easy kills. But somehow, someway, Goll had rendered it inert just by existing.
As Goll thrashed once more, Harry let go of his spear and rolled away from the hunt-mad beast's claws that cleaved through stone as easily as if it were flesh. Harry continues to roll around, dodging the best he can from Goll's swings and swipes as the great fear tosses his spear away somewhere in the darkness. As the shock of what Goll had done bleeds away, Harry refuses to let fear replace the shock and calls upon the Hunt in his veins to chase away the fear as he levels his wand at the monster.
"I've been killing monsters long before I had the curse," Harry thinks to himself as he calls upon the magic in his veins, and through sheer force of will, he forces his intent onto the world. "And it not working won't stop me from killing this one," he tells himself as Goll raises his arms to try and crush him once more. Twisting streams of gray metal wrapped around the arms of Goll, forming bands and blocks of tungsten around his arms at the apex of his draw. Harry watches with a smile as the arms of the monster, now bound in the heaviest metal he knew how to conjure, tip the great fear backwards, ripping his arms out of the socket before bringing him crashing to the ground.
As Goll roars and thrashes on the ground, Harry is able to take a step back and take a deep breath before raising both his wand and empty hand. His ears popped as he recalled the Gaé Bolg back to him before the sphere of bubbling stone surged forth to him. At the sound of tearing flesh, Harry opens his eyes, expecting to see the lines of death across the body of Goll or the pulsing point of his heart but only frowns and curses mentally when he sees nothing.
Goll begins to bite and tear at his own arms, gnawing them to the bones to free his arms before violently ripping his shoulders free. Like before, in a grotesque show of black sludge, muscle, and bone the arms of Goll regenerate; but by then it was too late. As Harry's spear leaped to his hand like a loyal hound as the sphere of bubbling stone surged forward in ribbons of magma to encircle and bind Goll. The smell of burning fur and flesh permeates the air as the bands of molten stone snake around the massive form of Goll. But neither the magma nor the pain from the scorching heat seemed to bother the great fear as it ripped and tore the thick bindings from his body. Goll turns to Harry, fires in its Amber eyes as it begins to push toward Harry like a mad beast; heedless of the flames.
The streams of molten stone splash and burn away chunks of the great fear, but he continues to move as if he didn't feel it- or didn't care. Harry pours all he has into the spell trying to slow Goll from moving forward by trying to incase him completely in stone.
But still, Goll moves closer to Harry, one step at a time.
"Fuck, how is nothing stopping this damn thing!?" Harry thinks to himself as he begins to fall back as his sphere of molten stone and flame is spent. As the molten sphere finally spends the last of its mass, Goll rips himself from the magma that had gathered around him, his burning flesh quickly regenerating before Harry's eyes. Goll roars once more before charging at Harry in a blind rage, with gritted teeth Harry stows his wand and meets the great fear's charge with his own.
They begin their dance again, Harry spinning and slashing at the hide and scales of the great beast but at most, they were superficial wounds that quickly closed. Goll smashed and lashed out with every slash Harry lands, trying to crush him or cut him with his claws. Harry backpedaled from Goll, nothing he was doing was even remotely harming the great fear before him. Everything mortal fled from the beast from its mere presence, the only reason Harry wasn't affected like Dora, Kingsley and the lesser monsters was the Hunt in his mind urging him forward to face the beast.
"I don't think retreating would be a good idea either, it would mean I'm just prey," Harry thinks to himself as he leaps away from another slam of Goll's hands. A sinking feeling in his stomach that if he did indeed turn to flee, he would end up like all other things destined to be prey…
He would be devoured.
Harry couldn't fight Goll, Harry couldn't run from him and all he was doing was delaying the inevitable for one way or another he was going to…
Harry danced, twisting and turning out of the way of Goll's claws, trying to rid himself of the creeping thought in the back of his mind. Step, step, turn, spin, slash. He lost count of how many times he cut Goll's fingers from his hands, only to see them regenerate like he hadn't even cut them off. His curse wouldn't take effect, his eyes couldn't find Goll's heart, and no matter how much Harry stabbed, slashed, or gored Goll's chest he couldn't find it either. Harry didn't dare try to use the Gaé Bolg either, he had a horrifying suspicion that it wouldn't work either.
"Goll!" The cry of Cathlenn draws the attention of both Hunter and Beast. Harry could see her pushing herself to her knees, the slash across her chest still weeping black muck and seafoam. She looked weak and barely able to get to her knees let alone stand, across her forehead was the Great Eye she used to conceal her heart now returned to her body in ink. Most of her pale flesh was a map of black veins of The Promised End that had either killed off or sealed shut most of her eyes. "Cuimhnigh ar an Uiseag agus sealgire!" She roars at the top of her lungs and something in the air…shifted.
It was the same odd feeling that Harry had felt when Goll first came to the call of Cathlenn- as if reality began to buckle around the great fear of the Hunt. Goll stops his relentless assault, freezing in place with mid-attack as he hears the words of Cathlenn. Harry pauses as well, his eyes narrowing at the feeling and as the Hunt begins to rage in his mind. He knew this feeling well enough from two years ago as if Goll was…
"...I don't know where Goll came from," the voice of Nyx whispers to herself, Harry was unsure if she had only meant it to herself or knew that he would hear her. But it didn't matter, for as Harry's eyes widened in realization, Goll turned back to him.
And the skull of the Irish Elk began to crack and split…
"I-"
Harry leaps backwards as he hears another voice call out to his left, knowing what is coming and having no want to be caught in the blast radius.
"-BAR!" screams the voice before everything in front of Harry is consumed in a pillar of light. Harry lands on his back before throwing his feet over his head and rolling backwards to get back to his feet before turning to look to his left.
If "wrathful" had a face, at that moment Harry was sure it would be the face of Lugh the Long Arm. The God of justice walks forward through smoke and flame with the light of the sun coming off his form almost as blinding as his spear. Where he stepped, the ground turned to glass, and stone melted as golden Celtic war paint curled around his face.
"Get the hell away from him, you mindless beast," Lugh growled in anger as the earth shook around him. He raises his hand and recalls his spear back to his hand in a show of light and lightning. "You good, Gramhac?" He asks, not turning to look at Harry but glaring balefire at Cathlenn as she struggles to stand.
Harry takes a moment to catch his breath and nods his head. "Yeah, got a bit sticky there before you showed up," he admits as he walks over toward Lugh to stand by his side.
"I could-" Lugh began to say before he was cut off as the roar of Goll could be heard. The Great Fear pulls himself from the crater that was made by Lugh's attack. His form was mutilated and burned by Lugh's attack, its chest and one arm were gone as black muck poured from his wounds like a waterfall; but as it stood Harry could see the wounds already regenerating.
"Seriously!? What does it take to put this fucker down!?" Harry growls in anger, from him and from the Hunt, as he slides back into stance and readies himself for another charge. But to his surprise, Lugh holds his spear out in front of Harry to stop his charge as he eyes Goll with caution. "What-" Harry begins to ask before Lugh turns to Cathlenn to speak.
"Enough Cathlenn, call off your beast. We both know neither of us can win," Lugh calls out to the wounded fear.
"What are you doing!?" Harry snaps at Lugh in disbelief. "She's almost dead! If you can take on Goll then I can kill her!" He argues as he stands from his stance to look at Lugh before the god just shakes his head.
"Some battles aren't worth the victory, Boyo. If I were to fight Goll here and now, we'd wreck the countryside and do more harm than good," Lugh informs Harry with a hard look that brokered no argument. "The only reason you're still alive is because you can outpace Goll as he is now, do not take the fear of the Hunt as some mindless creature- he's blinded by his rage at the moment," he tells Harry calmly before turning back to Cathlenn.
"Take Goll and leave, before Cernunnos takes his hunt here," Lugh tells her with narrow eyes, the twin suns in his eye burning brightly as he glares at the wounded fear. "Take this as my mercy grandmother and know I will not offer it twice," he says in a dangerously low voice.
Goll growls before leaning forward on his one hand, Harry's eyes narrow at the burnt stump of Goll's arm. "He's not regenerating as quickly as when I wounded him," he thinks to himself before his lips twitch as he fights a smile. "So, that's how it is…" he thinks to himself in understanding.
Cathlenn looks between the two warriors standing in the middle of the ruined village, her eyes calculating as she weighs her options and the outcomes. None she liked all that well.
"Goll!" She calls out as the other monster fully restores itself. "Come, we are leaving," she calls out before Goll turns to her and makes a whine in the back of his throat like a hound would. "If you fight Lugh, the boy would find the opening to kill me- we can't afford one of us to die so early, not when we're so close," she says and Goll swiftly moves to her side to scoop her up into his arms with surprising gentleness, almost as if he…cared.
As Goll begins to back away, Cathlenn turns to Lugh and Harry one last time. "My thanks for this…mercy as you call it, oh rightful king of the isles," she tells her grandson with a small smile but in her flat monotone drone of a voice.
Lugh grits his teeth. "I'm no king," he declares with a dark look flashing across his face.
"So you say," Cathlenn quips back as Goll begins to sink back into the black corruption he had spawned from. She next turns to Harry, her smile falling from her face. "As for you, ghost of Tethra, we will meet twice more before this war is through and when the second time comes to pass, one of us will leave this world," she tells Harry before sinking below the muck, blight, and corruption with Goll.
"Ghost of Tethra?" Harry questions, turning to Lugh with a brow raised.
"Never mind her words, boyo. They're only meant to confuse and baffle those who do not know the tides and strings of fate," Lugh informs Harry as he dismisses his spear and relaxes his shoulders a bit.
"Why did you let them go?" Harry asks, his voice harder as Lugh turns to him with a frown. "We could have fought them, we could have killed Cathlenn!? And what do you mean by grandmother?" He says, and as he asks his voice grows more crossed as he speaks, pointing toward where Goll and Cathlenn disappeared.
Lugh's face turns to stone in the face of Harry's anger and indignation. "Calm yourself, Gramhac," Lugh says as he raises a hand to stop Harry from speaking. "We could have fought them, aye. But a contest between me and Goll would do nothing but destroy the countryside and the villages, both mundane and magic alike. Goll is not something that one being, man or God, can overcome but yes, Cathlenn is my grandmother on my mother's side. She was the one who foresaw me killing Balor and told my mother to foster me with Mannanán or else Balor would kill me; I owe her a mercy or two for that," he tells Harry as he crosses his arms over his chest, watching as Harry grinds his teeth.
"She's a monster," Harry states with hard eyes.
"I'm aware," Lugh says back softly.
"Monsters don't deserve mercy," Harry spits at Lugh.
Lugh goes to speak once more, but a bark of a grizzled old voice cuts him off before he could say his peace.
"Potter!?" The barking voice of Alastor Moody rings out sharply across the ruined village, causing both of the warriors to turn to look at his limping form. Just behind him, Harry could see the crimson cloaks of the Aurors begin to fan out and sweep through the village. Harry didn't know when they had shown up, so lost in his hunt he hadn't noticed them till now. "What in the bloody blue hell are you doing here!?" He shouts and as Harry opens his mouth to snap back, Mad-Eye cuts him off. "Shut it! It was a rhetorical question, I was under the impression that Dumbledore told you to stay inside headquarters; so here's the real question, what were you thinking!?" He snaps at Harry, growling as he speaks before getting right into Harry's face, both of his eyes piercing his.
"I was thinking-" Harry begins to reply before Mad-Eye cuts him off once again.
"It doesn't matter what you think!?" Mad-Eye roars before his fake eye begins to spin once more in his socket. "You were told to stay in headquarters till Friday when you went back to Hogwarts, that is what you should have done! But no, you came to a warzone! For what!? To get killed?!" Mad-Eye shakes his head before turning away from Harry as the Hunter glares at Moody.
"Albus! Come talk to you fool of a student and see if you can't talk any sense into his thick head," Mad-Eye roars as he turns. Harry follows where Mad-Eye was looking and sure enough, Albus Dumbledore is walking towards him with a worried look pinching his brow, and he isn't alone. The First Knight of Magical Britain, Rufus Scrimgeour, was walking beside him with a heated glare aimed at Harry.
"Lugh," Moody says far more calmly as he turns back to the god-wearing muggle clothing. Lugh turns to Mad-Eye with a raised brow before Moody speaks once more- and with far more respect and familiarity than Harry thought possible coming from the old Auror. "A moment and a word, if you don't mind," he says, nodding his head to the side.
Lugh turns to look back at Harry for a moment before sighing and clapping him on the shoulder and walking away from him. It suited Harry fine, he was still angry at the God of the Sun and didn't feel like putting up with excuses at the moment.
"Harry, I came as soon as I heard. Are you okay, my boy?" Albus asks as he comes to a stop before him, a hastily looking robe thrown over his pajamas.
"I'm fin-" Harry stops his automatic response to the question before taking a deep breath and nodding his head. "I'm not badly hurt, a bit battered, maybe even a little bruised but otherwise no worse then how I started headmaster," Harry says as he rolls his shoulders and folds away the Gaé Bolg, looking across the destroyed village still littered with Death Eaters corpses; he spits on the closest one. Albus watches Harry's actions with concern, only nodding his head at Harry's answer.
"I'm glad to hear that, though I must ask how you came to be here tonight?" he asks patiently as Harry turns to him with a frown.
"Does it matter?" Harry asks and with a single blink his face goes flat and a bored expression slides into place on his face. "There was an attack, I showed up and stopped it, that's all," he informs Albus with an uncaring shrug of his shoulders.
"That's all?" Asks Scrimgeour, his tone was laced with anger as his eyes narrowed at Harry. "You do realize that thanks to you, three of my Aurors had to be transported to St. Mungo's for emergency limb regrowth; and the whole village was decimated as well," the first knight asks as he takes a step forward to loom over Harry.
Harry just looks at the old lion with an apathetic look. "It isn't like they can't get new arms or legs easily enough, so that's kinda a moot point. But I'm pretty sure the words you're looking for are Thank You," Harry says snarkily as Scrimgeour's face twists with anger.
"I should bring you up on charges, boy!" The older man spits at Harry, his face turning into a sneer with a snarl to his words as he speaks. "You walked into a Military operation!" He nearly yells at Harry.
"And I stopped the attack and killed the death eaters," Harry says back, flat and bored.
"You injured three of my Aurors!" Scrimgeour snaps at Harry.
"Rufus, perhaps-" Albus tries to cut in and calm both his student and the first knight down.
"I gave them a warning," Harry argues back, ignoring the Headmaster's words as he glares at the first knight. "Not my fault they didn't get out of the splash zone fast enough," he says with a dismissive shrug. Albus turns to look at Harry, his eyes widening a bit in both shock and concern, however, Rufus' face turns red at Harry's blatant dismissal of what he had done.
"You disrespectful little brat, you've done-" Rufus says, taking a step forward as he begins to draw his wand from his cane only to be cut off by a new voice entering the conversation.
"-Exactly what is expected of him," the voice says, as calm and cold as a mid-winter night. Both Rufus and Albus look behind Harry, one in surprise and the other in anger, to watch the darkness of the sky take shape, Harry, however, just smirks at the sound of the voice.
"Aren't you supposed to be with your husband right about now?" Harry asks as he turns his head to look behind him at one of the divine beings he has been avoiding over the last few days.
"Oh, I very much should be," The Morrígan says as she steps beside Harry with her own smirk. While she was dressed like Taili Peverell, she had let the illusion of humanity drop a bit. She looked halfway between the inhuman beauty of her fea form and the humanoid appearance of what she wore to The Wizengamot. "But as I was preparing for my day with my beloved, I felt the reappearance of someone I've been waiting for. So, I excused myself for a short time to come and welcome you home properly," she says with a large sharp smile.
"Madam Minister, this boy has-" Rufus begins to speak but soon The Morrígan cuts him off.
"I am well aware of what Mister Potter has done, First Knight Scrimgeour," she says in a cold but placating tone of voice, cutting Rufus off with a disarming smile. "He, in reckless action, has injured three of your Aurors; something I assure you will not go without punishment," she tells him before turning to Harry with what was supposed to be a disappointed look if it wasn't for the amused smile on her face. "Harry, dear?" She asks, causing Harry to look up at her with a raised brow.
"Yes?" Harry asks, sounding confused right before The Morrígan flicks his nose. "Ow! What in Persephone's Garden was that-" he begins to ask before The Morrígan puts a single finger in his face.
"Bad Harry, we do indulge in friendly fire, only unfriendly fire. Do you understand?" The Morrígan says sternly with what should have been a disappointed face- but she still has her amused grin on her face.
Harry rubs his nose, grumbling as he does. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say," he says with a roll of his eyes at the infuriating goddess as she turns back to Scrimgeour.
"There, he's been punished," The Morrígan says with a small placating smile. Scrimgeour, however, did not look happy with The Morrígan. A vein throbbed in his forehead as his face turned red in anger, Harry was sure the old lion was going to bust a blood vessel in his eyes with how enraged he looked.
"First knight! First knight Scrimgeour!" An Auror yells a short distance away from them, causing, after a long glaring match with The Morrígan, Scrimgeour to slowly turn his head to look at the Auror.
"What is it!?" He snaps at the younger looking man, who flinches at Scrimgeour's tone of voice.
"We found Rabastan Lestrange's body, sir! It's in rough shape but his face is undamaged so he was easy to identify," the Auror says as Scrimgeour slowly turns back to glare at Harry, anger filling his eyes and all aimed at Harry. But all Harry does is smirk before mouthing the words You're welcome to the First Knight.
"This is an insult," Scrimgeour spits out as he turns to The Morrígan with the same anger. "You've done nothing but hold back my men from engaging the enemy, putting the Hit-Wizards on standby but never deploying them, you have been handing victory to Voldemort and his gang of giggling lunatics for what!?" he snaps at The Morrígan with venom, to such a point that Harry couldn't help but to admire the balls the man had to do it. "For us to wait for your little attack dog to finally come back to the Isles? So you can sick him on anything you don't like while taking all the praise that you can spin out of the prophet that his rampages bring in?! You and yours have done nothing for this war except let Voldemort and his forces win, " the old Auror continues, unrepentant in the accusations he was throwing at The Morrígan with virulent and disgusted words.
"This was hardly a rampage," The Morrígan informs her first knight, unamused at his words and lack of respect. "More of a temper tantrum, really," she says deadpanned as Harry looks at her like she had wounded him with her words.
At her words, Scrimgeour merely gestures toward the wholesale destruction caused by Harry's opening volley. Spires of solid silver bolts jut up from the earth, carving out either large trenches or large craters. Mutilated remains were tossed about with large splashes of scarlet blood and brackish muck spilled everywhere one could look. The stone houses were reduced to burnt-out shells of what they once were as the memories they once held burned to nothing but ash.
But The Morrígan was not moved by her First Knight. "Are you done?" She asks deadpan once more as she raises a brow at the man before her. "Yes, yes, so very sad that one little village is destroyed. I will weep over it, I assure you," she tells Scrimgeour though not sounding anywhere close to meaning it. "And while I do that, you, first knight, will take the bounty that was on Rabastan's head and make sure each family in this village gets an equal split of it. Then, while I get some ward masters and restoration specialists down here to fix up this village with magic! You will be delivering new orders to each of the Knight-Captains of the Auror corps," she says as she steps forward, looming over the old Auror as ice begins to crawl up Rufus' legs; called forth by the goddess' anger.
"Effective immediately, I am reenacting the special exceptions to the Killing Curse to all Auror and Hit-Wizards done in the last war. From now on, every Round of Aurors will be accompanied by two squads of Hit-Wizards to any attack or skirmish involving Death Eaters or the monsters they control. The Hit-Wizards have at least two members in each squad that can produce a Patronus Charm, they will be running the rescue ops from now on as the Aurors are now free to engage the enemy until they are rendered silent," The Morrígan continues with her orders, her voice loud and echoing and deadly serious for all that heard it.
She then turns to Dumbledore with narrowed eyes. "You, Albus, are to inform your agents in both the Aurors and the Hit-Wizards that they are to pass along how to send messages through the Patroni as soon as they can," she says coldly to the Headmaster who bows his head in acceptance before The Morrígan turns her attention back to her first knight. "As for you, Rufus. You are to bring me the mountain of evidence you have built over the last year and a half of the various families that supported Voldemort during that time. We will go over it, together, and pick out the most viable targets that will cause the most damage to Voldemort's power base, Starting with Lucius Malfoy-" she says with a cold voice and burning black eyes as she almost sneered at the first night before Harry spoke up.
"Lucius Malfoy?" Harry asks, his face twisting in confusion as he looks at The Morrígan. "Why would you need to go after him? He's dead," he informs the gathered government personnel; just before they all turn to look at him confused. There was a long pause with only the crackling of burning buildings and distant shouts of Aurors giving orders could be heard after Harry spoke.
"Excuse me, but would you care to repeat that, Harry dear?" The Morrígan asks after blinking owlishly at the boy who was her champion.
"What? Lucius Malfoy is dead?" Harry asks with a frown as he watches the other three turn to look at each other for a moment before turning back to him.
"How do you know that, my boy?" Dumbledore asks as his eyes narrow over his half-moon spectacles while looking at Harry.
"Because I killed him on Mag Turied months ago, how have you all not found this out by now?" Harry asks, flabbergasted at the confused looks the other three give him.
"Could you have been confused? Maybe he was wearing a mask or Polyjuiced?" Rufus points out as his eyes once more narrow at Harry.
Harry just shakes his head. "No, I'm sure it was him. His scent was the same as all the other times I've met him, and Polyjuice Potion makes people smell weird but not the same as the person they transform into," Harry intones to the first knight as his nose wrinkles in the memory of Ron transformed.
"FUCK!" The Morrígan screams as a burst of icy wind could be felt by all as she throws her hands out. "Right under my nose as well, the slimy fucking face changer!" She rages before pitching the bridge between her eyes.
"What is it?" Rufus asks, turning to The Morrígan.
"Nothing that we can't work around," she says with a sigh before looking at her first knight. "We're going to have to wait on any raid on the Malfoy Manor for now, I need to contact someone and get Ogma ready for the raid," she says with a disappointed look on her face. "Go, you have my orders. The time of holding back our cards is over, we will start beating back the darkness tonight." She dismisses the two older men before turning to her champion. "Harry, with me for a private word if you please," she says before turning and walking away.
"Perhaps we should get Harry back to headquarters, he must be-" Dumbledore begins to say, reaching out to place his hand on the boy's shoulder.
But before he could reach him, Harry turns his back to Albus and walks after The Morrígan.
"Yeah, sure. There are some things I need to tell you anyway," Harry says as he follows after The Morrígan, missing the hurt and worried look on his Headmaster's face. They walk out of the village and deep into the forest and foothills that surround it. Neither the goddess nor her champion said a word between them as they walked, both lost in their own thoughts. Before long The Morrígan stops in a small clearing filled with the light of the full moon, with Harry stopping with her.
"Albus wishes for you to return to Hogwarts," The Morrígan says without turning back to face Harry, instead looking up at the full moon.
"Yeah, said he had things he needed to teach me or show me; something like that," Harry answered her, even though it was more a statement than a question. "Could you talk to him and-"
"No," The Morrígan interrupts him, to Harry's surprise.
"What? Why?" Harry asks, shocked. Out of all the gods, he thought The Morrígan was going to have his back on this particular topic. "My place isn't in a classroom, it's out here! Hunting monsters, killing Voldemort; not doing bloody homework," he states angrily.
The Morrígan finally turns to him, her eyes softer than what they were in the village. "Listen to me, Harry. I am well aware of where you should be, but now is not the time for that. Albus has information that you need to know and only he can give you, Scáthach needs to get off her high horse and stop protecting from the truth, and you have obligations you need to finally commit yourself too," she says, her tone unwavering as she speaks as if the words she spoke were self-evident truths. "After you've done these three things, then, and only then, will we speak about you on the front lines and your Hunt," she tells him far more softly.
"What obligations? What truth?" Harry says sharply, his face twisting in anger at The Morrígan's riddles.
"You already know the obligations, Harry. You were told them the same night you learned the truth of your very soul," The Morrígan tells him as she crosses her hands behind her back.
Harry pauses as he opens his mouth to retort. "He's been waiting for you," the voice of Scáthach rings in his head as Harry closes his mouth before running his hand through his hair.
"As for the Truth, well- Scáthach is far better equipped to tell you that," The Morrígan muses with a tilt of her head and a hum.
Harry furiously scratches the back of his head before throwing his hand in the air. "Fine! Sod it! Whatever! I'll go back to Hogwarts," he announces with an angry sigh.
"Good," The Morrígan says with a nod of her head and a dark smile. "Now, you wanted to tell me something?" She points out.
"Yeah," Harry intones with a sigh before shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. "I met Hera, or- well, Juno I guess," he informs the goddess and watches as her brow shoots up in surprise. "She didn't outright offer it but she made a small comment, that combined with what my mum asked me to offer you next we met I thought I'd bring both up at the same time," he tells The Morrígan, who gestures for him to continue. "My mum told me to tell you, that if you put a request through the official channels of the ICW she would immediately accept it and move her Hunt here until the threat of the Formorians and Voldemort was over- and she would be under your command while on the Isles. Juno wanted to do the same with a few cohorts of the Roman Legion but won't because of some stupid treaty and your pride or something like that," Harry tells her with a frown as a thoughtful look crosses The Morrígan's face.
"I will be dead and buried in the cold, cold, earth before I let another of Roman blood who was not born on my islands to set foot on it again," The Morrígan explains, the thoughtful look not leaving her face as she spoke. "As for your mother's Hunt, that is something I will take under…consideration- if nothing else," she affirms him with a smile as she looks back at her champion.
"Do or don't, it doesn't matter to me. I'm only here for one thing," Harry says with a dismissive shrug before sighing. "Another thing is that Cathlenn's ability to see and know things is not going to work for the next few days. If there was a time to plan or act, now's that time," he tells her with a small grin.
"How do you know this?" The Morrígan asks with narrowed eyes and a frown.
"My curse," Harry tells her, looking her in the eyes as his own shift from Emerald to Amber. "I've been beaten down and hobbled all my life by one thing or another. Be it fate, people, or gods. I pass that curse onto the monsters I Hunt, they either die from it because they don't have the willpower to walk through the same hell as I have or they are hobbled to the point they can no longer function," he informs the goddess with a crooked smile.
The Morrígan smiles at her champion. "By the domains, I've missed you, Harry," she says as her smile turns bloodthirsty.
"That's nice, but I'm still not going to your non-con cavern," Harry shoots back as his smile drops and he aims a glare at The Morrígan.
"Oh, come on! Why do you have to ruin my Samhain as well!? I was looking forward to being double-teamed!" The Morrígan cries out in anguish as Harry just rolls his eyes in good humor before turning around to walk back to the village he left in shambles to find Dora; hoping she wasn't still pissed at him.
Conrad's Tower, October 31st, 3:33 Am.
Cathlenn walks soundlessly through the labyrinth-like halls of the Vast Tower, she feels weak and gutted even after devouring a score of her children. Her physical wounds have closed, but the echoes of Tethra's ghost still crawled through her very being but even now, she could feel the curse ebbing away metaphysical inch by metaphysical inch. She tightly controls her face with each step, not willing to show weakness in front of any of her kin for fear they may try eating her next. But every step was an agony unspoken as for every step she took, she could feel the curse shift in her being- ripping and tearing at her body and soul.
And the worst part? She had lost her sight.
All things outside her immediate vicinity were dark to her, she could not see Goll or the boy, or anything else for that matter. Her eyes were blinded and she was infuriated by it, but still, she would not let it show. So, when the torches that lit the hallway all snuff out, she does not show surprise as she turns and curtsies to the darkness that overtaken the hallway; and lets nothing show on her face.
"Lord Voldemort, Lord Indech," she greets the dark in her normal monotone. "I have returned from my abrupt departure," she says before standing straight once more with a bored look on her face.
"And what did you learn on your sojourn to the outside world, my dear Cathlenn," the voice of the odious mortal whispers into her left ear, high and cruel with false and empty platitudes she didn't care for. But still, she does not jump or act surprised when she turns her head to find Voldemort standing next to her, his empty eye sockets burning a hole in her head.
"The boy has returned," Cathlenn tells him blankly. "He somehow found a way to bypass my sight, something I shall be looking into soon. He killed one of your attack dogs, Rabastan I believe, by the time I showed up. We fought and I failed to kill him, for Lord Indech was right; the boy is dangerous and we will need to deal with him sooner rather than later," she informs the mortal mantling Lord Indech. She watches without fear as a stormy expression washes over the mortal's face as his eyes narrow at her.
She feels him trying to pry his way into her, disgust, indignity, and anger roll through her but she once more shows nothing. It was for nought of course, as soon as she felt him reach into her she grabbed a hold of the thread that led to his mind and twisted it. She watches as the mortal barely flinches at the sights she shows him, how she and the others sacked Nemed's castle only to find the putrid rotting man mutated and bloated feeding on the sick and dying with an unending hunger. How the once beloved prince tore his own infant child in twine before slurping down its guts like noodles. Of how the once powerful and proud prince fell to his own hunger and sickness before they twisted him into the monster he is today.
"I will warn you once, as the vessel of Lord Indech, Tom Riddle. Do not try that again, lest your curiosity destroy you," she tells him in a dead tone of voice but smiles wickedly at him. A sneer crosses the mortal's face, angry at being unable to just take what he wanted from her. But as soon as it appears, it is gone as a false smile replaces it.
"My apologies, Cathlenn. I just wish to know what happened for sure through your own eyes," the mortal says softly as he begins to walk around her, the wings of her Lord twitching in aggravation. "You seem…uninjured," he notes with a small frown.
"The wounds infected were nothing that I could not deal with," she intones to the mortal without looking at him as he completed his circuit around her.
"You regenerated? Without…complications?" The mortal asks, his voice hitching as if it was in disbelief or perhaps curiosity.
"Tis in our nature to regenerate from nearly every wound, no matter what form that wound takes. So long as there is fear fresh in this world, we will always reform," she lied to the mortal, not that he would know; even as skilled as he was in his magic. She was the fear of secrets and forbidden knowledge, and this was something she wasn't going to inform him of; not when she and Goll were so close.
The mortal smiles, showing off the sharp teeth he inherited from Lord Indech as rapture reflects in the crimson light of his empty eyes.
"Excellent," he tells Cathlenn, cruelty and confidence reflecting in every tooth. "Thank you for telling me this, Cathlenn. You are dismissed," he says with a bow of his head.
Cathlenn curtsies once more before stepping around the mortal and continuing deeper into Conrad's tower, a small smile on her face.
Chapter done!
Oh, boy has it been a few weeks. On the week this chapter was gonna release, right before the new Dragon Age dropped, I busted my hand!
I'm fine now, it was just a small sprain that put me behind schedule. But boy did that suck, I couldn't open my hand for the first week which made video games a chore, lol.
Anyway, a new chapter. Harry explains his curse, Cathlenn is lying to Voldy, and Morrígan has plans!
I also put out a new story called "The Last Compartment on the Left." It's a fem!Tom Riddle and Harry Potter go to Hogwarts together in Harry's generation!
Kingsaxcul, out!