Harry Potter and the Guardian of Lost Souls

Harry Potter and the Guardian of Lost Souls

Disclaimer: All of the characters from the HP Books belong to J.K. Rowling. Merlin under no circumstances belongs to me. (Obviously...) The whole idea of the Light and the Darkness kind of came from "The Dark is Rising" sequence but not really. The plot, I'm very proud to say, is mine as is the character "Ralstin". To the best of my knowledge, Merlin never had an apprentice.

A.N. Hey everyone! This is my first attempt at a full length (book-sized) Harry Potter fanfiction. It might be a bit dark at the beginning, but hey! Harry´s having a hard time, I mean Voldemort´s back and he has no idea what´s going to happen to him. He´s feeling a bit tortured right now, but that´s where Ginny is supposed to help... *wink*....

Prologue:

"Esh vamim asartu aduma tavo kesim koluram!"

The words rang clear and echoed throughout the great stone hall, bouncing off the walls and ringing from the dripping ceiling. A fire was ablaze in the center of the room spreading light and warmth everywhere save the darkest and most hidden corners and crevices, while the constant drip-drip from above caused it to sizzle every few seconds.

Merlin of the Light circled around the fire chanting the spell, his voice rising in volume and power. His hands shook violently as he scattered more powder into the flames causing them to erupt momentarily in red and gold sparks. His body could barely contain the unnaturally powerful and magical soul that possessed it. Indeed, the prophets had been correct. Merlin was to become the greatest wizard to have ever been known.

He finished his circling and stood before a small wooden table, damp from it´s prolonged existence in the hall and chipped from overuse. A book lay open upon it, it's words shimmering gold in the faint light. It seemed to whisper secrets unknown to man save a chosen few. The words were scattered into the silence and lost there.

"Accio Libro." The book flew into Merlin's outstretched hand as lightly as a leaf is carried in a gusting wind. It fell open magically to the wizard's desired page- an empty page. He began to mutter words and as he spoke, the book transcribed them onto itself:

~Spell of Protection against the Powers of Darkness~

-This spell will conceive an aura of purest light, which will bind itself to he that the caster wishes to protect, himself or another. It should not be used except in dire need, when no other chance of escape presents itself. The reason is simple, each time the spell is used, it will remove five years of life from the one to use it.

Merlin paused, looking up from his work. He had heard a noise outside the great wooden doors at the northern end of the hall. It sounded like something that shouldn´t be there. Something was amiss.

Suddenly, he gasped, a sharp pain gripped his heart and the doors were flung open and torn from their hinges. A dark wind swept the room and the great fire was extinguished, plunging Merlin into utter darkness. He remained still and silent, feeling the presence of evil enter the hall. He heard footsteps echo all around him and someone taking ragged breaths.

"Who are you?!" Merlin boomed. "Show yourself Agent of Darkness!"

The footsteps stopped and he heard a short contemptuous laugh, followed by a whisper that held almost as much power as his own voice had. "Merlin."

Pillars of green fire sprang up around him and the great wizard was temporarily blinded by the sudden blazing light. When he regained his sight he looked around to face he who had dared challenge him. But his heart turned to ice and his breath caught in his chest when he recognized the familiar figure of his apprentice- the boy he had taken under his wing seven years ago to teach and train so that one day, he might have a predecessor to stand against the darkness when he was gone.

"Ralstin." He muttered and his hand clutched at his throat in the shock of his betrayal. He couldn´t bring himself to process that this had been the boy all his hopes had ridden on. But Ralstin no longer appeared a boy. His face was contorted in an expression of fury and hatred and his eyes reflected only contempt and deceit.

"Yes, dear teacher." He mocked, "Ralstin. The little apprentice, always doing his master´s bidding and learning his lessons. You hung so many hopes on me that you were blind to the fact that I truly despised the Light. Why do things the hard way and be always on the losing side, when the Darkness has so much to offer for almost nothing in return. Nothing but my soul. And let me tell you, oh great one," Ralstin lowered his voice to a whisper, "It was already theirs."

"How could you betray me?" Merlin asked, his voice choked with unshed tears. "I loved you as a son!!!" His shout rang through the empty chamber; the echoes of his pain and grief going on long after the wizard fell silent.

Ralstin laughed evilly. "You foolish old man. You´re finished. I know your secrets, I know your magic and I know your power." He paused and looked gleefully at Merlin. "You taught them to me."

He barely had time to allow this information to sink in before Ralstin conjured a great black ball of fire and flung it at him. He was thrown back against the wall with a force that would have killed anybody else. Ralstin knew his magic, Merlin thought dazedly, he had taught it to him- wandless magic, the most powerful of all

He knew what must be done. He quickly let go the fact that he had loved Ralstin, he let go all memories of their time together. It was necessary. To defeat him, he had to separate himself from him. It was the only way to win.

Merlin shook himself and in one moment he brushed aside Ralstin the eager apprentice boy. Instead, there stood before him a tool of the Darkness- one that needed to be defeated.

Another fireball came his way but he dodged off to the side and got to his feet. The wall behind him crumbled apart.

"The Darkness demands your soul Merlin!" Ralstin shouted over the noise of crumbling rock and mortar. He prepared yet another ball of black flames. "Your secrets are valuable but not as much as your essence, your spirit!" He flung the flames in his hands at the wizard, who jumped behind a cauldron in the far corner of the hall.

"My soul?!" Merlin shouted amused. "Has the Darkness become so disillusioned as to think that it would ever possess me?! Ha!!!" His clear voice carried over the crashes of the hall coming down around them. He concentrated his mind on his opponent and stretched out his hand, shaking slightly with his welling power. With a force that shook the foundations of the Earth around him, Merlin raised Ralstin from the ground and flung him through the ceiling. He then levitated himself to follow him. He landed in the clearing just outside what had once been a hall of the Light and was now a crumbling wreck. Ralstin stood at the opposite end breathing in gasping breaths but with all the fury of evil dancing in his eyes.

"Give it up, old man!" He called to him. "I'm just as powerful as you are but younger and stronger. You can't hurt me! No matter what you do."

Merlin looked at Ralstin almost lazily, a small smile playing on his lips. He prepared the spell in his mind, the one that would finish him off. "Ah! But you forget your lessons, my young apprentice. He who believes himself all powerful, has clearly overlooked his pride, and that will be his downfall."

Ralstin´s eyes grew wide as Merlin began to chant his most recent spell.

"Esh vamim asartu aduma tavo kesim koluram!" Merlin began to feel a change in his body, as if one of his resources was being used up, he knew that it was only five years of his life being turned into pure light to protect him. He continued his chant. "Esh vamim asartu aduma tavo kesim koluram!" Ralstin was getting ready to attack, the sky was getting dark and the wind blew stronger than before. He raised his hands, preparing to finish Merlin off.

"ESH VAMIM ASARTU ADUMA TAVO KESIM KOLURAM!"

Ralstin hit just as Merlin was surrounded in an aura of white light made of his own life force. The great ball of Darkness surrounded Merlin for a moment that seemed to last an eternity before rebounding off of him in Ralstin´s direction. Merlin heard a scream of pain and defeat and then everything exploded. He was flung backwards and hit the ground hard. Green flames came up all around him, destroying everything remotely near the blast. The wind still blew and the rain came pouring down upon the devastation. And then silence.

When everything cleared away, Merlin stood uncertainly, looking around him for a sign of Ralstin. He let his memories come flooding back to him, and the impact brought him to his knees.

He had loved him like a son.

He heard a rustling in the remains of the trees to his right. Merlin rushed over to where an almost lifeless Ralstin came crawling out of the brush on his hands and knees, before toppling onto his side, barely breathing.

Merlin knelt beside him and held his head in his hands.

"Ralstin, can you hear me?"

The traitor´s eyes flickered open and for a moment, Merlin thought he could see a remnant of the boy he´d loved. Then he blinked and it was gone.

"Ralstin, you can still change your ways. The Light always grants second chances to those who are willing to go back. Say you will return to the Light and that you will throw off the Darkness." He pleaded with him, even though he knew in his heart that it was no use. "Say you will return to me. Say it!!"

In his last moment of consciousness, Ralstin smiled victoriously. "I am and will forever remain, slave to the dark. You will lose old man. Be sure of that." And with a last contemptuous glance, he fainted into unknowingness.

Merlin cried out in grief, not only for himself, but also for Ralstin and all those wretches to have ever fallen into evil. His own son might as well have betrayed him.

After a few moments of mourning his lost soul, Merlin stood and again separated himself from Ralstin, releasing and scattering to the winds all of the memories he held of him.

Ralstin was not dead. Merlin might have killed him there and then, but he decided that death was too lenient a punishment for him. Instead, he called upon the Powers of the Light to banish him from the world of the living. He sentenced him to an eternity of sorrow and suffering- forever to become the Guardian of the Lost Souls- the souls of those that had been given life- the greatest gift of all- only to waste it by causing grief to others. Souls that had surrendered to the ways of evil.

And even though he was banished, he still remained bound to the rules of time and space. Merlin stripped his magic from his body and disfigured blackened soul and so all knowledge of Ralstin and his betrayal passed forever from this world.

Or at least, it should have...

What Merlin never knew, was that something had survived that fateful battle between Light and Darkness. Indeed it was the Darkness itself that escaped, for Darkness may be discouraged for a time, but never quite defeated. It lives in the heart of every living being. Yes, the Darkness survived and carried the knowledge of Ralstin's punishment until it found the proper one to trust it to.

The secret of the Guardian would still be kept secret, but only until a time when the Darkness would seek to exploit it.

A time when Darkness was closer to defeating the Light than ever before...

Chapter one: Dreams and Despair.

A gentle breeze blew down Privet Drive as evening slowly fell and save the soft rustling of the leaves on the trees, all was still and silent. The quiet street had seen many wonders in times past but its occupants had remained oblivious to any and all strange happenings that had occurred there.

A large triple-decker purple bus appearing with a bang in the dead of night. Small explosions from number 4 Privet Drive. Flying motorcycles years before.

And a small baby, left on a doorstep, a letter clutched in its tiny fist as three people mysteriously disappeared without a trace. A boy who grew with no idea of his past save the lightning shaped scar on his forehead.

How he had survived for fifteen years was a mystery Harry Potter pondered as he climbed the stairs to the smallest bedroom, exhausted from a day´s work in the garden, pruning the roses and painting the fence. Life had not been kind to him, especially of late, and often Harry found himself wondering if any of it was worth the trouble.

When these thoughts appeared he chased them away almost as quickly as they´d shown up. Of course it was worth the trouble! Voldemort might have returned years ago.

"Ah! But he´s back now!" A tiny voice in his head would reply. "This time you didn´t stop him. If anything, you helped him! Cedric´s dead and more people will follow and it´s all your fault!" The taunting was enough to drive anyone mad, and so it was a very withdrawn Harry that returned to the Dursleys that fateful year for the summer.

His aunt, uncle and cousin gave him a wide-berth as usual, but as little as they cared to notice Harry, (unless he did something wrong) even they perceived a change in him, something that frightened them far more than his magic. There was something boiling deep inside him that went much deeper than his guilt or his fear. So deep, that Harry himself barely knew it was there. His power was growing, fuelled by his unspeakable hatred of Voldemort and all that he had done. A power of such magnitude that, if left untamed, could consume Harry and everything around him.

Harry Potter was no longer a little boy.

He reached his bedroom and staggered over to his bed, exhausted. He could barely keep his eyes open but he dared not sleep for fear he would dream again. That was another thing. Since the fateful events of his fourth year, Harry had barely had one good night´s sleep. He´d lay unconscious; muttering and twitching and occasionally crying out as visions of red eyes and flashing green lights passed through his mind.

One dream especially replayed itself over and over, night after night. A terrible pain in his scar, a flash of green light and lifeless grey eyes, staring into oblivion. Cedric, dead. He welcomed consciousness, only to dread the unrelenting taunts of his guilty conscience playing with his thoughts. If he´d done things differently, Cedric would be alive. He shouldn´t have let him take the cup. He should have told him to run the moment he knew something was wrong. He should have never been born...

Every time Harry closed his eyes he felt Him watching, waiting for the chance to kill him. Sometimes, Harry wished he´d just get it over with. Even death would be better than the life he was currently living. He barely ate and dreaded sleep. He´d become a mere shadow of his former self in only five weeks.

Harry sighed deeply as his eyelids began to droop. It would feel so good to sleep. So good to let go. He was so tired, so tired...

He drifted off into unknowingness. But only for a while...

The safety of the blackness around him began to swirl, making him remarkably dizzy. He was being thrown around on a dark wind of stale air, almost suffocating him, while the world around became clearer, sharp-edged but bleak. The wind stirred no tree or bush, it could not be heard, and in fact the only sign of its presence was its occupation of any breathable air and the dark swirling wisps and tendrils of smoke that blew forward, carrying Harry with them. Breathing was becoming difficult and he gasped for breath as the wind continued to carry him. Harry looked down as the wind flew him over a place that looked oddly familiar. Tall trees surrounding a clearing where jagged rocks protruded from the earth like sharp teeth. His stomach turned to ice and he felt he´d be sick when he realized that they weren´t rocks. They were tombstones. This was the place where he'd battled Voldemort only 2 months before. And there... right there, that was where Cedric... Harry felt his throat tighten unbearably and he looked away. There was nothing there now, but he´d half expected to see Cedric´s body lying there, untouched, intact... but dead.

The wind continued to carry Harry onward at a great speed, and as the shock wore off, he began to wonder what it was he sat on. He looked down and studied the strange substance. It was transparent, but barely, and it seemed to repel light and breeze and sound, making it seem utterly dark and black. Harry placed both of his hands on it and pushed. Nothing gave, but Harry started back as if he´d been burned. He´d felt something in there. Something evil, completely evil, something hiding a secret, one that Harry was sure meant only death and destruction. He suddenly found that he wished the wind weren´t solid, so he could fall through it and get away, but to no avail. He was a prisoner on an island of blackness, flying through the air towards the unknown.

Suddenly, he was plunged into darkness. He had no sense of direction whatsoever and for all he knew, he could have been floating upside down. Then slowly, light returned, dim, but light all the same. But what it showed him, Harry would rather not have seen.

He stood in the center of a great circle of cloaked and hooded figures. They were still and made no sound as they stood, apparently awaiting someone... or something. His breath caught in his chest as he looked around at the Death Eaters, more memories than he wished for flooding back to him at that moment. He gasped for air looking around at them, wondering why they didn´t pounce on him and attack. None of them seemed to notice he was there. Then all of the hoods turned in the same direction, staring at something behind Harry.

His heart beating faster than he thought possible, he turned around slowly. He already knew who he would see there. He dreaded it, the face that haunted him day and night. Terrorized his dreams and his waking thoughts. Harry´s head reeled when he saw him, Voldemort. His lips were twisted back in a grin of purest evil; his eyes held black fire. His sickly white, unnaturally long fingers curled and uncurled, into brittle but strong fists.

Harry couldn´t take this, not now. He was so tired, of everything. But then the demon began to speak and Harry´s thoughts were forgotten as his flesh crawled with goose bumps and his hair stood on end.

"My most "loyal" slaves," he began mockingly. "I have called you here because each and every one of you has failed me. Miserably!"

The Death Eaters cowered at their master´s fury.

"How did twenty "men", if you truly believe yourselves worthy to be called so, fail to bring me the one thing I truly desire? You were all sent out on the same mission and yet you have the nerve to stand before me, your master, empty handed?! It will not be tolerated! Crucio!" He pointed his wand at the Death Eater nearest him and his screams filled the air around Harry. He turned away from the writhing figure. Those screams were too familiar... too familiar.

Voldemort lifted his wand and the Death Eater fell to the floor crying like a child.

Harry watched as he began to pace around the inside of the circle, eyeing his servants as a vulture eyes its prey. Harry knew. Voldemort was going to kill them all. He suddenly found his legs couldn´t hold him and he sank to the floor holding himself tightly to keep from shivering with fear.

After he made a full circle of the group, he returned to his previous spot and looked upon them all with disgust. "I am appalled," he stated disdainfully, "that not even one of you was able to bring me Harry Potter."

Harry hugged himself even more tightly. He´d been wondering when his name would come up.

"I find you all pitiful excuses for servants! You´re barely worthy of my time to kill you!" The Death Eaters started in shock. Clearly this had not been what they were expecting, a few of them cried out in surprise.

Voldemort raised his wand to finish them off, one by one. Harry shut his eyes as tightly as he could, as if that would block the glow of green light. He waited for the screams and thuds as they came crashing down, dead before they hit the floor. But none of those sounds came; only bewildered murmurs. Harry slowly opened his eyes and gasped softly at what he saw, standing up quickly.

Voldemort was surrounded by the black wind that had carried him earlier. It spiralled around his feet and began to twist its way upward, until it covered him completely.

Harry thought he could make out whispers in the dank air, coming from the wind, but he couldn´t make out what was being said. And then, the most chilling sound of all, Voldemort began to laugh. But not a soft snicker, or even an evil cackle. His laughter went beyond madness. It was laughter of pure insanity and yet deep down, deadly determination. The wind disappeared, but whether it evaporated or was absorbed into Voldemort´s body, Harry didn´t know, and he didn´t want to know. All he wanted was to get away. Go anywhere else, away from the laughter that rang in his ears, away from the madman that killed for the fun of it, that had destroyed his family, away from himself to where he could be safe.

Voldemort stopped laughing and Harry saw something glint in his eyes- victory? He then muttered something under his breath, which only Harry heard, but did not understand. "You lose, old man..."

He laughed again as he raised his wand, and before Harry could look away, began to massacre the Death Eaters that stood there. Screams rent the air and Harry was frozen in terror, looking upon the sight that lay before him. He couldn´t move, he couldn't breathe. And then, as suddenly as it began, it stopped. Twenty Death Eaters lay dead on the ground and Voldemort stood among their bodies, satisfaction eminent on his face.

"You lose." He muttered one last time and was gone, leaving Harry in the midst of devastation. He tried to look away, but found that he couldn´t. He walked over to the nearest Death Eater and removed his mask.

And screamed. Cedric Diggory stared out at him from the black hood.

"NOOO!!!" Harry sat up straight in bed, his scar exploding with pain, drenched in sweat, tears on his face. He looked around his room as though looking for signs of where he had just been and what he had just seen. It was so straight, so tidy, so unreal. How could it be that there still existed places in the world oblivious to death and untouched by fear? He was shaking uncontrollably, trembling from head to foot. He couldn´t take it anymore; he was only fifteen for heaven´s sake! He couldn´t handle these things. He shouldn´t be expected to! Harry scrunched himself into the tightest ball he could, rocking back and forth and crying, heart rendering sobs that no one heard.

After a few minutes had passed, Harry lay back down in his bed, still shaking slightly. He wondered momentarily, how it was for other kids to awake from nightmares to find their mothers there to comfort them.

He didn´t have the faintest idea.

"Mum," he whispered softly to himself as he pulled his covers tightly around him.

The boy who lived then continued to cry himself to sleep.