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Shadow of the Serpent | ||||||
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Category: Post-OotP Characters:Harry/Ginny Genres: Action/Adventure Warnings: Death, Extreme Language, Violence Story is Complete Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 537 Summary: **June Dumbledore Silver Trinket Award Winner for Best Angst, and May winner for Best Author** Harry is whisked away to an ancient island to be trained in Occlumency. What he finds is another complication to add to his already complicated life. Will friendship, love, loyalty, bravery, and honor be enough to save him from the Shadow of the Serpent that haunts his life? H/G angst/action adventure. Hitcount: Story Total: 152137; Chapter Total: 5568 Awards: View Trophy Room |
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A/N: For those of you struggling with the strange names, I’ve provided a pronunciation guide which I’ll keep at the end of each chapter for easy reference. Please know that this is my best guess, but it should help to know how I’m pronouncing them. I’m not an expert, but according to my research I feel this is probably pretty close. Nahutl is a real language and all the words/names are real words, picked for meaning. As I don't speak Nahutl or even Spanish, I'm not sure the guide is totally accurate, but it might help. The Shadow of the Serpent Chapter Four: The Legend and the Temple Harry’s mouth opened and closed soundlessly. Overwhelming panic took a firm hold of him and he could not breathe properly. Surely he had not heard correctly… Hunter was joking, right? He knew his memory was faulty at the moment, but surely he’d remember something of this magnitude, wouldn’t he? Masaya looked as if she had just swallowed a mouthful of lemon drops and glared at Hunter defiantly. Harry noticed that she didn’t like what Hunter had said any more than he, but she didn’t looked especially surprised, either. Hunter seemed to enjoy the looks of horror on the young people’s faces and grinned in mischievous amusement. Once again, Harry’s anger threatened to break free from the tight reign he held on it. The older man’s mirth at his expense made his blood boil and roused the snake once again. He took deep breaths to try to remain calm and keep control. Although he didn’t notice, the temperature in the room began to rise with his growing anger. Against his will he could hear the hissing growing louder. If only he could relax! Hunter had said anger made it stronger…. In an effort to suppress the growing presence of the thing inside him, he closed his eyes and concentrated. Suddenly, an image of Ginny in the cottage as he had last seen her came to mind. The image was so vivid he could almost conjure her. He could see her vibrant red hair glowing golden in the sun, wildflowers stuck precariously in the loose tresses, and the way her eyes sparkled when she had first seen him standing in the cottage of her dreams. Slowly, he lost himself to the memory. Amazingly, he felt her emotions coiled around his own, giving him support. She was sleepy, confused, and concerned but resolute. It was the most pure and good thing he had ever felt in his life. Her emotions washed over him like a cool shower and made him feel stronger. The sensation brought his anger in check. As he calmed down, however, the connection slipped away. He tried in vain to hold on to it, but it was like trying to grasp water — it was useless. He felt the loss deep in the core of his soul. For a moment he had felt full. Now he felt emptier than he could ever remember feeling. It was one of the worst feelings had had ever had in his life. Much like the time Aunt Petunia had accidentally switched the tags on one of Dudley’s extravagant Christmas presents and given it to him by mistake, only to have it abruptly snatched away. It was almost as bad as when he realised Sirius was never coming back. All of these emotions were playing out on his face, even though he was not aware of it. If he wasn’t in the presence of others, he might have cried. When he opened his eyes, he saw Hunter and the girl staring at him. Hunter’s amusement was gone and Masaya regarded him warily. Both had small beads of sweat dripping down their faces. Hunter produced two white clothes from his pocket and tossed one to the girl, who delicately patted her face with it. Hunter mopped his brow. Harry, on the other hand, felt cool enough. He didn’t feel hot in the least. “All right there, Harry?” Hunter asked. His voice sounded concerned and… guilty? “Yes,” Harry said coldly. He didn’t notice the blast of cold air he sent in Hunter’s direction that had the older man shivering through his sweat. “Why, in the name of Merlin, wouldn’t I be?” he said sarcastically. He knew he bloody well wasn’t all right, but he wouldn’t admit it for 10,000 Galleons. His temper may be under control, but he was still angry. Hunter’s joke made him feel as if he were ten years old again and being teased by Dudley and his gang. He hated that feeling. “Before you get all upset again, I suppose I’d better explain,” Hunter said, wiping more sweat from his forehead with the handkerchief. He shivered from the draft that had suddenly seemed to blow through the room, but did not let his discomfort get the better of him. The boy was powerful indeed; more powerful than he had imagined. In this case, looks were definitely deceiving. Thankfully, his voice was smooth and did not betray the inner turmoil going on inside his mind. Wondering again if he should trust him, Harry didn’t say anything but nodded curtly. He didn’t have confidence in his voice right now. The anger was still there, just under the surface, ready to break free again at any moment. Seeing Harry’s rigid countenance, Hunter sighed and sat down at his desk. Harry had not noticed it before because it was piled high with books, papers, charts, and maps. “This is a long tale, lad. You’d better have a seat.” He waved his hand and conjured a chair out of thin air. Harry was shocked. He hadn’t even used a wand. Glancing at the young woman who looked ready to bolt, he said, “You stay too,” he told her sternly. “This involves you too.” She looked mollified and sat down uncomfortably in the chair Hunter conjured for her, fingering her delicate bracelets nervously. Harry shrunk as far away from her as he could get and steadily avoided looking at her. He kept his eyes on Hunter and gave him a glare that would melt a lesser man. Seeing the extent of the young man’s anger, Hunter tried to defuse the situation. “Harry, I apologise for my little joke. I shouldn’t have done that.” Harry didn’t say anything but let Hunter know through his body language that he heard him. He was still too upset to talk. Hunter continued. “If you’ll indulge me for just a moment, I’d like to start at the beginning. It’ll help explain why I said what I said. I know that some of what I am about to tell you seems unrelated, but I think it’s important for you to hear the whole story.” Hunter paused, silently asking his permission to continue. “As long as you tell me the truth, I don’t have a problem with that,” Harry answered, surprised that his voice sounded as calm as it did. Whatever Hunter had to say seemed serious, judging from the look on his face. His face looked older and more haggard than he had ever seen it. Harry couldn’t understand why he should look so upset when he had been joking only a few minutes ago, but he was too angry with the man to care. “Yes… the truth,” Hunter said wryly. “Perhaps I will start there.” Hunter leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers in contemplation. “…many years ago, Harry, I was lied to by someone I trusted implicitly.” He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. The torture on his face was raw and twisted with emotion. For a moment Harry wondered if he was going to continue. When he spoke again, his voice was soft and riddled with pain. “As a result, I lost everything that was truly important to me. Voldemort killed my family, Harry. My wife and infant son can be counted among his victims.” He waited for this information to sink in before he continued. Harry didn’t know what to say. Voldemort killed his family? Harry knew that this was not unusual. Many families had been destroyed by the Dark Lord during his first reign. Hagrid had said it was the main reason people feared to speak his name. Was this why Hunter seemed so ill-tempered most the time? Harry was starting to see the man in a new light when Stephen continued. He sighed heavily. “I was utterly destroyed. For a time, all I wanted was revenge. Then you defeated Voldemort, and I didn’t even have that anymore. I left England in order to save my sanity. From that point on I travelled the world seeking out the most dangerous and reckless missions possible, hoping that one day fate would catch up to me. I was not foolish enough or brave enough to try to take my own life, but I welcomed death with open arms. “I am ashamed to admit that I amassed quite a lucrative business during that time. People paid me large sums of money to do the impossible, and I somehow always came through. It didn’t matter to me what the purpose was behind what I was doing. I never asked questions, even though I am quite sure that some of what I was hired to do was more or less unsavoury. “You see, Harry, I wanted to die. My life was over and all that was left was finding a way to get through the next day, hour, minute….” His voice trailed off and he paused again, making Harry wonder what he was thinking. His face was thoughtful and pensive. Without warning he spoke. “One day a man, one of my benefactors whom I knew dabbled in the Dark Arts, approached me with a proposition. He wanted me to find a lost civilisation… a colony of ancient magical people who had virtually disappeared centuries ago. Many believed that they had died out from starvation and disease, but this man was convinced that they still existed. He had heard rumours of a hidden island located somewhere off the coast of South America that held treasures beyond imagination. More importantly, legend told that these ancient people had a secret power — a power that could revolutionize the Wizarding World. “Needless to say, I was intrigued. I did not trust this man, but I accepted reluctantly and set off for South America armed with the little information given to me. I spent hours researching the history and learning the ancient language. Languages come easily to me, but this one seemed to be ingrained in my very soul. It didn’t take me long to become proficient enough to interpret the ancient documents I was given. “It all came together far too easily. I knew the road was dangerous, but I ignored the signs. Three previous teams had disappeared without a trace and my investor was growing frustrated and impatient. He put me in touch with a guide who claimed to know the location of the island. I paid him a large sum of money to get me as close to the place as possible, but he tricked me and left me floating in the middle of the ocean. “I floated for days, coming close to death. At some point I must have passed out and when I woke up I was here. My dingy had found its own way. Tecuhtl has said many times that the Gods brought me here. Maybe he’s right. I know that I shouldn’t have been able to just float up on shore like I did. The Ancient Ones put many protective wards around this island — not unlike Hogwarts. Yet that’s exactly what happened.” “So they let you stay?” Harry asked. “Have you been here ever since?” “No, I leave occasionally. I was granted permission to stay as long as I want. Tecuhtl asked me to teach his people my language and culture. In exchange, I am given a place to live, free reign of the island, and ancient artefacts to take back to the Wizard and Muggle worlds. Money is no longer an issue for me. I have more than I could ever need, thanks to my generous friends.” “What about the wizard that sent you here?” Harry asked. “Didn’t he come looking for you? Weren’t you obligated to let him know what you found out?” His mind was a sea of questions. Hunter shrugged. “He has no idea where I am. I hold no contract with him and he has no claim on anything I bring back from my expeditions. I was given false information that nearly cost me my life. I owe him nothing, as far as I’m concerned, but I owe the people of Tlilli Tlapalla my life.” His blue eyes flickered to the girl sitting next to Harry. She looked repugnant and turned her head away as if pouting, but did not speak. “What does all this have to do with me?” Harry pressed. “And her?” He jerked his head towards Masaya. Hunter shifted uneasily in his chair. “Ah, yes… Now we get to the crux of the matter.” His gaze shifted from Harry to Masaya, who was listening impatiently. “Xolotl,” she said angrily. “I refuse to allow you….” She did not finish, just continued to glare at him supremely. Hunter and Masaya locked eyes. “This might be easier coming from you,” he told her. “No,” she said stubbornly. “I have not submitted my will to this agreement and I will never accept it.” “One of you had better tell me,” Harry said threateningly. Hunter sighed. “Well, Harry, it’s like this…. The Council has some rather unusual ideas,” he said hesitantly. “My arrival was foretold by a great Seer of the age.” He looked to be almost embarrassed. “Because of the circumstances surrounding my arrival - including the timing of it during an important religious ceremony - I am seen by the people of this island as akin to a divine being.” Harry snorted. Hunter was many things, but divine was not one of them. “Yes, yes. I know,” he said laughing. “It’s hard to swallow. But the Mixtecs, like their ancient Muggle ancestors, are very in-tune with nature and the universe. They believe that events happen for a purpose. My arrival was no accident, just as your present circumstances are not accidental. It was all foretold many years ago and written down in the ancient book called Popol Vuh. It’s an ancient book of prophesy written by the ones who created this island. I’ve read it myself, and I have to admit it has some validity.” “All right,” Harry said with growing irritation. “I know you said to be patient, but I still don’t see what this has to do with her,” he said, indicating Masaya, “and me.” “I was just about to get to that,” Hunter said crossly. “Tecuhtl, the chief of this island and Masaya’s father, is a very religious man. He has promised his firstborn daughter to The Plumed Serpent, otherwise known as Quetzalcoatl - one of the most important Gods in the history of the whole Mesoamerican culture.” “How can she be promised to a God - isn’t that the stuff of fairytales? What are they planning to do, anyway? Throw her in a volcano, or something? Besides, you just implied that she and I… you know,” Harry said with growing irritation. He was very confused now. None of this was making any sense. He was losing patience with the history lesson and was very suspicious of where this was going. “What are you on about, Hunter? Just speak plainly.” Hunter sighed again. He had no idea this would be so hard. “The Council believes that Plumed Serpent will take human form this time, Harry, as his greatest test against evil.” “So?” he said. “What does this have to do with me?” “I see you’re still not tracking with me,” Hunter said with a small grunt of exasperation. “The people of Tlilli Tlapalla have been watching the signs written in the heavens for many years now. The Mixtecs believe that evil forces are at work in the world right now. Plumed Serpent was to be born sixteen years ago, almost to the day.” Harry snorted. “If you’re talking about me and Voldemort, then you’re mad. He’s powerful, but he’s no God. And I’m definitely not this… whoever you think I am.” Hunter raised his eyebrow. “No? Are you sure? The Mixtec definition of a God is very loose, Harry.” Harry sputtered. “Of course I’m sure.” “What if I told you that Voldemort is the being they call Tezcatlipoca? He’s certainly proven himself invincible. Even a rebounded Killing Curse didn’t stop him.” Hunter said the word ‘rebounded’ with a measure of significance. He seemed to be implying something, and continued to look at Harry thoughtfully. “Only two people in history have ever survived any form of the Killing Curse.” “But,” Harry said slowly, “if Voldemort is Tezcatlipoca, then… what you’re trying to say is…. You think I’m….” He couldn’t say it out loud. It was too absurd. “You are the Mixtec’s Plumed Serpent, Harry. The protector of humanity,” Hunter said grimly. “But I’m not,” Harry said quickly, jumping up from his chair. “Of course you are,” Hunter said in his infuriatingly logical and calm voice. “I can’t be,” Harry said angrily, pacing. “My mother… she- No. It’s crazy! You’re both crazy to think…” Masaya snorted indignantly. “Of course he’s not! Look at him, Xolotl. He’s a child. Next to Tlaloc, he’s puny and weak! This boy is no warrior!” “Hold on!” Harry yelled, whirling on her. “Just because I’m not who you think I am, is no cause to go insulting me! I don’t have anything to prove to you, or anyone else!” “Harry,” Hunter said patiently, breaking up the potential argument. “You are the Plumed Serpent. All the signs point to it. According to the prophecy - both Dumbledore’s and the Ancient Ones’ - you are the defender of humanity. Your destiny is to defeat the Evil One.” “I don’t want- …Don’t you think I’d know if I was this - what did you say… the defender of humanity?” Harry was ranting now. “Why does everyone seem to think I’m something I’m not?” he yelled. “I don’t want this! I’m not your guy! I’m nobody but Harry. Plain, ordinary Harry! I may be a wizard, and my Mum may have died to save me, but I don’t want any of it. Do you hear me? You can shove your bloody prophecies and legends. I’m done. Understand? Done! Tell Dumbledore and anyone else you bloody well care to that I quit! Find someone else to save the bloody world! I’m going home.” He turned on his heel and slammed out the door. Hunter looked over at Masaya, who had not said a word since inciting Harry’s anger. She seemed to be shocked and appalled at Harry’s childish outburst. “He’s very rude,” she said disdainfully. “Hmmm…” he said thoughtfully. “That didn’t go over very well, did it?” ********************************* *************************** Harry didn’t even know where he was going. All he knew was that he needed to get as far away from Stephen Hunter and that girl as he could possibly get. Imagine! The git thought he was some sort of reincarnated God! It was absolutely ludicrous! He marched out of the courtyard and through the breezeway, blind to his surroundings. He was done. Through! What he really needed was to go home. Home to Ginny, Ron, Hermione, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley- everyone who really cared about him. He’d even welcome Grimmauld Place to this island paradise with its loony ideas about Gods and all that nonsense. He’d have to be mad to believe that load of rubbish! Plumed Serpent, indeed! Didn’t he have enough on his plate already with Voldemort in his head, wanting to kill him? Hadn’t he lost his parents and Sirius to the monster? Wasn’t it enough that he had every Death Eater in England trying to do him in? Didn’t it mean something that he had people around him dying, and that he had to live with the Dursleys for protection, and that he had to be either a victim or a murderer? Was this some sort of cosmic joke - how much more can Harry Potter take before he cracks? He continued to rant to himself as he walked, not caring where he was, how crazy he looked, or how long he’d been walking. Every single thing that had ever gone wrong in his life went through his mind, fuelling his anger. He was so wrapped up in his thoughts, he didn’t even realise that the snake was strangely quiet, even though he was as angry as he had ever been in his life - certainly as angry as he had been a month ago when he had tried to destroy Dumbledore’s office. He had no idea how long he walked. It could have been minutes or hours. Time held no meaning. He practically sprinted past buildings and archways, winding through courtyards and breezeways - his anger no less diminished - until he was standing in front of the massive pyramid at the very heart of the city. There, he stopped short. For the first time since leaving Stephen’s house, he knew where he was. Looking straight up, he took in the gigantic stone structure with its massive carvings of unusual snake-like creatures and thousands of stone steps leading up to the top of the five-tier structure. Without thinking, he began to climb. He must have climbed for hours because when he finally reached the top he was sweating profusely, totally out of breath, and dead tired. The sun was beginning to dip into the horizon. His anger had finally diminished, probably from the physical exertion of the climb. The view from the top of the pyramid was fantastic and well worth the climb. Turning around, he sat down on the ledge to catch his breath. He could see the entire island from here. Harry realised that the island was actually much bigger than he had originally thought and consisted of one main island with several smaller islands surrounding it. The smaller islands were more like small plots of land that didn’t look natural. Harry guessed they had been made by the natives to grow and harvest crops, from the looks of them. He sat there for a long time looking out at the horizon and the city below, trying not to think of anything other than how beautiful it was. He suddenly wished with every fibre of his being that Ginny were there with him. He missed Ron and Hermione, too, but Ginny would really appreciate the scene set before him. The old, familiar feeling of loneliness washed over him and he stood abruptly to try and squash it. He didn’t want to feel that right now. Walking over to the large stone temple that stood atop the pyramid, he examined the stone carvings with fascination. They were like long coiled snakes, only there were feathers carved around the heads. The snakes appeared to be guarding the door. The door itself did not appear to have any handles and when Harry tried to open it, he found that it would not budge. He tried everything he could think of but eventually grew frustrated with his inability to move the thing. He assumed that it was magically locked, and he couldn’t even try a simple Alohamora without his missing wand. He’d have to remember to ask Hunter about it when he saw him next. The git owed him that, at least. Looking up at the snakes, he suddenly had an idea. Remembering the door that led to the Chamber of Secrets, he focused on the snakes, imagining that they were real. Holding that image in his mind, he spoke the word ‘open’ in what he hoped was Parseltongue. It was always very difficult to tell if the words that came out of his mouth were English or Parseltongue, but regardless, he was shocked to see the door swing forward, allowing him entrance. It was very dark inside the temple, but torches flared to life for him as he passed through the entranceway, illuminating more carvings, stone columns, and statues scattered about the spacious room. The building had very high ceilings, and Harry was surprised that it consisted of only one room. He had expected several, judging from the size of the building. In the middle of the room was a stone platform - a dais that had an open skylight directly above. Fascinated, Harry found himself walking up the steps and standing in the centre of the dais, staring up at the star-riddled night sky. He was suddenly very tired. Practically falling down, he lay down on the stone dais and stretched out on his back, looking up into the heavens, wondering what Ginny was doing at that very moment. He was so sleepy. She felt so close… He could feel her essence surrounding him, filling him. If only… she was here… now. **************************************** ******************* Harry blinked. He was not lying down anymore, he was standing. It was so bright it seemed to be in the middle of the afternoon. Sunlight was pouring into the windows from every angle, blinding him. He shielded his eyes and found that he was still on top of the temple. No… that wasn’t right. It had been twilight when he climbed up here. He remembered falling asleep. Had he slept that long? Suddenly he became aware of something. He turned around quickly and scanned the statues dotted throughout the temple, searching. His keen eyes avoided the sun and searched for any sign of movement, like they did during a Quidditch game when he was hunting desperately for the Snitch. He felt it again. Stealthily, he tiptoed over to a large statue in the corner. Trying to be as quick as humanly possible, he faked to the left and then flung himself to the right, grabbing hold of something as it tried to streak past. His fingers found the hem of a soft nightgown as he dove. They both tumbled to the ground, laughing. “Thought you’d get away, did you?” he said happily when he could speak. “That was a tricky move, Potter,” Ginny said, still laughing and feeling very out of breath as a result of being pinned underneath him. She practically glowed with happiness. “How did you know I was there?” He shrugged. “I just knew,” he said, grinning. “You’ll never be able to hide from me, you know.” Ginny giggled. “A girl can try, can’t she?” Harry grew serious. “I missed you.” She also became solemn. “I missed you too.” They both seemed to realise at the same time the predicament they were in. Harry was slightly on top of her and she was pinned to the ground by the weight of his body. Her nightgown was very thin, as were his island clothes. They were so light it felt as if there was almost nothing at all between them. Harry felt his body stir and knew that she had felt it too. She looked up at him, wide-eyed and innocent but sombre and serious. The desire was evident in both their faces. Not caring how it had happened - not taking the time to question the circumstances they now found themselves in - Harry brought his mouth to hers swiftly. She opened her mouth to him at once, as if her very life depended on it. He rolled her over so that she was on top of him and he was lying on the stone floor, giving her a more comfortable position. When they broke apart she grinned impishly. “I have you where I want you,” she said from on top, her ginger hair streaming down. She pinned his hands behind his head. “You can have me wherever and whenever you like Miss Weasley,” he said huskily, staring at her mouth and not fighting. She kissed him again, passionately, and released his hands. They immediately came up around her waist and encircled her small frame then trailed up to get tangled in her long mane of red hair. Merlin, she felt good! “Ginny?” he asked weakly when they came up for air. “Are we dreamwalking again?” “Yes,” she said with certainty, “although I have no idea where we are this time.” They sat up reluctantly and looked around. “This is Tlilli Tlapalla. We’re on top of the pyramid.” She looked confused. “Where?” “That’s where I am,” he said. “The island of Tlilli Tlapalla.” He stood up and helped her to her feet. As they walked around looking at their surroundings, Harry tried to fill her in on everything he knew up to this point. He deliberately avoided any mention of Masaya and that whole mess, though. There was no way he was getting into it now. Ginny could yell at him later. He wasn’t wasting one moment of his time with her arguing. When he had finished, she looked at him warily. “What are you leaving out, Harry James Potter?” she asked suspiciously, crossing her arms. He stammered. “N-nothing,” he said innocently. He hoped. “Nothing, my foot!” she said with an angry stamp. “You’re hiding something from me!” “No, not really-” he began. Knowing she could feel his attempts to conceal the truth, he admitted, “Well, yes. There is one little thing…” “I knew it!” she said. “Is it something bad? Something to do with Voldemort?” “Nothing like that,” he answered evasively. “Are you in danger?” she asked quietly. “No more than usual,” he said. “But if it’s all the same with you, I’d rather not discuss it. I just ran into a small snag here. It’s something I don’t want you to worry about - nothing I can’t handle. Please, Ginny. Just trust me on this. When it’s all worked out, I promise I’ll tell you.” She looked at him hard for a few minutes before she spoke. “All right, then,” she said, shrugging her shoulders casually. He was taken aback. He had expected her to fight him on this, and was extremely surprised that she had not. He didn’t feel any animosity or anger from her at all. Just curiosity. “Why are you so surprised?” she asked him. Harry laughed. “Dunno. Maybe because I know how stubborn you can be.” “Stubborn, yes. Nosey, no. If you don’t want to tell me Harry, I can accept that. As long as you tell me the important things, I can live with a few secrets.” Against his will, he felt a wave of guilt followed by a wave of suspicion that was not his own. There were still a few major secrets he was keeping from her — including the prophecy, and the thought weighed heavily on his mind. He was a mass of conflicted emotions. He wanted to tell her, but he was afraid of the consequences. Afraid for her safety. If Voldemort ever found out she knew, then she’d be in even greater danger. “There’s something else, isn’t there? Please don’t be afraid to tell me Harry,” Ginny said. He could feel her fear for his safety, but her determination and strength as well. “You’re better off not knowing,” he told her quietly. He could sense her frustration. “Why? Because I’m such a baby that I can’t take care of myself?” she said. The anger in her voice was backed up by her emotions which ripped through him violently. He felt the heat of her prickling anger and the indignation that he was keeping something important from her. But he also sensed that she was conflicted. She didn’t want to feel angry with him and was feeling guilty because of it. “Look, Gin,” he said, using her shortened name and a calm voice to try to sooth her anger. “This has to do with the prophecy that Neville smashed when we were are the Ministry. I know what it said, but Voldemort doesn’t. At least, he doesn’t know all of it. As far as I know, only Dumbledore and I know the whole thing. If I tell you, then you might be in even more danger than you already are.” His eyes and his heart pleaded with her to understand. “Harry,” she said gently, placing a hand on his arm. “I understand your concern, but think about it. He probably thinks I already know. I’m already in danger.” Harry could feel her grow serious and a cold chill spread through him. “On second thought, Harry, don’t tell me.” “What!” he exclaimed. “But you just said-” She moved her hand to his chest. “If I don’t know, he can’t force me to tell. Even under Veritaserium. Whatever was in that glass ball was important. Important enough for my father to almost die protecting it. Important enough that Dumbledore wanted it guarded. If it’s that important, then I shouldn’t know.” Harry marvelled at her bravery and common sense. He felt a rush of something… something unnameable flow through him. It was not coming from her; it was coming from him. Whatever it was, he felt the same emotion flowing back into him. It was such a wonderful and complete feeling, that his face heated up and his stomach did a little leap. He watched as her face glowed pink. Then he felt an emotion he recognized. Happiness. It was a wonderful feeling and erased all the doubt, anger, and suspicion from moments earlier. He smiled and she returned the smile wholeheartedly. Taking her hand in his, he led her to the door of the temple. “Where are we going?” she asked. “I want you to see something.” He led her outside to the spot where he had rested earlier. It looked exactly as he remembered it. He felt her awe and excitement and appreciation and wonder at the sight that beheld them from atop the 400 foot pyramid. Feeling her emotions only intensified his own, renewing his similar feelings from earlier. The sun was dipping down into the ocean, casting a red and gold glow on the city below. The horizon was a mixture of so many different colours; it was as if a painter had used every beautiful colour on his palate to make it just for them. They stayed there for a long time just drinking in the sight, wrapped in each others arms. For a moment, the world slipped away and they were free. *************************************** ******************* He woke up with a pain in his neck from the odd position he had lain in on the floor. It was late and the room was dark except for the faint glow of the torch light and the full moon overhead. Slowly, Harry stumbled to his feet and looked up just as a bright ray of moonlight hit him full in the face. Suddenly, the room began to spin. He was so surprised, he let out a small squeak as he tried desperately to keep his balance. It wasn’t long before he realised that not only was he spinning, but the dais he was standing on was sinking. He tried to move his legs to jump off but, unfortunately, his feet were locked into place. Harry knew he was in trouble. He shouldn’t be here. It hadn’t even occurred to him that coming into the temple was something he shouldn’t be doing. He had just been acting on instinct. Unfortunately, his instinct usually involved breaking a lot of rules and getting himself into trouble. As the dais fell, he wondered what he would find waiting for him at the bottom and a wave of fear encased him. When the spinning stopped, he found himself in a whole different room. This room was much smaller than the one above. It was empty, except for several unusual stone carvings placed at opposite sides of the enclosed space. They looked almost like poles or columns and resembled humans, but were so mixed up he didn’t know what they were supposed to be. For some reason, the thought struck him that the statues were placed north, south, east, and west with the dais positioned directly in the middle of the room. He didn’t know how he knew, but he was certain he was right. He tried to move away, but his feet were still held firm. As he was trying to think of a way out of this situation, a bright beam of moonlight from high above bathed him in a soft, yellow light through the opening in the ceiling. At the same time, the statues surrounding him came alive, opening their old, stone eyes and mouths as if they had not done so in centuries. The one to the north spoke first, causing his heart to almost stop beating in shock and fear. “Do not be afraid, My Prince,” it said in a grating, ancient voice. Harry noticed its eyes were white. “We will not harm you.” Harry relaxed enough to ask, “Who- who are you?” He still continued to struggle to free himself. “We are the Ancient Ones who made this island,” the statue to the East said, its yellow eyes blazing. “We have been asleep for a very long time waiting for you.” “Why have you been waiting to talk to me?” he asked in surprise. He had to get out of here! “You are the Chosen One,” the statue to the South said. The statues red eyes seemed to cut right through him. “Chosen One? I think you’ve got the wrong bloke. I’m not your Chosen One. You’ve got me mixed up with someone else.” Harry babbled. If he could keep this conversation going, then maybe he’d think of a way to escape. “You are the Warrior of Prophecy, the one chosen to defeat Tezcatlipoca for the final time, vanquishing him from this Earth for all eternity,” the one to the West said. Its eyes were black as onyx. “What makes you think it’s me?” Harry said, stopping his struggle slightly. “You bare the Mark. Only the Chosen One could have awakened us,” the one to the North said. Harry stopped struggling and stared. “Why me?” he asked. The question had been rolling around in his head for years. Here, finally, was someone who could answer it. He had to know. Maybe if he could understand, this would all make sense to him and he could accept it. “You were chosen because of your Power.” It was the Statue to the East speaking now. They seemed to be taking turns speaking, going in a clock-wise pattern. “You hold the Power inside you to vanquish the Evil One from this Earth for all eternity.” “But how am I supposed to do that?” he yelled in frustration. “He’s so much more powerful than I could ever hope to be! I’m just a kid. How am I supposed to defeat him?” “You are more than you believe. Use the Key to unlock your Power. Once your Power is unleashed, you will have all that you need to defeat the Evil One,” the one to the South said. “I don’t understand!” he yelled. “You will,” the one to the West said. “In time, you will understand. It has all been decided.” “Tezcatlipoca is angry because he knows his days are short,” the being to the North said. “He will stop at nothing to keep his hold on this Earth. Beware! The Shadow of the Serpent is your greatest weakness! He will use the Shadow to try to control his destiny.” “What is the Shadow of the Serpent?” Harry asked. “How am I supposed to protect myself if I don’t even know what I’m protecting myself from?” “The Shadow is your greatest weakness,” the one to the East repeated. “Use the Key to defend yourself.” “What Key? Where is this Key? How am I supposed to get it?” Harry asked desperately. “You already have the Key,” the West said. “The Key will unlock your Power.” “Yes, you said that,” Harry said impatiently. “But I still don’t know what this Key is or how to find it.” Why did everything have to come in riddles and double-talk? “Use your heart to find it,” the North said. “You have all that you need, My Prince, to defeat the Evil One.” Without warning, all the statues began talking at once, amplifying their voices in their unity. Harry’s heart was hammering in his chest as he listened. It was so loud he thought his eardrums might burst. “Accept our Gifts, Mighty Quetzalcoatl, and let it protect you in the coming Dark Days. Use the Key to unleash your Power and vanquish Tezcatlipoca, once and for all. Let all who see the Light know that Plumbed Serpent has returned!” Suddenly, the eyes of the statues glowed green. As one, they opened their mouths and brilliant white light shot out of each one, straight into Harry. He was hit by the beams from all four directions, taking him completely by surprise. Then world went black. ************************************** ********************* Stephen had been searching for Harry for what seemed like hours. He had no idea where the boy could have gone and was beginning to get worried. The moon was just beginning to settle into the night sky and he had searched everywhere he could think of, to no avail. Harry had just disappeared. He silently berated himself for teasing the boy. He didn’t know Harry well, and obviously the teenager was under a great deal of stress. Of course he would be angry! Had he stopped to think about it, he wouldn’t like to be the target of someone else’s poor excuse for a joke either. Not about something so serious. Hunter knew Harry was no ordinary boy and had not lived a conventional life, but he had not considered how fragile his emotions were until he had stormed out. He had tried not to think about the boy since leaving England. When Voldemort had murdered his wife and son, he had wanted revenge. Killing Voldemort became a personal mission. Unfortunately, Harry Potter beat him to it. All these years some small part of him had held it against the boy. It was unfair, really, now that he thought about it. Harry had been a baby, not much older than his son, Adam, when he had defeated the Dark Lord. In the process the boy had lost the two people who cared most about him - his parents. From the little he knew, Harry’s life had not been easy. He could see it in his eyes. Harry may have survived, but Voldemort had shattered his life just as much as he had his own. Hunter was making his way towards the middle of the city when he saw it. A bright, green light erupted from the top of the pyramid. That could only mean one thing. Suddenly, the sky darkened. Thunder and lightening crashed, and the ground shook slightly. The people all around the city were coming out of their houses and looking up towards the temple, which was still emitting a glowing green beam of light from inside. The people around him began to talk excitedly among themselves, shouting and pointing, fear and awe evident on their faces. Taking this as his cue, Hunter Apparated to the summit of the pyramid. *************************************** ********************* Ages past scrolled through his head and he saw history, not as men believed it but as it actually was. The enemy was making his move again and it was time. The people needed him and he would answer the call. He soared in the heavens, circling and diving, searching. Time was growing short and he needed to find the Key before it was too late. Why was it so elusive? The mist was blocking his view, hiding the answer. He had to break through the mist before his enemy found him, or it would be too late. He knew the snake was looking for the Key, too. If the snake found the Key first, all would be lost, and his people would die. He could not allow that to happen! His enemy would not win…could not win. He would never allow that to happen! All he needed to do was to find it first. He knew he was close…so close…. ************************************** ********************** When he came to, he was once again in his room at Stephen’s. The situation felt very familiar, but this time it was still night so there was no sun streaming in on his face from the open window. It appeared to be in the middle of the night - he couldn’t be sure without a watch - because his room was dark except for a faint glow of candlelight coming from his bedside table. Once again, he heard drumming and chanting coming from far off, but he didn’t find that especially unusual now. His body felt stiff and sore. Thankfully, the pain was not from his scar this time but it was spread all over his body - like he had been hit by a very powerful stunner. He heard feet shuffling and a door open and close, but he didn’t see anything. Feeling around, his hand came across his glasses. The dimly lit room soon came into focus, and he saw something that made him gasp. Two identical, bracelets now covered his wrist area on both hands. The bands were made up of funny symbols, something like runes, and each wrist had an exact replica of the four statues he had encountered in the temple. He tried to take them off but found them immovable. They wouldn’t budge. Thankfully, they weren’t uncomfortable, although they did feel funny on his arms because he wasn’t used to wearing anything but a wristwatch. He swore loudly in frustration at his unsuccessful attempts to rid himself of the damned things, but thankfully no one was around to hear him. He finally gave up. Examining himself further, he also discovered a green, swirl mark like a tattoo in the middle of his chest. It was about four inches in length and sat dead centre on his chest. It sort of resembled a coiled snake or a conch shell, and Harry stared at it in fascination wondering how he had gotten it. Hunter strode into the room, without bothering to knock. Harry frantically looked around for something to cover his bare chest. “Don’t bother. I’ve already seen it,” he told Harry, pulling a chair up to the side of the bed. “What I’m more curious about is why you went up there in the first place.” “Dunno,” Harry said with a shrug. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.” He didn’t want to tell the man that he climbed the pyramid because he was trying to get as far away from him as possible. “Harry, do you know what that place is?” Hunter asked, his eyes serious. “No,” Harry answered. “Not really. I mean, I know it’s a pyramid and that there’s a temple or something on top, but that’s all I know.” “It’s more than that, Harry,” Hunter said. His voice held an odd edge to it. He seemed apprehensive - like he wasn’t sure how Harry was going to take the news. “It’s the Temple of the Plumbed Serpent. In other words, it’s Quetzalcoatl’s temple. How did you get in, anyway? It’s kept locked and only the priests know how to enter.” Harry looked away. “I think I got in by speaking Parseltongue.” When Harry stole a glance, he observed that Hunter looked floored. Obviously no one had told him that he was a Parselmouth. “Well,” he said, shocked. “I suppose that’s one way to do it. Have you always had that ability?” Harry shrugged. “I think so. At least since… well, since Voldemort gave me this,” he said, pointing to his scar. “Dumbledore thinks he transferred some of his powers to me when he tried to kill me.” “I wonder what else he transferred to you,” Hunter mused. “What do you mean?” Harry asked. He had never thought much about it before. “Voldemort’s a very talented Legilimens,” Hunter said. “He also uses dreamwalking on his captives to gain insight into their thoughts and memories, or to inspire fear in them. He can possess people, and he was always known for his academic skills, especially in Divination and Potions. Those are just a few of his talents.” “Well, I don’t know about Legilimency. If it’s anything like Occlumency I doubt I’d be that great at it. I found out recently that I can dreamwalk.” He blushed at the memory of his previous dreamwalking experiences. For some reason, though, he didn’t feel comfortable discussing Ginny with Hunter. “But I’ve never tried to possess anyone - nor would I ever want to. I’m terrible at Divination, fair at Transfiguration and Charms, but Potions is my worst subject. Trelawney says I am ‘sorely lacking in the Inner Eye,’” he said, imitating Trelawney’s whispy voice, “and Snape just plain hates me. Defence Against the Dark Arts is my best subject. I do okay in Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures, too, but I wouldn’t say I’m good at them.” “We should do some experiments to see what exactly you’re capable of,” Hunter said, once again reminding him of Hermione. She always got that excited, determined gleam in her eye when she was trying to solve a problem. “What I’d like to hear about now, though, is what happened in the temple.” He nodded towards the new tattoo that adorned his body. Harry spent the next half hour describing in as much detail as possible what had happened after he had entered the temple, minus his dreamwalk with Ginny. Hunter asked questions, but allowed Harry to tell the story at his own pace and in his own words, only interrupting for clarification. When he was done, Hunter sat back in his chair and surveyed him closely. “What do you think about the prophecy now, Harry?” he asked. He didn’t sound condescending or particularly gloating. He almost seemed as if he were concerned. “I don’t know what to think,” Harry said truthfully. “It seems surreal, really. As if it was a dream. If I didn’t have these,” he said, lifting up his wrists, “I’d think I imagined it. What do you think these are, do you suppose?” “I’ll have to consult my books, but unless I’m mistaken that tattoo on your chest is what the natives call ehecailacozcatl, or ‘wind jewel’. It is the symbol for divine breath - a gift from the Gods - and hasn’t been seen in centuries.” Harry frowned, looking down at his chest. “How do I get rid of it?” he asked. Hunter looked surprised. “Why would you want to?” he asked. “If that’s really what it is, legend says it has wonderful magical properties - the least of which, is to act as a conduit to amplify your innate magical power. It could come in very handy.” “I guess I’m stuck with it then,” Harry grumbled. “What about these?” he said, indicating his wrists. “I know what those are for sure,” he said confidently. “Remember when I said that the Mixtec people supposedly had a secret power that could revolutionize the Wizarding World?” Harry nodded. “Well, this is it.” “What do they do?” Harry asked. “They act in the same way as our wands by focusing our magical power. In this case, the power is focused through the arm with the hand serving as the conduit. The bands allow the person using them to perform all sorts of wandless magic, but there are still a few spells which I have found work better with a wand. “The natives receive their bands at puberty - roughly the same age we begin Hogwarts — and start their magical training with the priests and scribes. I was given mine shortly after arriving here,” he said, pulling up his sleeve to reveal his bands, which Harry had seen but not thought much about. Hunter’s bands were plainer than his own and made entirely of hemp and ruins. “What do these mean?” Harry asked, pointing to the funny symbols. “They’re hieroglyphics made from the bones of magical animals. Hence, the magical properties — similar to the cores of our wands. They’re specific to each individual,” Hunter answered. “Most relate to the person’s character, but there is some Divination involved. The Priests are responsible for crafting the bands and I can’t even begin to understand how it happens. The technology was passed down from the Ancient Ones and is a closely guarded secret. “I’d have to consult my books to interpret yours,” he said, “although I can tell you that theses figures here,” he said pointing to the replicas of the statues, “represent the four directions and correspond to the four basic elements. It may be that you have the ability to perform some elemental magic. ” “Elemental magic?” Harry said incredulously. “Like what?” “That’s difficult to say,” Hunter said. “The elements you have represented in your bands are earth, wind, water, and fire. I have some idea what that entails, but we’ll have to do some tests to be sure.” Noting Harry’s downcast demeanour, he added, “That is, if you’re all right with all this.” Harry shrugged. It was too much to take in. “I don’t really have a choice, do I?” he said. Hunter put a hand on Harry shoulder and forced the boy to look him in the eye. “We all have choices, Quetzal. It’s what we do with those choices that matter.” Harry looked at him sharply at the use of the foreign name, wondering if he was making fun of him again. “Why did you call me that?” he growled. Hunter faltered. He wasn’t sure what made him say it. It just sort of slipped out. “I-I don’t know,” he said truthfully. “It just seems to fit you, I think.” He paused before he continued, trying to formulate his thoughts. “The quetzal is a small bird with a big destiny. It is an emerald bird, so stunning that people can’t help but look at it and marvel at its beauty and dignity. Mesoamerican kings used its green feathers to decorate their headdresses and sceptres, trying to emulate the majesty of the bird. To the ancient Mayas the quetzal symbolized beauty, freedom, and wealth. Freedom, because a quetzal will die in captivity; wealth, because the Mayas were traders, and quetzal feathers along with jade were their most sought after treasures. “You already have the nobility — a trait you get from your father. I can see your mother’s beauty in your eyes and the way you carry yourself. The colour of your eyes is strikingly similar to the quetzal bird and was one of the first things I noticed about you.” His blue eyes bore into those wide, green eyes now, testifying to his sincerity. “You are already very valuable to both sides of this war, and the price on your head is going up the longer you survive. But,” he paused for emphasis, “it’s the freedom that makes me think of you when I see the quetzal bird.” “What do you mean?” Harry asked. Hunter grimaced. “Whether you know it or not, Dumbledore has kept you caged your whole life, Harry. He has held you back and given you half-truths, calling it protection.” Harry averted his eyes. He hated to be disloyal, but some part of him knew Hunter was right. Hunter put his hand over Harry’s and patted it in a fatherly way. “Quetzals are meant to be free, Harry. And one day soon, you will break free. When you leave your past behind and start living life on your own terms, I have no doubt in my mind that you will soar.” He thought about asking Hunter not to call him that, but some small part of him liked that someone had given him a nickname born of hope. He really needed to believe that one day he could be free. Free of Voldemort, free to love Ginny, free to live. He imagined that Sirius might have said something similar, if he had been there. Instead of protesting the use of the nickname, he said nothing. He’d have to think about it a while longer. Once again, Hunter paused before he spoke, letting his words sink in. “Harry,” he said slowly. “I need to apologize to you for my behaviour earlier. It wasn’t very nice of me to spring that whole marriage thing on you like I did. I really never stopped to consider how you must be feeling. From now on, I’ll pay more attention.” He looked at the boy intently. “I’d never let anyone force something on you that you didn’t want. This is your life and your destiny. You have the right to marry whomever you want. Frankly, Masaya would not be my choice, either. Just know that my role in all this is to help you, to teach you, and to protect you. I promise I’ll do a better job of it in future.” There didn’t seem to be any malice in the older man’s face, just sincerity, affection, and concern. Harry was struck by the thought that not many adults had ever looked at him that way. Certainly he could count the people in his life that truly cared about him on both hands. Just a few hours ago he would never have guessed that Hunter would be one of those people. Harry nodded that he understood. “Get some sleep,” Hunter told the boy quietly. He had seen the play of emotions on Harry’s face and knew he needed some time to process it all. “We’ll explore this more in the morning.” “All right,” Harry said softly. As he watched Hunter leave the room and close the door silently behind him, he felt grateful that someone was there with him. Suddenly, an overwhelming sadness engulfed him. If only he were Sirius…. All at once, he felt very tired. Sleep… Sleep seemed like a very good idea. A very good idea, indeed…. As he slept, his dreams were full of mist and visions, park benches and snakes - things he could not understand. Every so often he would see Ginny’s face. She was smiling and calling out to him from far away, but he couldn’t understand what she was trying to tell him. It seemed important. He tried yelling back, but she couldn’t hear him, either. Then the mist would come, and once again he was lost in the oppressive thickness. The only sound that made any sense at all was an evil voice deep in his subconscious. An evil voice who hissed seductive lies. [A/N: The information about the quetzal bird was taken almost word for word from http://www.travellog.com/guatemala/quetz al.html . ] Pronunciation guide (but please don’t take this as gospel, it’s just my best guess) Xolotl: She-o-lot-l Quetzal: ket-sal Quetzalcoatl: ket-sal-co-a-tal Tezcatlipoca: tez-cat-lip-o-ca Tlilli Tlapalla: t-lil-li t-lap-a-la Tecuhtl: te-cute-l Masaya: ma-say-a Tlaloc: tal-lock Chac: ch-ock Chuen: chew-an Popol Vuh: po-pole v-ah Mixtec: mix-tec |
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