Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Landing on his feet

Landing on his feet

by prettytoney 5 reviews

37 year old Harry Potter faces many of the challenges of the mid-life crisis: snake cooking recipes, huge murderous women and traveling to an alternate universe are just some of the mundane tasks h...

Category: Harry Potter - Rating: R - Genres: Humor - Characters: Harry - Published: 2008-04-05 - Updated: 2008-04-06 - 5540 words

4Original
a/n: This is my first ever fic, unbeta-ed so its a bit rough around the edges.

Harry padded his way across the great river, trying to stay afloat as he shifted the weight in his mouth. It was a difficult exercise, breathing through his nose in perfect synch with his tired limbs so as to not drown in the rapidly rushing water.

He reached the bank, his every muscle aching with the wear and tear of the day. He dropped the large snake on the floor, the carcass making a soft thump as it fell. It was about 16 feet long, green scales glistening in the dying sun. Harry shook himself off, yellow-orange fur bristling as the water was propelled clean off it. He then morphed back into human form. An average sized, middle aged but handsome man stood in place, emerald green eyes shining in the orange sun, tanned skin covering muscled forearms, chest and body. He wore simple old boots, short and ragged jeans and a button up white shirt with a pocket on the side.

The snake had provided a very good challenge, Jaguars and Anacondas where very well matched and in the water the advantages weighed heavily towards the reptile. Harry hadn't let the odds deter him from jumping this one the moment he saw it. Though sport wasn't the only reason he had gone after it; the locals had a few recipes that could turn this snake into two weeks worth of semi-gourmet food. His expedition of the Amazonian basin was almost over, the local tribes had proven to be slightly more productive in knowledge of soul magic than the Mayan tombs he had raided last month, though they didn't hold a candle to the latter’s awesome library of ritual magic.

This was his life, traveling around the world, learning anything and everything that dealt with magic by any means necessary. He had laid a metaphorical path of destruction that spanned the entire globe, from ancient library to ancient library, from temple to temple, from tomb to tomb, from secret hidden magical community to secret hidden magical community. He had begun this impossible journey Seventeen years ago, his only companionship coming in the way of the random women he regularly bedded. He kept other human contact to a minimum, spending most of his time not learning in his animagus form.

Harry remembered a time when magic had been nothing but a toy to him, when he and Ron would joke around in the common room while Hermione nagged them about school work, when he barely tried in class; preferring to think about worthless things like quidditch. He hated remembering those times. If only he’d been half as prepared as he was now, maybe he could have saved them.

He almost slapped himself, it was not worth it thinking about past times. Instead he reflected on the fact that it was very nice to not have to use warming or disillusionment charms while hunting, as was the case when he was scouring eastern Europe and northern Asia. Besides, its not like studying would have changed shit, I could have studied my ass off but Voldemort would still have a few decades worth of experience and knowledge over me. He had developed a love for wild nature: murky water, large overgrown weeds, rotting trunks. Dumbledore knew it was worthless, training a child to do a wizards job. he tried to set it up so that all I‘d have to do was not fuck up and the day would be saved with few casualties. Needless to say I fucked up. He didn’t like the humidity though, and the candiru, fuck the candiru.


Harry rubbed a finger to his temples, looking into his worn bag for the ingredients he'd need to make dinner out of a dead snake. He set up a few quick privacy and general repelling wards, feeling too tired to fight other predators for his kill. He was in a small clearing a few yards off the river bank, though the foliage was so thick around him that a normal person would have been hard pressed to find the river. Once he had all the needed ingredients he concentrated slightly and watched as the tip of his wand burned a dull burgundy color, humming slightly. With practiced ease he drew a single rune on the floor
with his wand. Once the slight angular rune was finished, Harry lifted his wand for a second, the glow on the tip changing to a light blue, and tapped the middle of the rune, which immediately flamed up.

Controlled fiendfyre, this was the most you could get without losing command over it. Harry watched dispassionately as miniature beasts of all sorts tried futilely to escape their
entrapments. This powerful magical fire was very destructive, the rune he had just draw being a very common triggered trap in Egyptian pyramids, but a powerful wizard could have a small degree of control over it, turning it into an ideal cooking fire. He knew it was unnecessary, the taste of cooked snake wouldn’t be that different in a regular fire compared to fiendfyre, but Harry had developed a love, almost dependency on runes. He trusted runes more than wand magic, feeling that they where more permanent. That’s not to say he didn’t bother with other branches, he was very much experienced in almost every field of magic and could probably earn his mastery in all of them if he ever decided to return to England, though with all that he knew he still wasn’t close to the power either Voldemort or Dumbledore had held. He had long ago reconciled himself with the fact that if he wanted to be as powerful as they had been, he’d need to do it exactly like they had done: through decades of hard work.

Of course, it had taken Voldemort twenty odd years to reach his full power, but he was helped by the shortcuts of horribly deforming dark rituals that sped up his development. Harry hadn’t chosen the same path for two reasons: first; dark rituals, at least the ones Voldemort had performed, messed with the mind, giving power while taking sanity. Second; while Voldemort had surpassed Dumbledore in power, the duel at the ministry had proven that the old man's weathered skill was superior. This was not to say Harry hadn’t taken a few shortcuts, he had performed a few rituals to enhance his abilities. One which heightened his senses (this one was a double edged sword at the beginning, as he would get a migraine from hearing a pin drop and the smell of dirty socks was enough for him to pass out, but he gradually learned to dull them when not needed), another to augment his strength and resistance and a third very painful ritual to allow him to speak, hear, read and write in most human and magical languages (it did not give him back his parseltongue ability, not that he cared).


He levitated dinner over the Fire, concentrating to make sure it didn’t engulf the snake and instead cooked it. With a second wand he animated a small mortar to prepare the ingredients, herbs and spices being grinded by the pestle. This was a weird meal for him, as he either ate vegetables and rice as a human or raw meat as a Jaguar, but anaconda was just something he had to try as he was sure that not even man of the people who lived around this area had ever eaten it, most of them preferring monkey meat, which took very long to chew and gave off the effect of fullness much quicker than other meats.
________________________________________________________________________

The stars twinkled brightly in the night sky; unseen by many of its residents blinded by the cover of the trees, but clearly visible to tree dwellers: birds, monkeys and a huge cat. Harry rested on a heavy branch, he’d move at dawn, quickly as he was trespassing in another cats territory, and find the last of the tribes he’d visit. He was not very hopeful that they’d provide something new, but it was worth a shot. After that, his long journey would be over. He didn’t know what he’d do after that, and he didn’t want to think about it until the last possible moment.

Early morning found Harry once again braving the mighty river, though this time in a makeshift raft. The last village's Shaman had told him that this tribe lived in an island, separated from contact with other tribes. Harry had been traveling for a week and now the ocean was close by as the magically enhanced raft rode the river, reaching the southernmost part of its mouth. Soon he found himself in open sea. With the rough coordinates he got from the old priest he very quickly felt a strong air of magic which denoted the existence of a completely magical community. Harry was slightly shocked by this, as in all of his travels through the Amazon most magical beings lived in tribes with muggles, none of them having more than two wizards in one group. To find a Hogsmead or Tical here was unexpected. As he directed the raft into the island he jumped off and quickly vanished the conjured device away.

The beach was clean, maybe 3 yards of sand before his vision was engulfed by green and brown. Harry quickly shifted into his animagus form, entering the thick forest with a cautiousness inherent to his kind. The enhanced senses worked wonders here, adding to his already advanced animal senses to give him very sensitive alarms. He ignored the breaking of a twig, his instincts telling him that it was caused by a rather rotund Tapir. The rustling of the leaves was dismissed as a traveling Capuchin monkey. The whizzing sound of an approaching arrow was---FUCK!

Harry dived to the side as a red tipped arrow embedded itself on a tree. He smelled the aroma of some kind frog, which meant the arrow was probably poison tipped. He ran to the left as three more arrows narrowly missed him. He quickly sprang into action, shifting into human form, his wand raised in the air. An arrow was stopped in midair and thrown in the path of another, splitting them both down the middle. With cat like speed Harry drew a circle around him, swiftly drawing patterns inside it before tapping his foot in the middle. Immediately, an arrow headed towards him was stopped, turned around and sent back on its tracks. Harry could hear a surprised gasp as the person surely tried to dodge, futile as the ward caused the arrows to zone in on the closest magical human it could find. He soon heard another shriek, this one of pain, as the person was hit. He waited a few seconds, expecting more arrows to come his way, but was disconcerted when there was no new attack. It was deathly silent, but his senses again proved useful as he picked up a low murmur coming from whence the arrow had struck. it was maybe 5-6 voices, female. As he listened to the voices he diligently exited the circle, casting silencing and disillusionment charms over himself. At a brisk pace he walked closer to the murmurs, wand at the ready as he conjured a dagger for his left hand, second wand ready if needed on his shirt pocket (he’d rigged it to work as a wand holster with anti-summoning charms and the like), his bag swaying slightly as he walked. As He got close enough that he had to dull his hearing he was met with a breathtaking sight.

Five women, four of them conferring over the injured girl, where looking worriedly. They where all very beautiful, shoulder length silky black hair falling on mocha skin and big dark eyes. They where also tall, as tall as him, and had well proportioned bodies, a toga-like robe fitting tight against their bodies and leaving one breast uncovered. They where a perfect picture of beauty, and as Harry sensed a weird magic permeate the air around him he guessed that they where probably some south American variant of Veela. He raised his occlumency shields and canceled the charms on himself. Sweeping his wand in a semicircle he silently disarmed them of their many weapons, springing in on them before they could act and stunning the four standing women, animating the surrounding tree vines and using them to tie the women up. He pointed his wand at the injured one and spoke:

“Who are you and why did you attack me?”- He asked

She was breathing heavily, the poison very strong, but Harry wouldn’t heal her, it was better when they where hurt as they where more talkative.

“I will not tell you anything, male” she said defiantly

“Too bad, I’ve got this nice little antidote here that I’m afraid I’m just going to have to throw away” He said, pulling out of his bag a phial of clear liquid, hallucinogenous tree sap, but she didn’t need to know that.

“You lie” She was sweating heavily, death was probably only a few heartbeats away. His Veela theory was confirmed as she tried to entice him with tendrils of seductive magic which he shunned away.

“Your tricks wont work on me” he said “Now answer my questions or I’ll leave you and your friends to die, I’m sure the ants would enjoy the free meal” Ants would be the least of their creature worries if he left them here.

She still did not speak, though her beautiful features where shaking in barely concealed pain and fear. Harry sighed before going to work, performing legimency on her.

On the forefront of her weakened mind was her impending death, he quickly set aside these thoughts and looked for what should be number two on her what-to-think list; what not to tell him. Her mind was like an open book as he learned of her people, the more he knew the less intrigued he became.

Apparently he had stumbled upon the famed women of the Amazon, a society of powerful magical women who despised men; using them only for breeding purposes and quickly killing them. Whilst they where very much magical, they like the European veela only used their powers for seduction and primitive battle magic, giving them extra skill when fighting and making them very fierce warriors. Apparently these where beginners, young teenage girls barely trained. This girl in particular was the youngest of the group, named Amalinalli, daughter of queen Kiliwa. After thoroughly searching her mind for something else, a shrine, powerful magical object, mythical super-powerful beast, Harry withdrew from her mind. These people had nothing to offer him.

He reached for where the arrow was stuck in her thigh and pulled it out, not reacting to her pain filled moans. He went to work as he pulled out an actual antidote from his bag, forcing it down her throat without much opposition (by now she was almost passed out) he quickly healed the wound on her thigh and stepped back.

As she came to Harry released the other girls from their bindings but didn't enneverate them. As Amalinalli shook the last of grogginess off herself, Harry spoke:

“Now listen up, I will leave this island and never come back, you wake up your friends and go back to your village, mention this to no one. This place holds nothing of interest for me-” He paused, looking her up and down “-well, maybe one thing” He grinned at her horrified look, he wasn’t a sadistic bastard, but lack of proper human contact outside of philosophical ramblings with old men made him a bit rusty on the rules of common courtesy.

As he was about to make some particularly funny quip he‘d been saving up, he heard the renewed sound of a whizzing arrow, and he ducked to the floor as a branch was impaled, barely missing the now fleeing hummingbird. Cursing under his breath he turned around and ran towards the beach. He easily dodged more arrows headed his way, though he didn’t have enough breathing room to shift into his animagus form. Creating a fire whip, he spun in a circle, cutting across the trees around him and causing them to fall. A chain reaction came soon after which cleared a good 60 yard area around him. He waited, seeing at the corner of his eye the inviting sea.


The destruction of a chunk of forest seemed to anger them, As a hail of arrows almost blotted out the sun. Harry simply flicked his wand, only to find that these arrows where not so easily cast away. He frowned slightly as he twirled his wand, a quickly conjured muggle sprinkler sprayed the sky with purple-blue flames, burning through the arrows and surrounding trees like knife through butter, Harry himself was protected under a nice stone umbrella. After a minute he vanished the sprinkler, and beheld his work. Trees all around him where burning down, fire spreading, he could see figures moving frantically in the background, trying to douse the growing inferno. He started walking towards the beach, when he had to dodge yet again, this time a punch.

A very tall woman stood in front of him. If it weren’t for her great beauty and the lack of bulk in her features, he would have thought her a giantess. Of course she was way too short to be a giant, though her 6 feet 5 inches where still very imposing. Harry’s eyes widened as she pulled out a spear and he raised his wand, sending a pair of bludgeoning curses which she batted away with the magically enhanced stick. She expertly swung it, swatting aside any offensive spell he tried to get in as she attempted to rip his guts out. He got caught many times, his though skin making would be gashes into grazes. His inexperience with non-magical battle showed as she whacked him across the back with her spear, causing him to lose his breath and almost release the grip on his wand. Harry regrouped, spraying a thick mist at the Amazon; she sniffed at the air, confused, until every animal in the area, having run for cover, came back and savagely jumped her. Ants, snakes, beetles, deer, margay, howler monkeys, parrots of all sorts and every other creature in the area mounted o the large woman. Harry took this distraction to prepare his real attack.

Finding a shallow cut across his stomach, he plunged his wand into it, wincing slightly as he deepened the wound. As he pulled his wand out he growled as he realized that his bag and all its contents had been battered beyond use. With the blood tipped wand he Swished his wand in the air, concentrating heavily while incanting in the language of the Haitian voodoo priests. The blood red rune written in the air in front of him glowed even whilst he was drawing it, sending low level curses at the Amazon with his second wand. Just as she swatted the last of the large animals away from her and the smaller one left due to weakening spell, Harry had finished his rune, jabbing his wand forward and through the rune.

There was a burst of light coming from the oblong shaped rune, Harry closed his eyes as he was blinded, until the light subsided and in front of him there sat a figure. With long crooked claws, ugly face and large dark wings a stone gargoyle sprang to life, 6 feet tall and with empty white eyes, leaving behind a still glowing rune. The Amazon looked amazed at the display of magic, but once she saw the gargoyle her posture changed to one of battle. Raising her spear she waited as it flew towards he before taking a powerful swing of her spear with her mighty arms, only to have the spear bend, vibrations running up to her palms, making her almost drop the spear. The gargoyle took a swipe with its claws, drawing blood from her face as she tried grabbing it over the head, only for it to twist her arm with demon like speed.

Harry released the breath he had been holding. That had been a bit of a fusion, mixing ancient European gargoyles with Haitian summoning magic. The gargoyle was a mindless drone, pitted against a specific enemy it could wreak havoc like no other, being indestructible by any magical means.

That last part was only a half-truth, it was destructible by very simple magical mean- you just had to disrupt the rune. Of course, not many people thought about it, especially when they where being attacked by a vicious demon.

Harry began healing the wound on his left arm, relishing in the pain filled scream the Amazon emitted as the gargoyle ripped off the flesh in her right leg, when out of the corner of his eyes he saw something brown approaching. He started as he saw the flying monkey, headed straight for his rune! He raised his wand, a spell on his mind, but the monkey had been thrown too fast. Harry could only view horrified as the shrieking ball of hair collided with his rune, electrocuting itself and, more importantly, disrupting the rune.

The split second was all that was needed for Harry’s wonderful piece of magic to implode, the gargoyle turning into a mountain of rubble.

Anger swelled up inside of him. No one fucked with his runes. As the tip of his wand burned an ugly red, he pointed his wand at the beaten Amazon, unleashing a ball of fire twice her size that engulfed her- a constant stream of fire coming from Harry’s wand, burning through the foliage and clearing a path to the beach, leaving all in its wake dead.

As Harry’s anger subsided, his breathing calmed down and he dropped his wand, which was burning his fingers. He clenched and unclenched his hands, snapping his second wand in half. Harry didn’t care, he needed to regroup after that outburst, too much time spent with only magic had made him a bit too unstable.

As he took the first of what he hoped to be many brisk steps towards the beach, he fell unconscious as something huge clubbed him over the back of the head.

________________________________________________________________________


Harry felt a searing pain threaten to tear his skull apart as he came to. He was about to ignore the death threat being sent to him by his brain until he saw it was written in red ink, drops of blood trickling down the side of his field of vision. He tried to rub his scalp to temper the pain only to find his hands tied behind his back. He looked down to find himself naked

“Curse Latin women and their weird turn ons” He said, sadly realizing that there was no one there to nervously chuckle at his joke. He really needed a sidekick, maybe a flying monkey would lighten his life up.

As he took notice of his surroundings he saw he was in a huge boulder, From the sounds of the waves behind him he deduced that it was facing the sea, probably a cliff-face, and that the fall was fairly high. A thick pole was protruding from the middle of the rock, ten feet high. Attached to five feet an 10 vertical inches of that pole was himself, tightly bound to it by very heavy ropes. His arms tied behind the pole, his feet only a few inches off the ground also tied at the ankles. Shifting into animagus form would be dangerous, he was sure that the ropes would not give way when his wrists thickened.

As he contemplated the pros and cons of lubricating the ropes on his feet with urine, a large congregation of the Amazons walked up to him, wild chatter disturbing the soothing sound of the crashing waves as numerous accusing glares where cast his way.

as the group settled ten yards in front of him, one in the pack walked up to the front. Harry had to catch his breath, even in such a dire situation he could admire beauty, and this lady had it in spades. The regal air she held around herself and the light golden colored robes flaring with a mystifying aura. She was not taller than the woman he had fought, to she was still taller than him by a good 4 inches, but there was no mistake that she was the queen of the Amazon.

“Male” She spat at him with disgust. Harry noticed that she was speaking to him in Spanish instead of her native tongue, a translator relaying every word to the angry mob “You have trespassed into MY island, the peaceful utopia of Amazonia, you maim my daughter, destroy my forest and KILL my sister-” fuck”-you have single handedly proven in a few hours why the male species should be wiped off the face of the earth” she paused, waiting for the translator to finish the retelling and for the crowd to get riled up.

“Give me one good reason why I should kill you swiftly, instead of slowly and painfully, like I plan to do” She said, he delicate hand forcefully grabbing his jaw and lining his sight with hers. She looked so cute, incensed like that.

Harry thought quickly, skipping “could you at least use me for mating first” he decided on the much more tactful “You should let me be because- “ he paused, waiting until the translator finished talking “- I SPEAK YOUR LANGUAGE!” he yelled in the tongue he had previously conversed with the princess.

There where immediate gasps from the crowd of onlookers. A male speaking the sacred Amazon language was inconceivable.

"Impossible!" The queen yelled in his face, sexy drops of spit coating his eyes and nose.


"It is true mother!" came the voice of the princess, her name started with an A, who was red in the face. "He spoke to me as if he had been raised in the Amazon"

"You told me he attacked you!" She turned, waving an accusing finger at her daughter.

“H-he d-did” She stuttered “But afterwards he spoke to me, and he healed my wounds!” Nice of the little bint to come to his rescue now "W-we saw him enter the island, at first we where going to capture him but when we saw him turn into the spotted beast we panicked" she said with a shuddering breath

Mentions of a spotted beast seemed to stop all movement, as the older women's eyes widened. The queen looked at Harry as if he was some sort of demon, and she seemed to be having a hard time staying on her feet.

Harry gulped, his hopes of release, or at least pre-death orgy, crushed as all eyes where on him. "Is that a bad thing?"

________________________________________________________________________

Harry had always preferred the green grapes. Ron and Hermione had thought it was because green was his favorite color, what with the eyes and all, but it was actually because they where seedless. Of course there where seedless purple grapes, but he always associated that with unnatural bioengineering evils.

Right now though, watching as the six foot eight woman spit four seeds, one after the other, about halfway across the island before feeding them to his lounging form, he had to admit the purple ones had their advantages.

Harry had never been one for hedonism, since his days of hard work in his relatives house to running around the country barely escaping the dark lord to running around the world sleeping in trees, he never had any time to bask in luxury and he never felt the need to. Now though, he felt like he could give himself a little break from all the rough living, after all it wasn’t everyday a vicious society of beautiful man killing women worshipped you as a god.

Harry had time to idly notice that the girl with the A name needed more work on her tongue skills, he’d need to schedule more training sessions with her mother. The tag team mud wrestling league seemed to be coming along nicely. Of course, it wasn’t all fun and games, he had godly duties to fulfill (which the queen ever so kindly filled him in on), duties that mostly involved activities of the carnal variety, all very rigorous and tiring work that he performed with a smile.

He was lazing in his chair, twirling his wand in his fingers, he would never abandon magic, his one true love, and he was constantly frustrated as he tried teaching these beasts the finer of the magical arts. You’d think that after getting a blowjob down pat, Slavic rune patterns would be a piece of cake. He was contemplating changing the curriculum to more druid alleys to see if they picked anything up when the arrival of the queen was announced by a wet kiss on the tip of his member, the formal introduction he had introduced.

“Mighty lord Hattiangdi, spotted god and protector of Amazonia, you are needed to fulfill your duties” She said in an exited tone

Harry jumped off his chair, excited to complete a days honest work.

“You’ll need to be without your effects for this” She said, Harry understood, removing his toga and handing her his wand.

He expected the queen to lead him to one of the girls huts, or maybe to the river where the older women spent their day. He didn’t expect for her to take him into a large clearing in the forest, a circular area devoid of even the smallest of grass with an irregularly shaped hole at one of its edges, the left side for Harry.

“um, I’ve never been here” Harry said, thinking it odd that he’d never been to such a particular spot in a small island.

“Its because its never been here before, until today” She said “The prophesy is ready to be fulfilled, the man-god must perform the ultimate sacrifice so that the women of Amazonia can overcome all their enemies”

She had him at prophesy, as he turned tail and ran as far as he could, which wasn’t much when you bumped into a pair of the bigger females in the island, almost reaching seven feet.

Harry scrambled up, only for each of them to grab him by either side. He could see the whole island convening to see this event, they where going to execute him, though this time they gazed at him with love in their eyes. Harry twisted and turned, trying to use his enhanced strength for some leeway to no avail. As queen what’s-her-name ignited a controlled fiendfire around the hole in the clearing, Harry realized with a sinking feeling that they had learned something from his lessons after all.

As two more huge women walked up to him, each holding one of his legs as the first two shifted to hold his arms, he watched in horror as the same mouths that had helped fulfill his godly duties now happily incanted his death. The entire island started chanting in gibberish as the queen painted drawings, first around his chest, then his thighs, legs, back and face. Sniffing the air Harry realized it was Jaguar blood. The girl with the A name stepped up, as Harry remembered that she was also the queens daughter, and his eyes almost popped out of their sockets as she drew a type of dagger he knew very well. The next few minutes where agony as Amalinalli traced the runes her mother had drawn with the dagger, taking painstaking attention to detail as she made sure the cuts where deep, like the ritual called for.

They proceeded to chant for a while longer, 4 hours or so, until the blood in Harry’s wounds had dried off and was starting to scab rapidly (effect of endurance ritual) as a groggy and tired Harry woke up in the middle of a circle, he only had enough time to read a rune that spelled trouble before he succumbed to immense pain.

He choked, trying to bite his mouth shut, but magic did its job, and soon the queen had one human heart for the feasting. As she handed the delicacy over for the roasting, she whispered for the others to prepare Harry’s final part in the ritual.

As he lay there, battered and dying, his subconscious could only comment on the nice and sexy way their breasts swayed even as they threw him over the pit, fiendfire feasting on his skin as he fell into darkness.

A/N: I deliberately Mel Gibsoned the whole sacrife thing. The fic started off more serious than this but I decided it'd take a light turn right in the middle.
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