Harry Potter and the Lightning Thief - Chapter 10 - Hermione and the Oracle's Message (Patreon)

Reaching the top floor, Harry stood at the top of the staircase, looking down the dimly lit corridors that seemed to stretch far beyond where the walls of the house of the house should have been, noticing that the walls were lines with old portraits of various youths posing in a variety of ways, their silent gazes seeming to stare at him as he slowly started walking away from the staircase.

“Just keep following the stairs up,” Chiron’s voice echoed in his ears. “You’ll find the Oracle awaiting you in the attic.”

Harry took a deep breath as he looked down the hallway spotting a narrow, rickety staircase about halfway down the corridor, leading up to an open trapdoor in the ceiling. With only a slight hesitation Harry shook off the indecisiveness and headed towards the stairs, before climbing them carefully and hoisting himself into the attic.

The attic itself was dimly lit, only illuminated by a few stary beams of the afternoon sun that were managing to filter through a window so dusty that Harry had not realized it was a window in the first place. As Harry took a breath in, he noticed the air was thick with the scent of old parchment, dried herbs, and … snakes.

As his eyes slowly adjusted to the gloom of the room, he began to notice various relics scattered throughout the room, reach one seemingly giving off an aura and the more he looked around the room, the more he began to notice that the room was absolutely packed with stuff, from armor stands covered in all sizes of cobweb coated suits of armor, more types of weapons than he could even attempt to guess their names, steamer trunks with stickers of weird sounding places, and glass jars filled with all manner of weird things.

Looking over the near wall his gaze caught on a shield that was more plain than the rest of the shields in the room, while the other shields had various designs and emblems on them, this one was polished to an almost mirror-like condition and as he stared at the polished surface he saw what looked like a faint imprinted image of a lady with the weirdest hair he’d ever seen. Shaking off the feelings of stiffness in his legs as he turned away his gaze stopped on a large bronze horn which was displayed on a pedestal in the corner. Feeling a slight pull towards the horn he slowly walked towards it noticing that the horn was intricately engraved with scenes of a great hunt. As he neared the pedestal his vision caught sight of the light reflecting off a glass case which housed a gleaming golden apple, a small plaque in front of it stating that it was from the Garden of the Hesperides. Taking a step past the glass case to make his way deeper into the room, his eyes settled on an ancient lyre which sat alone on top of a velvet-lined table. Even though, he assumed it had been years since it had been touched, much less played, judging by the amount of dust on it, the strings, though aged, seemed to hum with a faint catchy tune that he couldn’t place, bye seemed to remind him of Hedwig.

However, his inspection of the musical instrument was cut short as he heard a noise from the far side of the room, which immediately stood out due to the unsettling lack of noises that he heard and caused him to make his way over to the other side of the room. Yet when he arrived … there was nothing … only an ancient looking mummified female, that appeared to have shriveled to a husk.

As Harry leaned in to inspect the mummy, he nearly tripped backwards over a steamer trunk, that had been behind him, as he yelled out when the mummy sat upright in one swift movement and opened her mouth. After a second a green mist began pouring out of her mouth, as her previously white eyes began to glow with a faint mystical green energy.

Ignoring the mist, which was pooling at his feet, Harry approached cautiously. A voice in his head causing him to stumble slightly.

“Child of two worlds, welcome. It has been some time since we had another like you. I am the spirit of the Oracle of Delphi. You seek the truth of your purpose here … it is a path fraught with equal measures of perils and pleasure. The potential for power or happiness is yours for the taking.”

Listening intently, Harry could feel a continuous chill run down his spine as the tone reminded him of the tone Trewlany had used when she had an actual vision. However, that thought was cut short as the mist suddenly jumped off the floor filling the entire room before slowly beginning to settle back around his ankles.

When it settled, Harry looked up and startled in surprise, almost stepping back into the fountain that had appeared behind him. Looking around Harry recognized that he was now standing in the atrium of the Ministry of Magic.

Looking up in surprise his eyes widened even more at the sight of Dumbledore approaching him, but with every five paces the figure in front of him faded to be replaced with another. Dumbledore became Sirius who in turn became Lupin who faded into Fred Weasley. And on and on it continued, the figure cycling through the appearances of friends and family who had died in some form or another before finally settling on a figure as he stopped right in front of Harry.

However, when he opened his mouth, it wasn’t the voice of Dumbledore that Harry heard but rather the Oracle’s rasping voice that came out.

“Child of the lightning and the wand’s command.

Born to wave fate, in both realms you stand.

To defeat the serpent’s fatal gaze,

In shadows deep, through tangled maze.

Seek the Hallows three, of your ancient lore,

Together bound, forevermore.

Beneath the owl and lightning’s scar.

Conquer the rift, where worlds unbar.

In Salem’s shadow, where witches weep,

A choice unseen, a secret to keep.

Beware the trials of deceit and dread,

In Salem’s web, where secret’s spread.

Yet in New Orleans, where the bayou’s breath,

Dances with spirits, embracing life and death.

A crescent city, where voodoo’s song,

Echoes through the alleys, a melody strong.

Through the French Quarter, where spirits sway,

Your path is lit by the mystic’s display.

A choice awaits in the city’s music,

Where magic and music entwine and trick.

Then out wet you’ll go, where the stars align.

Glamour and magic, throughout combine.

Beneath the lights, where illusions play,

A deeper truth will see the day.

Among the people with words of gold.

A tale unfolds, as the prophesies were told.

Beware the glamour though, the shadows it hides,

For danger lurks where fame resides.

Two worlds collide, destinies entwined,

From Salem’s darkness and New Orlean’s grind,

And under the bright lights of a cities glare,

Tests of courage await out there.

Demigods and wizards, united they’ll stand,

To face the shadows, hand in hand.

Yet beware the traitor’s deceit,

A serpent’s whisper, oh so sweet.

In unity, find strength untold,

Or all shall wither, young and old.”

As the apparition of Dumbledore finished delivering the message, he turned away from Harry, seeming to glide towards the darkened elevator that Harry remembered riding to the Department of Mysteries. After several feet, the figure turned back to Harry. However, rather than being greeted by the warm comforting face and twinkling eyes of his mentor, he was met by the glaring red eyes of Voldemort.

The unexpectedness of this caused him to take a step back and reach for the wand he knew wasn’t there as he stared at Voldemort.

To his surprise when Voldemort opened his mouth, unlike when Dumbledore had opened his mouth, it was not the raspy voice of the Oracle that Harry heard but rather Voldemort’s own voice, which was certainly no more pleasant.

“Yet beware the traitor’s deceit,

A serpent’s whisper, oh so sweet.

In unity, find strength untold,

Or all shall wither, young and old.”

And after repeating the last bit of the prophesy, Voldemort began to face and the mist that had been pooling on the ground once more jumped up and blocked Harry’s vision before beginning to thin out and dissipate, revealing the attic. Eventually Harry was left staring at Voldemort who had been fading at a slower rate. As he watched the figure of Voldemort slowly began to raise his arm, revealing that he had been holding a familiar looking wand made of elder wood.

However, as he opened his mouth to shout out whatever curse or spell that he was planning on using he faded away completely as the rest of the mist disappeared, leaving Harry standing alone in front of the mummy.

After a three second pause Harry threw his hands into the air. “Are you serious?!?” Harry said angrily. “That’s all? Literally the most unhelpful bit of nonsense I’ve ever hear …” he trailed off, restraining the urge to kick the mummy. “I bet you and Trewlany would have a smashing old time and just get on right away. Gahhh!” he yelled out, as he turned and kicked the floor, in an effort to let out frustration and put distance between them before he did something that at least Chiron would be disappointed about, much less any god who thought oracles and prophesies were a good thing.

As he made his way out of the attic and down the stairs, he finally released a breath that he felt he’d been holding since the mist had started pouring out of the Oracle’s mouth, as the prophesy echoed in his mind.

Emerging onto the main floor of the Bog House, Harry was surprised to find Chiron already waiting for him, a concerned look on his face.

“What is it?” Harry asked.

Chiron opened his mouth, but no sound came out. After a couple seconds he closed it and shook his head. “Why don’t you go first and then I’ll go … judging by the fact that you were upstairs for nearly a full hour, I imagine the Oracle did speak to you.” Chiron said gently.

After a brief look of surprise, not having felt that he’d been upstairs that long, he nodded. “Yes, apparently prophesies are just as ridiculous sounding on this world as mine, but the Oracle sure had a lot to say.”

After a brief look of shock crossed his face as Harry announced his feelings towards prophesies, he places a reassuring hand on Harry’s shoulder before motioning for Harry to follow him. They walked through the corridor before entering the study, where Percy and Grover were deep in am excited, whispered conversation.

As they fully entered the room, Percy glanced up, a look of urgency in his eyes as they made eye contact, as if he wanted to tell Harry something. But out of the corner of his eyes, Harry saw Chiron subtly shake his head which caused Percy to look back to Grover.

Feeling the centaur’s gaze on him, Harry turned to face Chiron, noticing the serious but compassionate expression on his face, “Harry, please tell us about what you were told.” He said calmly.

Harry took a deep breath before he began to recite the prophesy he’d just heard, although he paused at the end before deciding to leave out the part about the traitor.

Chiron’s eyebrows had continued to rise steadily as Harry had recited what he had heard. “Most prophecies are a little shorter than that,” he remarked, “but sounds like the Oracle gave you much more to go on than usual. Not sure if its because of what’s in store for you or because of who you are. But whatever the case it sounds like you have quite the journey ahead of you.”

Chiron turned and paced for several seconds at the far end of the room; his brow furrowed in concentration. “Salem and New Orleans. Those are cities are pretty important to the gods but also have ties to the world of magic as well …” he trailed off before looking back to Harry. “We’re going to sit down and decipher the prophesy and then we can help you prepare for your quest.” Chiron then glanced towards Percy a questioning look on his face, before quickly looking back to Harry. “Is there anything else, Harry? Was anything else said? We don’t know what might be important without hearing the entire prophesy and sometimes an innocent thing might be important or something that sounds bad might be the key to understanding the entire thing.” The centaur asked staring at him.

Harry hesitated, recalling the part about the traitor, but decided to keep it to himself as he shook his head. “No, that’s all that was said to me,” he answered, meeting Chiron’s intense gaze.

After a pause, Chiron nodded thoughtfully. “Very well. We have much to discuss. Let’s begin.”

“Hold on a second,” Harry interrupted, turning to Percy, who out of the corner of his eye Harry saw that he was once again looking at him like he wanted to say something.

Glancing back to Chiron, Harry shook his head. “Why do I get the feeling that something happened or is going to happen, and you are hiding it from me?”

Chiron looked guiltily down to the ground before eventually looking up to Harry and shaking his head slowly. “I thought we could talk about this first … but … your friend has woken up. One of the healers came into the Big House shortly after you’d gone up the stairs. I had sent Percy to grab you but by the time he’d run up the stairs, you’d already gotten to the attic and the door had closed behind you. So, we … that is, I had wanted to talk about the prophesy while it was still fresh in your mind, before you got distracted.”

Harry’s eyes flashed with anger as he jumped to his feet. “Hermione … Is … Not … A … Distraction.” He snapped, before running out of the room, heading towards the front door so he could make his way to the infirmary.

As he jumped off the porch, after exiting the building, he felt Chiron’s hand grasp his shoulder as if to stop him, apparently having easily caught up with him, before it was almost immediately withdrawn from shoulder.

“Not now!” Harry shouted back. As he had not even turned around to look back at Chiron, he didn’t see Chiron’s eye’s shoot up in surprise as his arm, that had reached out to Harry, now hung limply at his side and he was opening and closing his mouth without making any sound.

Harry sprinted across the camp, his heart pounding in his chest. He burst into the infirmary and ran full speed past the two healers who stared at him in surprise, still sitting behind the desk off to the side, before he almost flew up the stairs to the second floor.

Coming to a stop at the top of the stairs he scanned the room until he saw her.

Hermione lay on a cot by the window, apparently having been moved, looking pale but conscious. Relief washed over him as he rushed to her side.

“Harry!” Hermione exclaimed, trying to sit up.

“Hermione, you’re okay …” Harry said, as he arrived by her side, his voice breaking with emotion. Reaching down, he took her hand, smiling at the warm buzz of energy he felt from her hand. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, just feeling a bit out of it,” Hemione reassured him, as she looked up from their interlocked hands, a confused look on her face. After several seconds she shook her head and met his eyes. “But I had the strangest dream … or at least apparently it was a dream. I had been talking to one of the healers and she swore that I’ve been here for several days in a coma, so it must be a dream … Harry, it just felt so real.”

Harry nodded slightly, listening intently as he waited for her to continue.

Flashback Hermione’s POV

The first thing Hemione noticed when she started coming to her senses was that the air was heavy with an indescribable sense of foreboding … and it was very dry.

Hermione’s eyes shot open, and she bolted upright, heart pounding in her chest. Panic surged through her when she realized that she was no longer in the Department of Mysteries, nor was she in any room that she recognized either from the Ministry of Magic or Hogwarts. Quickly reaching down she discovered that the familiar presence of her wand was missing, which elevated the panic. Turning around quickly to see if it had just rolled out somewhere she noticed that Harry, himself, was nowhere to be seen.

Frantically scanning her surroundings, she realized that she was in a dimly lit chamber, the walls adorned with strange glowing runes that she couldn’t decipher. The air, which on top of being dry, felt cool and stale, carrying an unsettling scent that hung heavily around her. With trembling hands, she reached into her pockets and felt a wave of despair at the reminder that her wand was missing.

Taking deep breaths to steady herself, she tried to recall how she got there … but all she could remember was going with Harry to the Ministry of Magic, remembering that things had started to go wrong after they had started to throw the Hallows into the veil and then … nothing.

“Focus, Hermione,” she muttered to herself, her mind racing through the possible explanations and strategies to deal with her current situation. Knowing that panic wouldn’t help her, she forced herself to stand up knowing that she needed to gather information, get out of the cave, or tunnel she was in, and find Harry, who hopefully had her wand.

Looking at the two exits to the small cavern she had woken up in, she looked back and forth before picking the one that had slightly less stale air and with cautious determination, she began to explore the mess of caves that she had found herself in. The tunnels twisted and turned, some barely wide enough to squeeze through, while others expanded into areas large enough that the Hogwarts’s Express could have easily driven through and Grawp would have had to stand on his toes to reach the glittering stalactites above.

After what might have been several hours, if not days, of nerve-wracking exploration, Hermione felt her panic begin to threaten to overwhelm her, as even with the constant walking she had found no sign of anything or anyone, nor, to her confusion, did she feel any signs of exhaustion or hunger. Shaking her head in frustration she attempted to retrace her steps, trying to find anything familiar and hopefully make her way back to the small cavern where she had woken up, wondering if she had chosen the wrong way to go.

But almost immediately she realized it was going to be impossible almost impossible to make her way back as everything looked the same, but nothing looked familiar. After the better part of an hour, she stumbled into an open tunnel that had a massive door blocking her pathway. As she walked up to the she noticed that it was ancient and imposing, made of a deep, matte black metal that seemed to absorb the faint, eerie glow of light that the cavern walls seemed to emit. As she looked at the door, she noticed that while the metal itself was rough and textured, like volcanic rocks, it had intricately carved runes etched over almost its entire surface, their lines glowing faintly with a dark, purplish light. Above the door loomed a large bust of a three headed dog, that looked impossibly like Fluffy, each head frozen in a snarl, menacing teeth barred angrily.

As she walked to the door she tried to shake the feeling that their eyes seemed to follow her. Reaching the door, she reached out and with trembling fingers, she pushed the door, which to her surprise, creaked open slowly, revealing a passage beyond that seemed to lead almost straight down. Stepping past the door, the air changed – almost instantly becoming colder and heavier.

Eventually, the passageway levelled out and led into a vast cavern. The ceiling, she noticed absently, soared high above, shrouded in shadows that seemed to dance with a life of their own. Looking down beneath her feet she noticed that the ground was no longer rocks but smooth marble that seemed to shimmer faintly in the dim light.

Walking forward she noticed that a mist covered a river which cut through the cavern, its waters giving off a strange energy. Intrigued and unable to help herself, she approached the edge of the river, curiosity and sudden thirst taking over. Seeing something just below the surface she bent down to examine the water better, unconsciously reaching down towards the surface.

However, just before she was about to touch the water, movement out of the corner of her eyes caused her to look up and freeze.

Two figures stood by the river, staring at her. The man standing tall and imposing, his figure cloaked in shadows, his skin was pale, almost ashen, contrasting with the inky blackness of his fair that fell in unruly waves around his sharp, angular face in a way that reminded her of Harry, especially lately. However, while there may have been some similarities with the face they certainly did not extend to the eyes, as the man’s eyes were a chilling shade of obsidian, which seemed to look right into her soul in a way that didn’t seem human.

Beside him, his partner was an incredible contrast, as, especially in this environment, she stood out. Her skin while pale was milky white and had a faint ethereal glow that seemed to push back the shadows around her. Her hair was a cascade of golden wavers that appeared to be interwoven with flowers. Her eyes, a vibrant green, sparkled with a mixture of warmth and melancholy. Where the man beside her wore a robe of midnight black, trimmed with silver, she wore a flowing gown of emerald, green, that almost looked as if it was made of leaves.

Hermione watched as the man slowly shook his head as he stared at her which caused her to slowly stand, unable to take her eyes off of them. Standing, she watched the man lean forward slightly and even across the entire width of the river his voice resonated like a distant thunder.

“You are not of this place,” he said. “What brings you to the land of the dead?”

Unable to stop herself, she panicked and without a word, she turned and ran in the opposite direction, driven by an instinct to flee the overwhelming aura that the two of them were exuding.

Quickly, she realized that she had headed away from the door to the caves, but unwilling to retrace her steps she forged on as she began to feel more relaxed and slightly foolish for running away. As the panic ebbed away it was replaced with a determination to find a way out.

After what felt like an eternity she stumbled upon another door. This one seemed different – while it seemed inviting, she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was also something sinister about it.

Hesitantly hoping that the door might lead out of the caves or to some place she recognized, Hermione approached the door and placed her hand on its surface. To her surprise it was warm and pleasant to the touch, as if it wanted her to open it. Collecting her strength to push open the door, she froze as she heard a voice echo through the chamber, one much more gentle than the voice of the man that had called out to her over the river, a voice that broke the spell that had seen her about to fully open the door. “Wait! Don’t open that!”

Startled, Hermione took a step back and turned to see a surprisingly rather plain looking woman who would have probably been a couple years younger than her parents, standing nearby.

“Who are you?” Hermione asked, unable to fully hide the disappointment that had bubbled up in her voice due to being interrupted before opening the door.

Whether she chose to ignore it or simply missed the tone, the woman smiled. “My name is unimportant. You must not open that door. We have heard whispers about you and there is concern about … well no need to worry about that. There are forces at play here that you are not yet able to understand.”

Hermione hesitated, torn between her desire to turn around and open the door and her confusion over what she’d just heard. “Persephone? Forces I don’t understand? It’s just a door … right? What if it’s the way out of … wherever this is?”

The lady’s expression softened as she shook her head. “I doubt I’ll have the time or ability to answer all the questions that I feel you have, especially not before I need to get back. Now I know there is a lot going on and this might be overwhelming, but I am positive that this is not the way out and opening it could lead to consequences you can’t undo. You need to get out of here, the last thing you want to do is be caught down here. While he has nothing against you, Hades already has another mortal, and you don’t need to add to his collection. Come with me, there is a place up ahead where you can wait before you wake up.”

Hermione had looked back to the door, feeling it call to her but froze before spinning back to the lady when she had finally processed her words about waking up and Hades. However, when she turned around, she was met with an empty cavern, as the lady had seeming disappeared.

Glancing back and forth, she noticed an owl in the distance hooting happily. After a pause she started following the owl, smiling at how much the owl seemed to remind her of Harry’s owl.

Eventually the owl led her to a small grove and alighted on a large rock. Looking around the small oasis, Hermione nodded before turning back to join the owl. However, she was met with the sight of the woman who had stopped her from opening the door.

Startled, Hermione took a step backwards, “You’re … an animagus?” she asked.

The lady looked at Hermione for several seconds in confusion before she smiled and shook her head slightly. “Nothing so crude, although that was a reasonable guess. I need to leave now. I’ve been here too long. But wait here and you’ll be with your friend soon.”

Hermione’s eyebrows rose. “My friend? You mean Harry? He’s on his way here?” She paused for a second before looking at the woman again. “Just who are you?”

She shook her head, as she began to shimmer and fade, “I imagine you’ll be able to figure that out on your own.”

As she continued to fade, she momentarily shimmered, revealing a tall commanding woman with a regal, fierce, and yet intelligent face.

As Hermione’s eyes once more shot open in surprise the woman completely faded into the shadows. Leaving only echoing words behind. “Don’t leave this grove … and whatever you do, don’t eat the food.”

Unsure of how long she waited, Hermione began to feel the remaining anxiety shift to calm and other than the fact that she couldn’t completely forget about the pull of the door she relaxed and was content with waiting. As the time passed, she started to hear the faint sound of voices growing gradually louder. Straining to hear, she suddenly recognized one of the voices – it was Harry’s.

The sound of Harry’s voce grew clear and Hermione felt a tingling sensation in her hand. The voices slowly became more distinct and she slowly began to pick out individual words, while at the same time the grove around her started to shimmer and lose focus. Despite the strange transition, Hermione felt strangely relaxed, as if this was normal.

The shimmering intensified until the grove faded entirely, and she opened her eyes to find herself in an unfamiliar room that seemed oddly like an infirmary, at least judging by the beds and carts full of things that looked like bandages and salves.

Feeling her dry throat, she coughed and immediately someone was standing over her, a relieved look on their face.

“Welcome back to the land of the living.” The person said with a reassuring smile.

Hermione blinked, disoriented. “Harry? Where is Harry?” she whispered, looking around.

The individual looked over to the far side of the room and motioned before looking back to her. “My friend will get him. I think he’s with Chiron right now.” The girl above Hermione looked over to her night table before looking back to Hermione. “Hold on right here and I’ll fetch you some water before I run you through some tests.”

Current Time – Harry’s POV

Harry looked at Hermione thinking back to the look of anger and regret that Hermione had shown when she had mentioned the woman stopping her from opening and then leading her away from the door, feeling it felt a little uncharacteristic. However, he shook his head and looked back down to Hermione, “You think it was just a dream though?” he asked. “Because it could have been something else.”

Hermione paused for a second before nodding. “Yes, it was just a dream,” she said, but Harry could see the uncertainty in her eyes as she answered. “I mean the healer said I was here the entire time.”

Harry squeezed her hand reassuringly. “We’ll figure this out, Hermione. Together. But … things happened when we threw the Hallows into the Veil and I’m not entirely sure where to start but we definitely aren’t in London anymore …”

Kind Regards,

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Up Next: The Journey’s Begin

Story Note 1 – And Hermione is awake! Looking forward to including her in the story! This also means that since he is seeing the Oracle and Hermione is awake he will be ready to get underway. I sure hope the message from the Oracle wasn’t too confusing for Harry, but luckily he has Hermione to help out.

Story Note 2 – When Chiron tried to slow up Harry … was that an intervention by a god … or the first bit of magic? Looking forward to hearing the feedback!

Story Note 3 – Hermione may come off as a little OOC in this chapter as this Hermione seems to be a little more panicky/reactive than normal. And while part of that is likely explained by waking up in a very different environment without her wand and having lost Harry who she had been with a little while ago … there is also another bigger reason that will come into play soon!

Disclaimer – It has come to my attention recently that I unfortunately do not own any part of the Harry Potter or Percy Jackson Cinematic or Literary Universes or the characters that belong to those entities. One can dream I suppose. Although I did visit the Empire State Building once … but I solemnly swear I did not steal any lightning bolts.