The Labyrinth of Amagor

The Labyrinth of Amagor

Chapter 12: Lullaby in Green

The Hulk peered about him, then roared, "Where are puny humans who try to bury Hulk? Hulk will find and smash!" He dove into the trees, and they could hear him blundering through the wood.

Cyclops grimaced. "If he finds us...."

"I can make that more difficult," said Storm. She kissed Sirius lightly, then sprang into the air, hovering a little above the trees. Slowly, the air below her seemed to thicken, and an opalescent mist formed between the trees. Once started, it spread quickly, covering the area as far as anyone could see. Storm settled back down. "That should keep him off us for a while."

"But it doesn't solve our problem," noted Shacklebolt. "Scott, I'm sorry. I'll admit, I thought you were exaggerating when you told us about this creature; I thought surely nothing could be as powerful as you claimed the Hulk was.

"It seems I was wrong. He survived the Killing Curse - it didn't even make him blink - and he broke open solid rock to free himself. He was buried under tons of fallen stone and came out without a mark on him. So, I have to ask: How do we fight this thing?"

"I don't know," Scott admitted. "I'm open to suggestions, Kingsley. And don't apologize; the Hulk is something you have to see to believe. I didn't realize what he was capable of until now. Of all of us, only Logan has encountered him before."

"Don't ask me," growled Logan. "I beat the Wendigo, but not the Hulk. We just gotta hope he gets tired, or calms down and changes back into Banner."

"Pardonnez-moi," Fleur broke in, "but can this, this change, be made to 'appen sooner?"

"Yes, I suppose so," replied Scott. "If we could find a way to calm him, he'd transform."

"Not easy," Psyche revealed. "Back in the cave, I tried to project some soothing images to him, but his mind is so full of rage, all I could find were violent thoughts." She shuddered, and Roberto put his arms around her.

Fleur nodded. "Then 'e must be calmed from outside 'imself. Scott, my grand-mere is a Veela. From 'er, I inherited certain talents. Eet is possible I can calm this 'Ulk, but I must see 'im to do so."

"Fleur, are you sure?" asked Scott anxiously. "The Hulk is dangerous. You could be hurt, even killed!"

Fleur put a hand to his cheek. "We are all in peril. So I take a leetle risk for ze good of all? I 'ave thees gift. I would be ashamed not to do all I could."

Scott stepped closer and spoke hoarsely, "I've only just found you, Fleur. I don't want to lose you."

She snuggled into his arms and spoke up into his face, "Zen you weel not. What 'arm can come when my brave warrior watches over me? Wiz you beside me, Scott, I cannot fail."

"I'm gonna barf," muttered Sam to Ron.

"You and me both, mate," agreed Ron. Then both of them fell silent under the withering glares of their girlfriends.

Moody said, "Scott, there's a clearing over there. If Miss Delacour needs to see the Hulk, is there any way we can get him to it?"

"I could lead him there," said Nightcrawler. "He's fast for his size, but he won't catch me."

"No good," Havok declared. "We don't want him barrelling in there fight-ready, or Fleur won't have a chance to do her stuff."

Tonks stepped forward, a pensive frown on her face. "How's this Hulk with animals?"

"I never heard he harmed one," replied Wolverine. "His beef is with people."

"Well, that settles it, then. Fleur, Scott, you get to the clearing. I'll lead him there if I can." Tonks turned, stretched up and kissed Bill lightly on the nose. "Back in a bit, love."

The young Auror moved off a little way, turned her back, and transformed with a shimmer into a beautiful fallow deer that darted off into the woods in the direction of the Hulk's noisy thrashing.

"OK," said Scott. "Fleur and I will go down to the clearing. The rest of you stay here and try to figure out what to do if we don't succeed."

The two started down the hill, hand in hand. Then Cyclops stopped and turned. The entire group was following them.

Before Scott could protest, Havok said, "What, bro? Did you think we were going to let you go down there without us?"

"We're in this together, Scott," affirmed Shacklebolt. "You lot dove in when we needed help, even against your Professor's orders, so we finish this as a team or not at all."

"Anyway," Harry said, as the group began moving again, "as far as Ron, Hermione and I are concerned, this is what we do."

"We've been doing it since our First Year," Ron confirmed.

"We have our own little motto about it," added Hermione.

"Don't tell me," said Lorna. "All for one and one for all?"

Hermione shook her head. "Semper in excreta, solo profundem variat." She smiled.

"Huh?" asked George.

Arthur translated, "Always in the shit, only the depth varies." He grinned, observing, "That could be the Weasley family motto, Hermione."

She shrugged. "It can do double duty. Harry's an honorary Weasley, and I'm going to be one by marriage, one of these days."

"Uh-oh. You're doomed, pal," said Bob to Ron.

Ron sighed. "'Fraid there's no help for it."

"Speaking of mottos," said Remus to his friends, "I think mine right now is Meam transitam sursum, Caledonian."

"What's that?" demanded Kurt.

"Latin for Beam me up, Scotty," said Beast, chuckling.

"Shh!" Scott held a finger to his lips. They had been moving into the forest as they spoke, and now the clearing came in sight. Storm's mist was contained under the trees, so the afternoon sunlight spilled into what was a pretty little dell, its lush, green grass spangled with daisies and buttercups.

"OK," Scott said, "the rest of you stay well back. If the Hulk sees a crowd, he'll think we're out to attack him. Fleur, honey, I'll be right behind you."

She nodded, inhaled, and threw her shoulders back before moving to a tree on the very edge of the clearing. Scott was close behind her.

A few moments later, the deer that was Tonks bounded gracefully into the clearing. Behind her came the huge figure of the Hulk, staring fascinated at the lovely creature. As he reached the centre of the dell, Fleur began to sing.

There were no words to her song. It was pure melody, soft, gentle and slightly plaintive. It called up images of repose, of the comfort of being securely loved. Fleur's song filled the dell, and the Hulk stopped in his tracks, head cocked, listening. Deer-Tonks slipped unnoticed back into the trees, to nuzzle Bill gently before changing back into her human form, and standing with an arm wrapped around his waist.

Dazzler had listened for a moment as Fleur's song began, then she started making rapid adjustments to the control unit on her wrist. Within moments, the sophisticated circuitry in her uniform had been programmed to match the frequency, pitch and rhythm of the song. Ali whispered to Seamus, "C'mon. I'm gonna help, and I want you with me."

"You'd have me there whether you wanted me or not, acushla," Seamus asserted. The teenagers crept forward, Seamus taking a position beside Cyclops, Dazzler moving next to Fleur. What followed was an unexpected blending of the two women's powers.

Dazzler, using Storm's mist as a screen, projected shimmering curtains of light around the dell. As the sonic generators in her uniform matched their output to Fleur's singing, the curtains flowed and changed. Delicate, pastel colours swirled in soothing, stately patterns.

The Hulk was entranced. He murmured to himself, his deep, guttural tones reaching Wolverine's keen ears. "Pretty music. Pretty lights. Hulk likes. Hulk stays here."

The green-skinned behemoth settled to the grass, yawned, and then slowly stretched out on the grass. He watched the lights, listened to the song, and then his eyelids began to droop. Fleur and Dazzler continued their display for a while longer. Within minutes, the Hulk was breathing deeply and evenly, sound asleep.

As quickly as the change had come, it reversed itself. The Hulk's body shrank, his skin lightened, and the figure sleeping on the grass became Dr Bruce Banner.

Fleur ended her song, and Dazzler stopped projecting. The two turned to each other and smiled. Scott thumped Seamus on the shoulder, and the two of them went forward to join the girls.

Seamus, bursting with pride, grabbed Ali and swung her round. They kissed with all the greedy passion of teenagers in love. Scott acted on instinct to gather Fleur into his arms, and he become lost in the incredible sweetness of her lips as she responded eagerly. For a long moment, nothing else mattered, until she released him, and he realised what he had done. "Fleur, I...didn't mean to, I--"

She held him tightly, speaking close to his face, so he could feel her sweet breath on his cheek. "Tais-toi, cheri. But of course you meant to, as did I. We weel speak more of thees, later, mon amour. But we weel not speak too much, yes?"

Reluctantly, she turned her head to observe the man sleeping on the grass. "But now I must attend to poor Dr Banner. We must get 'im back to 'Ogwarts as soon as may be."

Fleur almost danced over to the prone figure. She saw Bill Weasley standing nearby, and paused a second to look at him. He grinned and gave her the thumbs-up. Fleur smiled, and blew him a kiss. After all, if he had not deserted her for the tomboy Tonks, she would not now have her handsome, brave Scott!

Banner lay in a deep sleep of exhaustion. Fleur judged that there was no need to sedate him. She went off in search of a blanket for the man who had been through so much.

Shacklebolt dispatched Tonks and the twins to sweep the area for any sign of Death Eater activity. "I'm probably being overly cautious," he told Scott, "but after all this, I don't want to stroll into an ambush."

Wolverine had been consulting his compass and sniffing the air. "Cyke, Shacklebolt--I make our original staging post about half a klick southwest of here. If Storm can get rid of this mist, we can be there in ten...twenty minutes."

Scott said, "Storm, can you get on the mist? Kingsley, I think you're right; there's no need to take unnecessary risks. Wolfsbane, will you scout ahead?"

Rahne nodded and moved to the edge of the dell, then turned to ask, "Are ye no' comin, Mr Black?"

Sirius turned to Ororo. "Go," she told him. "Wolves are pack animals, and Rahne likes having someone she can trust to run with. Besides, you're cute as Snuffles."

"Cute, indeed." He grinned at her. "I'll give you 'cute'!"

"Promises, promises," she returned. "Now go on, you. There's bound to be food at Hogwarts, and I'm starving."

Wolfsbane and Snuffles disappeared into the woods, followed by Wolverine. After a few moments with no alarm, Shacklebolt asked Polaris to alert the airborne wizards to the changed rendezvous point. "All right," he said. "We move out now. Stick together, keep your eyes peeled, and no clowning around--that means you three." His stern look was aimed at Ron, Cannonball and Iceman, who returned his stare with expressions of wide-eyed innocence. "Mr Moody and Mr Wagner, can you watch the rear? Thank you. Who'll take Dr Banner?"

"I have him," replied Beast, picking up his sleeping friend as lightly as a child. Shacklebolt nodded, and then took the lead, with Scott beside him and Harry and Marie close behind.

***

Some miles away, Bellatrix Lestrange watched the movements of the company by converting a small pool to a scrying glass. She seethed with frustration, humiliation and fear. Bellatrix had been at the point of finally disposing of her traitorous cousin, when she had felt a strong grip on the back of her neck, and everything had gone dark. She had awakened to find herself lying bound on the gallery above the Hall, listening to the sounds of celebration from below.

Fortunately, whoever had applied the Binding charm had been no expert, and the bonds had faded quickly. Bellatrix began to revive her companions, preparing them for a last strike. Then she had heard the enemy begin their descent into the cave. Quickly making their way down to the Hall, her squad had freed most of the Death Eaters there. But before they could follow the Order's minions, there had been a series of muffled booms, and the entire Keep had started to shake and crumble.

There had been no option but to flee, as those outside had already done. Bellatrix remained long enough to seal the great door before Apparating to this small cave. She had been unable to resist projecting an image back into the Keep, to mock her trapped enemies, and had thus been shocked at the ease with which the black-clad youth had broken her trap. She had also been unnerved by the green-skinned ogre that had emerged from the ruins of the Keep. Could this creature be solely responsible for the destruction?

She had watched as the French slut and the skinny tart in the slinky black uniform (she really must get one of those) had somehow soothed the ogre into sleep. Then Bellatrix had been amazed to discover that the ogre was merely the pathetic Muggle her Dark Lord had enslaved. As the group moved off, doubtless to return to Hogwarts, Bellatrix sat back and wondered what her Master would do now.

The answer came soon, as a wavering image of Voldemort appeared before her. She cowered before him. "Master! Forgive me. I have failed you," she whispered miserably.

"Enough!" snapped the tall figure. "You are not wholly to blame. There are forces acting here that even I failed to anticipate. It seems that Potter and Dumbledore have been acquiring allies. I have been remiss in ignoring these Mutants. We must discover the source of their powers before we move forward.

"For now, however, return to me at the Sanctum. We will discuss your failure at leisure."

"At once, Master," said Bellatrix submissively. The projection vanished and she prepared to Apparate to her Lord's side, smiling in anticipation of her punishment.

***

As the company proceeded through the woods, Harry fell back to walk beside Peter and Kitty. He had thought he'd be jealous of Kitty's new relationship, but he was so involved with Ginny that all he could be was happy for the pretty American girl who had awakened his heart and was now one of his best friends. But his business now was with the big Russian.

He said, "Peter, back there you took a Killing Curse for me. That takes bottle, mate, I owe you one."

Peter gave his deep chuckle. "If by 'bottle' you mean guts - no way, Harry. It's pretty much clear after all this that spells don't work on me when I'm Colossus. Besides, we're on the same team, Hawk, so no thanks necessary."

Harry shook his head. "You couldn't be sure it wouldn't work on you, Peter. Just because all the others haven't doesn't mean that you're completely invulnerable."

"Oh, I think it does, Harry. Professor McGonagall told me a while back that I confuse spells, somehow." Peter shrugged. "She got kinda technical on me, so I'm not sure how it works. I guess it's not only the magic that's confused," he admitted, grinning.

Hermione spoke up from behind them. "It's actually very simple, Peter. Some spells work on living beings; others affect inanimate objects. When you're Colossus, one kind sees you as steel, so those won't work, but the other kind recognises you as human, so those can't touch you, either."

"Hang on," objected Ron. "Harry and I used spells on those Sentinels, and they worked."

"Yes, Ron," Hermione sighed, "but the Sentinels are robots - like golems, they're not alive--sort of like what's between your ears."

"Thank you, darling," said Ron.

"Any time, my sweet," murmured Hermione. "You more than make up for it elsewhere, though."

"Are they always like this?" Peter asked.

"Oh, yes!" chorused Kitty and Harry.

***

Narcissa's scrying glass was less ad hoc than Bellatrix's; it was, in fact, her dressing table mirror. She watched as the Phoenix squad and their allies caught up with the two shape-shifters and the stocky, clawed Mutant. They were joined by the air patrol near the Portkey, which would take them, in small groups, back to Hogwarts. Narcissa could not follow them there, if Dumbledore did not detect her, then that dried-up old bitch McGonagall surely would. No one's tumbled Minerva in a long time, thought Narcissa, and it's soured her disposition.

Not that Narcissa's own disposition was the best just then. She had woken suddenly to find herself lying on her bed, covered modestly with a sheet, with Harry gone and the craving in her body still unsatisfied. Her hand had flown to the sore spot on her neck. What had he done to her? How had she, Narcissa Black Malfoy, arch plotter, expert seductress, been so deftly outmanoeuvred by a teenaged boy?

Seething with frustration, humiliation and fury, Narcissa had flown to her mirror and commanded it to show her the Keep. There had been a battle-royal raging there, and Harry Potter was in the thick of it. Her mood swinging wildly between rage, fear, awe and lust, Narcissa had watched as the mixed force of wizards and Mutants had crushed the Death Eater ambush. She had seen, earlier in the day, the powers of some of the Mutants in action - the basilisk-like one who fired beams from his eyes, the green-haired woman who had power over metal, and others. Now she saw more - the steel giant and the ice elemental she recognised from Draco's accounts - but there was one who hurled dragon blasts of fire, and a red-haired werewolf who could control her transformation.

Narcissa paid scant attention to these creatures. Her eyes and mind were fixed on Harry. He fought, and, oh, he was magnificent! If only Draco, or even Lucius, could match him, Narcissa would have been content. She felt a pang of pure hatred for the small, fiery and formidable redhead who stayed so close by Harry's side - Ginevra Weasley, she remembered - Harry's current inamorata. That pureblood girl would have made an ideal bride for Draco, if Lucius and Arthur Weasley could have set aside their schoolboy feud - and if Draco had shown any sign of either knowing or caring about what his genitals were for.

Then her eye was drawn to the gallery and another figure that stood watching the fight. Surely it could not be...Sirius? It was impossible. Somehow, Harry had resolved the dilemma she and Voldemort had set for him, and managed to bring his godfather out alive. How? Then she saw Bellatrix and her group attack - saw Bellatrix crumple to the ground at the merest touch of a tall girl with a streak of white in her hair, and saw the girl take up Bellatrix's wand and use it. What had Draco babbled about? Some Mutant girl who could draw the power out of anyone she touched and use it herself for a while?

Narcissa was nobody's fool. It took her only moments to work out how Harry had managed to free Sirius. But the depth of courage and trust between the two young people the solution must have needed awed and frightened her. She had never had the bravery to trust anyone so absolutely. She continued to watch, observing the confrontation with Voldemort and the shocking emergence of the green-skinned juggernaut that caused the Dark Lord to flee.

Narcissa swore to herself; she had been a fool. After the events of the Spring, she had determined to learn more about Muggles, since some of them appeared to possess strange abilities. She had searched the American press, as their publications seemed to carry more information. Narcissa had learned much: She had read of a young man who seemed to have the powers of a spider; she had seen interviews with four extraordinary people who lived in New York; there had been articles about the millionaire inventor whose bodyguard wore a suit of invincible, golden armour, and about the living manifestation of a Norse god.

There had, of course, been endless scare stories about the "Mutant Menace". Among these had been stories of the sporadic appearance of a green ogre or giant the reporters called "the Incredible Hulk". Some had speculated about the creature's connection with a place called "Gamma Base", near some place called "Area 51". Banner must have been chosen because of his expertise with these gamma rays! Narcissa should have seen the connection, should have been able to make some use of it.

Now, she disenchanted the mirror to find her own face staring back at her. She had come so close! She had been in his arms, almost naked, her mouth locked on his, and then.... How had he done that? Why had he done that? And why in that particular way? Virtuous refusal, shyness, teenaged over-excitement, all of these she could have dealt with, but not...deception. He had charmed her, disarmed her, held her, caressed her, and kissed her. Gods! He had seduced her.

Narcissa rose from the dressing table, still wearing her gown, the one Harry had slipped so gently from her shoulders. In a fit of fury, she stripped it off and threw it to the floor. Naked, she stood and stared down at the silky garment. She licked her lips; she could still taste him. She bent and snatched up the robe, pressing it to her face and inhaling deeply. His smell was still on it - a masculine musk of sweat, leather and youth that excited her almost beyond bearing. Whenever she closed her eyes, she saw his penetrating green ones boring into her.

Sobbing, Narcissa flung herself on the bed. "Damn you, Harry!" she raged. "Damn you, damn you, damn you!""

Her fury gave her no solace. Deep in her heart, Narcissa knew that she was the one who was damned.

Sorry, couldn't resist tying into my Tonks mythology.

I don't think Ron's read Dickens. The quote seemed out of place.

Seems this word should be Caledonian, but I'm no Latinist.

Oh, I am going to skin you for putting apostrophes into its! Every time you're tempted, ask yourself, "Do I mean 'it is'?"

Thought Fleur should show a little compassion.