Faith: Chapter Forty-One Part One
Chapter 41: Shadows and Light
“Severus! Somebody get Professor Snape!”
“Harry! Dammit Harry don’t do this to me! Wake up! Wake up!”
“You there! Nate! Go get Madam Pomfrey!”
“Harry!”
If Draco Malfoy had cared to look at his clothes, he would have noted that they were ruined. Both shirt and pants had bloodstains on them, and his sleeve was ripped from where Harry had torn it in his struggles. But Draco did not care about his clothes, or how his hair was rumpled, nor how distraught he might have appeared to his Housemates - his entire world was narrowed down to the boy convulsing on the ground, trapped in a vision.
“Draco, I need you to grab his hands. Millie’s going to grab his legs; we need to get him to stop slamming himself against the ground.” Pansy’s voice was strangely calm. She met Draco’s gaze, and he nodded, moving around Harry’s body until he could pin the thin wrists to the ground with his own weight.
“Millie?” Pansy turned to her longtime friend, who nodded and did her best to keep Harry’s legs against the ground. “Good. Where’s that - ah, thank you Neville.” She took the water basin and rags Neville gave her, wetting one and trying to wipe away the blood on Harry’s face. “I can’t tell where it’s coming from.” She shook her head and growled under her breath.
“Let go of him.” Blaise was suddenly at her side with a bucket. Pansy glared up at him, but scrambled away when Blaise dumped the icy water onto Harry’s head.
Draco let go of Harry’s hands and jumped to his feet, enraged. He fisted his hands in Blaise’s collar, shaking him. “What in the blazes do you think you’re doing!” He pushed the boy away, watching him stumble over his feet.
Blaise glared at Draco, but nodded down at the boy on the ground. “Waking him up you fool.”
Draco’s gaze snapped back to Harry, who had stopped convulsing on the ground and had opened his eyes. The blond fell to his knees, scooping up the smaller boy and holding him tight, ignoring the cold.
“Can’t…breathe…” Harry pushed at Draco, coughing. The blond let his grip loosen by fractions.
“Harry you idiot.” Draco buried his face into the dark, wet hair. “Don’t do that to me.”
“I’ll try.” Harry snorted.
The door to the Common Room exploded inwards, scattering the students in every direction, all of them pulling out their wands and aiming them at the door. Severus Snape pushed past the remains of the door, casting a glare at the enraged animagus that had gotten fed up in trying to guess the password. Ginny’s head poked around Sirius’ side, her eyes wide as she stared into the chaos of the Common Room.
“Is he still unconscious?” Severus stalked up to his students, kneeling down next to Draco and Harry.
The blond shook his head. “He’s conscious. Blaise doused him with water. We need to get him to Madam Pomfrey though, he was bleeding again -” Harry began to shake in Draco’s arms, his green eyes dull and vacant. Draco cursed and looked up at Severus, a helpless expression on his face. “He was fine a minute ago.”
“Give him to me.” Severus held out his arms, picking up the small body and standing. “I need you to go to my office and firecall Healer Fabing. Tell him he is needed and that Albus will pick him up specially. Then go to the Headmaster’s office and tell that old fool that the healer is waiting for him. Do you understand?”
Draco nodded, getting to his feet and all but sprinting from the room, followed by Blaise and Neville. Severus took a deep breath and shifted the body in his arms, looking down into the glassy eyes. His expression hardened and he moved towards the door.
“Harry?” Sirius was at Severus’ side in an instant. “Harry can you hear me? Harry?”
“Shut up Black.” Severus snarled at him, not slowing down in the slightest.
“Bugger off Snape.” Sirius reached for the boy, but Severus pulled away from him, a low growl escaping his throat before he could stop it. “He’s my godson Snape!”
“Piss off, Black. The boy needs to get to Poppy immediately and he doesn’t need you slobbering on him the entire way there. So shut up, buck up and pick up the pace!” Severus’ vehement reply left the animagus stunned. Quietly he turned and followed the Potions Master, a dazed look in his eyes.
“Is Harry going to be okay?” Ginny turned to look at Pansy, who was staring at her bloody hands, an unreadable expression on her face.
“I don’t know.”
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“Poppy!” Severus’ bellow made the Head Nurse jump. She turned to face him, her eyes going wide at the sight of Harry in his arms.
“What happened?” The Potions Master passed her on his way to the private rooms at the back of the Ward, making Poppy have to trot along side of him to keep up.
“Potter had a vision.”
“Oh dear,” Poppy shook her head as Severus laid the boy down on a bed, stripping away the ruined clothes and tucking him under the covers.
“I’ve sent for Healer Fabing.” Severus kept his eyes on the boy as Poppy bustled around the room, placing potions in easy reach for the professor. Sirius hovered in the door, trying to stay out of their way and mostly succeeding.
“Good.” Poppy ran her wand down the length of Harry’s body, tsking as the extent of his wounds was revealed. “Severus, do you have any more of that Skele-Gro in your lab? We don’t have enough here.”
“Don’t have enough?” Sirius took a step forward and glanced over at the nurse. “What do you mean you don’t have enough Skele-Gro?”
“His hip has been broken in several places, as have all of his bones in his left leg. He was lucky that none of the tendons have been too badly damaged and that we are able to work on him immediately. The breaks are bad, Sirius. Almost as though he has been crushed by something.” Poppy shook her head and sighed. “Ever since Mr. Potter has come to this school I have gone through more Skele-Gro than I had in the previous five years before his admittance.”
“That’s not his fault!” Sirius took another step closer to his godson, and scowled. “It’s not like he goes searching for those confrontations…”
“They just find him, yes, yes.” Severus stood and glared at Sirius. “Help Poppy while I go to my lab.”
“Whatever, Snape. Just hurry up.” Sirius knelt down next to the bed and picked up the bowl of water and rag sitting on the table next to the boy.
“I’ll be right back, Poppy.” Severus shook his head and strode out the door, not looking back. Poppy let her gaze linger on the sight of godson and godfather for a moment before giving herself a firm shake and pulling out her wand once more. There was so much to do.
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Gwyn ap Nudd rose from his throne, a shower of dust falling from his clothes and skin. His hall was dark and cold, the grand fireplaces long dead. His gray eyes scanned the empty hall, searching for any sign of life. No sound, save his own footsteps and ragged breathing disturbed the silence. He was alone.
A frown marred his pale forehead. That cannot be correct. He was the Lord of the Dead, a ruler of one of the Underworlds. Where are my people? He took a hold of the ancient doorknob, tugging at the oak doors. With a mighty creak the heavy slab of wood opened, and he stepped out into the courtyard.
Where once a prosperous village stood, there was nothing. No castle, save for the room he had been in, remained. The Dark reached for the dim light of the castle, hungry tendrils of power searching for a way to reclaim his essence. What is going on here? He took a step back into the doorway, gripping the cold stones of his throne room wall. Where is my Court? Where are my people?
Gwyn ap Nudd threw back his head and focused his will, fast becoming frustrated with how weak he was. The call that had woken him reverberated in his soul, the mournful voice calling for him, calling for help. Weakened legs trembled and he tightened his grip on the wall and door, holding himself up by sheer force of will. Where had the call come from? Who dreams of me now, in these dark days?
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The body of Cho Chang was thrown in pieces to the Cwn Annwn, who tore the flesh from the bones, gulping down the cooling meat with the occasional snarl and snap at anyone who ventured too close to their cage.
Voldemort watched them, his eyes still burning with rage. I nearly had that brat of a boy. If it hadn’t been for that girl…his hands curled into claws and he dug his fingernails into his wooden armrests. Even the screams of Ezekiel’s victims did not soothe him - No, his eyes narrowed down into slits. No, I will not rest until that boy is dead. I want his broken and battered body in front of me, screaming for mercy. I want to watch him writhe and beg as I let Ezekiel play with him. I want him to watch, gagged and sprawled at my feet as I slaughter all whom he holds dear.
One of the bodies chained to the walls shuddered and went limp, the contents of its bowls spilling down its legs, the stench of it filling the room. Voldemort snarled, surging to his feet and slamming Ezekiel against the mess with a wave of his wand. The torturer whimpered and held out his hands towards his master, pleading with him silently, but it was not Ezekiel that Voldemort was seeing just then. In his mind he replayed the battle with the Brat-Who-Lived, wondering where the boy got his strength. It must be Dumbledore, Voldemort let his torturer go, sinking back down into his chair and staring at the far wall. How else could the boy be so strong? He is far too young to wield such power - no; he rubbed a hand across his mouth and tapped his lips. He will be weak now. Yes, very weak.
“Ezekiel!” Voldemort’s sharp bark made the torturer jump, raising his bloody face to his Lord’s sight. “Get me my Lieutenants. It is time.”
Ezekiel’s eyes widened, but he struggled to his feet. “As my Lord wishes it.” He bowed, his left arm hanging at a funny angle. “However, my Lord, it is not the night of the dark moon, therefore…”
“Be silent you imbecile!” Voldemort snarled, slamming a hand down on his desk. “Get out and do as I say! Or shall I find a new Pet to please me? I fear you are forgetting your place here.”
Ezekiel paled and threw himself to his knees in front of his lord. “Please, my Lord. Do not send me away! Forgive my boldness, for I live only to serve you.”
A cruel smile spread across the Dark Lord’s face. “Remember that, Ezekiel, and do not dare to question me ever again. Your…talents…are many, but mind me in this,” Voldemort leaned forward, pinning the other man in place with his stare. “You are not the only one in this world that has such talents. While I am fond of that mouth of yours, there are many others who can take your place at any given moment. Now, leave me.”
Ezekiel trembled before his lord, his eyes glassy, but he rose to his feet and bowed low, backing out of the room as fast as he dared. Voldemort leaned back with a pleased smile on his face. It is time to move. He nodded, reaching out to pick up the Book of Living Dead and caressing the cover. Hogwarts will be mine, Dumbledore’s head will sit on a spike and that boy will call me Master before I am done.
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Harry gasped as he opened his eyes. Blackness surrounded him and he frowned, running his hands down his sides in confusion. There was no pain. But I should be in the Hospital Wing…He sat up, glancing around to make sure he was alone. Then he turned his eyes to his body.
The last thing he remembered was…Cho. Harry closed his eyes, his breath hitching in his chest. Hot wetness pressed against his eyelids but he forced the tears back. I have no time for tears. He opened his eyes and blinked the blurriness away, and then grunted. The familiar weight of his glasses was gone, and yet his eyesight was not the customary blurriness he was used to. What in Merlin’s name is going on?
“Alright, Harry.” He pushed himself to his feet and dusted his hands off, glancing around once more. “You’re obviously in the Otherworld. Now, find your way out.” Speaking to himself helped push away the rising despair that was threatening to choke him. Snap out of it, Harry. Think clearly. Cho did not sacrifice herself for you to bugger it all up by giving up right afterwards.
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, centering himself as best he could. His thoughts were chaotic and hard to push away, making concentration difficult. He rubbed his hands against his trousers and growled, picturing the sky in his mind. His thoughts finally slowed, letting him expand his consciousness to the Dark around him. To his left he felt a pull, the brightness of a Path seeping into his mind. He opened his eyes and squared his shoulders, keeping the feel of the Path in his mind, using it like a compass needle. He started walking.
Why is it that no matter how long I seem to spend in this place, real time barely moves at all? Harry shivered; there was a chill spreading through the Dark. It had created goose bumps on his skin, and he knew it would not be long before he would be able to see his breath frosting on the air. What is going on?
The Path appeared in front of him suddenly, the light from it almost blinding. He stumbled, falling over his own feet, his arms reeling about him madly. “Ooof!”
“Are mortals always so clumsy?” A familiar voice made Harry turn.
The selkie hadn’t changed one bit. An amused grin was a bit better than a disdainful sneer, and the brown eyes were warmer than Harry last remembered.
“I remember you!” Harry blurted out before thinking. He blushed and dropped his gaze for a moment. “Er, sorry.”
“Mortals.” The selkie seemed amused, setting its pack down on the ground with a shake of his head and rummaging through it. “You’re becoming quite a regular here.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Harry shrugged and scuffed a toe into the soft dirt of the Path. The light was spreading out from where they were standing, illuminating a few dead trees to either side of them. Harry eyed the fauna, the space between his shoulder blades beginning to itch. “Er…these trees weren’t here a minute ago.”
The selkie looked up and followed Harry’s gaze. He grunted once and returned to poking around his pack. “The Worlds are returning. The Sea is rising and the Courts are coming back.”
“Huh?” Harry stuffed his hands in his pockets and bit his lower lip.
“Mortals.” The selkie’s sigh was long suffering, but he finally found what he was looking for and stood. “Here.” He held out a tough-looking slab of jerky and a water skin. “Eat this.”
Harry took a step away from the offering. “Thanks, but no.”
The selkie glowered at him and thrust the food at him once more. “Eat, you idiot. I’m not about to poison you, not after risking my neck in a fight with the Spider over you.”
“But…” Harry gingerly accepted the offer, but did not take a bite. “I thought mortals couldn’t eat stuff from…here. Not without getting trapped.”
“Yeah, well, that goes for normal mortals.” The selkie shrugged and rolled his eyes. “You’re a wizard, right? That means you have immunity from that curse. Add in the fact that you have some nifty little potion that’s nearly made you part of this world, well, then…” He trailed off with a shrug and folded his arms across his chest. “Now, eat. The Morrigan will have my head if you wander around here weak and tired.”
“Are you a follower of the Morrigan?” Harry asked between bites of hard jerky. It was by far not the best meal he had ever had, but it filled his stomach and answered a rising need he had not even noticed until the sharp, salty scent of the meat hit his nose.
“Of course not. I’m a selkie. My Lord is Barinthus, dolt.” The creature rolled his eyes and started walking down the Path, pausing only once to gesture for Harry to keep up with him. “Now, the crows, the banshees, wailing wraiths, they are the followers of the Morrigan. Or at least, those are the ones that stuck around.”
“Then why are you helping me at her orders?” Harry finished his jerky and licked his fingers, lapping up every last bit.
“Because Barinthus and the Morrigan made an agreement before they slept, that whoever woke first would take care of their followers. Honestly…” The selkie snorted and eyed Harry before handing over another strip of meat.
“Well, it’s not like I was ever born here, now is it?” Harry retorted, but took the meat anyways. “I am a student, and I do have classes to take so its not like I have all the time in the world to study up on the Otherworlds and the Old Gods. Add in the fact that, oh, I have a nutcase trying to kill me…”
“Excuses, excuses.”
“What?!”
“Well,” the selkie raised an eyebrow at the boy. “They are. You could have made time to find out the legends and whatnot. And there was always visiting here, you know.”
“How the hell do I visit here, when every time I’ve come here it’s been against my will or because I’ve taken a potion!” Harry stuffed the last of the jerky into his mouth and glared at the selkie.
“Well, you should have found a teacher then. Someone to show you how to get here on your own, preferably to a marketplace, and not in the middle of the Dark.”
“There are no teachers for me! They’ve all disappeared!” Harry wiped at his mouth with his hand and sighed, his anger leaving him in a rush. “Don’t you think we already thought of that? That I had already searched our Library for something that might help me? There’s nothing….absolutely nothing.”
“But the Clans…” the selkie shook his head and watched the boy. “The Clans should have had a Lore Keeper in their ranks…”
“The Clans are gone. The McVir family was all that was left, and it was slaughtered by the Dark Lord.” Harry sighed and looked out into the shadowy forest that had rose around them. “The Clans in America died out a generation ago, and the only one left from them is a mindless old man in a hospital somewhere in Idaho.”
“This is grave news.” The selkie frowned and rubbed his neck. “The Morrigan will not be pleased.”
“She won’t be pleased? Try me. How do you think I feel?” Harry grumbled, his shoulders hunching. “I have to get back to my world - something…” Harry’s breath caught in the back of his throat and his eyes burned. “Something’s happened and they need to know about it.”
The selkie pursed his lips and nodded, gazing off into the distance. “Alright - but first I’m taking you to a marketplace. There are…protections on these places, to make sure no one will fight inside the walls of them. They feel a bit different than the Paths, which aren’t always safe. C’mon, I’ll take you to one and then you can go home.”
“And how am I supposed to do that?” Harry ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “I still don’t know how I get here in the first place! I mean -,”
“Then figure it out.” The selkie’s sharp tone silenced the boy. “Look, no one here can teach you what you need to know. You say there’s nothing in your world that can teach you what you need to know. Fine. Then make it up as you go along.”
Harry blinked at the creature next to him, an angry blush spreading across his cheeks. “I didn’t ask for this.”
The selkie turned his gaze to Harry, the look in them so alien it make the boy shiver. “That is not my problem. It is your problem and you must deal with it, or give up and die.”
“I -,” they had slowed to a stop and Harry growled under his breath. “I can’t give up.”
“Then you have no other choice than to figure this out.” The creature shrugged and turned away once more.
“But why me?” Harry knew that they really did not have time for his tantrum, but the hard knot of anger simply wouldn’t dissipate.
“Chance? Fate? Who knows.” The selkie sighed and turned back to the boy, his expression softening. “Perhaps it was not fair - but you cannot change that. Now, come along, we’re wasting time.”
Harry opened and closed his mouth a few times, glaring at the selkie’s back as he started to walk away. Then his shoulders slumped and he let out a long rush of air. Bowing his head for a long moment, he pulled himself together. When all of this is over I’m going on a vacation. Someone else can save the wizarding world next time. He raised his head and squared his shoulders, trotting a bit to catch up with the selkie. I’m definitely going on vacation after this.