Categories > Books > Harry Potter
Harry Potter and The Cult of The Slayer
Set after OoTP. Harry is back for his sixth year at Hogwarts. With Voldemort now out in the open Harry begins to train himself for the final battle. A new and mysterious teacher is thrown into the ...
?Blocked
A cold wind blows across the snow swept Norwegian country side. A few house lights glittered in a nearby village. However, there were no people to be seen. They all stayed locked up inside the security of there houses. Something evil stalked the forest of this land.
A lone figure made his way through the snow towards Darkeen Forest. His movements were strong and calculated. He moved through the thick snow silently, he knew all too well what terrorized Darkeen. Ten children had disappeared in the past month as well as three Ministry Aurors. It was always the same story, the Ministry would be in a tight spot and they would call him to clean it up. He sighed; tomorrow he would be seventeen, legally of age in his world. It didn’t matter two ounces of piss to him though. It wouldn’t change his life as it would some. His life’s story was already basically written out for him. The particulars were perhaps hazy but for a member of the Cult of the Slayer, he knew he would die in battle. That he would go out in a flash of glory in honorable combat to a dark wizard, or a dragon, or perhaps a banshee, or to whatever else happened to be terrorizing the land. It didn’t matter to him though; when his luck ran out he would meet death as a warrior. He was Ryan Walker, known by his fellow Slayers as Reklaw. He unsheathed the massive broad sword from his back and searched for his quarry.
In the moonlight the mountain troll observed the intruder or his territory. Even its primitive brain could tell this human was different from the others that made up its diet. The troll studied the man; he stood about six foot four, and even through his cloak his muscular body was quite evident. The man’s bearded face was fixed in a scowl and was marked with scars from previous battles. The troll gripped the tree trunk it used as a club in anticipation for its upcoming meal.
Reklaw jerked his head up, feeling eyes upon him. The hair on the back of his neck stood up as he slipped his wand into the compartment at the base of his swords pommel. The moon shined off his icy blue eyes as he surveyed his surroundings trying to determine where the attack would come from. His eyes briefly fell on a large evergreen. He slowly raised his sword.
“May death come to me with honor”, he whispered. The troll burst through the branches of the evergreen with a menacing roar in response. Reklaw marveled at the size of the creature, it stood at least ten feet tall and must have weighed a couple thousand pounds. He glared at the skulls that adorned the troll’s waist. “Best to make this as quick as possible”, he thought to himself. The Troll thundered forward with speed surprising for its massive size. Reklaw stood his ground as the charging troll made its way towards him. He apparated as the troll brought its club down on the spot he once stood. Reklaw appeared behind the beast and swung his sword at the back of the troll’s knees. Blood stained the snow as the troll roared in agony as all its tendons were all severed. Collapsing to the ground the creature managed to swing its bulk around, its eyes fiery with rage as it stared at the man with the crimson stained blade.
Even though the troll was wounded, and couldn’t walk it was still very dangerous and far from defeated. There were reports of wounded trolls killing scores of wizards in blind rage. Reklaw circled the beast taking an occasional swipe at it with his sword. The beast howled in pain as Reklaw swung his sword into the flesh of its shoulder. Reklaw heard the crack of the troll’s shoulder blade. He smiled in anticipation of his kill, the Elder Slayers would be very pleased with him. He tried to jerk back his sword but it wouldn’t budge. It was stuck in the bone. He heaved once more; he could feel the blade start to give. It was then that the troll hit him with its one good arm.
“Shit”, was all Reklaw could gasp before he felt the air being driven from his lungs by the troll’s monstrous strength. The troll had him pinned between its upper arm and the ground. The troll leaned forward putting more pressure on Reklaw. The young Slayer’s vision became hazy. “This is it”, he thought, “Bested by a smelly fucking troll.” He couldn’t give up; there was no honor in this death. He had battled wizards and creatures far deadlier than this troll. His hand made its way to the hatchet he carried on his belt. With all his might he threw the hatchet at the trolls face. The hatchet flew end over end through the air at its target. It flew true and hit the troll square in the eye. The troll reared back in agony as it tried to claw the hatchet from its face. Reklaw took advantage of the situation and pulled his sword from the beast’s shoulder. This battle was over.
“Avada Kedavra Ferrum”, Reklaw roared. His sword started to glow a bright green. He plunged the blade deep into the troll’s heart. He caught the glimmers of fear in the troll’s eyes just before the killing curse sucked the beast’s life from it. Reklaw held his ribs gingerly as he stared at the dead troll. The ministry had offered a ten thousand galleon reward for the beast’s head and that was one request he was more than happy to deliver. He walked over to the creature’s head. With his sword he sawed the troll’s head off its body. It was tedious work trying to get through its thick skin; growing impatient he stood up and with one flick of his sword the troll’s head rolled into the snow. He picked it up and smiled as he decided to leave the hatchet embedded in the creatures face. The minister is certainly going to get a kick out of this on. With a small crack he was gone.
The Norwegian Ministry for Magic was set deep under Oslo’s streets, in a network of caverns and passageways. Men and women from the ministry’s different departments would have usually been traveling the many stone corridors but tonight the Ministry was empty, except for two people. These two were the Minister himself, Bjorn Jurgenson, and a man named Antinius, Head of the Cult of Slayers. Minister Jurgenson was a tall man with flowing blonde hair and a beard almost as long. His family had stretched back to the days of Odin, or so it was said anyway. The Minister was well liked by his people and had served for three terms. The normally happy man’s face was creased in a frown as he looked at the man that was sitting in his office.
“I tell you Antinius the boy is far too young to be going off on missions like this. He is of age tomorrow and he has already faced horrors that my senior Aurors should be facing. I mean does Ryan even have any friends; you’ve stolen this boy’s life away from him.” sated the Minister.
Antinius looked at the Minister with a small smile on his heavily scarred face. His long brown tangled hair masking all but his mouth. When he spoke his gruff voice cracked in amusement, “What would you have me do about it? I admit I found the boy after his parent’s were murdered and I cared for him, but he is the one who took the Oath of the Slayer. He is the one who volunteers for our most dangerous of assignments, and he is the one that has sworn to protect the Ministry and its people. While you may be popular with this country’s people few Slayers trust this government, and even fewer like you Minister. So be happy that Ryan, as you call him, works for you and be honored that he shows a certain degree of fondness for you. Or maybe the true problem lies on the fact that the mighty Ministry of Magic relies on a mere child to do their dirty work? The Minister didn’t answer the man’s question. They just glared at each other for a few moments until a crack disrupted the strained silence.
Reklaw appeared behind the Minister laughing, “Is it safe to assume that you two were quarreling about something? Or has age really wrinkled your faces into such truly horrifying things that it makes the troll I just faced look damn attractive?” He then brought the troll’s head out from behind his back and placed it in front of the Minister, “Christmas comes early to you my good Ministers.”
“Ryan, could you please explain to me why you have placed a troll’s decapitated head in front of me, and better yet why it has a hatchet in one of its eyes”, Inquired the Minister with a pained look in his eyes.
“Minister how many times have we been through this my name is Reklaw. Ryan Walker died two years ago when I took up the Slayer’s Oath, pleas do try to remember it. On the official bounty given to me it said that the Ministry had placed a bounty on the head of whatever it was that was killing the children around Darkeen Forest. So that is why this head has been placed in front of you. Now the hatchet bit, that is a rather long story that I feel you will not want to hear”, Reklaw muttered.
The Minister gazed at the young man that stood before him. “You are mistaken. Any story you have is worth telling and from the length you were gone I know it is not the long drawn out story you are try to make us believe. Please do tell, Ryan, and for the record you will always be Ryan to me. I remember when you were brought before me when your parents were murdered; I was just an Auror then. While I’ll admit that your skills are impressive, I will never see you as the Slayer, but as that same young boy of ten. Now please do enlighten us on why your hatchet is stuck in this troll’s skull.”
Ryan tried to think of the best way he could possibly say this,” Well you see the thing about that is… umm… my sword kind of got stuck in the trolls shoulder. Let’s just say that I was trying to get it out and…”
This time Antinius was the one who spoke up,” And what Reklaw?”
Ryan sighed. “Fucking Antinius, why the hell did he have to say anything?” he thought. He looked at both men and finally blurted out,” The stupid troll had me pinned to the ground trying to crush me, so I threw my hatchet at it. And before you say it Antinius, I know that swinging my sword at the troll’s shoulder was a bad move. I was victorious though and that’s all that matters. So... any new jobs come up?” Ryan looked at both men expectantly. His gaze first fell on Antinius, who just shook his head no. Then his eyes fell onto the Minister.
“Well Ryan”, he began,” An old friend owled me recently, asking for some help in England.”
“I haven’t been to England in a long time. Who is the friend and what is the nature of the problem... Wizard or Creature?”
“The friend is Albus Dumbledore, at to be perfectly frank there are problems with both, but that is not entirely what he is asking for help with. You see he needs someone to help train a student at Hogwarts.”
“You want to send me to a stupid ass school to train some fucking brat. Count me out.”
“Please try to refrain from using such vulgar language around me. The child in question is not just any fucking brat as you so eloquently put it.”, The Minister’s eyes traveled to the map on the wall of his office, finally resting on England, “Do you know the story of Harry Potter.”
A lone figure made his way through the snow towards Darkeen Forest. His movements were strong and calculated. He moved through the thick snow silently, he knew all too well what terrorized Darkeen. Ten children had disappeared in the past month as well as three Ministry Aurors. It was always the same story, the Ministry would be in a tight spot and they would call him to clean it up. He sighed; tomorrow he would be seventeen, legally of age in his world. It didn’t matter two ounces of piss to him though. It wouldn’t change his life as it would some. His life’s story was already basically written out for him. The particulars were perhaps hazy but for a member of the Cult of the Slayer, he knew he would die in battle. That he would go out in a flash of glory in honorable combat to a dark wizard, or a dragon, or perhaps a banshee, or to whatever else happened to be terrorizing the land. It didn’t matter to him though; when his luck ran out he would meet death as a warrior. He was Ryan Walker, known by his fellow Slayers as Reklaw. He unsheathed the massive broad sword from his back and searched for his quarry.
In the moonlight the mountain troll observed the intruder or his territory. Even its primitive brain could tell this human was different from the others that made up its diet. The troll studied the man; he stood about six foot four, and even through his cloak his muscular body was quite evident. The man’s bearded face was fixed in a scowl and was marked with scars from previous battles. The troll gripped the tree trunk it used as a club in anticipation for its upcoming meal.
Reklaw jerked his head up, feeling eyes upon him. The hair on the back of his neck stood up as he slipped his wand into the compartment at the base of his swords pommel. The moon shined off his icy blue eyes as he surveyed his surroundings trying to determine where the attack would come from. His eyes briefly fell on a large evergreen. He slowly raised his sword.
“May death come to me with honor”, he whispered. The troll burst through the branches of the evergreen with a menacing roar in response. Reklaw marveled at the size of the creature, it stood at least ten feet tall and must have weighed a couple thousand pounds. He glared at the skulls that adorned the troll’s waist. “Best to make this as quick as possible”, he thought to himself. The Troll thundered forward with speed surprising for its massive size. Reklaw stood his ground as the charging troll made its way towards him. He apparated as the troll brought its club down on the spot he once stood. Reklaw appeared behind the beast and swung his sword at the back of the troll’s knees. Blood stained the snow as the troll roared in agony as all its tendons were all severed. Collapsing to the ground the creature managed to swing its bulk around, its eyes fiery with rage as it stared at the man with the crimson stained blade.
Even though the troll was wounded, and couldn’t walk it was still very dangerous and far from defeated. There were reports of wounded trolls killing scores of wizards in blind rage. Reklaw circled the beast taking an occasional swipe at it with his sword. The beast howled in pain as Reklaw swung his sword into the flesh of its shoulder. Reklaw heard the crack of the troll’s shoulder blade. He smiled in anticipation of his kill, the Elder Slayers would be very pleased with him. He tried to jerk back his sword but it wouldn’t budge. It was stuck in the bone. He heaved once more; he could feel the blade start to give. It was then that the troll hit him with its one good arm.
“Shit”, was all Reklaw could gasp before he felt the air being driven from his lungs by the troll’s monstrous strength. The troll had him pinned between its upper arm and the ground. The troll leaned forward putting more pressure on Reklaw. The young Slayer’s vision became hazy. “This is it”, he thought, “Bested by a smelly fucking troll.” He couldn’t give up; there was no honor in this death. He had battled wizards and creatures far deadlier than this troll. His hand made its way to the hatchet he carried on his belt. With all his might he threw the hatchet at the trolls face. The hatchet flew end over end through the air at its target. It flew true and hit the troll square in the eye. The troll reared back in agony as it tried to claw the hatchet from its face. Reklaw took advantage of the situation and pulled his sword from the beast’s shoulder. This battle was over.
“Avada Kedavra Ferrum”, Reklaw roared. His sword started to glow a bright green. He plunged the blade deep into the troll’s heart. He caught the glimmers of fear in the troll’s eyes just before the killing curse sucked the beast’s life from it. Reklaw held his ribs gingerly as he stared at the dead troll. The ministry had offered a ten thousand galleon reward for the beast’s head and that was one request he was more than happy to deliver. He walked over to the creature’s head. With his sword he sawed the troll’s head off its body. It was tedious work trying to get through its thick skin; growing impatient he stood up and with one flick of his sword the troll’s head rolled into the snow. He picked it up and smiled as he decided to leave the hatchet embedded in the creatures face. The minister is certainly going to get a kick out of this on. With a small crack he was gone.
The Norwegian Ministry for Magic was set deep under Oslo’s streets, in a network of caverns and passageways. Men and women from the ministry’s different departments would have usually been traveling the many stone corridors but tonight the Ministry was empty, except for two people. These two were the Minister himself, Bjorn Jurgenson, and a man named Antinius, Head of the Cult of Slayers. Minister Jurgenson was a tall man with flowing blonde hair and a beard almost as long. His family had stretched back to the days of Odin, or so it was said anyway. The Minister was well liked by his people and had served for three terms. The normally happy man’s face was creased in a frown as he looked at the man that was sitting in his office.
“I tell you Antinius the boy is far too young to be going off on missions like this. He is of age tomorrow and he has already faced horrors that my senior Aurors should be facing. I mean does Ryan even have any friends; you’ve stolen this boy’s life away from him.” sated the Minister.
Antinius looked at the Minister with a small smile on his heavily scarred face. His long brown tangled hair masking all but his mouth. When he spoke his gruff voice cracked in amusement, “What would you have me do about it? I admit I found the boy after his parent’s were murdered and I cared for him, but he is the one who took the Oath of the Slayer. He is the one who volunteers for our most dangerous of assignments, and he is the one that has sworn to protect the Ministry and its people. While you may be popular with this country’s people few Slayers trust this government, and even fewer like you Minister. So be happy that Ryan, as you call him, works for you and be honored that he shows a certain degree of fondness for you. Or maybe the true problem lies on the fact that the mighty Ministry of Magic relies on a mere child to do their dirty work? The Minister didn’t answer the man’s question. They just glared at each other for a few moments until a crack disrupted the strained silence.
Reklaw appeared behind the Minister laughing, “Is it safe to assume that you two were quarreling about something? Or has age really wrinkled your faces into such truly horrifying things that it makes the troll I just faced look damn attractive?” He then brought the troll’s head out from behind his back and placed it in front of the Minister, “Christmas comes early to you my good Ministers.”
“Ryan, could you please explain to me why you have placed a troll’s decapitated head in front of me, and better yet why it has a hatchet in one of its eyes”, Inquired the Minister with a pained look in his eyes.
“Minister how many times have we been through this my name is Reklaw. Ryan Walker died two years ago when I took up the Slayer’s Oath, pleas do try to remember it. On the official bounty given to me it said that the Ministry had placed a bounty on the head of whatever it was that was killing the children around Darkeen Forest. So that is why this head has been placed in front of you. Now the hatchet bit, that is a rather long story that I feel you will not want to hear”, Reklaw muttered.
The Minister gazed at the young man that stood before him. “You are mistaken. Any story you have is worth telling and from the length you were gone I know it is not the long drawn out story you are try to make us believe. Please do tell, Ryan, and for the record you will always be Ryan to me. I remember when you were brought before me when your parents were murdered; I was just an Auror then. While I’ll admit that your skills are impressive, I will never see you as the Slayer, but as that same young boy of ten. Now please do enlighten us on why your hatchet is stuck in this troll’s skull.”
Ryan tried to think of the best way he could possibly say this,” Well you see the thing about that is… umm… my sword kind of got stuck in the trolls shoulder. Let’s just say that I was trying to get it out and…”
This time Antinius was the one who spoke up,” And what Reklaw?”
Ryan sighed. “Fucking Antinius, why the hell did he have to say anything?” he thought. He looked at both men and finally blurted out,” The stupid troll had me pinned to the ground trying to crush me, so I threw my hatchet at it. And before you say it Antinius, I know that swinging my sword at the troll’s shoulder was a bad move. I was victorious though and that’s all that matters. So... any new jobs come up?” Ryan looked at both men expectantly. His gaze first fell on Antinius, who just shook his head no. Then his eyes fell onto the Minister.
“Well Ryan”, he began,” An old friend owled me recently, asking for some help in England.”
“I haven’t been to England in a long time. Who is the friend and what is the nature of the problem... Wizard or Creature?”
“The friend is Albus Dumbledore, at to be perfectly frank there are problems with both, but that is not entirely what he is asking for help with. You see he needs someone to help train a student at Hogwarts.”
“You want to send me to a stupid ass school to train some fucking brat. Count me out.”
“Please try to refrain from using such vulgar language around me. The child in question is not just any fucking brat as you so eloquently put it.”, The Minister’s eyes traveled to the map on the wall of his office, finally resting on England, “Do you know the story of Harry Potter.”
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