In Search of Sirius: The Land of the Living Dead

Chapter Five: The Shade of Voldemort

The birds beat about their heads, flapping with powerful wings.

"Protego," cried Harry, waving his wand as he tried to fend one of them off.

"Impedimenta!" shrieked Hermione.

"Stupefy!" That was Ron.

None of the curses had the slightest effect. They were bleeding now, from the creatures' vicious pecks. Their arms were curled around their heads.

"NUTRIRENS!" shouted a fourth voice.

The birds wheeled around.

"Kaaaa - kaaa - kaaa."

Looking up, Harry saw with astonishment that Snape was standing a few yards away. He was pulling what appeared to be pieces of bread from his pocket, and tossing it the birds; they were diving down hungrily to eat it. Their cries muted.

Snape strode over.

"Well, Potter," he drawled. "What a ...pleasant....surprise."

"Those birds..." Harry gasped, too shocked to really take in the presence of Snape.. "What -"

"Bane Birds," Snape said dismissively, with a supercilious curl of the lip. "Easily neutralised with a simple feeding spell. They are only dangerous at sunset anyway. They are harmless at any other time."

"And that man, that man on the table - "

"A dream. A memory. Once, long ago, a man named Prometheus angered the gods....It is well you did not try to save him, Potter, or you would have shared his fate. Ah, you did want to try? Yes.. I rather thought you might...."

"What are you doing here?" Harry blurted. "And how did you find us?"

Snape raised his eyebrows. "Well, Potter, oddly enough Professor Dumbledore seemed to think you might be rather out of your depth in this little venture of yours. That is why I am here.

"As to how I located you, do you not even know that our kind of wizardry stands out in this place of old magic like a beacon? I am disappointed, Miss Granger. I thought that you, at least, might have stirred yourself to do some elementary research. Or is the belief that you already know everything too firmly embedded for you to have taken the trouble?"

"Leave Hermione alone!" Ron put in fiercely. "She's been great, we'd never have got this far without her..."

"That, at least," Snape said nastily, "I can well believe."

Harry's ire was gradually rising.

"Stop talking to us like that!" he snapped at Snape. "We're not at Hogwarts now!"

"No," Snape returned silkily. "We are not, are we? The question only remains, how best to get of all us back there."

"Back?" Harry exclaimed incredulously. "I'm not going back! We're nearly there, we've got to go and get Sirius."

"I'm afraid," said Snape, examining his fingernails. "you appear to be labouring beneath a misapprehension - do not point your wand at me, Mr Weasley, or I will stun you here and now!"

"There are three of us," Harry stated bluntly, folding his arms. "We are not going back. "Well -" he hesitated. "I'm not- "

Hermione and Ron moved closer to him, and flanked him shoulder to shoulder.

"We're staying with Harry," Hermione announced

"Do you have any - ". Snape stopped suddenly, as if startled. A vein began to throb in his forehead.

"Wait!" he snapped out. "Wait here.. there is something I need to see about... And do not bother to run away, Mr Potter. I will find you easily enough. If you put me to that trouble I will be - less than pleased."

Snape strode away. Harry, Hermione and Ron exchanged puzzled glances. They were not, however, overly curious as to where Snape had gone: merely pleased that he had done so.

"Right," said Harry in a business-like way. "There's no time to lose. Concentrate, hard, on the Palace of Bones."

And they fled.

____________________________________________

Snape was clutching his arm. "What..." he muttered to himself. "How.."

It took him some time before he reached the grove from which the summons had come. He flitted across the shaded landscape, refreshing himself from time to time with the water he had brought with him. Nothing, alive or dead, troubled his passage. An eerie silence lay across the land.

Finally, he reached his destination. He paused, then stepped through the trees. As he entered the clearing in the centre of the grove, he flung himself prostrate on the ground.

"Master..." he breathed. "I did not expect to see you here."

It was not Voldemort, risen and returned. It was a shade of Voldemort, a grey and ghostly figure whose eyes flared only palely.

"Snape," the Dark Lord hissed. "I have a job for you, Snape."

"Anything, Master." Snape kept his face pressed close to the ground.

"As you see, Snape, my mastery extends to the Land of Mag Mell...part of the enchantment which enabled me to resist death for so long binds some of my essence to this place... I have very little power here...but I can watch, from time to time...and as you see, I can also summon my faithful servants."

"You are always surprising, my lord," said Snape sincerely.

"Harry Potter is in this land, Snape. You know this, do you not? The fool Dumbledore sent you after him..."

"That is so, my lord."

"He will not leave this place, Snape. See to it."

"It will be my pleasure, my lord," Snape breathed.

"I shall accompany you, Snape. I will enjoy watching Harry Potter die... he has escaped me for too long now."

"My master is gracious."

"Come then, Snape. Lead me to Potter... I shall keep out of sight so as not to arouse his suspicions until the last moment...but I shall be there, watching..."

Snape grovelled at Voldemort's ghostly feet for a few moments longer, then rose and set off once more. He divined on the wind the direction Harry, Hermione and Ron had taken from the trail their magic had burned into the air. He could no longer see Voldemort. But he knew he was there.

_________________________________________

Harry, Hermione and Ron were parched, hungry and exhausted. They had run, and run, through grey mists which never seemed to lift and through which they could see nothing.

At last, they came to the shores of a river. They collapsed, wheezing, on its banks. A boat was moored to the jetty. Harry staggered to his feet and made as if to reach out for it.

"Don't!" croaked Hermione. "Remember - what - woman said. Can only use what is our own .... .might need to pay... might not like price..."

Harry subsided, panting, onto the grass.

"Suggestions - then - 'Mione?"

Hermione was regaining her breath. "Well," she said. "I suppose we could levitate over - no, too risky, there's a breeze, it might take us off course. A thruster spell? So we can jump?"

"I don't know one of those!"

Hermione looked at Ron. "I do," she pointed out simply.

They adopted Hermione's suggestion. The three of them landed hard on the other side of the river. As soon as their feet touched the ground, there was one of those disconcerting moments when the world span around and reorganized itself into different patterns of colour and shape.

A sunny valley lay before them. Its hillsides were picture-postcard green. Bovine-looking creatures dozed in the warmth. (Ron looked at these with great suspicion. But as far as he could tell they really were only cows: not a fang in sight.)

Best of all to Harry's eyes, rising majestically in the shelter of the valley was a pale and beautiful palace. It was tall, and gleamed with soft rainbows of colour as though made entirely of mother of pearl. Its fragile spires pierced the sky in a sort of lace made of bones. Under the touch of the sun, it glowed.

"The Palace of Bones!" Harry whispered. His heart was starting to race. He turned to Ron and Hermione with a joyful smile. "Look! The Palace of Bones!"

They picked their way speedily down the valley slopes. No danger threatened. The whole valley seemed to bask in the sunshine.

"What do we do?" Hermione murmured softly as they grew nearer. "Just - go up to the front door and knock?"

"I don't know," Harry said. "We'll find some way...we've got this far..."

The magnificence of the Palace stunned them even more as they walked into its shadow. Peace lay on it like a mantle. Its very presence soothed them, even Harry, whose nerves were now wound up to a high pitch.

A tiny door was opening in the side of the Palace. A figure came out. It was walking towards them, no, running: it was a man, young and good-looking with glossy dark hair -

"SIRIUS" yelled Harry, leaping forward. "SIRIUS! Oh, Sirius -"

__________________________________________

Snape arrived at the banks of the river.

"It won't be long now, my master," he said softly. "They are close. I can feel it."

Chapter Six: At the Palace Gates

Harry burst into a run. He pelted towards Sirius with tears already beginning to gather in his eyes, his arms held wide, and his heart stopped in his chest.

Sirius grabbed Harry as soon as he could. He hugged him, hard, then swung him round.

"You seem to have grown already, Harry!" he said. "I can hardly do that now..."
Hermione and Ron were close behind Harry, clutching their hands to the stitches in their sides. Hermione's eyes suddenly widened.

"Harry!" she yelled sharply. "Don't let go!"

Harry turned his head, a huge grin on his face. He was still clutching his Godfather as if he could not believe he was real.

"I mean it, Harry!" Hermione called again. "Hold on!"

Harry opened his mouth to ask her what on earth she was talking about, when Sirius began to change in his arms. Before Harry's appalled gaze, Sirius turned into a voluptuous woman. Her lips pouted and her breasts pressed against him.

"Hello, Harry," she murmured seductively. Harry was about to raise his arms in horror and drop whatever thing it was he had in his arms, but Hermione's words finally registered.

"Do not let go!"

Harry clung on to the woman's shoulders. She smiled lusciously; it turned into a leer, and when she opened her mouth, it was to bare a neat array of bloodstained fangs. Harry made a revolted noise; but still, he held on.

A hiss of rage escaped the thing. It became, in swift succession, a spiny creature, which caused blood to spout from Harry's hands and arms; a dreadful slimy thing which smelt of putrefaction and worse; a butterfly, which only Harry's Seeker skills enabled him to catch and hold on to; and a rock so heavy that both it and Harry crashed to the earth. Harry narrowly avoided being squashed.

A low, churning noise of rage came from somewhere. Suddenly Harry found himself holding a fire-breathing wyvern; he narrowly dodged its fiery breath in his face, and cursed because he could not both use his wand and hang on to the thing.

But Hermione was there: jets of water streamed from the tip of her wand and extinguished its flames. It transformed into a ball of fire, too intense for any water to extinguish, and Harry screamed in pain from holding on to it.

Hermione's wand was out again, and Harry found himself, disconcertingly, shaped into an icebucket. The flame changed again; Harry found himself back in his own shape, wielding an ice-axe; this was then a circular saw, which began to whir in Harry's hands; Harry became a stone wheel which locked the saw in place. With a distant screech of annoyance, the saw became a shadow; and Hermione turned Harry into a box.

"All right, all right," a voice said irritably. "Fine. You can let me out now."

Hermione waved her wand. Harry found himself face to face with a short individual who looked rather like what Muggles would call a gnome. (There were, of course, real gnomes in the magical world; and they looked nothing like Muggles thought they did.)

"Hmph. No need to grip a fellow so hard," he said huffily, straightening his clothes.

"Who are you?" Harry demanded. Now that the adrenalin rush of the battle had begun to fade, the most enormous wave of disappointment was beginning to break over him.

"I am the Keeper," the short, fat man said with dignity. "The Watcher. The Warden. The Protec-"

"All right, all right I get the idea." Harry glared at him. "I thought you were my Godfather. Where is he?"

The Keeper gave him an enigmatic look. "He is in the Palace of Bones, of course."

"Fine. Let's be going then, shall we?" Harry said to Ron and Hermione.

"Not so fast, young gentlemen. Not so fast. You have won the right to hear the entrance fee. This means you will not get summarily executed at the door for failing to tender the correct payment." He beamed.

"Entrance fee?"

"Yes, of course. Nothing for nothing round here, my good friend. Oh no. We are the ultimate free market...which means of course that nothing is free at all..."

"Get on with it." Harry folded his arms.

"Hasty, young gentlemen, that's what you are. Hasty. Now then. Now let me see.... Ah yes. Entrance and visiting rights to the Palace of Bones. I take it you will only be requiring entrance for one?"

"What is the entrance price for three?"

"Five pints of human blood," the creature said promptly. "Spilled in the traditional way, with a sacred silver axe. But you needn't worry about that bit. We are very happy to provide the axe."

"OK, let's hear the entrance fee for one then."

"A spoonful of grain," the gnome-like being recited. "A hank of raw wool. And a handful of salt."

"Well," Harry said slowly. "That doesn't sound too bad. And if I bring these to you, to the Palace gates, I get let in?"

"Yes."

"I get to see Sirius?"

"Yes."

"Nobody will harm me while I am in there?"

"No."

"And I get to come out again?"

"In this timeframe?" Hermione interjected.

"Yes, yes, yes. What do you think we are trying to do? Trick you or something?"

Harry snorted, and began to turn. "Oh - one last thing.

"What now?"

"Is there an expiry date on this deal? I mean, if I come back in three hours with all the stuff, will you say the fee has since changed and chop my head off?"

"No," the creature huffed. "This is our standing offer."

"Right. Come on, then, Hermione and Ron. Let's go and figure this one out..."

Harry's energy levels were rising again at the prospect of really, actually seeing Sirius. Ron, however, noticed the look on Hermione's face.

"Hermione..." he said hesitantly. "What is it? This doesn't sound too bad, does it? I mean, they're fairly common things to get hold of."

Hermione paused. "Harry. Oh - Harry, I don't want to disappoint you! But, these things...where are we going to get them from?"

"Well, they're all around us, aren't they? Raw wool, right over there, that looks like sheep don't you think, up on that hillside? Grain, I can see some sort of crop from here. Salt, I dunno, but it isn't exactly rare, is it - "

"But Harry," Hermione wailed. "Don't you remember what the woman - man - whatever - said to us at the sea shore? 'Remember, everything has a price. Everything. You may only use what is truly your own, and what you take but do not pay for, you will forfeit in the sacrifice of your living flesh'."

Harry set his chin. "Well, we'll give the sheep a handful of grass in payment or something."

"Which is also not ours to give," Hermione pointed out.

"So what are you suggesting, Hermione?" Harry yelled out, whirling round on her. "That we just give up, after coming this far?

"No," Hermione began patiently, "but..."

Ron interrupted them. "Er, Harry, Hermione - I think we have other things to worry about right now as well."

They broke off, and turned in the direction towards which Ron was gesturing. Snape was standing there. He looked very tall, very grim, and a sneer was twitching around his mouth.

"Good evening, Potter," he drawled. "I think it is about time we put an end to this little comedy of yours...."

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