The Wizard of Fury Chapter 55 (Start of Interlude) (Patreon)

Deep below the castle of Dragonstone lay endless tunnels that delved deep into the earth below the Dragonmont, the enormous volcano that dominated the island. These tunnels were avoided for good reason by most. The acrid scent alone was enough to put most people off, but the winding, twisting tunnels made it near impossible for anyone to easily retrace their steps back to the surface. There were plenty of tales among the farmers and fishermen of the isle who spoke of lost friends and even sons who’d delved deep into the unknown abyss, never to be seen again.

Harry had never held such fears. These tunnels felt familiar to him now, the way Margaery’s heartbeat was. He could sense the pulsing heat beneath the walls, intuitively knowing which way was towards the surface and which was towards the far depths. Of course, sometimes the tunnels upwards could end up twisting around and leading him even deeper than he had been originally, but it was always a matter of time before he found his way back again.

It was that unusual connection he felt to these tunnels that brought him here in the first place. It was strange; he’d never felt anything like this before when he’d lived on Dragonstone.

“So, what are we practising today?” Arianne asked cheerfully.

The olive-skinned woman took well to the heat down in the tunnels. She said that it reminded her of the warm summer days in Dorne. The only downside was that there were no pools of fresh water to jump into.

“Control,” Harry told her. “You’re still too reckless with your movements.”

Arianne huffed in frustration. “Can’t we do something more fun? Let me use your wand for a bit. You promised that you’d show me how to summon things.”

“After we practise your movements,” Harry told her. “You’re still struggling with how much water you move around at once.”

“Fine,” Arianne replied, sounding anything but.

In the weeks that he’d truly come to know Arianne, he’d learnt just how stubborn she could be. Whenever she saw something that she wanted, she did everything in her power to achieve it. And what she wanted most of all was to learn magic.

Actually, what she wanted most was his affections, but he pretended not to notice that part.

The tunnels occasionally opened up into enormous chambers. Some were even bigger than the Great Hall at Hogwarts. This one that they were in now was one of the most easily accessible ones. After taking the turnpike stairs down from the dungeons, there was a rather tricky sequence of branching tunnels to follow down to reach this place. It was a cavernous chamber, stretching at least a hundred feet tall and over three times as wide. There was a narrow gorge in the middle of the chamber where seawater swept in and created a small channel. Harry had already fashioned several boulders together with magic to form a makeshift bridge to the far side where three passages led deeper into the earth.

All around the chamber were torches and floating bluebell flames, providing plenty of light to see everything around them. Even down in the gorge, Harry had placed some flames so that you could see the water.

Harry gestured to the gorge, and with a sigh, Arianne trudged over to it. She stared down at the dark waters below, a frown of concentration on her face.

“It won’t come to you if you just stare at it,” Harry reminded her cheekily.

Her head snapped around so sharply that he feared it might break off. Her glares were already legendary around the castle, but they’d never bothered Harry.

“Quit distracting me.”

“There’s always going to be distractions. You need to be able to do this faster.”

Arianne turned away, blocking out the sound of his voice. Good, Harry thought to himself. Annoying her was a surefire way of making her so indignant that she’d do exactly what he wanted. It was a trick he’d learnt from Margaery after she helpfully pointed it out to him.

Harry watched from a distance as a geyser of water shot up from the depths. Instantly, Arianne weaved her hands in front of her, using the motion as a rote way of ensuring the same results.

From the geyser came a thick glob of water a bit bigger than Arianne’s head. She still struggled at keeping her magic still, so she kept the water swirling around the air above her, shaping it into a long stream.

“What now?” She asked pridefully, as though she’d beaten him at some game.

“I want you to split the water,” Harry told her. “Keep only one third under control. Do what you want with the rest.”

He knew what was coming before it happened. A wicked glint took hold in Arianne’s eyes, and as she swirled the water around again, it suddenly propelled straight towards Harry.

His white wand was in his hand in an instant. He cast his shield charm around him and watched as water sprayed all around him when it struck the invisible barrier.

Arianne was disappointed to see him completely dry when the water all fell to the ground. She was still swirling a much smaller ball of water around her head. Harry figured that she had gotten rid of more of it than he’d asked, but that would be a problem for another day.

With another flick of his wand and a powerful thought behind it, Harry rose three stone rectangles from the floor.

This wasn’t a spell that he had learnt back at Hogwarts. It honestly frustrated him to no end as to how little he actually knew about magic, but he only had himself to blame for not taking advantage of the resources he had back at Hogwarts. Still, his memories of his time back there had proved to be a useful source of information.

For instance, he recalled one long day when he and Ron had been stuck in the library with Hermione. Despite her insistence on them continuing their reading, Harry and Ron were both utterly exhausted. She’d gone on about needing to work harder, and then, in a fit of inspiration, decided that the only way to inspire them to continue to work was to tell them awesome war stories. In the war against Grindelwald’s forces, Dumbledore had fought for a short period of time. Apparently, he’d once conjured a dome of earth over himself and six others, keeping them safe from a bombardment of spells that came from Grindelwald’s forces.

Hermione had never given him an incantation or wand movements, but Harry still knew that the magic itself was possible. From his very first lessons at Hogwarts, he’d learnt that will was more important than anything. You had to have belief in your ability to create magic in order for it to happen.

So, in just his second week here, he’d managed to raise slabs of stones from the dirt. It wasn’t quite the same as what Dumbledore had done, but it was a step in the right direction.

The three slabs stood roughly four feet apart from each other in a line standing side by side. Easy enough to start.

“I want you to weave the water between the slabs,” Harry told Arianne.

“Easy,” she replied, throwing a single hand forth. The ball of water shot out quick as an arrow, so quick that Arianne had to yank her hand back to stop it from flying right into the far cavern wall.

“Maintain your focus,” Harry said. “Don’t just imagine the water shooting forward. Picture where it’s going to end up, where it turns, how it’ll flow through the air as you move it.”

“I’m trying,” Arianne said through gritted teeth.

To her credit, she was. He could see her trying to wrestle a finer control over the water. Slowly, the water weaved between the slabs. Then it returned, moving a bit faster. Then it went a bit too fast and crashed into the final one.

As the water splattered to the ground, Arianne stomped her foot in frustration and turned back to the gorge to pick up more water.

Truthfully, Harry couldn’t have been more pleased with the progress that she’d made. Ever since he arrived in this world, he’d truly come to understand just how important wands were in making magic work.

Wandless magic required far more intent, focus, and willpower than wand magic did. Magic could be just as powerful when done wandlessly, and at times even more so due to the sheer primal nature of it, but it couldn’t replicate the sheer precision that came from a wand. It was why he wanted to find appropriate woods and cores for Arianne and Margaery as soon as possible.

Arianne continued her motions, practising as he’d ordered. So, Harry in turn focused on his own practice.

With a wand available to him, Harry knew that he may one day need to fight with it in hand. Either he’d be giving up the protection of a shield of the strength of wielding a sword in two hands. His preference was for a sword and wand given that he could conjure up shields with his wand at a moment’s notice. He spent time each day practising with both his sword and wand in his non-dominant hand so that he could never be caught off guard, but for today, he focused on using his wand in his right hand.

He raised an additional stone slab far away from the others and set his aim towards it. With a sharp swish, he began his deadly dance.

Stun, disarm, blast, shield, shield again, banish, fire in a ring around him, shield against any incoming threats, shield against the fire and leap straight through to transfigure a boulder into a mountain lion.

The creature came out slightly twisted and malformed. Its back legs had their knees facing the opposite direction while its mouth was filled with teeth as soft as pillows and a tongue that resembled a sheet of parchment more than an organ.

Frustrated, Harry vanished the creature from existence and started again.

Stun, stun, shield, banish, disarm, shield, blast, shield disarm, fire ring, transfigure a boulder into a crow.

This time, the crow formed normally. Harry directed it to attack the invisible foes he was facing, but the second his focus shifted onto what spell he was performing next, the crow started flying around randomly, uncertain of its next move.

“Maybe it needs a real target,” Harry muttered to himself. Invisible ones wouldn’t do.

As he turned back to assume his starting position, he saw Arianne staring at him in awe. The water she’d been carrying was now rejuvenating the dirt beneath her feet, but she didn’t seem to mind. Her eyes were alight with desire.

“Get back to your practice,” Harry barked at her.

“Not until you let me use your wand,” she argued.

Harry was starting to grow frustrated. It wasn’t just Arianne’s fault; his failure to perform magic to his exacting standards was getting to him. Most nights, he awoke two or three times after seeing a bone-chilling face in his dreams.

Somehow, someway, Voldemort was interfering with his life again.

It wasn’t merely dreams that he was experiencing… it was something more. Voldemort felt real, tangible, like Harry could reach out and grab him by the scruff of his robes. Of course, even in those rare dreams where he tried, he never managed to grab hold of him.

Harry had died years ago, but he didn’t intend to do so again for many years to come.

Voldemort would not stop him.

So, Harry trained. It was the fuel he needed to try his utmost, to uncover new developments in magic and find ways of replicating what he’d seen done in his past life. But most of all, he wanted to be prepared to fend off Voldemort’s magic when it came for him.

And Harry knew that he would face it again one day.

By the time Margaery found her way down to the chamber, Harry was locked in a deadly dance. His wand was perfect. It sang with his every movement, practically begging him to channel his magic through it again and again. It was like a reservoir that could never be filled, yet Harry tried his best to do so.

He worked silently, long having understood how to cast wandlessly. Magic followed his will, and so words were not needed. He was digging a deep gouge into the wall before him when he felt his wife’s comforting presence.

He came to a sharp halt and sucked in a deep breath. Arianne had stopped her practice long ago, instead choosing to watch him with eager eyes, intent on learning whatever she could from his actions.

“You’re covered in sweat,” Margaery said with a sweet smile as she procured a dry towel for him to clean himself with.

He accepted it eagerly and wiped his face. While exerting so much magic in such a short period of time was truly exhausting, the warm environment only exacerbated matters.

“How was your meeting with the shipwrights?” He asked.

“Productive enough. We’re starting with a new dock to accommodate the ships that King Stannis has asked be built. Lord Monford Velaryon has assured that the requisite materials will be delivered to Dragonstone within the fortnite. Until then, they’ll be preparing the site for construction.”

“Good. It’ll be good for us to see it expanded. Lord Velaryon is eager to send ships down to the Stepstones, so he will not delay us.”

“There is one other matter I wished to bring to your attention. It has to do with Lady Melisandre.”

Out of all the headaches that came with overseeing the castle, managing her was the worst. When she was not staring into flames, she was unnerving most of the castle. Her shrewd words held truths that she ought not know, and she used them to manipulate those around her. Many called her a witch, and just as many called for her to be removed from the castle.

It made for an inauspicious start to introducing magic back into the world.

“I’ll deal with her,” Harry sighed, resigned to the task.

“Actually, she has committed no offences that I am aware of,” Margaery told him. “She’s requested to speak to us tonight after supper.”

“Us?”

“All three of us.”

Harry glanced back at Arianne, who was doing her best to pretend like she wasn’t merely eavesdropping on their conversation.

“She’s asked to meet us in Aegon’s Gardens. She refused to explain why, merely stating that it was to do with something important.”

“Everything is important with her,” Harry huffed. He grew more and more weary of her by the day. If it wasn’t for the insights she had and the promise that she would somehow aid them in this prophesied war…

Harry closed his eyes and saw Voldemort staring back at him. He had something to do with this; Harry simply knew it.

“Arianne, come here,” Harry waved her over before turning back to Margaery. “This will be good practice for you too.”

“I’m needed back up at the castle shortly—”

“This will only take a few moments.”

Arianne stopped next to Margaery with an eager look. “Is it finally time I get to use your wand?”

“Margaery will need to go first as she has other matters to attend to,” Harry told her. He ignored Arianne’s huff as he tossed the towel he’d used into the air. “Depulso!”

The towel was blasted across the cavern over the gorge. It fell near one of the burning torches Harry had set up when he’d brought Arianne down here to practice. Handing over his wand to Margaery, he stepped aside and gestured at the towel.

“You remember the incantation for summoning, right?” He asked.

“It’s Accio,” Margaery answered.

“Just so. I would like you to try to summon the towel back to us,” Harry told her. “Just remember to focus on what you want to happen in your mind. If you believe it can be done, it will.”

Margaery nodded in understanding and gripped Harry’s wand as he’d shown her. She stretched out her arm, pointing the tip towards the towel. Before she moved, Harry stepped forward and gingerly adjusted her grip so that it was a bit less tense before he stepped aside.

For several seconds, Margaery merely stared at the towel. She always took her time with the first attempt, ensuring that she visualised the entire scenario in her mind first. Arianne was getting antsy waiting, but Harry didn’t rush Margaery.

When she was finally ready, she started to wave his wand in an arch. “Accio towel.”

The towel jumped forward, dragging itself along the ground for a few feet before stopping.

“Good,” Harry said encouragingly. She’d gotten to this stage the last time they’d practiced, so it was excellent to see that she hadn’t regressed.

But Margaery didn’t think it was good. “Why isn’t it working?” She frowned. “I’m visualising it all in my head. I can see the towel come flying right towards me, and when it’s close enough, I snatch it out of the air.”

“It might just be a matter of practice,” Harry reassured her. “You’ve only been using my wand a little bit since we’ve gotten here. This is a bit more of an advanced spell than the others I’ve taught you. Try again.”

“Accio towel,” Margaery said immediately, repeating the wand motion. The spell didn’t even work this time.

Harry said nothing then. He knew that she’d acted out of frustration rather than making a genuine attempt. He quickly learnt that he had to walk a fine line when teaching Margaery magic; he didn’t want to come across as condescending or superior to her—that was never a good recipe for a healthy marriage.

Margaery breathed in deeply and refocused her mind. “Accio towel.”

The towel shot towards them faster this time. It lifted up off of the ground as it flew through the air, but it didn’t have enough momentum to make it very far. Wandlessly, Harry made a swish-and-flick motion with his hand and caught the towel with the Levitation Charm before it could fall into the gorge below. He levitated it back over to around where he’d put it initially.

“You’re very close,” Harry smiled at her. “A bit more practice and you’ll get it.”

It wasn’t easy for Margaery to slip away to practise with him all the time. During the day, they were both busy with countless tasks that came with managing a castle and overseeing the entire island, but Margaery carried the lion’s share of the work. They had more time to practice in the evenings, but by that point they were often tired, and so were less productive.

Arianne, on the other hand, had nothing but time to practice.

“Another day,” Margaery grimaced before handing over the wand to Arianne.

Finally, Arianne lit up with a smile that made the whole room shine. She practically bounced around them to find the right angle and, without wasting a second, cast her spell.

“Accio towel!”

The response was immediate as the towel bent to her will. It came soaring through the air so fast that Arianne nearly didn’t react in time. But then her free hand came up and she snatched the towel out of the air.

Hungrily, she turned to Harry. “Teach me the other one you just used. Depulso, right?”

“That’s right,” Harry chuckled. Never was she more eager than when she was performing magic. “The wand movement is the opposite of Accio. You make an upside down arch and—”

Before he could finish his sentence, Arianne tossed the towel into the air as Harry had done before and shouted: “Depulso!”

The three of them watched as the towel flew all the way to the far wall. Arianne was practically giddy with excitement as she immediately summoned the towel back to herself, but Harry stopped paying attention the second he saw the pained smile on his wife’s face.

He quickly wrapped an arm around her waist and held her close as he kissed the top of her head. “You’ll get it soon. We’ll practice again tonight if you want.”

“That would be nice,” she said honestly. “The two of you just make this look so easy.”

“Don’t worry. Before long, you’ll be just as talented.”

Harry let Arianne exhaust herself by casting spell after spell. So far, his teachings had been on simpler things such as levitation and moving objects around. He’d also taught Arianne how to conjure a jet of water or flames, how to repair simple tears in fabric, and how to cut things. Margaery had been there for all of those lessons, but she could only cast half of what Arianne could.

He really didn’t want his wife to feel like she was struggling. Maybe he could teach her something that she knew she’d enjoy.

The Herbivicus Charm! She adored Aegon’s Garden here at Dragonstone and always spoke about how much she missed the beautiful plants back at Highgarden. Perhaps teaching her how to make plants grow more quickly would lighten her mood.

With a plan in place, Harry retrieved his wand back from Arianne and guided her and Margaery back up to the castle.

Being back in the place Harry grew up in filled him with a tremendous amount of nostalgia. Even though he’d also grown up in England, his memories of the first years of his life here were no less real than the ones from his other world. He smiled at those he passed and occasionally stopped for a quick word with familiar faces.

Eventually, Margaery split off to go finish with her duties while Arianne went off in search of Oberyn to tell him all of what she’d accomplished today.

When the time for supper came, the Great Hall was packed with hundreds. One had to enter through a set of doors carved inside of a stone dragon’s mouth, right below its sharp teeth. The tables were filled with knights, guardsmen, visiting traders, and several servants who were not currently working. The head table atop a raised platform was where Harry sat with his wife. Arianne, Oberyn, and Jon Snow were there too, as well as any guests deemed important enough to join them. There was an empty seat at the end where Lady Melisandre usually ate.

They had their fill with thick seafood stew, pease pudding, crusty brown bread with rich butter, capon pies, and apple and berry tarts. There were even grape pies thanks to a recent shipment of fruits from the Reach. Lord and Lady Tyrell ensured that Margaery had many of the comforts from home, and they were keen to share their rich spoils with all those at Dragonstone. It was a clear showing of how pleased they were that their daughter would become queen one day.

While the singers were still singing and mead was still being served while the last of the sweets were being eaten, Harry, Margaery, and Arianne exited out of the back of the Great Hall and made their way around the back of the stone dragon’s tail to find Aegon’s Garden.

Tall dark pine trees filled the garden, which was ringed by thorny hedges. Wild roses grew everywhere except for the well-trodden paths through the gardens, and there were small patches of sea holly and gorse. From here, one could overlook the vast waters around the island.

Lady Melisandre stood right near a cliff’s edge draped in her long scarlet robes, staring off at the far east.

“Can you see it yet? It’s there,” Melisandre commented cryptically.

“What’s there?” Arianne asked, squinting her eyes.

“A sign,” Melisandre answered.

Harry and Margaery looked between each other, none the wiser to what the odd woman was hinting at. Though, that was nothing new.

“The barrier is growing thin,” Melisandre continued. “Would you look upon it with me? None will disturb us. I’ve seen to it.”

Harry knew what she was asking. It was what she so often asked and yet he so often turned down. But tonight she seemed different. Her aloofness, like she wasn’t really here, reminded him of the day he’d first met her.

“Are you certain that none will see us?” Margaery asked. “No one upon the walls? Or a passing servant?”

“No one,” Melisandre assured her.

Drawing his wand, Harry conjured fiery-red flames into the air between the four of them and held it there. Melisandre leaned in close to the flames, closer than anyone should, and stared deeply into them. Her eyes reflected the dancing flames.

“Look into the fire. Can you see? Can you see?”

Harry looked into the flames but saw nothing.

Margaery looked into the flames and saw nothing.

Arianne looked into the flames and…

She wasn’t looking away.

Usually, Arianne was the first to turn away from the fire, but her eyes were fixed on it tonight. She was seeing something. Something that wasn’t truly there.

Then, she closed her eyes and pulled away with a sharp breath. “Is it truly coming?” She asked Melisandre.

“Yes,” the red woman smiled.

Harry extinguished the flames. “Would either of you care to fill me in on exactly what it is that we’re supposed to be waiting for?”

“Dragonfire,” Arianne answered.

“I promised you that the sky would cry red,” Melisandre told Harry.

“You said that it would cry red the day we reached Dragonstone,” Harry pointed out. “There was nothing of the sort that night or any other night.”

At that, Melisandre seemed frustrated. “The sky did cry red, only not our sky. The veil between worlds is thin once more, and the sign will arrive. Magic is returning to the land.”

Harry shook his head, confused. “Magic already exists in this land. I’ve been able to do it for years, and Arianne and Margaery are both capable of it as well. There are stories and rumours from distant lands of magic as well.”

“That is only due to your influence,” Melisandre argued. “Your magic is unique. It is not of this world; it is from a power far greater than all of this. This world’s magic has slumbered for generations, but it returns tonight. Your true potential will be awakened. Look, here it comes.”

She turned away then, staring back off across the waters. There was nothing there other than the dark night sky and the stars twinkling above. Minutes passed in silence as the salty, cold air brushed across them.

Just as Harry was getting tired of this farce, a glowing comet appeared over the horizon. It burned a deep red with a thin red trail behind it, looking like a teardrop in the sky.

“The sign as promised,” Melisandre announced, unable to tear her eyes away from the distant sight.

“What is it supposed to—”

A deep thrum came from the earth beneath his feet. As one, the four of them turned towards the Dragonmont, the volcano that oversaw everything on the island. A thick plume of dark smoke and ash rose from it as a red glow mirroring the comet began to mingle in.

A loud roar sounded as orange-red lava exploded from the top of the Dragonmont, scattering in every direction. Then, the lava crashed back down onto the surface of the volcano, slowly dripping down the sides of it.

“Dragonfire,” Arianne repeated her earlier word in amazement.

“You have awoken the world. A dragon awoke from stone,” Melisandre said.

“It’s just a volcano,” Harry argued. A beautiful one, he’d admit, but not quite the same thing.

Melisandre continued as if not hearing him. “You are Azor Ahai reborn. You will see.”