A breathtaking Godess
It was a rough November night for the littlest resident of Privet drive, Not only was he forced to fix the roof, but Dudley had stolen the ladder. And not only had Dudley stolen the ladder, Dudley had somehow managed to trip over his shoelaces, crashed into i tand broken the ladder. And even the fact that the ladder was broken wasn’t the worst part of the day. That was the fact that Dudley convinced Vernon that “the freak” broke it. Vernon had promptly punished Harry by forcing him to spend the night on the roof while a storm came in. It was the storm that’d caused Harry to make up his mind. After climbing down the drainpipe he grabbed the doormat to use as a shield against the rain, and with a final glance towards Privet drive he walked away.
Unknown to Harry, the wards around privet drive that had hidden him from the world of magic, had also hidden the fragment of Tom’s soul from those who bore a grudge against the heir of Slytherin. Unfortunately Tom had angered many in his quest for power and immortality, and not all of them were mortal.
This is why a god came unto the world within the mountains of the Caucasus. Bearing equine hooves and a bow upon his back, the figure looked across the horizon. Towards the school his priestess founded, a frown on his face turning into an expression of resolve as his foe's fragments came into sight.
Serqet would not have maniphested herself into the world under normal circumstance, she wasn’t the type of deity that would normally leave the Domain of Immortality. She wasn’t a warrior god looking for a worthy battle, nor was she a hunter God looking for prey. She had no need for mortal lovers, no interest in the entertainment of the mortal realm.
Her nature was that of a guard and protector, the warden who held the prisoner as well as the silent predator waiting to strike. Patience was her nature, and no mortal entertainment would distract her from her sacred duty.
At least not until some mortal had tampered with her priests tome, She didn’t know who had dared corrupt her seal but she’d come into the world to find them, only to find the spells of an unknown god conceal him. So she waited, and had done so for decades now.
She’d first maniphested herself in the Scottish highlands. Hoping to find the one who defiled her seal, to purge his taint so she may repair the seal before it breaks. Even now that snake was starting to slip it’s binds, still sealed within the castle walls, it had escaped its slumber and would surely break free of the walls themselves one day. So if magic failed to show her the identity of the defiler, then a more patient path was needed. She'd heard the local mages, who claimed to have found the one to release the serpent.
So she’d investigated the mortal, the one with giant’s blood running through his veins. Over a drink spiked with a truth-inducing venom she had interrogated him, only to find this a dead end. The oaf wasn’t the one to breach her seal. But he’d told her of the one who had, a youth called Tom. Yet even so she hadn’t been able to find him, concealed as he is was by the mist of gods.
And after half a century even her godly patience was getting stretched, she knew not how long she had before the seal would break, unleashing chaos on the mortal masses. So when her prey left his protected shelter she rushed into action. Yet surely a foe as cautious as this Tom, one who’d evaded her for ages would come prepared as well, Surely he knew who's ire he had earned, her blessings and domains. How could he not? Her name was written in the tomb of her fallen priest. And if his soul was truly connected to her seal as she suspected, the prisoner would’ve told him.
But she was no fool, this Tom might come prepared for her venomous sting, He'd probably have some way to protect himself from her Poison. But such defenses would fail, she herself could grant those blessing. And by her nature she could just as easily take them away. She would prepare her poison. She'd set her trap. She'd lure in her prey and wait.
It had been two days since Harry ran away from Privet Drive, two days since Harry climbed from the roof and ran to his freedom. And they were two of the best days in his short little life. Two whole days without beatings and chores. Two days without Harry hunting and spiders beneath the stairs. Two days of blessed freedom.
But after two days of running around and having fun. But Harry was a growing boy, and had used a lot of energy running around the past few days. To put it quite simply, Harry was hungry.
So when a woman approached, and asked him if he was, he’d been honest. So she’d invited him into this cosy inn, ordered him a big stack of pancakes and some nice cup of chocolate milk. So here he sat, talking with a stranger. She wore linen clothes. Her skin had a golden complexion, like the sands of the desert. And her eyes where a light blue, the colour of a running river.
The Inn was cozy and warm, decorated with laquered wooden chairs and thick heavy curtains around the windows. A burning fireplace in the centre of the wall warmed the room. And the pancakes where amazing, so tasty in fact that he’d entirely forgotten to drink until the stack had entirely disappeared from his plate. And with nothing left to eat Harry decided to flush it down with a drink.
That was when Harry felt his throat tighten, and his breath started to fail him. Within seconds of drinking his first sip the world turned on its axis, and the woman bared her teeth in a heinous smile that seemingly threatened to split her face in two. That was when Harry realised his milk had been poisoned. And as the world turned black around him, and the strength left Harry’s limbs he took the cup, and with one final act of defiance the woman’s face.