Harry Potter and the Flesh of the Jade Guardian

Ch. 1: Before the Beginning

"James, wait here," she insisted brushing the tangled mass of red hair from her face.

"No, I'm fine," the young man retorted through gritted teeth, brushing sweat from his brow as he struggled to pull himself up the smooth surface of the stone cavern walls. "They couldn't send Moody on this one, could they?"

The young woman shook her head, her green eyes stubborn. She pressed her hand firmly onto his chest to keep him from standing.

"Darling," she said softly as he relented. "One, he only has one leg (you're not better off yourself, considering)...not great for climbing through cave dungeons and two, he's only off catching about a million Death Eaters. Now back to the subject at hand. You're staying put. You are in no condition to venture any deeper. That slip back there broke your leg."

The young man shook his head, forcing a grin onto his face.

"Just a twisted ankle," he proclaimed, slapping his left leg, which was turned out in an unnatural angle. "Ouch!" grunting, he looked sheepishly back at her.

"Just peachy, I'm sure," she said knowingly, returning the grin. "Look, if I go alone, we get out of this faster. We can just Apparate home, and I won't have to wait for you to drag your bum up that last wall. I'll be doing all the charm work anyway, and really, you'd be hampering my success."

At that he snorted and then sat silently looking at his twisted leg.

"Can't we just mend it really quick?" he murmured.

"James, do you remember the last time we tried to mend a broken bone?"

"Well, at least Sirius's arm wasn't broken anymore."

"Sure, but a cheery tree isn't an arm either."

"Did we really mess up that badly?"

"I could remind you by turning your leg into a cherry tree."

"Do you mean that?" James said staring up at her thoughtfully. "I suppose I could drag a cherry tree along..." Lily sighed and shook her head.

"Just wait here," she pressed. James bit his lip and stared at her silently for a moment.

"Lily, I don't want you up there alone and I don't want to argue," he finally sighed as if he knew fighting was futile.

"Ok," she said.

Surprised, he met her eyes.

"Ok you won't go up there without me?"

"Ok we won't argue," she replied mischievously. Turning serious, she added, "We're wasting time, I'll be back, I promise."

She smiled and kissed him reassuringly, but as she made to stand, he grabbed her hand.

"Really," he said softly, looking into her adventurous face. "What are we to do if our child ends up as stubborn as you?" She laughed and looked at him adoringly.

"You'll just have to deal," she said as he grinned back at her and released her hand.

"I love you, James Potter," she added softly over her shoulder.

"Ditto, Lily Potter," he said as she turned and began to climb the wall that led to the grotto. It looked like a mouth, slashed into the cavern, waiting to devour all who dared to enter. Suddenly, a tapping intruded on the relative silence of the cavern, ringing softly off the walls, but it seemed the two souls could not hear it. The rapping continued on and on, not showing any signs of ceasing.

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          Harry Potter awoke with a start, flailing his arms and legs slightly. The rapping was not resonating from the cavern walls of his subconscious, but from the window of his room. Shaking off the binds of sleep, he made his way to it and pressed his hands to the cool glass, opening it to allow in his owl, Hedwig. In a flutter of snowy feathers, Hedwig gracefully fluttered to Harry's shoulder. The gentle weight was comforting, and Harry gratefully accepted a few affectionate nips on the cheek from her. She had been gone several days, disappearing one night after Harry had secretly sent her to deliver letters to Ron, Hermione, Hagrid, and Sirius Black. Sirius had written a few weeks ago to ask how Harry was holding up. Not quite sure what to say, Harry had postponed letter writing.

 Harry's fourth year at Hogwarts had ended with the death of Cedric Diggory and the return of Voldemort--events that had played horribly in his mind like a looping movie on a broken projector. Though he looked forward to finally returning to Hogwarts (the closest thing to home), he dreaded how others would react, whether or not things would return to normal, what Cho Chang would say...

Harry shut his eyes and gripped the windowsill as Hedwig made the short flight to her cage and water dish, where several Owl Treats awaited her. All summer, he was asked if he was all right by everyone that mattered. He had answered "fine", but deep down he really didn't know. Since that fateful evening of the Triwizard Tournament, all that had seemed routine-- boarding the Hogwarts express, returning to Privet drive, having yet another birthday go unnoticed in the Dursley home--had turned into a terrible countdown to whether or not he'd be all right.

Harry opened his eyes to the sunrise over the quiet street, watching as yet another day was born. Absentmindedly, he traced the faint scar (another to add to his collection) in the crook of his elbow where his own blood had been drawn to raise Lord Voldemort. Since Cedric's death, Harry had been plagued by nightmares. Most of which were so awful he would awake drenched in sweat, violently clawing at the air for one more glimpse of his parents or one last chance to save Cedric. He hadn't shared this with anyone but Sirius, and when he did in a letter at the beginning of summer, concerned notes came by the dozen from his Godfather. Afraid that too many letters endangered Sirius's safety, Harry conceived a lie and wrote him back with claims that the dreams were short-lived. This morning's dream was different than the ones before, however. This one wasn't filled with dread, but had elements of adventure, seriousness, even humor. He had had this dream on several occasions recently, but today was the first time he could recall details. He wondered if the dream meant anything, or was it simply the desperate desire to see his parents in their living state? For now, there was no one and nothing to provide an answer, so he decided to file it away in the back of his mind.

Harry squinted his eyes as the sun rose higher above the distant hills, blurry because he had failed to put on his glasses. It had lifted his spirit immensely receiving cards and gifts from his friends. Ron's gift had been a ridiculous supply of Fred and George's own Weasley Wizard Wheezes, which cheered Harry immensely. From Hagrid, he received a quill kit from France, where the gentle giant was currently residing for the week. A deep red colored owl flew in Hermione's from Bulgaria where she and her family had gone to visit Viktor Krum, the incredible seeker who had played in amazingly in the last Quidditch World Cup. A letter from Krum accompanied her birthday card. He wished both Harry and Ron well.

The gifts were now hidden under Harry's bed and a loose floorboard. Today, Harry thought with genuine happiness, he would see Ron and Hermione at Diagon Alley.

Deciding to seize the moment of peace in the early dawn, Harry headed off to the bathroom to shower and dress.

"Harry!" came the telltale shout of Aunt Petunia through the door. "Hurry your lazy bum out of there!" He didn't know why he was being rushed, because no one else used the tiny closet-sized bathroom but himself. Suddenly, Aunt Petunia added, "You have to vacuum the rugs before we leave!"

"Figures," Harry mumbled pulling on jeans and a long sleeve shirt. He looked at himself in the fogged up mirror over the sink. He had grown considerably taller (though probably not as tall as Ron), his shoulders had broadened slightly, and his face was forming a remarkable resemblance to his father's. His hair was still the same, untamable and the color of a raven, and his eyes peered as green as ever from behind his round frames. It was the first time he noticed how much he had changed from the skinny boy of eleven to what stood before the mirror now. It didn't matter how much taller he had gotten though; it would still take ten of him to fit into Dudley's old wardrobe.

After the rugs were vacuumed, Harry walked in for breakfast. Uncle Vernon was sitting on one side of the table his face twisted as he read an article on Dillon Drills, a rival company of Uncle Dursley's. From his distorted face, Harry could predict his mood...not that it would differ from most mornings.

"Harry!" Uncle Vernon yelled suddenly, snapping Harry back to life. "You're late to the table! Good for nothing...." The last part was inaudible because the large man had replaced his face into the newspaper.

Harry sat down in front of a paper plate with a piece of grapefruit on it. He glanced sideways at Dudley who was now allowed one boiled egg along with his entire half of the fruit. True, his cousin had lost his "bursting-at-the-the-seams" look, but Harry still couldn't shake that at nearly sixteen, Dudley still hadn't lost the appearance of a pig in a wig. Well, except the fact that he now looked like a pig in a wig with trace amounts of facial hair.

Mindlessly, Harry ran a hand over his own smooth chin, before reaching for the juice jug located near Dudley. As his hand passed near Dudley's plate, the boy hissed threateningly, snatching his plate to his chest. The guy was becoming slightly overprotective of his food rations.

"Where will I drop you off?" Uncle Vernon asked gruffly.

"In front of a bookstore," Harry said and quickly added, "a normal bookstore."

"Normal?" Uncle Vernon said eyes never leaving the paper. "A place you're going? Highly unlikely."

Harry didn't retort--instead, he picked up the sliver of fruit and swallowed it, mustering a belch for the sake of theatrics.

"Disgusting, under-grown twit," Aunt Petunia shot in revulsion. Dudley hands clenched around his fork and for a moment Harry feared his cousin would attempt to make part of his arm breakfast. Just for precaution's sake, Harry moved it off the table.

"You have exactly four hours," Uncle Vernon growled as Aunt Petunia sat down, sipping coffee from a mug in her bony hands.

"And don't be getting use to us chauffeuring you about," the horse-faced woman interjected. "You remember that it's just because a trip to Harrod's is in store for us--Duddums needs a mp3 player for his new gym class and a palm organizer. Oh, and a new winter coat..." she went on and on for sometime while Harry's mind wandered about.

Uncle Vernon's scowling face brightened proudly as his son smiled at his parents, his chubby cheeks nearly meeting his forehead. Uncle Vernon returned to his paper rather soothed and Aunt Petunia continued to list the new items destined to her darling Dudley.

"That new Play Station console--the last one broke dear, a leather jacket, flat screen tele..."

Without either of his parents noticing, Dudley sent a sneering grin at Harry that rivaled only that of one Draco Malfoy.

"Oh, and an electric razor...he's growing up so fast." Aunt Petunia's eyes misted over and she sniffled a bit as she looked at her son adoringly.

"I'll never be too old to love you, mum" Dudley replied with a disgustingly sweet smile.

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Harry watched the Dursley's car speed away deeper into London. As their vehicle became a speck several blocks away near Virgin's Record Store, Harry turned and entered the Leaky Cauldron nestled near the bookshop he was dropped off at. This was the main highlight of the summer--returning to the wizarding world and his friends. Staying at the Burrow would have been, but Sirius had insisted that Dumbledore would prefer him to stay with the Dursleys. Harry had a hard time swallowing that one, but he knew that there was some sort of safety (unbearable, however) in being with his horrible relatives.

Taking in a deep breath, Harry entered the cleverly inconspicuous Leaky Cauldron entrance, wondering if all the magical community knew of the Triwizard Tournament events. The place was cool and dark, and upon entering, he was met with the most peculiar smells and conversations. He was making his way deeper into the tavern when bits of a conversation between several wizards and a witch caught his attention.

"Those murders weren't the average murder, you mark my words," a young man with a goatee was saying loudly. "All killed by the Avada Kedavra."

"They say its because You-Know-Who is back," said a witch, who was leaning over the back of her chair at the table beside his.

"Cecil!" exclaimed a wizard with cocoa colored skin. "Don't go on with those deranged rumors! Really now, the Ministry has yet to announce if it's You-Know-Who or not. He hasn't been in the condition to murder since Harry Potter. No Dark Mark either."

"Well, what about that Ministry woman's death?" the witch said indignantly. "Why can't it be He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? The Death Eaters haven't been keeping a low profile lately, afterall."

"Those weren't Death Eaters at the World Cup," interjected the Asian man next to her, "Those were lushes drunk from excitement. They barely had enough wit to dissemble when the Ministry showed up."

"But what about the murders yesterday?" the young man spoke up again. "All the victims had the dark mark on their forearm."

"Good riddance then, I say," said another man one seat over, sipping the foam from his brew.

Harry stood awkwardly in the shadow of the bar. He had been out of the wizarding world long enough to be well behind in current events, so the murders were news to him. The wizards' debate had left a sort of uncomfortable residue on his mind. He swallowed it difficultly, attempting to reason with himself that those murders could have been by anyone and he shouldn't jump to conclusions...even if the memory of the Dark Lord's announced agenda of killing all non-returnees of his ring was ringing in Harry's ears.

"Harry!" a familiar voice called. Harry's head turned towards the direction of the voice, and he ducked passed the debating wizards.

Sitting in a far corner booth were Ron and Hermione. Hermione's hand was in the air, waving excitedly. Harry couldn't help the grin that spread on his faced, and he found that forcing thoughts of Voldemort from his head became manageable at the sight of his friends. He reached them quickly, but before he could slide into the booth beside Hermione, she leapt up and gave him a tight hug.

"Oh Harry," she said brightly, pulling away. "It's been ages."

"You keep that up, he's going to suffocate," Ron remarked, before grinning at Harry from his seat. "All right, Harry?"

Ron was nearing six feet now, his body was tall and lanky and he had grown a bit into his once awkward height. He was grinning, sporting a very modern, muggle haircut.

"I thought you didn't do muggle studies," Harry noted, poking at the flame-colored chunks of hair.

"Definitely not studies," Ron said, feigning a look of disgust and batting Harry's hand away. "Muggle styles, why not? Do you like it?"

"I'm sure he loves it," Hermione huffed exasperatedly, rolling her eyes and looking at Harry knowingly. "He's been asking total strangers if they liked it all morning."

"Better than your Prince Sylliam's, I reckon," Ron said defiantly, standing up to catch a glance of himself in the mirror behind the bar.

"Its Prince William, Ron" Hermione shot back. "And no, he's much more dashing than you. Now sit down before you embarrass yourself, or worse--us."

She leaned to her left as a crumple napkin sailed her way. Harry noted that she too, had changed, so gradually in the past four years, that only now was it noticeable. Her face was more slender now, taking on adult features, and her once very frizzy hair had begun to soften into a smaller...fluff. The reduction of her teeth size had created incredible differences in her smile, which now beamed.

"Congrats on being made a Prefect," Harry spoke up, remembering Hermione's enthused letter he had received early in the summer.

"Thank you," she replied, her cheeks turning pink.

"Who'da guess, eh?" Ron breathed from the corner of his mouth.

"Came as a shock to me," Harry snorted.

"Oh, shut up," she retorted.

There was a small silence as they sat in each other company. Harry finally cleared his throat and spoke.

"I hear there's been some murders yesterday," he said nonchalantly.

Ron looked up at him, his ears turning slightly crimson.

"Oh, you heard?" he said blankly.

"Listen Harry," Hermione said quickly, her face fast becoming serious. "Don't let it get to you. Whatever's happening was pretty much inevitable because the Ministry's choosing to pretend You-Know-who isn't back..."

Harry tried to look unfazed.

"And that's not s'pose to get me?" he said surprising himself by the snappiness of his voice; a tone that was a direct result of the bitterness cultured from the events of last year. "Fudge seems to believe I'm barking mad and Voldemort's a figment of my over-active imagination."

Harry instantly regretted his words as Ron and Hermione flinched, exchanging uncomfortable grimaces.

"My Dad says they don't want to start a panic," Ron said, lowering his voice. "They don't want to connect the murder with You-Know-Who--they claim it's because the Dark Mark hasn't been spotted yet."

"Can I get you kids anything?" Tom, the missing-tooth innkeeper had appeared at their table.

All three slid back against the booth, dropping the subject and turning to meet the gummy smile.

"How bout some chilled juice?" Tom added, wiping his hands on his bar towel. He cast a pity-filled glance at Harry who struggled not to grow irritated.

"That'd be great," Harry managed, forcing a smile for the benefit of the man. Tom brought them some sort of pumpkin cocktail, and they sipped their juice for a few minutes before Harry reminded them of his limited amount of time.

With three and a half hours to spare, they entered Diagon Alley, making a silent agreement to forget the news and enjoy the day.

"Feels great to be back!" Hermione said closing her eyes and breathing deeply.

"Yeah," Harry agreed. Anywhere without the Dursleys felt great.

"It would, eh Hermione?" Ron said plucking at invisible lint on his shirt.

"And what's that suppose to mean?" Hermione queried a bit spicily.

"Nothing..."Ron returned evenly. "Just after spending all that time with Krum...I figured it's nice to return to somewhere so...warm."

"Er...Ron..." Harry said warningly.

"Come off it," Hermione replied hotly. "Would you leave me alone about Viktor if I got you another autograph?" Ron scowled and was about to make a retort, but decided against it when he caught the look on Harry's face.

"Come on then," he sighed, stepping ahead of Harry and Hermione. "Quidditch Supplies first--got to balance out scholastic endeavors with a little pleasure."

         Before Harry knew it, he, Ron, and Hermione were heading back to the Leaky Cauldron, their arms laden with bags and parcels. Harry enjoyed the day thoroughly, bumping into friends (and enemies, but even Malfoy failed to put Harry in a bad mood) all over Diagon Alley.     Â

"So you can give me a ride to King's Cross, right?" Harry asked Hermione, as they entered the back door of the Cauldron.

"Sure," she replied before pausing thoughtfully, no doubt remembering her first encounter with the Dursleys. "We'll be there early September first."

Suddenly a flash of identical, redheaded boys flew past them.

"You didn't see us!" one of the Weasley twins hollered over his shoulder.

"Brilliant impression of blazing fire you two are doing!" Ron called after them.Â

"What do you s'pose those two have done this time?" Harry inquired as they walked through the Cauldron and approached the twins, who were now huddled in a corner table up front. They seem ready to burst with laughter and lack of air.

"Harry!" George said reaching up and slapping him on the shoulder. "Missed you, sorry to hear you couldn't stay this summer." Fred was nodding his head in agreement, his muscular shoulders trembling with laughter.

"We did some experimental testing on our latest product today," said Fred finally.

"Our original Tooth to Tusk sprinkles--a new line from Weasley Wizard Wheezes," George said pulling a small bottle of said topping from his pocket.

"One dash and your teeth become tusks."

Ron quickly glanced at Hermione who now had one hand pressed against her mouth.

"Whom did you...tusk?" she mumbled consciously through her fingers. The big teeth issue hit close to home for her.

"Draco Malfoy," Fred said nonchalantly, taking the sprinkles from George and putting them into his pocket. "He sure likes sprinkles on his knickerbockers glories, doesn't he, George?"

"The Tooth to Tusk sprinkles were a success," noted George pointedly. Motioning them closer, he added, "The tusks were so heavy Malfoy nose-dived head first into his ice cream. He looked like an underfed walrus in beach foam."

They all burst out laughing, and even Hermione couldn't manage to suppress a chortle.

"Imagine Malfoy with tusk," Fred gasped. "Thrashing in a dish of ice cream."

"Sorry we missed it," Harry said just as a loud honking demanded his attention. They all looked up to find the Dursley's immaculate car parked impatiently in a metered spot.

 Harry, still grinning, painfully pulled himself up from the table. Hastily said his goodbyes and gathered up his parcels, making for the door.

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Lily Potter climbed into the grotto and pressed on alone into the rather foreboding arms of the darkness. She stooped to avoid smacking her head on the roof of rock.

"Lumos," Lily whispered before making any more attempts to going forward. Far below, she could hear the echo of James's heavily stressed sigh, which made her smile.

"Good," she muttered. "Let him suffer a bit."

The pendant would be hidden amongst challenges and guarded by a sort of guardian, whose own protection was unbeknownst to Lily. The passage seemed to wind downwards slightly and she had to fight the claustrophobia that strove to grip her as she pressed herself against the stone walls.

In the distance the steady dripping of water echoed and she pressed on, following the sound. At last, she arrived at the stone shores of a cave lake. The meager light of the wand seemed to drown in the dark water, which softly reflected mounted torches alit with eerie green flames. Using a tricky little charm, she enlarged the range of light and saw that it cast into view a bobbing gondola. She squinted her eyes and instinctually stepped back from the shore. Standing as still as the stone making up the cave, was a strange, emaciated figure with clawed, black hands clutched around an oar. It was cloaked in black and Lily could only make out the top of its twisted, oily-black face and lamp-like eyes.

"A water ghoul," she muttered staring at the figure as it began to push the little boat towards her.

"Gollum I am called," it said in a voice that seemed to tear the air around it. "But a riddle that is not."

"What is your price for crossing the lake?" Lily asked struggling to keep her face stolid.

" An impossible price," it replied snidely. "A wrong answer from Gollum."

"But it must be possible if others have gotten to the pendant before," she remarked, equally snide. The creature flinched ever so slightly.

"It is in the past and Gollum knows all of the past."

"Sure you do."

Gollum creature hissed unpleasantly in return as it pushed the boat to the shore.

"Gollum and Human will take turns asking riddles," it rasped, "until either Human or Gollum guesses wrong. If Gollum guesses wrong, Gollum will take Human to the other side." The ghoul was becoming thoroughly giddy now.

"If Human guesses wrong, Human will be supper for Gollum."

"Wow," Lily murmured thoughtfully. "What a bargain! I figured a blood-curdling fellow like yourself would charge me my soul or still-beating heart at the least."

"Gollum likes hearts," the creature hissed, salivating. "Gollum likes them sliced thin."

"Yes, lovely," Lily answered. Inside, she was shaking with revulsion, but she was buying herself some time to think of a riddle. It was Remus who was good at these things, not her.

"Not particularly my flavor," she managed. "Personally I like a nice steak and kidney pudding...cooked, of course."

"No more wasting eternity," Gollum finally choked. Obviously the thought of eating something other than cold, blind, fish from the cave lake was too delightful to bear.

"All right," Lily sighed exasperatedly. It was taking her ever thought to remain cool and quick. She thought of her Old English class she had taken after her years at Hogwarts and came up with several difficult riddles that could curdle the brain.

" 'Oft must I with wave strive and with wind fight,

together against them contend, when I depart seeking

wave-covered earth; foreign is land to me,

I am strong for that strife if I become still;

if I fail of that, they are stronger than I.

wish to carry away the thing I protect.

I withstand that if my tail holds out

and stout stones can hold me

fast against them.'"

Something that vaguely resembled a grin formed upon Gollum's wretched face.

"That one was old," it murmured. "But young compared to Gollum. The riddle speaks of an anchor."

"Yeah, well," Lily replied evenly. "I thought I'd start off easy...give you a bit of a hope."Â

The water ghoul grunted and cleared its slimy throat to begin its riddle.

" 'Moth ate words. It seemed to me

a curious chance, when that wonder I learned,

that the worm for swallowed some man's song,

thief in darkness the glorious speech

and its foundation. Thievish guest was

no whit the wiser for swallowing words.' "

Its grin was satisfied as the one on Lily's face faltered. She chose to recline on the protruding stone behind her to make up for the flimsy grin. The wheels where going so frantically in her mind she feared its cacophonous gears would be audible to Gollum.

"A rather old one," Lily murmured.

"Gollum is master of the past."

Lily ran the words through her mind over and over again. It seemed to me a curious chance, when that wonder I learned, that the worm for swallowed some man's song...It was a creature that fed on the words of men...Thievish guest was no whit the wiser for swallowing words...but whatever 'it' was, it couldn't be smart enough to understand them. Just then she remembered a similar riddle James had tattooed into her school books their sixth year to no doubt, infuriate her.

"It's a book worm," she replied. The face of the ghoul fell, but he had no time to react as she had begun her next.

"'What is the beginning of eternity? The end of time and space. The beginning of every end. And the end of every place?'"

"The letter E," the creature replied amused. Lily was taken aback by it nimbleness and her crest-fallen face said it. Gollum cackled dryly and continued in a mocking manner.

"Gollum's turn. 'What is it that goes up and goes down but does not move?'"

"Er..." Lily was stumped. The creature had retaliated on her simple riddle with one that was equally bare of clues. As of now, the only thing she could think of that didn't move but was yammering about enough to make her queasy was her brain.

"Hold on..."

"Gollum will try," it murmured, slipping a gray tongue from its black, bladed, mouth.

"What goes up and down, but doesn't move?" Lily whispered, furrowing her brows. It was becoming difficult to concentrate on the riddle now that she was wondering if she could possibly survive if she shot a curse at the creature before making a dash to the grotto. She knew, however that the agreement to play a water ghoul's game was magically binding. Lily's hands were shaking now and she crossed her arms to hide them.

The ghoul was beginning to cackle again and the sound echoed a chilling note throughout the cavern.

"Its erm...." fear clutched at Lily's throat as she tried to answer the riddle. She was beginning to wonder if it would hurt to die, if she would ever see James again, have their child, or even see the sun...

"That's it!" Lily exclaimed suddenly. "The sun! It goes up and down, but never moves!" Gollum was suddenly struck silent as if Lily had reached out the few feet out over the water and slapped him.

"Human is good at guessing," it muttered. "It is Human's turn."

Lily was gripped by fear again. Thinking up riddles became most complicated when one was about to be ripped apart and served as a delicacy.

"All right," she began, returning to her reclined position on the rock. The first (and only) riddle that came to mind was a ridiculous one that was more joke than brainteaser. It was all she had left.

"Hurry," the creature insisted. "Gollum's stomach calls for flesh."

"Hold on!" she exclaimed, thoroughly nerve-wracked.

"The magic that binds this agreement is old," Gollum replied. "But my hunger is older." Lily was forced to spit out her ridiculous riddle.

" 'Two fellows are alone in the desert, one is dead. The one who is alive has an empty pack while the dead man has something in his. What's in the dead fellow's pack?' "Â

The water ghoul was silent. Lily thought that her heart had stopped.

"It is...It is..." Gollum began curling its body a bit. "One dead...one alive...what's in the dead fellow's pack?" Lily swallowed and struggled to grin.

"Could you hurry? I'm a bit hungry," she said smugly.

Time began to crawl by, and Lily was amazed it could not guess the answer.

"Well?" she pressed. Suddenly, she was thrown back by a horrifying shriek that rippled through her entire body. Gollum cried out again and with hasty hands, it propelled the gondola forward until it grounded inches from Lily. Gollum reached out and snatched Lily's collar, pulling her to her feet.

"Gollum knows it's...Gollum knows it's..." its breath was rancid and Lily swallowed the urge to retch.

"Gollum knows it's what?" she shot with eyes narrowed. Slowly, its black-clawed hands let go of her and she stumbled away.

"Gollum does not know..." it murmured. It moved in its gondola to reveal a seat, which Lily took reluctantly.

"On your return, Human will find a bridge only usable from the other shore."

She had done it. She had defeated the ghoul's game. In silence, the creature propelled the boat to the unseen shore on the other side. Lily's hands right hand began to ach and she noticed that she was clenching her fist around her wand. At last, the craft grounded and she brushed past the cloaked creature. Before she could take more than a few steps however, it called to her.

"Human will not tell the answer?" it asked. For a moment she nearly took pity on the creature...before she remembered it wanted to eat her.

"A parachute was in the dead man's pack," she answered and quickly departed into another dark passageway, leaving Gollum to ponder why it was the dead man with a parachute in his pack and not the live one and his empty stomach. She did not see a boy with dark, untamed hair and green eyes that reflected her own, watching from a rock island in the water. How could she if she was only a dream?