In the sky
Title: Green spell
Pairing: Harry/Tsu’tey JakeSully/Neytiri
Summary: Harry ends up on Pandora as a young Na`vi alone in the woods. When he can’t return home he loses himself in his animagus form, an ikran.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything within the Harry Potter world or Avatar. I plan for there to be same sex romance within the story. If you do not wish to be exposed to that kindly move on to another story. I apologize a head of time for any spelling, grammar, or punctuation mistakes.
The spell came out of the darkness. The color of fresh grass and for a second Harry thought it was the Killing Curse. It is too light in color; it didn’t have the same gem acid sparkle, and flowed towards him in a pattern of swirls and eddies like a cutting from a stream rather than a fire of burning emeralds. It wasn’t the Killing Curse and he’s relieved for a moment but still feels a healthy sense of fear and adrenaline as the spell rockets toward him. He wouldn’t be able to get out of the way in time but everything slows down so he can watch the details as the spell claws toward him like a living thing, as he raises his wand in a futile attempt to block, as Ron out of the corner of his eye shoots off a protection spell that would be a second too late. Harry watches every painful detail and can’t look away. His heart beat in his ears.
The spell hit him in the chest and soaks into his flesh. He felt a rush of ice cold course into his heart and through his veins, it chills the air in his lungs seizing them for one breathless moment and when he finally exhales his breath left him in a thick fog, and burning ice crawls into his bones making them ache with every little movement. When the horrible cold ends like the sudden stop of a racecar Harry is on his back looking up into Ron’s wide terrified eyes.
Is he going to die this way, with cold coursing through his marrow on the streets of Knockturn Ally lying in a pool of frigid mud? Did he kill the Dark Lord and go through the training to be an Auror to die on his third mission? Did so many loved ones die for nothing?
No. No they didn’t die for nothing. Harry had seven blissful months of peace. In three months he is to be a godfather to Hermione and Ron’s twins. He is the godfather to Neville and Luna’s daughter Cleo and he’s the godfather to Remus and Tonks child Teddy. The wizarding world is rebuilding itself and everyday another deatheater is captured. He and his friends were offered jobs to teach at the newly rebuilt Hogwarts, a job he was going to take. He and Ginny had started dating again. Kinda.
His vision starts to go dark around the edges. Harry can see Ron panicking shaking him and yelling at him to stay awake, to stay with him. Harry can’t hear him or feel Ron’s hands on his shoulders. The spell is coursing through him fast; he could feel the malevolent energy diving into every cell to overflowing. Harry closes his eyes, he is sure he has felt this angry spiteful magic before. Whoever the slender quick wand caster is he knows him or her, is familiar with the strong-willed magic like only a wizard whose being around the other person for years. The fuzzy image of pale skin and bright eyes appears in his mind like ghost and flits away into the shadows of his mind. He’s so confused and the cold is clawing at him like a hungry monster. Just as his vision starts to go completely Harry sees the scenery changes to the hospital. There are many people around him now, so many faces with intense eyes looking down on him. Hermione’s crying big blue tears. She’s not supposed to be at the hospital today, it’s her day off.
Even in the darkness of sleep the cold of the spell follows like a wayward stray dog.
If he’s honest with himself Harry never expects to wake up again. Sunlight filters through his eyelids and teases and urges him to open his eyes but they don’t budge. His eyes are heavy and anchored down and no matter how he tries they won’t twitch much less open. He tries to move his hands or call out but all of him is paralyzed. He can’t feel anything. He is numb and blind to his world like a newborn kitten and is starting to panic when sound blares to life like an echo in a cave.
“It’s been three day, Mione. You need to rest.” Says Ron with worry easily heard in his voice.
“I need to be here Ron! I’m his healer. I won’t let this spell take Harry from us.” Hermione says passionately.
“Dear, you’re tired. Let the other healers take care of Harry for the night.” Molly spoke kindly from Harry’s right.
Hermione sighs. “One night.”
The twins stop by and tell Harry how WWW is doing and leave a box by his side and something on his wrist. For protection they say. Neville and Luna came after them and Luna places Cleo on his chest. He can’t really feel the wriggling infant but he felt the pressure of her weight. He can’t hold his goddaughter but it felt nice to have her close. “Luna, sweetie, I don’t think the healers will like that. Cleo might make it hard for Harry to breathe.”
“Harry wants her there.” Luna’s dreamy voice echoes in Harry’s ear as if she is inches from it.
When little Cleo’s tiny hand brushes his neck Harry felt her nails scratch his skin, it’s a sharp little pain like the poke of a needle. If he could Harry would have sighed with relief. Touch is returning.
“See. He looks happier.”
“Luna . . . well maybe a little happier.” Neville said with a little doubt in his voice.
Healers came and went all whispering about his health and how sad it was that he was hurt. He heard gossip about a manhunt going on to try and find his attacker. How aurors left vacations early just to return to find his attacker. While two nurses were doing check-up spells on him he heard the first newspaper line. ‘Man-Who-Saved-Us-All Attacked!’ and ‘Deatheater gets Potter!’ and ‘Dark spell likely to kill Hero!’ Harry is a little upset about that one.
It felt like forever when Hermione and Ron returned to his side. “Has there been any change?”
“No, Healer Weasley. He’s been resting comfortably.” A nurse says as she fluffs his pillow.
Hermione brushes a hand through his hair and Harry’s breath hitches at the sensation. “No change?” Hermione says with a frown in her voice. Hermione continues to brush a hand through his hair and Ron grabs one of his hands. “Harry? Can you hear me, mate?”
Harry wants to answer her but he still has no voice.
“If you can hear me Harry listen to me carefully. The spell that hit you is considered very dark. The entire spell was originally designed as a transportation spell. A last ditch effort to get away from great peril. It was banned because nearly all the people it was cast on never returned. The spell is called ‘The Last Portal’ and only part of it was cast on you. The spell is a combination of wand waving and a ritual that must be completed to work. That’s why your still here and not in another dimension. Once your magic and the spell settle in a few days I will use a spell to wake you up, ok?” Hermione’s hand trembles as she brushes Harry’s hair off his face. “I will try to fix this, Harry.”
Another day passes and Headmistress Minerva McGonagall visits him. “Now, Mr. Potter, I expect you to be ready to teach DADA next year. In a few months I don’t want to see you lazing about in bed.” She snaps at him. “Hogwarts misses you, M-Mr. Potter.” She pats his hand and is gone before the warmth of her touch can dissipate.
Even Snape and Draco Malfoy visit him; the Potions Master and the Charms teacher sit on each side of his bed. “Trying to get more attention are we, Potter?”
“Sev, are you talking to a man in a magical coma?” Draco said with laughter in his voice.
Snape sniffs. “I have no doubt that he can hear us. He should know we spent all night brewing healing potions for his lazy rear. I have to teach today. It will be his fault if some sniveling student cries.”
“And whose fault was it yesterday?” Draco drawls.
Draco pokes Harry in the side making him twitch ever so slightly. “You really think he can hear us?”
“Yes. Granger wouldn’t asked for such a list of healing potions so soon unless he was close to waking.” Snape huffs.
“In that case. I’m a better flyer then you, Potter. I just got the Nimbus x5ooo and it could ride in circles around your worn out Firebolt. That red haired twat birdbrain you call a girlfriend hit on me last week and asked me if I’m seeing anyone. I told her I’d let a centaur fuck me before I’d touch her. She’s a lousy flying teacher and Gryffindor’s lost every match to Slytherin since school started. And you’re still a scarhead.” Harry’s finger twitches, he wants to smack the smirk off the blond ferret faced git.
“Will you ever grow up, Draco?” Snape let out a wary sigh.
“What? I’m sure he would have done the same!”
“I fear for little Scorpius.” Snape places clinking bottles to Harry’s right and they left. Harry can hear them sniping at each other down the hall.
Now that Ginny was brought up to his mind Harry wonders why she didn’t visit him. Did something happen to her?
On day three Harry can move his face and fingers with little effort and he can feel the fabric on his body and the air move along his skin. Harry parts his lips and tries with all his might to make a sound. The herculean effort should have produced a hair rising scream but all that comes out is something that sounds similar to a chick peep. Trying wiped him out so when Hermione stops in to check on him he can’t do it again. Harry can feel tears of frustration build under his lashes but they don’t fall before Hermione leaves for the night.
On day four Ginny shows up. She talks to the healer on duty in the hall and Harry can hear her crying but not once did she come by him. The only time she came close to the door his magic spiked like it would when he is in danger. She left after a few minutes.
That night is a flurry of activity with Hermione and the other healers talking around him and casting spells. “Are you sure he’s ready to wake up, Healer Weasley? We could send him into shock.”
“That’s what the potions are for.” Hermione said with a strong voice. “Besides we can wait any longer. Any spell I do to help Harry will need to be done with him awake.” There are a lot of murmuring and shifting and a lot of doubt in the other healer’s voices. “Sit him up I’m going to give him the first potion.” Hermione’s voice has a hard edge to it.
A warm potion that tastes vaguely like watered down cream is gently massaged down his throat. It rests in his belly heavily. After the potion is given to him he is gently placed against a mountain of pillows. “Will you be casting the spell, Healer Weasley?”
“Yes.” Hermione took a deep breath and shouts. “Everette!”
The magic came over him like a splash of water and his eyes snap open to a bright world. Harry gasps and gasps and gasps, he can’t get enough air! His eyes starts watering and everyone starts to blur. Voices are urging him to breathe but he just can’t! Just when he’s sure he’s going to pass out the potion in his belly rushes through his blood and makes the air return to his lungs. Harry comes back to himself with Hermione’s arms around him and her voice in his ear telling him to breathe deeply and to breathe with her. Her hair is in his face and it smells like orange blossoms, for a moment it’s the best smell in the world.
Hours later Harry was settling into his room with a tray of food in front of him with orders from a small blond nurse to eat it all or else. Still weak from his long sleep Harry carefully eats his Jell-O. Ron steps in just in time to see his failed attempt at eating like a big boy as the Jell-O jumps off his spoon and onto the floor. Ron grins. “You have blue goo on your shirt, mate.”
Harry glares at him. “I hate this. I feel as helpless as a baby. A week ago I was taking down deatheaters and mastering advanced DADA but now and here I can’t master the fine art of eating!”
Ron claps Harry on the shoulder nearly unbalancing him. “Don’t worry, Harry, my Mione will fix this.”
Harry can only nod.
With each day that passes Harry feels a little worse and has to swallow a lot more potions. What little strength he gets from the potions fades away fast and each time he feels weaker. His third day in the land of the living Harry can’t sit up on his own and on the fourth he can’t lift his head for very long. His muscles tremble with each movement.
On a sunny Saturday Hermione comes to his room with an old medical scroll in her hand and a determined glint in her brown eyes. “Harry, I need your permission to do this spell. I-it will hurt.”
Harry turns his head toward her and smiles. “I trust you, Mione. Do what you have to do.”
It did hurt a lot.
Hermione chants words in Latin and moves her wand in circular pattern along his bare skin. The tip of her wand burns hot like a smoldering coal and feels like it as it moves over him. He feels a painful pull inside him like the spell Hermione is chanting is trying to take slivers of bone and muscle. He bites at his lip and tries not to scream as the heat and the pulling intensifies.
Hermione is starting to sweat and sway.
When his blood starts to boil with pain Harry can’t help but scream. He screams loud and long and Hermione flinches but keeps waving her wand and chanting. When the spell is over Hermione stumbles to a chair and Harry pants on his bed loose limbed like a ragdoll. Hermione clutches at her large round belly and looks at him with sad wet eyes. “It didn’t work.” She whispers softly.
Harry starts to cough. “W-wha-t did w-ork? What d-did the s-pell d-o?”
“It was supposed to draw the curse out. Oh, Harry, I’m so sorry I hurt you!” She snuffles.
“It’s ok, Mione.” Harry rests limply on his bed. “The curse is killing me, huh?”
Hermione flinches again. “Yes. Very slowly.”
Hermione sighs. “The spell is only half done and the magic wants to complete its purpose to transport you away. It’s resting inside you like a powerful spring ready to snap. The longer it stays in your cells the more damage it does. It’s like a parasite, Harry.”
“Can’t we just spring it and make it transport me somewhere in London?”
Hermione shakes her head. “Too much power is in the spell. If we did that you would be showing up at random for years. One man who survived the spell appeared at random all over Scotland in his animagnus form for centuries. That’s where the muggle hellhound of Scotland comes from. The man only aged when he appeared but when the spell finally dissipated he was eighty three years old and all the people he cared for were dead.” She bites at her lip. “I was hoping I could draw some of the spell out to weaken it. It barely scratched the surface.”
Harry frowns. “So we do the spell again and keep doing it till it works.”
Hermione shakes her head and holds up the medical scroll. “The spell will start doing permanent damage to your body if it’s done more than twice a week. It’s taking infected particles from your body, Harry. All over your body, from your heart and bones and brain and skin.” Hermione brushes her fingers over a small patch of raw skin on Harry’s wrist. It looks like a sun burn.
“So we use it twice a week!”
Hermione looks at him with tears in her eyes. “It won’t be enough before our deadline.”
Harry frowns. “And when is that?”
“A month from now. Harry.”
Even though Harry knows the answer he still hand to ask. “And what will happen in a month?”
“I will either have to complete the spell or your body’s magic will burn itself out trying to do it for you. You’ll just stop breathing.” Hermione grabs his hand. “I won’t stop looking for a way to fix this Harry! I promise.” Hermione pulls out shrunk books from her pocket and resizes them. “These will tell you about the curse. Maybe you’ll see something I don’t.”
With magical help Harry was propped up on pillows and the book’s weight is reduced so he can hold it. The book is made of brown cracked leather and the pages are yellow with age. It is titled ‘Blotched spells of the ages by Lord Blackbird’. “Thanks, Mione.” And the other book is called ‘Through the Portal by the Man that came BACK by Lord Edward Bones’. The book is made of black leather and has a moving picture of a whirling pool on it with a man falling in it.
She resizes another book. “And this one is for when you get bored of those two.” She hands him a newer book of red and gold leather. It is more a journal then a book. “The animagnus within by Prongs, Padfoot, and Moony. I told you I would put all their notes together so we could study it. Ron and I already did the first spell to find our animals.”
Harry smiles as he holds the journal. “Really? What are you?”
“I’m a bobcat and Ron is a lovely red fox. He’s a bit disappointed. He wanted to be a lion or a dragon. I can do the spell to show you what you are right now?” Hermione waves her wand at Harry’s nod.
A blurry picture forms before him of something flying high in the clouds. It dives for the ground in a suicidal move, a move Harry loves to do on his broom, the Wronski Feint. The lines of the moving picture start to clear and they can see a small falcon diving for a mouse. “Cool.”
“I knew you’d be a bird Harry, you’re happiest up in the air.” With that said Hermione left him to do more research.
~Blotched spells of the ages chapter 1
The Last Portal Spell was designed by Lady Claire Magnus of Scotland six hundred and sixty two years ago. She was a brilliant witch that specialized in transportation and was one of the key creators of portkeying. During the wizard war of Blackmore vs. Magnus the two great families of magic fought over magical land and artifacts. The Blackmore specialty attack on the Magnus family were trapping spells that would make it imposable for them to leave a building. The Blackmore’s would block floo and portdoors (A door with one destination used before portkeys) and burn the building with the family inside or keep them there till they starve or surrender their wands for breaking. During that time Lady Claire trapped in her home with her children and sister created The Last Portal. A spell so powerful it crushed the barrier around her home and poked a small hole in our reality. She and her family disappeared to never be seen again leaving only her notes and a ritual circle of white wax.
Wizards sensitive to natural magic could sense the small hole in our reality and felt it heal in the weeks that passed. Many studied her spell and tried to contact her but those that could pierce the veil between worlds felt only an endless line of doors that they couldn’t follow through. It is believe that those that cross into another world can contact home since they know the feel of home but those who try and find the person cannot because the trail they leave fades like a ripple in water.
Since the time of Lady Claire six others have used the spell. One returned through to our world ten years after leaving it. He told of a world run by muggles and aliens with telekinetic powers. They were called Jedi and were like aurors of our world. He claimed something called the Force helped him get home. To know more turn to page 107.
One other reason makes this spell dark besides the fact that only 1 of 11 have returned. It is a two part spell and must be completed fully or the spelled will die. This spell has killed four people and stole a lifetime from another. Research has been done on the spell by Unspeakables but no counter spells have been found to work to this day. (See chapter 3-9 for research) Those who fall under the spell have three choices, complete the spell, anchor themselves to the land and be at the mercy of the spell as it transfers them from one place to the next, or die a slow death. ‘
After reading that Harry decides reading the animagus journal is less depressing.
Days later Harry has to use wandless magic to hold and flip the pages of the book since his hands shake too much, his attacker is found.
Harry found out from a young healer checking up on him. At first he can’t believe it. Why would Ginny hurt him like this? What’s the point?
It turns out Harry wasn’t the only one that had a connection to that man. Only Ginny’s connection left her with a sickness inside her head and a darkness in her soul. She wants to be the next dark lord and saw ending him as the way to do it. Newspaper headlines spread through the wizarding world and Harry read them all with a heavy heart. ‘Dark Lord Ginny?’ and ‘Potter Attacked By Loony Girlfriend!’ and ‘Weasel among the Weasleys?’ and ‘Virginia Weasley Proud Of What She Did!’
A long faced Ron came to Harry’s room that day. “H-hey, mate.”
Harry put the newspaper down and gives his friend a small smile. “Hey, Ron.”
“You heard?” Ron points at the paper with a moving picture of Ginny in a jail cell smiling brightly.
“Yeah. What’s gonna happen to her?”
Ron brushes a hand through his hair. “She’s bonkers. Mindhealers are going to see what they can do but she’ll never be free.” Ron swallows thickly. “You know those deatheaters we were after, the ones that kept getting away? They were hers.”
“The paper says you captured her?”
Ron sighs. “Yeah. She was taking a potion to control her impulses and she ran out two days ago. Snape flooed me telling me my sister was trying to pilfer potions from his private stores and that she was acting strange. I picked her up and took her to the Burrow. Figured she was just out of sorts since you were hurt. She started babbling in the living room.”
“Sorry mate.” Harry pats Ron on the arm.
“Mum won’t stop crying.”
Harry just continues patting his arm.
A week later Harry can’t breathe easily anymore and Hermione tries another spell on him. The new spell is much like the other only it tries to draw the curse out of a limb. Hermione focuses her magic on his hand and placed her wand in the center of his palm. It tingles and a shock like sensation shot from her wand and into his skin with each word of old Hebrew. Harry can feel the spell being drawn slowly away like melting wax sliding down a candles base. Hermione’s face brightens as she says the last word of the spell. She did a scan spell and smiles. “Your hand is free of the spell!”
“T-that’s good r-ight?” Harry said a little breathless.
Hermione gives a pleased little nod. “If I do the spell everyday on a different part of your body the spell should be weak enough to try anchoring you to Hogwarts and the Burrow!”
“Why not do some more?”
“I wish I could do it all in one go but the spell can do great damage to your muscles. It could make you this weak forever. Doing a little at a time will give your magic time to heal the damage the spell did.”
Harry sighs, his hand doesn’t feel damaged but he isn’t the healer. “So tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow we’ll work on your arm.” Hermione gives him a hopeful look.
The next day when Hermione did her spell scan her face fell. Harry looks at her with curious eyes. “What?”
“The curse is back in your hand and stronger than ever.”
Hermione tries many spells. Some that hurt, others that leave him numb for hours, and some that give him enough energy to sit up by himself but none of the spell draw The Last Portal curse from his blood and bones. Days from his deadline Harry can only rest in bed and watch the ceiling as medical spells help him breathe, eat, and use the bathroom. Harry is going back to the state he was before with the numbness. It’s creeping up on him slowly, starting at the tips of his toes and fingers and making its way up his ankles and hands. It takes a lot of effort to mumble a few words a day and most of the time he sleeps. Most of the time he sleeps and dreams of teaching at Hogwarts, flying high and free in the sky, and his rebuilt house on Godric hollow full of green eyed black haired babies. Not once did he dream of war or blood, Harry’s sleep is thankfully peaceful. Maybe he can just go this away?
Two days before his deadline Hermione and Ron walk into his room holding white candles. Hermione looks at Harry with such sadness. “Harry I need you to make a decision. Your body is shutting down and soon the spells that fill your lungs with air won’t work. We have a building in London that has both muggle and wizard medical tools. I could take you there and hook you up to a respirator. It would involve shoving a tube down your throat and it will force oxygen into you. Many muggles have lived for years in a coma on such a machine. Taking you to St. Hope’s could buy me enough time to save you.” Hermione looks away from Harry’s tired green eyes. “But it might also just draw out your pain.” Her breath catches in her throat. “We could also finish the spell before it’s too late. Edward Bones came back through the use of great magic. You’re very powerful Harry; I think if anyone can make it back it’s you. I could give you books and tools that could help you return home, Harry.”
“What’ll it be, mate? We’ll back you no matter what!” Ron says with a snuffle and a wobbly smile.
“ST. Hope’s or the spell?” Hermione asks softly.
Harry looks at his two friends through tired eyes, he’s bone deep exhausted and his head is so muddled he’s not sure which answer they want to hear from him. “W-whi-ch one is b-est?”
Hermione bites at her lip and a thoughtful but sad look crosses her face. “I searched everywhere I could think of Harry . . . If I can fix this, if it’s possible, I will find it. It might take a long time.” She snuffles softly. “Much of your life at ST. Hope’s could be spent asleep or you might never wake up. I could use stasis magic to keep you young . . . b-but there is a chance you could spend life time’s asleep. But if you do choose the hospital Harry I promise I won’t give up on you, I’ll work on this spell till my dying day!” She said passionately as she blinks back tears and looks at him with a mixture of hope and trepidation. “A-and the spell . . . I think you can make it home. You’re one of the strongest people I know. I know wherever the spell takes you could be dangerous . . . the spell is meant as a last escape, wherever you go you’ll be alive and healthy. There’s a strong chance it will be a one-way trip and there’s no guaranty of your safety during travel or when you get to the next world. ” She sniffs and rubs at her large belly a lost look on her face. “I don’t know which choice is best Harry.”
Coma or banishment from his home, either way Harry’s going to lose his life and friends. Harry’s not sure which choice is best for him either but he does know one thing he’s not piling Hermione with such a heavy lifetime commitment. Not when she has a family to take care of and a life to live. Harry licks at his lips and lets out a shaky breath of air. “T-th-e s-s-pell.” He gasps with determination in his eyes.
Tears start rolling down Hermione’s face. “I’ll get everything ready, Harry.”
A thick circle of wax drips from seventy one plain white candles, a fine layer of sea salt and lavender, the tears of a phoenix, the blood of a dragon, and seven hairs of a unicorn, are placed in the circle. The smoke of sage incents fills Harry’s hospital room as Hermione and Ron starts to chant together. Harry only hears every other word like ‘escape’ and ‘freedom’ and ‘universe’. Their chant sounds more like a prayer of goodwill then a spell that could take him away forever.
Gently Ron picks up Harry’s wilting form and places him in the circle. Harry looks up at the ceiling to find a loopy almost Celtic looking design right above him. It’s dripping onto him and smells of blood. Hermione goes to Harry’s side and sits down outside the circle. Harry spies a nasty bleeding cut on her wrist. He makes a noise of distress. Hermione brushes his hair then shows him a long silver necklace dangling in her hand. On it is a tiny round black trunk; it looks like a bulky locket. “I put every book and potions component I think is useful in here, Harry. There’s a tent, clothing, food, and money inside. You’re going to another world so they might not value gold as we do so I put bags of other minerals in here. I went to your vault and put jewels, silks, and weapons inside.” She slips it around his neck with the same care a mother would with her newborn. “I also got this from your vault. It’s a wand holster. I improved it and made it smaller.” Hermione slips Harry’s two middle fingers into dark red nearly black leather hand guard and buckles it around his wrist. It has red glittering beads on thick black cord weaved around an inch and a half tube like embedded bead of onyx resting just under his big knuckle. Hermione grabs his wand and presses the tip against the onyx bead; his wand slid into it and disappears inside the hollow of the bead. “It won’t come out of the holster unless you call it out. You can do spells with your wand in the bracelet and it will be easier for you to hide it if you end up in an h-hostile w-world.” Hermione snuffles.
“S’ok, M-mione.” Harry says softly. “I’m go-ing to g-get bac-k ho-home.”
Ron grabs Harry’s shoulder and squeezes it gently to get his attention. “M-mate, I put some chocolate frogs in the trunk for you and some stuff from the twins shop. M-mum made you a quilt, she wasn’t done patching the corners but I thought you should have it since . . . Be careful, k? Don’t do anything stupid and hero-y without me and Mione, k mate?” Ron blinked his eyes rapidly and clears his throat as he stands. “You can’t get out of being my kid’s godfather, Harry.”
“Right.” Harry smiles and Ron smiles. “I’ll see you guys again.”
Hermione snuffles more and gives a firm nod. “Right! Of course you will. Ron! Do you have the g-glass ball with the blessed rose oil in it?” Ron hands it to his wife, Hermione hold it like it is the vilest thing on Earth. “Come back to us, Harry,” With that said Hermione lets the ball fall into the circle.
The small glass ball smashes to pieces by Harry’s right and the liquid inside coats his arm. The well of power in his every cell hums to life and he feels that all-consuming cold again. It pulls at his body like a rubber band getting stretched from one end to another. It hurts but it also feels like a release of weeks of pain and weakness. His strength is returning.
Harry is falling.
Through an endless tunnel of color and sound Harry falls and floats like a skipping stone on the ocean or the confused droplet from a tall waterfall not sure if it wants to follow the current down or spray up with the wondering mist. He is light as a feather at times and at other time heavy and falling fast like a stone off a high cliff. Towards the end of his ride Harry feels like he is traveling through cotton and lands with a thump on a floor of lush green. Harry only gets a little glimpse of a stream of very clear water, a white purple mushroom taller than his 5’10 frame, vibrant red fan like plants, and green that goes on for miles, when the bubble of magic that protected him during his travel pops. Poison air rushes into his lungs like a thick tangle of bent knives and he can’t breathe. Panicked Harry tries to form a bubble charm only to have it sputter out at the touch of a potent magic in the air. On the ground struggling for every breath and with his vision clouding around the edges Harry reaches out for the strange power that is in every plant and bit of soil around him, for the powerful magical fire overwhelming his every attempt at casting. He reaches with the panic of a drowning child and the strange engulfing magic reaches back.
As his vision fades to a wash of clouds and spots Harry watches glowing white tendrils embrace him, cocoon him in white silk that hugs him to the soil. The power is called Ewya and she is the mother of this place, she is this place. ‘What are you?’ Her soft voice echoes with life and churns through him like warm endless sunshine. Her mothering presence curls around his magic and pulls and pokes at it with curiosity like a puppy would a new toy. ‘You are like Ewya but smaller . . .’ She said with awe.
‘I’m Harry, just Harry.’ He curls into the comfort she offers like a newborn pup to its mother’s warmth.
‘Ha`rri, mine.’ Harry shivers as Ewya’s powerful magic roils over him like an ocean of light, it’s too much for him and he passes out as he’s filled with her grace to overflowing.
MerKat: I hope you all like it.