Chapter 114 - Crossover Fanfiction 16 - Harry Potter, Son of the Shadows (1/2)
Plot: Twice-Blessed Half-Blood Response: Olympus, Earth, the Underworld; from a world of lies, one shall come forth with the power to rule them all. Enter Harry Potter, determined by Thanatos, Champion of Hecate, son of…wait: is that possible? Dark Godlike
Pairing: Harry/Thalia;
Chapter 1: Truth In Death
Harry couldn't move;
In his entire life, he had never felt as frightened as he did at that moment, but then again, he'd never been staring down the claws and jaws of a fully-grown werewolf before either, his worst Professor having been knocked out and his best friends stepping out of the way with cowardice and fear in their eyes.
As the werewolf stood on its hind quarters, Harry felt Hermione brush past him, her intentions showing courage and a hint of stupidity: maybe it was the friendship he felt towards her, but Harry couldn't let her go.
Grabbing her arm, he pulled her back before he whispered, ”Let me, I'm his cub.”
With fear in her eyes, Hermione stepped aside, watching as Harry approached the lupine creature, his voice trembling, but not so much that he couldn't speak.
Facing the wolf, Harry asked, ”Moony? Are you in there?”
The wolf seemed to inspect him for a moment, his eyes fixed on Harry with curiosity and surprise as he saw the boy in front of him.
”Do you…do you recognise me?” asked Harry, his voice trembling again as he saw the claws and fangs of the wolf.
They would be the last thing he ever saw…before Remus/Moony pounced and, sinking his fangs into Harry's shoulder, he let out a triumphant howl as the blood of the young wizard filled his jaws, the taste way too good for the wild-hearted predator to give up on now.
All anyone could do was watch in horror as Remus gorged himself on Harry's corpse, the full moon being the final thing Harry saw as Death came for him.
Son of the Shadows
'Harry…'
A voice, so soft and sibilant that it could have been made of the purest silk, seemed to reach through the darkness.
'Harry…wake up, Harry…you have slept too long, little one.'
”S-Slept?” asked Harry, feeling the dryness of his throat while he also felt a strange, comfortable warmth beneath him.
'Yes child,' the voice answered, its tone soft and comforting to Harry as it explained, 'This is not where the next great adventure welcomes you: now, open your eyes…look upon the world.'
Opening his eyes, Harry felt shock and disbelief settle into him as he found himself looking at the ceiling of the Great Hall, a strong floral smell clinging to his nostrils while, around him, there were several candles burning low and an eerie, everlasting silence that clung to the Great Hall like spider webs.
As he tried to think about what was going on, Harry's eyes widened when he realised that his eyesight was also visible to him and yet he couldn't feel his glasses on his face. Risking the mother of all aches, the young, and very confused wizard reached up to his face: sure enough, his eyes were devoid of those horrible glasses that the Dursleys had bought for him and yet he could see clear as day.
'You will find more than just your sight restored, my child,' the soft voice whispered, a man's voice, Harry then noticed: yet, as he listened, a shiver ran down Harry's spine at how soft and yet comforting the voice sounded.
”What…what happened?” asked Harry softly, his voice calm, but edged with concern as he asked, ”How did I get here when, last thing I remember, I was being…being…eaten by…by Moony?”
He made a face at the thought, but the voice that answered just chuckled before he explained to Harry, 'I saved you, little one: your destiny is greater than you know and more than others may suspect. For now, lie back and rest and the truth shall come to you: when I say so, rise up and reveal your livelihood to those who doubt it. Then, my child, have fun…and get out as fast as you can.'
”But…” Harry began, but his words were cut off as he heard voices from the other side of the Great Hall doors; lying back down, a part of him almost amused at the thought of the prank that was about to be played, Harry whispered softly, ”Who are you?”
'I am Thanatos, my child,' the voice answered, his tone comforting Harry and helping to ease some of the tension as he added, 'And I am here to help you…until your true self is known to them.'
Harry would have asked what the voice, Thanatos, meant by that, but he didn't get the chance as the door to the Great Hall opened and, from the other side, two familiar voices drifted down to Harry's ears.
”Ronald, this is wrong! Think about what Harry would say,” the female voice, the warm, sisterly voice of Hermione Granger, hissed under her breath, the tone clear to Harry: agitation and fear.
”He wouldn't say anything,” Ronald Weasley insisted, ”He'd just lead us to another near-death experience: if it hadn't been for Sirius, we'd be dead and that wolf would have devoured us next. No, this time, I'm getting what I deserve.”
'If only he knew,' chuckled Thanatos, something about the comment making Harry's lip twitch, but he managed to avoid keeping it on his face as he closed his eyes, listening to the voices of his friends as they neared where he was lying.
”But stealing from him?” asked Hermione, the mention of the word bringing a sense of anger to Harry that he bȧrėly managed to hold back as he listened. ”What for, Ron? Don't you know that Harry risked it for our sakes? And what about Ginny?”
”What about her?” asked Ron, his tone as cold and selfish as a certain other student Harry knew and loathed, ”She's been acting all weird since the incident in the Chamber and you know it's because of him, Hermione. He probably worked with You-Know-Who to trap her: if he hadn't died, it would have only been a matter of time before he turned Ginny into his slave.”
”Harry would never do that,” Hermione argued, ”He'd talk it over with Ginny, you know that: what happened down there, if anything, was your fault, not his.”
”What do you mean my fault?” asked Ron.
”Wormtail was your pet,” Hermione insisted, ”How a family as old as yours couldn't even tell that they had an Animagus living under their roof, I'll never know.”
”You mean you don't know?” asked Ron, ”It's Harry: his family trusted the rat, they probably told him how to hide himself: ever since he spoke Parseltongue, I've always thought that he was a Dark Wizard.”
”Harry saved your life, Ronald,” Hermione exclaimed, her voice almost a shriek as she hissed, ”If it hadn't been for him, you'd be Acromantula Bait.”
”And you'd be dead too,” Ron argued, ”The Basilisk, the troll, which I saved you from, I might add, and then the corridor: what did you two talk about down there anyway?”
”I told him a secret,” Hermione explained, knowing that she'd never confess to Ron now about what she'd told Harry: not if this was his answer to his best mate's death. ”One that I'll never repeat to anyone, no matter what they do to me.”
”And now he's dead, you don't have to keep that promise,” Ron told her, his words turning calm and surprisingly affectionate as he explained, ”You can tell me, Hermione: I'll always look out for you and, with Harry's fortunes under our control, I'll have the means to treat you like a…ack!”
Harry didn't need to open his eyes to know that Hermione had just kneed Ron in the groin: he'd seen enough of Uncle Vernon's violent films to know the sound and reaction, though the high-pitched whɨnė from the red-head magpie-minded idiot told him enough.
”You don't touch me, Ronald Weasley,” Hermione scowled, her voice as cold as ice as she hissed, ”You're vile if you think you'll get away with this: I'll tell Sirius what you've done. As Harry's godfather…”
There was a sudden gasp and, without realising it, Harry's hands had curled into fists as he heard Ron tell Hermione, ”You won't be telling anyone anything, you filthy little Mudblood…”
'Whenever you're ready, Harry…'
”Let go of her right now or you will pay for what you've just said,” Harry snarled, the words causing a gasp from Hermione while Ron turned, his eyes wide with shock as, much in the style of a certain sportsman he'd seen on television last summer, Harry rose from the coffin like a zombie, his eyes cold and dark while his expression was one of rage.
Ron, his hand currently wrapped around Hermione's arm in a grip of fury and cold intentions, released her and fled to the door; however, without really knowing how or why he knew what to do, Harry gestured with one hand, causing the doors of the Great Hall to slam shut.