The One with the Serpent Tongue
Summary: Harry Potter defeated Voldemort at the DOM, the price he paid for the permanent protection of his world is exile. He finds himself in the hands of an entirely different prophecy. His task: protect the Godslayer. Crossover with Belgariad.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the Belgariad series. Harry Potter is the creation of the wonderful J. K. Rowling and Belgarion and his crew is the awesome creations of David Eddings.
Rating/Warnings: M, due to war violence, language, loss, and slash
A/N Alright I just want to say before we get into the story that my crossover style is meant to be enjoyed by anyone, therefore I do a lot of seemingly obvious explanations to the people that know the stories. To read my stories you really only need basic understanding of one side of the story the rest will be explained. Not to mention I like twisting cannon around so much it's probably better to have only a very basic knowledge or you could get cranky with me.
The story will not place him immediately at the start of the Belgariad I am going to dip into information acquired from Polgara the Sorceress and Belgarath the Sorcerer to introduce him, and the readers, to this world.
Earth: England: Ministry of Magic: Department of Mysteries.
"Kill me!" A young man screamed as pain beyond anything he ever felt before went through his body.
"Harry no, I won't!" An elderly man with a long stick yelled back to the boy on the ground, the stick in the old man's hand was trained on the boy, it held steady even as the man had tears running openly down his cheeks.
"Kill Me! I have him. Dumbledore do it. If I die so does he!" The one on the ground answered back in a raspy, hollow, voice not quite his own as he battled the other force in his mind.
Cold laughter echoed through the room erupting from the boy, but it was not the boy's laugh. The boy screamed again as the Dark Lord currently possessing his body tore into his nerves, it was pain worse than the Cruciatus ever thought of being. The boy ruthlessly attacked the presence in his mind trying to cage it within him, it hurt so bad tears were in his eyes and he was hoarse from screaming. Still fighting the Dark presence the boy begged to be killed once more. "Do it now!"
"I'm so sorry Harry," The old man whispered before gathering himself to say the curse that rivaled the pain of any he had uttered before, "Avada Kedavra!"
The boy on the ground, Harry Potter, felt his world go dark at the same time he heard the awful shriek of his rival's pain as the bright green curse struck their combined body.
Western Kingdoms: Tolnedra: Eastern Mountain range: Cave of the Gods
"Aldur my son, are you prepared to take on a new apprentice?" UL the father of the Gods inquired.
"Yes father, but why have I not sensed this new one like all the others?" Aldur asked sensibly. Aldur was UL's eldest son.
"He was not ready to be found. His journey has been a long one. I will retrieve him now that I have your answer." UL explained simply.
"Very well Father," Aldur submitted to the older being's will. "When will he be joining his brothers in the Vale?"
"When he is ready I will send him." UL said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "One of your daughters shall guide him at first before joining you because he will have a lot to learn." UL conceded to telling his son that much.
"I have an inkling who you mean; she will be a good choice." Aldur approved even though UL really didn't need the approval.
"I will go retrieve him now then, but give him time to come to you." UL warned.
"Yes Father," Aldur acknowledged the warning.
:No discernable time or place:
The welcoming darkness was warm and comforting in contrast to the pain he had endured. Harry Potter felt his awareness return to him while cocooned in this warm blackness. He was content to float in seemingly perfect solitude for the rest of eternity. He vaguely remembered the battle he had just been in and a shadow of curiosity lingered over the fate of his rival. As indeterminate moments passed he felt those slight attachments to the earth lift from him.
He slowly became aware of a growing presence in the endless vacuum. It was a presence far stronger than he had ever encountered. He dreamily wondered why he would be feeling a presence like that when he was dead.
Luckily for Harry, the fog cloaking his mind was lifting in direct relation to the growing presence. He knew something of great importance was about to happen when he saw a tall figure, well walking wasn't the right word, gliding towards him. This being had the appearance of an aged man, but the presence coming off him in steady waves opposed the elderly looks.
"Harry Potter, I have come to offer you a choice. The universe is far from done with you. The evil you have locked within your mind still exists, and there is a way to destroy it for good, but it comes at a price." The being said in a powerful, yet calm voice.
"What is the price?" Harry asked warily now in complete control of his mind once more.
"Leaving everything and everyone you love behind. At the moment your body is in a kind of stasis that is just for this conversation. The curse cast at you will not kill you, if you chose to return you will be alive in your world once again. The catch is even as you survive so will the monster inside you. Many more lives will be lost if the war on your world continues. If you choose exile you will be sent to a place in need of your aid and the evil will not be able to follow you between worlds. In both worlds, a prophecy is at play, but both prophecies have provisions for either way your choice goes. The choice is yours alone," The being explained carefully.
"I was willing to die for this world; I will not put it through any more war than necessary. I choose exile." Harry answered barely having to think once he heard more deaths were on the way. He would miss his friends and his school, but he wanted them whole and happy. If his life bought the safety of his world then he would pay the price. Even if it did sound a bit like he was leaving one war for another. Plus, he had been in technical exile from the wizarding world whenever he had been returned to his dungeon masters... um I mean the Dursley's tender loving home, please note sarcasm.
"So it shall be." The being intoned formally and Harry felt a funny wave of energy flow through him, and a feeling of motion.
Western Kingdoms: Ulgoland: Prolgu: Poledra's den
His feet hit solid ground a second before his knees hit as well. His body bent over with the return of the pain the stasis had kept away. Through the haze of pain he heard a female voice address the being that had brought him there.
"Lord UL, I see the choice has been made." The woman's voice was soft and matter of fact to the point of bluntness.
"Yes, he has come to us. He needs a new name." UL informed her.
"Galahad," the boy managed to say in a weak voice even from his pained position on the ground.
"Why?" the woman asked briskly, she was curious about the young lad.
"It means pure, the name comes from a legend back on my world." The newly named Galahad said as his strength left him and he collapsed forward into unconsciousness.
"Poledra, take care of him, he has a part to play in this tale. He must be ready to join with my son as soon as possible." UL instructed knowing a little time on the floor wouldn't hurt the boy too much.
"He will be ready," Poledra responded as she looked over her new charge. This was going to be an interesting challenge.
(roughly 20 generations before the events of Belgariad)
Harry felt consciousness return to him once more, but this time there was a residual ache in his muscle to remind him that he really was still alive. Opening his eyes he was surprised to find he could see even though he was without his thick black glasses. He could only assume that it had been a gift from UL. He remembered the events before and the fact his name wasn't Harry anymore. He couldn't even remember what had driven him to pick Galahad but it just seemed to fit. He was never going back to his old world so it was time to put the name Harry Potter to rest.
Looking at the room he was in he found it to be cut from solid stone with one simple doorway leading into a dark labyrinth of tunnels. The room was small, but comfortable and well lit. There was minimal furniture, the simple straw pallet he was laying on, another slightly raised pallet across the room he assumed was for his new mentor, and a small kitchen with a dinning area containing a table and two chairs. The more he looked the more he realized this wasn't a room, this was a den.
The inhabitant of said den was standing in front of the stove stirring a simmering pot of what smelled like porridge. He took the time to actually get a good look at her, and found she was a bit taller than him with thick brown hair not quite as frizzy as Hermione's, and she wore a simple doe brown dress that reached her ankles showing her feet were bare. She was facing away from him so he couldn't tell much more than that without having to move. His attempts to do just that were painful enough to pull a low groan from his lips. The noise drew the woman's attention so he finally got a look at her face and discovered the woman was classically beautiful without a hint of make-up. It was her eyes that drew his attention the most, they were bright amber, like wolves' eyes; he had seen them before in his father's old friend Remus Lupin who happened to be a werewolf.
"Finally, One was beginning to think you wouldn't wake up despite UL's protection." She told him in the same just-next-to-blunt voice he had heard before so apparently that was the norm. He also noticed the use of the term One instead of I.
"Who are you?" He asked as he carefully pulled himself into a sitting position.
"One just is; others call One Poledra." The woman responded oddly and Galahad found himself believing he was in the presence of a wolf more and more. "One's form means little." Poledra said as if she had read his mind, and to prove her point, her body shifted into the form of a snowy owl and back again.
Galahad felt surprise, not necessary at the shifted form as he had seen Animagus wizards before, it was because when her body shifted he heard a noise vaguely resembling distant thunder; he felt the noise more than heard it. "What was that noise?" He asked curiously.
"The sound of One's Will. One rarely makes such sounds but One felt it necessary." Poledra explained and he found himself slowly getting used to the odd phrasing. It was slightly easier to understand than Hagrid's rough accent.
"Why was it necessary?" Harry asked as he felt his curiosity come out to play.
"You have to know." She explained, "Lord UL told one to teach and you must learn."
"I already know some magic." Galahad started, but Poledra stopped him.
"Lord UL warned One about that, this magic you have is not what you will have to learn here. Your Will is what you must use and the Word to unleash it." Poledra corrected his thinking. "One remembers the term 'sorcery' used by One's mate."
The mate comment definitely confirmed Galahad's suspicions, but he had to ask. "Who is your mate?"
"One's mate is called Belgarath, when you finish your learning with One you will be sent to join One's mate and his brothers in our Master's Vale." Poledra said shortly.
"Can you tell me more about them? Who is your master?" Harry asked as Poledra brought him a bowl of the porridge she had been preparing as they talked.
"My Master is Aldur the God of no people but he will take the very rare apprentice and disciples, he is the son of UL, and a brother to the other six gods that made the world. UL and the Universe are the ones that produced the Gods. The rest of them are Belar, bear God of the Alorns; Chaldan, the bull god of the Arends; Issa, the snake god of the Nyissans; Nedra, the lion God of the Tolnedrans; Mara, the weeping God, his people are no more, but they were once the Marags; and lastly Torak, the dragon God of the Angaraks.
"One's master has only a small number of Disciples; One's mate Belgarath was the first; One's daughter Polgara is at his side also; then Beldin, he is deformed in body but his mind is incredible; Beltira and Belkira, were twin Alorn shepherds before they felt master's call; they are the only ones left at master's side. Belmakor and Belsambar are no more by their own hands, and Zedar the apostate has forsaken my master and taken up with Master's brother Torak.
"Torak was a greedy power hungry god that was maimed one of master's findings, an Orb of great power. He used it to harm the earth he and his brothers created, and in return, the Orb exacted the price of this deed in the form of burning his left hand and eye where the fire burns eternally. One's mate and his brothers are fighting to end the war Torak has caused, but they cannot fight the war directly. The Gods have left the world, only to return for extremely brief periods. Torak is the only god still left on this world but a warrior guided by one's mate and daughter recently locked him into sleep.
"The Gods have issued a series of prophecies that will finish off this war. Master's disciples have been following these prophecies since they were first uttered in order to guide the war in favor of the Light." Poledra explained as Galahad ate his food.
"How many sides are there in this war? Who is fighting for what side? Why did they split apart?" He questioned after he had some time to assimilate the information, despite what certain Potion's Professors might say about him, he wasn't stupid; he had a quick mind but he simply wasn't the studying kind.
"Right questions wrong order." Poledra corrected. "The why in this situation is more important than the how and the who. The answer to the why the sides split apart is because of an accident that occurred long ago, the universe came into existence with a purpose, and an order in which to achieve that purpose, but one small thing changed that. A star died in the wrong time and wrong place, in the grand scheme of things a single star usually doesn't mean much, but because this occurred at just the wrong time something that should have happened didn't and something that shouldn't have happened did. This caused two separate yet equally valid possibilities for the future; these two possibilities have enough power that they each have awareness, the awarenesses are what created the sides in this war. As for how many sides there are two, as for who are on what side, each has an infinite amount of support from more than just this world. Though on this world it is split between the Child of Light, and the majority of the Western races; and the Child of Dark, and the eastern races; very rarely does anyone stand neutral." She answered succinctly.
"What races are there?" Galahad asked wanting to know as much as possible about his new world.
"There are the Tolnedrans, Karands, Morindim, Arends both Mimbrates and Asturians, Nyissans, Ulgos, Sendars, the Alorns were split into four kingdoms long ago creating Drasnians, Algars, Chereks, and Rivans, and lastly the Angaraks are also split they have Thulls, Murgos, Malloreans, Nadraks, and the priesthood called Grolims which are nearly indistinguishable from Murgos. There are scattered groups called the Godless ones but they blend in with the surrounding race." Poledra explained patiently. All the names were starting to give Galahad a headache.
"One believes that is enough history for today. If One is correct you will be seeing many of them on your journey, just knowing they exist won't help you unless you go and meet them." She took pity on him seeing the tell tale signs of information overload taking over her young charge.
"UL has provided you with clothing, one suggests getting up and changing we need to begin working on your Will." She stated patiently with a slight nod to the end of his palate where a small pile of clothing, made out of what appeared to be leather and cotton, sat folded in a neat stack. "He suggested you will need to become accustomed to the different mode of dress." She added for good measure.
Galahad just sighed, and slowly getting up from his palate to avoid straining his tender muscles, he complied with her gently worded command. He found the clothes he was given strange; it was a tunic made of durable cotton, and soft leather leggings that fit tightly to his skin, he assumed that the leggings would normally be made of some sort of cloth as well but UL had made concessions for his recent displacement from another world and code of dress. It would be strange for a while, but he had already learned to dress differently when he went from muggle clothing to wizarding robes. Off the edge of the palate was a pair of leather half boots, he was kind of surprised to see footwear due to her bare feet, but now he assumed hers were bare because she preferred it that way not because that was how people usually dressed.
"You look presentable," Poledra commented dryly once he had finished changing.
"Now for your first lesson in controlling your Will you must learn the rules. For the most part there is only one rule that absolutely can not be broken if you value your life at all. The universe came into beings to create things; she will not permit anyone to unmake something. Before you ask, no, killing is not the same as unmaking; if you kill something it is still there, just not in the same form, to unmake something is to remove it entirely. The next is to not attempt the impossible; you can expend so much energy you can't keep your own heart beating, but since every mind works differently and your determination greatly affects your Will, that which is impossible also varies. The last rule is more of a guideline than a rule and that is; just because you can do something doesn't mean you should do something. There will be times when you will be tempted to use your Will when you shouldn't and you need to recognize those moments and learn how to work around them." She drilled into him seriously and he listened knowing his life depended on her words.
Galahad waited until he had the rules fully understood before asking his next question, he did not want to rush his learning and miss something important. "I understand the rules and they make a lot of sense, but how do I actually use my Will?"
"You must draw the power into yourself, and you must want to do something with all your being the first couple of times, after that it gets simpler." She told him as if it answered every question he had.
"How do I draw the power in?" He asked feeling confused like he had in Occlumency training.
"First you have to know the power is there. Master much preferred the first act of Will to be spontaneous where UL believes that if the first time is too simple the novice may not feel obligated to learn control and an untrained sorcerer is dangerous. One believes UL has the right idea with no offense meant to one's master. You have already had a taste of your Will using that 'magic' UL spoke of, he mentioned your magic needs a focus object to draw it out, with Will you become the focus object. Remember the feeling you felt at the exact moment of casting your magic, which is the power you must pull into yourself now. Gather it from your surroundings; every thing, living or not, produces some of this power, you just need to borrow it. The power will be returned to where you got it from once you release your Will." Poledra explained the concept more in depth, and Galahad finally felt like he might have a chance.
"What should I do?" He asked wanting to practice.
"One suggests starting small; it is exhausting to do even the smallest task at first." She answered producing an unlit candle from thin air accompanied by the strange ringing noise. "Cause the wick to flame without harming anything else." She ordered setting the first task.
Galahad took the candle from her hand and held it stably in his own. He thought about what she had told him on remembering how casting a spell felt, and he did register that amazing rush when his wand pulled the power out of him. He also remembered the slightly different feeling of when his wand was lain his hands for the first time. He concentrated on both memories while attempting to pull in his Will.
It took awhile, and it was not easy, but he did see the faint traces of power Poledra had told him about; on the stonewalls, the furniture, and the largest concentration of power was obviously Poledra herself but something warned Galahad that it might not be the best of ideas to try and pull power from her.
His first few attempts at drawing the power into himself was difficult and yielded little results, but his ingrained stubbornness kept him on task. He grasped at the power until he could feel it growing inside of himself. Remembering what she said about words, he wondered what kind of word would work, something instinctual told him it didn't matter. He was beginning to wonder where all these gut instincts seemed to come from. It would be a kind of poetic irony if he made it this far only to find out he was insane; locked in some asylum rocking back in forth in a white coat, but again that little voice warned him he wasn't insane, and he should try to release his Will already.
He decided even if he was insane there was no harm in following along with his delusions, at least they were entertaining delusions, if that is what they were.
Concentration back on the old-fashioned tallow candle and thick rope like wick; he released the built up Will with one word.
Seeing it work gave him a sense of pride, but swiftly following that pride was a feeling of complete and utter exhaustion. The fatigue was not quite as bad as after the fight with Voldemort, but close.
He sunk to the ground before his legs decided to give out and he heard Poledra's voice echo oddly through his tiredness, "Good work for a first try, it will get easier with more practice." Galahad couldn't help but feel some pride; he had managed to complete his first task on the same day as it had been given. This whole Will and the Word thing could end up working out.