Harry Potter: Rise of The Iron Magus Supremus
Disclaimers: see the first page...
Summary: Lord Voldemort’s search for more power led him to the myth of the all-powerful grimoire: The Necronomicon. In his quest, he accidentally freed something else entirely. Now, Harry Potter; by a strange twist of fate, came across the very first book of magic created by Magic itself. …and this will lead Harry to battle alongside Xander and his allies as he learns what it means to be the Magius Supreme. Set after Goblet of Fire.
"Signs of The Storm"
Harry awoke with a start as he rose to a sitting position abruptly. His face was pale and his were eyes glazed with sleep while he wildly scanned the room. He shook his head as he took of his shirt and ran it over his sweat-drenched face, he recognized where he was. He was still back in Dudley’s old toy room. He shivered unconsciously as he remembered how cold it felt when the Dementors came closer as he tried to fight them off. He shivered once more from the phantom chill as he remembered a voice calling out to him before he went under. Unlike those times he had heard the voice of his parents whenever the Dementors were near, the voice he heard this time was different.
Then he remembered seeing a young girl staring at him from a distance before it all went black.
…But in that blackness, a bright blue-white light had erupted.
He stopped at that thought, since when did losing consciousness start affecting him like that? He shrugged it off as he slowly got out of bed, feeling a lot more tired than a person who had just recently woke up.
“That was the strangest dream ever.” He said as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Not even my usual nightmares were that strange.”
He barely got beyond a good two feet from the bed when he saw a figure occupying the chair by the study table in the corner of his room. He froze.
It was her! The girl from his dream, she was here!
She had lavender hair! He paused at that as he gaped
“It was no dream, Magius.” The way she spoke made the sound of her voice wash over him, caressing him.
The he remembered he had taken of his shirt earlier and was now clad only in his boxers.
Al Azif blinked; the boy was impressively fast, he had seemingly teleported from where he stood to appear back in his bed with the covers up to his neck as he gawked at her with a red face and wide eyes.
Interesting, she thought to herself.
“It’s you!” Harry pointed at her in shock. “That wasn’t a dream?”
She nodded as she stood and moved closer to the young man.
“No, it was not.” She confirmed with a shake of her head. “We both made a choice at that moment. You accepted the terms of the contract, even though it was under duress, both our souls found it valid.”
“What contract?” Harry squeaked.
“Do you not remember?” Al asked with concern.
Harry shook his head as he tried to recall the images from his dream…. No, not a dream, they were images from memory. He shut his eyes and tried to force every single detail back into the forefront of his mind.
They came rushing back with a vengeance.
A bright bluish-white light engulfed Harry; time seemed to pause as a chorus of voices surrounded him and chanted words in a forgotten tongue. Ancient, unintelligible glyphs appeared amongst the outburst of light and proceeded to enter his body at odd angles while the chanting continued.
His mind tried to make sense of it all, but all it knew that whatever was around him carried an immeasurable amount of power. If left unchecked, it would destroy everything.
Then the unknown words started to make a little sense.
“….with this binding contract between…” the voices intoned. “….nevermore… unbroken… Al Azif, grimoirium Arcana Magicka Maxima… Harry Potter, Magius Supremus…. Bound for all eternity…. as two souls together become whole… So mote it be!”
Looking for an anchor, Al Azif searched the world for one such anchor. “I seek thee.” Al chanted. “Through storm and fire… Aegis of the defender… sword of the just… who will answer my call… who is worthy…?”
Then she felt a reply, it was lying half-finished and in pieces. The pieces called out to her, its unborn spirit was strong. It was made to protect, to be the ultimate defense against ultimate evil.
“Who art thou?” Al Azif asked, unsure to trust a newborn "soul" for such a task. But she could feel its determination burning brighter than the sun. “Thou art called ‘Demon’s Bane’? Very well, by magick I bind you, craft you into the shape of your choosing….”
As the chanting voices stopped, she thrust out her hands and vanished as the armor took shape and wrapped around the boy as he himself transformed.
“From this day hence, thy new name shall be Demonbane!” Al Azif’s voice echoed in the wind.
The bright light died down as time moved again and Harry could see again, the young man was surprised to find that he had grown to a height of over seven feet. He wore obsidian armor, with red and gold trim the likes of which he had never seen before. It was semi-formfitting, had no seams, and yet he felt as though he could move freely with it not being a hindrance.
Harry felt himself face the Dementors, their chill no longer a bother to him as they shrank back in wariness at the new figure before them.
Harry raised a gauntlet covered arm towards the wraiths and spoke in a voice that did not, in any way, sound like that of a child.
“I am Demonbane.” The not-Harry voice intoned with menace towards the aggressors. “Magius Supremus.”
Eldritch energy crawled over the armored arm, energy that focused onto his fist and then released when Demonbane opened his palms as a blast of pure, raw magick struck the two Dementors with unrelenting force, thoroughly wiping them out of existence forever.
Once the danger had passed, the armor disappeared as Harry returned to normal and slumped down onto the unforgiving pavement, unconscious.
Al Azif reappeared back at her corner of the street saw this and rushed to the downed teen’s side.
Only to stop halfway to hide as she saw a tainted caster, "squibs" they were called today, come across her bonded. Squibs fascinated her, they were clearly evidence that the plague that befell the ancient world had mutated and changed over the eons. While no longer destructive, they almost completely eradicated a person's ability to use magic at birth rather than kill the host outright when the child was born too weak. Those that had been completely hit turned into the muggles of present day.
Al Azif could not detect any ill intent coming from the person coming near, so stayed where she was to observe them as she phased out of reality.
“Harry!” The shout of concern came from Arabella Figg when she saw the teen lying unconscious on the ground. She ran to her house close by to call for help.
Harry opened his eyes. He remembered everything now, about the light, about the armor, about what had happened to the Dementors that were after him, and about finally losing consciousness. He turned his head to one side and his eyes widened when he saw that the lavender-haired girl’s face was mere inches from his own.
He hadn’t even felt her sit down.
The resounding crack on the headboard signaled the teen’s hasty retreat as he tried to bury his head beyond the confines of his bed to get away from the girl whose face was dangerously close to his personal space.
“Uh, hi?” He said weakly as he winced in pain from the impact.
“Hello.” The lavender-haired girl replied and moved closer, her right hand moved up to touch the back of Harry’s head to heal the most recent injury.
“Al Azif?” Harry asked, feeling the healing energy fill his being with peace and warmth.
She nodded. “I am glad to see that you are well, Magius.”
“Um, why are you calling me Magius?” Harry asked, forgetting to ask how she hadn’t been thrown out yet by the Dursleys or his jailors.
“I call you Magius because of our agreement to the binding contract.” Al replied. “I am the grimoirium Arcana Magicka Maxima. I belong to Magick, and to you.”
“I don’t want a slave.” Harry responded automatically, clearly misunderstanding her. “And aren’t grimoires supposed to be spell books or something?”
Al smirked as one elegant lavender eyebrow went up. “I am one.”
“WHAT!” Harry stared.
Al laughed at the bug-eyed expression on Harry’s face.
Back in the Sunnydale, California…
Jarvis ran the scenario again for the seven hundred fiftieth time and still got the same results. The prototype armor had seemingly vanished into thin air. The energy spectrum readings had indicated some sort of unidentifiable summoning spell, but who would want an armor that doesn’t even work? It even wasn’t slated for activation because no one had enough power use it sufficiently. Even Xander wasn’t going to try because he didn’t have enough within him to do so, and locked it away instead.
The young genius never even bothered to put a tracking tag onto the damned thing because it was next to useless and not even completely built.
So where did it go? Not even the Kalderash cousins had knowledge of the armor’s existence; Xander made sure no one did and wiped every data pertaining to it on his public storage databases. The only existing copy was within Jarvis himself.
Unable to formulate a suitable response or result, the frustrated AI locked away the details on the theft within his databanks and vowed to keep an eye out in case the armor popped up some time in the future.
There really wasn’t much the AI could do until Xander got back from wherever he was out there in deep space.
He didn’t even relish the notion of having his circuits fried once Xander found out about it either.
"I am sooo going to be reformatted." He said.
“You can’t be a book!” Harry said as he stared at lavender-haired girl in front of him.
She was a little taller than he was, but not much. Looked to be about his age, give or take a few years. Had almond shaped eyes that made her look a bit Asian, it also made her look exotic. Her face was slightly angular, but with soft curves. She was a little thin and pale, but not much to consider her sickly. The almost virginal white dress she wore clung to her in some places, accentuating an ample chest that made him blush for noticing. The thing that stood out was her hair. It really was lavender-colored and reached down to the back of her knees while some sort of red ribbon weaved in and out of those long tresses, further enhancing the over-all look that made her appear truly exotic.
The stupid part of him wondered if the color of her hair really was a natural lavender as both of Al Azif’s brows had the same hue. Unfortunately, he said that last part out loud and realized it too late.
“Do you really want to know?” Al asked with a smirk.
“Urk!” Harry gurgled, as his face got redder by the second. “I didn’t mean it that way!”
“Despite of my appearance, I am indeed a grimoire.” She repeated. “I am the Arcana Magicka Maxima, the very first grimoire to have existed, created by Earth’s Magick itself.”
Perplexed, Harry asked the most obvious question available to him. “How come we’ve never come across something like that? I mean, we should have heard of something, what with Voldemort wanting to become the most powerful wizard out there along with his Death Eaters.”
“Those common filth could never even begin to understand the power I wield!” Al snarled, startling Harry with her vehemence. “I know those of whom you speak of. Lower caste brutes that have no finesse for spell casting. They butcher the sanctity of the craft available to them. I was wise enough to elude them.”
Taken aback, Harry asked. “What did they do?”
“They were searching for my more infamous condemned twin, but unearthed me instead by pure accident.” She replied.
“You’re twin?” Her Magius inquired.
“Nal Azif.” Al supplied. “You might know her by her more colorful name: The Necronomicon. A demon in the form of a man named Abdul Alhazred copied my darker aspect and gave it life, therefore creating my unintended twin.”
THAT term, Harry knew well, he had come across a reference about that book in the muggle library he went to long ago before he knew about the Wizarding world but always passed it off a fanciful fiction.
“The Necronomicon is real?” He exclaimed.
Al grumbled softly, something Harry no doubt, wasn’t supposed to hear, but the young man heard her anyways.
“Just because she nearly tried to end the world several times… I was the first book damnit! …Bitch released the plague in Atlantis, serves them right for opening her… I always have to clean up after that no good, backstabbing… ARGH!”
That last word she screamed out loud in frustration as she rounded on her Magius. “And you!" She said. "As you are now, you’re still too weak to use me properly. We’ll fix that soon enough.”
“Huh?” Was all Harry could say to that one. “How?”
“Training.” She said, an evil glint emerged from her eyes at the word. “Lots of training. Because if that Voldemort idiot does indeed find her, it’ll be our job to make sure she doesn’t see the light of day! Ever!”
- To Be Continued -
A/N: I hope you like it so far.... As for the Iron Tau'ri, it will be posted later on this week, I am still polishing the rough edges. I just wanted to post this up to get a feel of how people respond to it. Any errors, omissions will be fixed on a "I'll get to it when I can" basis.
And I still can't get that music "Song of Storm and Fire" out of my head... it fits so well with this fic.......
... by the way, the picture of the girl I chose to "portray" AL AZIF is a cos-player whose name I really don't know, but I thought she fit the part. *grin*