ÓPHIS

CHAPTER 2:

THE STRANDED GODDESS

Was this a dream? Was this like the dream she had when that boy reflected her own Bounded Field on her with Athena's accursed shield? A bittersweet false reality that gave her one last moment of peace before that boy took her head with Zeus' weapon?

No. Her lungs were still aching after her unexpected resurrection. Dreams held little pain. Nor did nightmares, at least physically. The warlock's foul blood was still rank upon her tongue. It was rich with mana, but it tasted far fouler than any blood she had tasted, and she had tasted the blood of many men, and even the occasional woman.

Though that particular thought was a line of thought she didn't want to venture upon. In her last moments in her past life, she realised she had devoured her older sisters. She was blessedly free of the actual memory of devouring them, but not of the guilt. And the one who called himself Voldemort claimed that they were dead.

Medusa tamped down on the guilt and self-reproach as hard as she could. Now was not the time to dwell on her many sins. The Magus woman in front of her had answers, if she could use the young wizard as a translator.

Medusa recognised this place as her home, the Shapeless Isle, the one she was driven to along with her sisters thanks to Athena's spite and the humans turning on her. Not all of them: Athena's curse hadn't turned all of her worshippers against her, but the majority had, and if that Voldemort was representative of those that remained…

The Magus woman handed the young wizard a bracelet, speaking to him at length. Eventually, the young wizard said, in Parseltongue, "Umm, Medusa? Miss Aozaki there said that this bracelet has translation magecraft on it. It should allow you to speak English, she said."

Medusa looked down at the bracelet. It reeked of magecraft, but either there was no control spell, or it was more subtle than she would have thought. The woman was clearly a warrior as well as a Magus, and that suitcase reeked of foul magic, but if it was genuine translation magecraft, it would help immensely. "Thank you…hmm…I do not know your name, wizard."

"Harry Potter," the young wizard said.

"Thank you, Harry," she said, before putting the bracelet on. No sign of mental control, thankfully, unless it was subtle.

"Thank you for putting that on, Medusa," the Magus said, her words now clearly understandable. "I know it's a bit much to ask someone you've only just met to trust you, especially a Magus, but I have that handy for myself just in case. I know Japanese, Chinese, English, as well as a smattering of other European languages, but Parseltongue and Ancient Greek are a bit beyond my means, at least as far as fluency is concerned. How are you enjoying my Mystic Eye Killers?"

Medusa touched the strange framed lenses on her face, but refrained from removing them. "They are most effective. I must admit to being pleasantly surprised. My Mystic Eyes are a curse imposed on me by Cybele, and share her name. That a Magus can counter them is heartening. My thanks to you."

The Magus nodded. "I was all raring to slay Voldemort for stealing my property, not to mention daring to sign a note to 'Scarred Red' rather than Touko Aozaki, my actual name."

Harry then asked, "Why are you called…?" But he was interrupted by a sharp glare from Aozaki.

"Don't ever call me that, Harry Potter. I've made it a rule of mine to slay anyone who dares use 'Scarred Red' to refer to me, and I don't want to try to kill you, not when you have an overprotective Gorgon who'd probably be able to kill me before I could do anything." After a moment, her expression softened. "Besides, you've been thrown into this shit in the deep end. You don't deserve me trying to kill you for that. As for why…it's a very personal issue. Let's just say it ties into why my sister Aoko and I have issues, and leave it at that." With a shrug, she pulled out a curious small paper cylinder and lit it with fire magecraft, inhaling the resulting foul-smelling smoke. "We're on better terms these days, if that helps. But we have more important things to discuss than my family relationships. Like the resurrection of one of Ancient Greece's most notorious beings."

I'm standing right here, Medusa thought to herself irritably, though she didn't voice that thought.

"Okay, so, storytime," Aozaki said. "I don't know which versions of Medusa's myth you've read, Harry, but in all likelihood, they're wrong. Medusa wasn't a priestess of Athena, raped by Poseidon in Athena's temple, and turned into a monster because Athena didn't want to punish her uncle for rape."

"Voldemort claimed they were goddesses. The Gorgons, I mean. But not like the Olympians," Harry said.

"Which is correct. The Olympians, believe it or not, were once alien machines, according to research. It's a long story, and one we don't have time to go into. The Gorgons, on the other hand, are Divine Spirits born from the desires of humans for perfect deities, so the research claims. This was back during the Age of Gods, which ended roughly around the time of the AD era and the advent of Christianity. Anyway, long story short, Medusa was the only Gorgon who aged, albeit slowly. While Stheno and Euryale retained the appearance of young teenagers, Medusa gained adulthood. Athena became jealous of her beauty, and turned her worshippers against her with a curse. But not all of them were affected. The Cult of Medusa tried to support her, but she fled in exile to this very location, the Shapeless Isle. I only found this place tracking Voldemort, and the way into the chamber below only seemed to appear when Medusa was resurrected."

"My followers did not all turn on me?" Medusa asked.

Aozaki nodded. "Believe it or not, your eventual killer, the Greek hero Perseus, was a follower of your cult, as was his mother, Danaë. They knew about your then-condition as the Gorgon monster. I have writings from him I can show you later that shows he came to kill you as a mercy."

Medusa's eyes widened in shock. A mercy? True, she was an unthinking monster by that point, but a mercy?

"You owe your eventual resurrection to him," Aozaki said, inhaling more smoke from that paper tube. "After his adventures were over, he gave your head to your cult. There, they began a ritual designed to eventually resurrect you. He'd managed to bind your soul to your head, with help from the spirits of your sisters. The resurrection would take centuries at least, to ensure you weren't revived as the monster you were, if not millennia, but the cult was meant to take stewardship of your resurrection. Unfortunately, Athena, that spiteful cow, intervened."

Of course she did, Medusa thought bitterly. Unbelievable though the revelations about her killer were, this was something she knew too well. And she could guess what.

"With the help of your sisters, your remains and the ritual were hidden by a charm not unlike the Fidelius, and Athena could not break it, as Stheno and Euryale's spirits had specifically ensured she could never break it, especially with her waning power. So, Athena decided to poison the well. Almost all of your remaining followers had their morality corrupted by her curse. Stheno, Euryale, and Perseus had their souls protected by Zeus, as Perseus was Zeus' bastard child, but the Cult of Medusa now strived to revive you so that you would lay waste to the world. In other words, they became stereotypical evil cult bullshit. Athena kept doing what she could to taint your legacy, up until she finally faded from existence."

"And how do you know this?" Medusa asked, keeping her tone as calm as she could.

"Amongst the fields of magecraft I dabble in are Mystic Eyes, eyes that have a magical property, like your own Cybele," Aozaki said, presumably explaining Mystic Eyes for Harry's benefit. "I have a substantial collection of Mystic Eye Killers, which I created myself. I learned about your story while researching your Mystic Eyes, which are debatably the most famous in myth and history. As for Perseus' true allegiances, I have writings in his own hand. I just never thought I'd see the proof with my own eyes, a goddess reborn in the modern era."

"…But is it true?" Medusa asked, her voice now husky with emotion. "Has it been more than three millennia? And my sisters…they are truly dead? By my own hand?"

"…I'm afraid so," Aozaki said gently. "I'm sorry."

A sob escaped Medusa's throat before she could clamp down on her self-control. Her sisters dead, and it was her fault! Three millennia since her demise! Despair threatened to well up, and…

Suddenly, a pair of arms wrapped around her body, surprising her with their embrace, and the body attached to them. It was the wizard, Harry Potter. "…I'm sorry for your loss," Harry said quietly, his own voice thick with emotion. "I…Voldemort murdered one of my friends and my owl prior to bringing me here. But your sisters…you didn't mean to kill them, right?"

"Does it matter?" Medusa demanded, even as tears began to trickle from her eyes. "I was already a monster before I did so, murdering many humans who came to slay me and abduct or slay my sisters. I…I revelled in it, despite my sisters' admonishments not to, not just petrifying the intruding humans, but drinking their blood as if I was some Dead Apostle. Not all of it was Athena's curse."

"…If you are a monster," Harry said quietly, but pointedly, "why the bloody hell did you save my life? If you wanted to, you could have killed me too. I doubt I'm under mind-control, as I've still got doubts about you anyway. But…why did you save me, Medusa?"

Why indeed? Maybe it was because she saw someone who was afraid, and yet, there wasn't just fear, but a courage, to stand tall in the presence of an imminent demise. And Voldemort…with his superficially deferential words that barely masked his ambition…she could sense the darkness within him and his followers.

She wasn't sure why she chose to save Harry. She certainly wasn't sure if she deserved any praise for it. Not after all the lives she had taken in the past. No, she didn't deserve it at all…

Harry wasn't sure why he hugged Medusa. Then again, maybe part of it was her challenging preconceptions. He half-remembered seeing her in the old film Clash of the Titans through the cupboard's door while Dudley and Petunia watched it. Medusa was some ugly stop-motion animated creature, a hag-like creature with scales, a snake tail, and snakes for hair(1).

Yet Medusa looked like a normal human being. The hair colour was a bit odd, and her pupils were strange, yet if she was dressed in modern clothing and walking down the street, she'd get a double-take, and that was it. And even though she slew all those Death Eaters, Harry couldn't find it in himself to care. They were killers themselves, and she saved him. And her expression when she realised she was over three millennia away from her original time, and she killed her own sisters, was telling.

Oh, he was still wary of her, and after all he went through, that was only sane. She even admitted to killing many people. But for someone who was supposed to be one of the most notorious monsters in the world, and a fallen goddess to boot, Medusa seemed very human. Stoic and hard to read for the most part, but her tears seemed real.

Maybe it was because he never had anyone to truly console him after Cedric died. And after Sirius died, things were awkward, to say the least. Dumbledore's funeral ended with Ginny breaking up with him, saying Harry wouldn't be satisfied without Voldemort to pursue.

Or maybe he was hugging her to console himself as well as her. Hagrid was dead. Hedwig was dead. Even now, he couldn't believe it. Hagrid had been his first real contact with the wizarding world, and for all the half-Giant's loyalty to Dumbledore and his questionable decisions involving dangerous animals, he was still a good person. And Hedwig…one of his closest companions, a gift from Hagrid. Both gone forever.

And Mad-Eye Moody as well! The ultra-paranoid ex-Auror, dead. He'd been one of the decoys too, the one going with Fletcher. That bloody unreliable spiv probably flaked on Moody. Anger clashed with sorrow. The only consolation was that Voldemort and the Death Eaters were dead now.

Touko cleared her throat, interrupting his train of thought. Despite admitting she would murder anyone who called her 'Scarred Red', which seemed like an overreaction to Harry, she did seem sympathetic. "I took a Portkey from one of the Death Eaters, a guy by the name of Walden Macnair."

"And what happened to him?" Harry asked.

"I have a monster in my suitcase," Touko said, her tone deceptively flippant, patting the suitcase. "I call him Mr Nibbles. I fed Macnair to Mr Nibbles after he called me 'Scarred Red'. I was going to anyway on general principle, but I ensured it was more slow and painful after his bit of suicidal stupidity." Touko pinched the bridge of her nose. "The last time I did that was to an old friend of mine from Clock Tower turned enemy, Cornelius Alba. And believe me, he deserved every second of it from an objective viewpoint."

"There is something in that suitcase, if that is what that thing you're carrying is called," Medusa concurred.

"My point is, the Portkey should be able to take us back to Britain. The wizards' modes of transportation may be uncomfortable, but they're quick," Touko said. "From there, you can contact your friends and allies. But if you want my advice, Harry, be careful of who you tell about what happened. Medusa doesn't have the best reputation in most circles. But…I think you can trust her."

Touko's words had Harry blink in surprise, as did Medusa herself. "Why would you say that?" Medusa asked.

Touko shrugged, even as she took the cigarette she had been smoking, dropped it and stamped on it. Picking it up and putting it into a box she pulled from her pocket, she said, "Magi walk hand in hand with death on the path to Akasha. They view that as an excuse to basically be as amoral or immoral as they like, and I am little different. I just try to avoid hurting innocent people, but by many metrics, I'm still a monster. And monsters can recognise their own. I've been paying attention to the way you act, Medusa. Whatever Athena's curse and the resulting bloodlust drove you to do, it's not affecting you now. You may be ruthless when the situation calls for it, and it'll take time before you can face your past. But when given the choice, you saved an innocent life, and took out a group of wizards who rival more than a few Magi in immorality. That speaks much about you not being a monster when you have the choice."

"You give me too much credit," the Gorgon said quietly.

"Do I? In Ancient Greek, 'Medusa' means 'guardian'," Touko said. "A nice bit of nominative determinism there(2). In any case, I'm going with my instincts. They're usually right. But your true nature should be kept secret from most within Clock Tower, Medusa. I'm telling only a few, but to protect you and Harry, I'll take the credit for killing Voldemort."

"Why?" Harry asked.

"Have you ever heard of a Sealing Designation?" Touko asked. On his confused shake of his head, she said, "Magi whose research is…valuable, if somewhat dubious, may get what's called a Sealing Designation. Basically, we either get imprisoned for life, even if it's a gilded cage, to continue our research, or we get killed and our research is kept for reference. One surefire way to get one is to either research Dead Apostles, vampires to you, or Reality Marbles, mental worlds that can temporarily overwrite reality. Of course, some with Sealing Designations not only view it as a source of perverse pride, but also, like yours truly, are so dangerous that they cannot enforce it. Clock Tower knows that I could kill almost any Enforcer they send after me, so they leave me alone for the most part. I'm more useful at liberty, though it doesn't stop some idiots from trying. And if the wrong people learned of who and what you are, Medusa, they may try to slap a Sealing Designation on you. I mean, a goddess, long after the Age of Gods had ended? What Magus wouldn't want to study that? The difference being is that I and those I consider worth telling would at least bother to asking for your consent first."

"How kind of you," Medusa said stonily, pun intended.

"Kindness has little to do with it. It's courtesy to ask permission from a being that could kill you as easily as someone else would snap their fingers, and common sense to let a refusal from said being stand. I have a werewolf, not the sort wizards are more familiar with, but a Phantasmal Beast, as an associate, I know what I'm talking about," Touko said. "Anyway, Harry, with your help if possible, I want to bring back the Death Eaters' corpses, or at least their heads. If nothing else, Clock Tower may have a bounty on a few of them. Magi usually don't bother to intervene with wizards unless they intervene with us, but we still may have bounties on them."

"And is there a bounty on my head?"

"No, nor on anyone you care about," Touko said. "I may need your help to Transfigure the corpses into something more portable. Like pebbles or something. Can you manage that?"

"…I'll try," Harry said grimly.

He just hoped this wouldn't backfire on him. Magical Britain hadn't been kind to him, after all. And he hoped his friends were alive and well, and wouldn't freak out about what happened. After all, he had been party to the revival of one of myth's most infamous monsters…

CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:

Touko explains some matters, while Harry and Medusa are ill at ease.

I admit, I only know something of Touko's characterisation from watching a couple of the Garden of Sinners films, along with clips from the same. I do know of her oft-murderous feud with her sister Aoko, but I wanted her to feel like she did in Garden of Sinners, as a gentle mentor type, albeit cynical and sardonic, but with something very dangerous beneath. It's why she cuts Harry off before he could call her 'Scarred Red': she doesn't want to murder a relatively innocent young man, and I actually think she would have given him a pass, albeit just once, if he made the mistake of uttering it.

I can't remember what that thing she carries in her suitcase in the fifth Garden of Sinners film (Paradox Spiral) is, whether it is some weird Phantasmal or a demon. That's why I was vague about what it was. Touko calling it 'Mr Nibbles' is purely my invention, but it seems like the macabre sort of joke Touko would make in naming a beast that looks like a Shoggoth made of crimson hellfire and who eats people. Just ask Cornelius Alba. Oh wait...

1. I am, of course, referring to the old Ray Harryhausen version of Clash of the Titans from 1981.

2. Nominative determinism is a fancy way of saying people's names or surnames determine their later career, often humorously. More than a few Potterverse characters, at least in the stores, would probably fit. This has even been noticed in scientific fields. A man called Daniel Snowman wrote a book on polar expeditions, an article on urology was cowritten by researchers by the name of Splatt and Weedon…you get the picture.