Harry Potter and the Shattered Ring

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The following 8 chapters are already available to Patrons.

Chapter 3 (The Lands Between), Chapter 4 (Tree Sentinel), Chapter 5 (Grace and Gold), Chapter 6 (Allies and Enemies), Chapter 7 (A Snake in the Darkness), Chapter 8 (Ranni, The Witch), Chapter 9 (Golden Sky, Red Sky), and Chapter 10 (Margit, The Fell are already available for Patrons.

Harry's mouth went dry. "Who... who are you?" he managed to croak out, his voice barely above a whisper.

The woman stood silently for a moment, her face still hidden in the shadow of her hood. Then, with deliberate slowness, she reached up and pushed the hood back.

Harry's breath caught in his throat. She was beautiful, with cute features and light brown hair that shimmered with hints of red in the blue light. But what caught his attention most was her eyes - or rather, eye. Her right eye was a striking purple color, while her left eye remained firmly shut, and there was a claw mark across her left closed eye.

"Greetings, Chosen Tarnished," she said, her voice soft yet filled with power. "I am Melina." 

Harry blinked, then ran a hand through his still-damp hair. "Er, I actually had a shower about an hour ago, so I'm fairly clean at the moment."

A small laugh escaped Melina's lips, surprising them both. "Your wit serves you well, but that is not what I meant. Where I come from, the Tarnished are warriors who lost the grace of the Erdtree. They were banished from the Lands Between, cast out to wander in exile."

"Sounds cheerful," Harry muttered. "But what makes you think I'm one of these Tarnished? I've never even heard of the Lands Between, let alone been banished from them."

Melina's expression grew thoughtful. "You are... different from the others. Special, in a way I have not encountered before."

"Right, because I'm not special enough already," Harry sighed, flopping back onto his bed. "What's this Erdtree thing anyway? The one you used to heal my knee this morning?"

"The Erdtree is the source of all grace in the Lands Between," Melina explained, her voice taking on an almost reverent tone. "It is a manifestation of the Greater Will, a golden tree that towers above all, its branches reaching into the heavens themselves."

"Sounds impressive," Harry said. "But you still haven't explained why I'm supposedly special. Or why you're here."

A mysterious smile played across Melina's lips. "Even I do not fully understand why you were chosen. But I do know that your help is needed. The Lands Between faces a grave threat, one that could spill over into other worlds - including yours."

Harry sat up straighter at Melina's mention of threats. "What exactly do you mean by threats coming to this world? I've already got Voldemort to deal with."

Melina's expression darkened slightly. "In the Lands Between, there exist beings known as Outer Gods - entities of immense power that seek to exert their influence over our world. They work through chosen vessels, corrupting and transforming them to serve their purposes."

"Like possession?" Harry asked, thinking of Tom Riddle's diary.

"Similar, but far more insidious," Melina explained. "Take Malenia, for instance. She was a proud warrior, undefeated in battle, until the Goddess of Rot chose her. The goddess's influence transformed her, turning her into a harbinger of decay and destruction."

Harry frowned. "I don't know who Malenia is, but this doesn't sound good."

"It isn't," Melina confirmed. "And now... I believe one of these Outer Gods - possibly the Frenzied Flame - has made contact with someone in your world."

Harry felt a chill run down his spine. "The Frenzied Flame? Sounds lovely," he said sarcastically. "Please tell me you might be wrong about this."

Melina shook her head, her single visible eye filled with concern. "While I cannot be certain which Outer God has breached the boundary between our worlds, I am sure that one has. I mention the Frenzied Flame because it is perhaps the most dangerous of them all."

"More dangerous than the Goddess of Rot?" Harry asked.

"The Frenzied Flame seeks to reduce all existence to chaos," Melina said, her voice barely above a whisper. "It drives its vessels mad with an endless hunger for destruction. It doesn't simply want to rule or corrupt - it wants to burn everything to ash and return the world to primordial chaos."

"Brilliant," Harry muttered. "Because Voldemort wasn't bad enough on his own. Now we might have to deal with some chaos god driving people mental." He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "How would we even know if someone's been influenced by this Frenzied Flame?"

"The signs are... distinctive," Melina said carefully. "Those touched by the Frenzied Flame often exhibit erratic behavior, speak of chaos and destruction as salvation, and in advanced cases, their eyes..." She paused. "Their eyes begin to change, taking on an amber hue with patterns like burning embers."

"Right," Harry said. "So just keep an eye out for anyone acting crazy and talking about burning everything down. Should be easy enough to spot in a magical world where people regularly turn teacups into mice and fly on broomsticks."

A slight smile tugged at Melina's lips. "Your sarcasm masks your concern well, Chosen Tarnished."

"Yeah, well, years of practice," Harry replied. "So if you're right about this - and I'm not saying you are - what exactly can be done about it?"

"That," Melina said, "is part of why I sought you out. The connection between our worlds has created a unique opportunity. You possess qualities that might allow you to resist and combat these influences in ways others cannot."

"Because I'm the Chosen Tarnished?" Harry asked skeptically.

"Because you are Harry Potter," Melina corrected. "The Chosen Tarnished title is... merely an additional aspect of who you are becoming."

"Becoming?" Harry raised an eyebrow. "That sounds ominous."

"Perhaps," Melina acknowledged. 

Harry sat up straighter, his expression hardening. "Look, no offense, but I don't know you. You show up out of nowhere, heal my knee with some strange magic, call me 'chosen,' and now you want me to help save some place I've never heard of? I've had enough experience with people trying to kill me, thanks. How do I know this isn't some elaborate trap?"

"Your caution is wise," Melina acknowledged, nodding. "I would not expect you to trust me blindly, nor would I ask you to make a decision now. Instead, I offer you this."

She held out her hand, and in her palm materialized a golden ring. Intricate tree branches were carved into its surface, seeming to shift and move in the blue light.

"A ring?" Harry asked skeptically. "What's it do?"

"Think of it as a means of communication," Melina explained. "Should you ever need my assistance, or should you decide to learn more about your role in what is to come, simply focus your thoughts on the ring. I will appear."

Harry hesitated, then reached out and took the ring. It was surprisingly warm to the touch, and he could feel a faint pulse of magic emanating from it. 

"Should you notice anything unusual - beyond the usual unusualness of your world - do not hesitate to call upon me."

"And how exactly am I supposed to tell the difference between regular magical weirdness and Outer God weirdness?"

"Trust your instincts," Melina advised. "They have served you well thus far, have they not?"

Harry thought about all the times his gut feelings had saved his life. "Fair point. But I still think you're being deliberately cryptic about all this."

"Would you believe me if I told you everything at once?" Melina asked, a knowing look in her eye.

"Probably not," Harry admitted. "I'd think I'd gone mad. Well, madder than usual."

"Then perhaps my cryptic nature serves a purpose after all," Melina said, with what Harry could have sworn was a touch of smugness in her voice.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Harry accused. "All this mysterious messenger stuff?"

"I neither confirm nor deny finding any amusement in our conversations," Melina replied, but her slight smile betrayed her.

"Right," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "Well, at least you're more straightforward than Professor Trelawney. Though that's not saying much."

"I do not know this Trelawney," Melina said, "but I suspect I would find her predictions... interesting."

"That's one word for them," Harry snorted. "Just wait until you hear about my apparently imminent death by various increasingly ridiculous means."

For a moment there was only silence, until Harry decided to ask her something else. "And if I decide not to get involved?"

"Then the ring remains a gift, nothing more," Melina said. "Though I suspect, Chosen Tarnished, that you will find it difficult to ignore the call when it comes. It is not in your nature to turn away from those in need."

"Been reading the Daily Prophet, have you?" Harry asked dryly.

Another small smile graced Melina's features. "I know more about you than you might think, Chosen Tarnished. Your courage, your determination, your willingness to fight for what is right - these qualities are precisely why you were chosen."

"Brilliant," Harry muttered. "Just what I needed - another prophecy or destiny or whatever this is."

"I understand your reluctance," Melina said softly. "You have already carried burdens that no young person should have to bear. But consider this: perhaps it is not chance that brought us together. Perhaps there is a reason why you, of all people, were chosen."

"Yeah, my luck is rubbish," Harry said, but there was a hint of humor in his voice.

Melina's eye sparkled with amusement. "Your ability to find humor in dark situations will serve you well in the Lands Between, should you choose to come."

"If I do decide to help," Harry said slowly, turning the ring over in his hands, "what exactly would I be getting into?"

"That is a tale for another time," Melina replied, already beginning to fade into blue particles of light. "For now, rest. Consider what I have said. And remember, you need only call through the ring, and I will answer."

"You're enjoying being all mysterious and cryptic, aren't you?" Harry accused, watching as she began to disappear.

The last thing he saw before she vanished completely was her smile, wider this time. "Perhaps a little," her voice echoed in the room.

As the blue light faded, Harry was left alone with the golden ring and about a thousand new questions. He studied the ring more closely in the dim light of his bedroom, watching as the carved branches seemed to shift and move of their own accord.

"Mental," he muttered, but slipped the ring onto his finger anyway. "Absolutely mental. What am I getting myself into now?"

The ring fit perfectly, as if it had been made specifically for him. It was lighter than he expected, and despite its magical nature, it felt... right, somehow. Like it belonged there.

"Chosen Tarnished," Harry said to his empty room, testing the words. "Well, it's not the worst title I've been given. Better than 'the Boy Who Lived' at least. Though I suppose 'the Boy Who Got Dragged Into Yet Another Magical Adventure' might be more accurate."

He flopped back onto his bed, holding his hand up to examine the ring in the moonlight streaming through his window. "Wonder what Ron and Hermione would make of all this? Hermione would probably want to research everything about the Lands Between, and Ron would think I've gone completely barmy."

Harry groaned. "Brilliant. Just brilliant. At least this Melina seems nicer than most of the mysterious figures who show up in my life. Usually they're trying to kill me, not give me jewelry."

Later

An hour had passed since Melina's departure, yet he couldn't stop staring at her peculiar gift. There was something about it that demanded attention, like a whisper in the wind.

"At least it's pretty," he muttered to himself. "Better than most of the magical objects that find their way to me. Usually they're trying to kill me or possess me or both."

The ring emanated a strange sensation, one that reminded him uncomfortably of Tom Riddle's diary. But where the diary had felt cold and somehow wrong, this ring radiated warmth and... something else. Something that felt right.

He let out a heavy sigh, his mind wandering through the chaotic events of his past three years at Hogwarts. "First year, I get Professor Quirrell - sorry, Professor Voldemort-Stuck-To-The-Back-Of-His-Head. Because apparently regular teachers aren't exciting enough."

Rolling onto his side, Harry continued his mental inventory of misfortunes. "Second year brings a giant murder-snake living in the pipes. Because why not? Oh, and let's throw in a teenage Dark Lord's diary for good measure. Fantastic."

He snorted. "Then third year... brilliant third year. Spent months thinking my godfather was trying to murder me, only to find out he's actually innocent and wants to give me a proper home. But wait! Plot twist - Ron's rat is actually a grown man who betrayed my parents."

Harry sat up again, running a hand through his perpetually messy hair. "And now this. Some mysterious woman appears in my room, tells me I'm some sort of 'Chosen Tarnished' - whatever that means - and warns me about outer gods trying to influence our world. Because apparently, one Dark Lord isn't enough of a challenge."

He glanced at Hedwig's empty cage. "Really wish Hermione was here right now. She'd probably have read fifteen books about outer gods by morning. Probably tell me I'm pronouncing 'Erdtree' wrong too."

Harry yawned, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling over him. "Maybe I'll wake up tomorrow and this will all have been some weird dream. Maybe Dudley's diet is making me hallucinate." He chuckled weakly at his own joke. "Though I doubt even my imagination could come up with someone as cryptic as Melina."

As he laid back down, pulling the thin summer blanket over himself, Harry couldn't shake the feeling that something significant had changed. It wasn't just the ring on his finger or Melina's warnings - it was something deeper, as if the world had shifted slightly on its axis.

"Just once," he mumbled as his eyes grew heavy, "I'd like to have a normal year. No monsters, no dark lords, no outer gods. Just regular wizard stuff. Is that too much to ask?"

The last thing Harry saw before his eyes closed was the soft golden glow of the ring. It pulsed gently, like a heartbeat, as if responding to his thoughts.

Then darkness took him, but only for a moment.

When Harry's eyes opened again, he wasn't in his bedroom at Privet Drive. The familiar walls and ceiling were gone, replaced by an endless golden sky that seemed to shimmer and flow like liquid light. He sat up quickly, his heart racing, and found himself in the midst of a vast field of swaying grass.

Around him, the ruins of what must have been a town were all around him. Ancient stone buildings, some still standing while others had crumbled and one could hardly tell they were supposed to be houses for people a long time ago. Vegetation had reclaimed much of the area, with vines and flowers growing through cracks in the weathered stone.

"Brilliant," Harry said to the empty air, his voice carrying a mix of awe and resignation. "Just brilliant. Can't even have a normal night's sleep anymore."

He stood up, brushing grass off his pajamas and noting with some relief that he still had his wand in his pocket and the ring on his finger. Both items seemed to hum with energy in this strange place, as if they were more alive here than in the normal world.

"Well," he said, taking in the otherworldly scene before him, "I suppose this is what I get for putting on mysterious magical jewelry right before bed. Hermione would definitely have something to say about that." He paused, considering. "Actually, Ron would too, probably something about how his dad deals with cursed rings at work all the time."

In the distance, something massive seemed to reach toward the heavens, but it was too far away to make out clearly.

"Right then," Harry said, gripping his wand tighter. "Either this is a very elaborate dream, or I've somehow been transported to the place Melina said...what was it...or right...the Lands Between. Given my luck, probably the latter." He took a deep breath. "Suppose I should look around. After all, what's the worst that could happen?"

He immediately regretted those words, remembering all too well what usually happened when he tempted fate like that. "Note to self: stop asking questions like that. It never ends well."

Harry moved cautiously through the ruins, his initial urge to make light of the situation fading with each step. The hill stretched before him, dotted with the remnants of what must have been a thriving settlement. Stone walls stood like broken teeth against the golden sky.

The silence was absolute. No birds, no insects, not even the whisper of wind through grass. It was the kind of silence that spoke of abandonment, of things long past and better forgotten.

As he climbed higher, the ring on his finger began to pulse rhythmically, like a heartbeat. The sensation was impossible to ignore, growing stronger with each step upward.

"Melina?" Harry called out, his voice echoing strangely in the dead air. "Are you there?"

Only silence answered him.

The higher he climbed, the more evidence he saw of ancient violence. Deep gouges marked the stone walls, too precise to be natural weathering. Scorch marks stained the ground in patterns that spoke of magical warfare, different from any spells he knew but unmistakably the result of combat.

Harry reached a massive gate, or what remained of one. The stone archway still stood, but the gates themselves lay scattered in pieces, twisted and broken as if torn apart by giant hands. Beyond the gate, the true extent of the devastation became clear.

This had been a battlefield.

Harry's grip tightened on his wand as he moved through the gate, all traces of humor gone from his face. The ground was scarred with deep furrows, and fragments of ancient weapons lay half-buried in the soil. Even after what must have been centuries, the evidence of conflict remained, preserved in this timeless place.

The space beyond opened into a vast field bathed in golden light. Rays of sunshine pierced through the strange sky, illuminating the area like spotlights from heaven. A few ruined houses stood at irregular intervals, their walls barely reaching knee height now, more suggestion than structure.

But it was what stood in the center of the field that caught and held Harry's attention.

A small tree, no taller than he was, glittered as if made of pure gold. Its branches reached upward like supplicating hands, each leaf seemed made of gold. The sight of it stirred something in Harry's memory - something Melina had said about an Erdtree.

The ring's pulsing grew stronger, more insistent, as if urging him forward. Each beat seemed to synchronize with his own heartbeat, creating a strange resonance that hummed through his entire body.

"What is this place?" Harry whispered, the words barely audible even to himself as he approached the golden sapling.

The closer he got to the tree, the more it seemed to react to his presence. The golden leaves trembled without wind, and the light emanating from it intensified. When he was just a few feet away, he could feel its power - different from any magic he'd encountered before, ancient and profound.

Almost in a trance, Harry reached out toward the trunk of the small tree. The moment his fingers made contact with the golden bark, warmth flooded through him, impossibly strong yet somehow familiar. It reminded him of Phoenix song, of his mother's protection, of every good and pure thing he'd ever known.

Then darkness crashed down like a curtain.

In the void, three enormous fingers appeared, larger than buildings, radiating power that made Harry's very soul tremble. They moved, with intelligence, examining him as if he were an interesting insect.

A voice that wasn't a voice, felt rather than heard, thundered through his consciousness:

WHO ARE YOU, CHILD OF ANOTHER WORLD?

The question seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, demanding an answer that went deeper than mere names. 

Before Harry could respond, before he could even form a coherent thought, the fingers withdrew. The darkness receded like a tide.

Harry's eyes snapped open to find himself back in his bed at Privet Drive, his heart racing and his body covered in cold sweat. The first light of dawn was just beginning to creep through his window.

For a long moment, he lay perfectly still, trying to process what he had experienced. The ring on his finger was warm to the touch, and when he looked at it in the grey morning light, the carved branches seemed more defined than before, as if they had somehow become more real.

He sat up slowly, his mind racing with questions. That hadn't been a normal dream - he was certain of that. The sensations had been too vivid, the details too precise. The battlefield, the golden tree, those enormous fingers...

Harry looked down at his hand where he had touched the tree. He could just make out a faint golden shimmer on his skin, like dust from butterfly wings, already fading.

Whatever had just happened, whatever he had just encountered, Harry knew with absolute certainty that it was only the beginning. The question those fingers had asked still echoed in his mind: Who are you, child of another world?

Later

Harry spent most of the day in a daze, his mind repeatedly returning to the strange vision of the battlefield and the golden tree. The Dursleys, thankfully, seemed content to ignore him as usual, which suited him perfectly. He wasn't in any state to deal with their particular brand of unpleasantness.

When Hedwig finally swooped through his window in the late afternoon, Harry felt a surge of relief at the sight of his companion. "Thanks, girl," he murmured, taking the letter from her leg and offering her an owl treat.

He recognized Hermione's neat handwriting immediately:

Dear Harry,

I hope you're doing well. I must say, your last letter confused me quite a bit. I've never heard of a 'Healing Erdtree' spell before, and I've been through most of the standard healing texts in preparation for next year. Where did you come across this information? Which book mentioned it? It sounds fascinating, but I can't find any reference to it anywhere.

Please write back soon and let me know more details. You know how I hate not being able to find information about something!

Love,

Hermione

Harry folded the letter carefully, feeling the weight of his predicament. How exactly was he supposed to explain this? 'Dear Hermione, a mysterious woman named Melina appeared in my room, gave me a magical ring, and then I had a vision of a golden tree and giant fingers asking who I was'?

He could almost hear her response - a mixture of concern and skepticism, followed by a lecture about the dangers of unknown magical artifacts and the importance of reporting strange occurrences to Professor Dumbledore.

"She's not wrong," he muttered to himself. "This isn't exactly normal, even by wizard standards."

After several attempts at writing a response, Harry set aside his quill. He needed to talk to Melina first. She was the only one who might be able to explain what had happened in that strange place, why he had been transported there, and what those enormous fingers had wanted from him.

As night fell and the Dursleys' snores echoed through the house, Harry sat on his bed, wide awake. He studied the ring intently, hoping Melina would appear as she had the previous night.

Hours passed with no sign of her.

Then, without warning, the ring began to glitter with golden light. The glow lasted for five seconds before fading back to normal, leaving Harry even more confused than before.

"What was that about?" he wondered aloud.

The answer came in the form of a sudden, bone-deep cold that made his previous encounters with Dementors feel like a mild chill. This was different - an ancient, malevolent cold that seemed to reach for his very soul.

Harry whirled around just in time to see a dark blade with a red gleam slicing through the air toward him. Pure instinct made him raise his hand, and the ring responded with a blast of golden light that threw his attacker against the wall.

The impact should have made a thunderous noise, but somehow it was completely silent. Harry stared at the figure now crouched against his bedroom wall - a human-shaped form in a dark hoodie, but where its face should have been, there was only shadow. In its hand, the red-tinged blade seemed to drink in what little light there was in the room.

Harry's wand was on his bedside table, just out of reach. The figure seemed to notice his glance toward it, its head tilting in an unnaturally smooth motion.

The cold intensified, and Harry could see his breath misting in the air. This was wrong - all wrong. The being before him radiated a type of darkness he'd never encountered before, different from anything in his world. Even Voldemort, for all his evil, had never emanated this sort of otherworldly wrongness.

The figure moved with impossible speed, the blade flashing toward Harry again. The ring pulsed once more, creating a barrier of golden light that the dark blade scraped against with a sound like screaming metal.

"What are you?" Harry demanded, his voice steady despite his racing heart.

The figure didn't respond, but its head tilted again, as if considering him. The empty hood faced him, and Harry had the distinct impression that something was studying him from within that darkness, something ancient and hungry.

The temperature dropped even further, frost beginning to form on his window. The figure raised its free hand, and shadows seemed to coalesce around it, forming shapes that hurt Harry's eyes to look at directly.

The ring on his finger grew almost painfully hot, and Harry felt a surge of power flow through him - similar to what he'd experienced when touching the golden tree in his vision, but more focused, more urgent.

Without conscious thought, Harry found himself speaking words he didn't understand, but they felt right, felt powerful. Golden light erupted from the ring, filling the room with radiance that seemed to push back against the darkness.

The hooded figure recoiled, its movements jerky and unnatural. For a moment, it stood perfectly still, the dark blade trembling in its grip. Then, with a motion like falling smoke, it simply ceased to be, leaving behind only a lingering chill and the faint smell of something burning.

Harry stood frozen for several seconds, his heart pounding, the ring still warm on his finger. Whatever that thing had been, he was certain it hadn't been destroyed - merely driven away.

The silence in the room felt oppressive. Harry could hear the Dursleys still snoring, completely unaware of what had just transpired. How had they not heard anything? How had the figure made no sound when it hit the wall?

Harry picked up his wand, gripping it tightly. He had a feeling he wouldn't be sleeping tonight. Whatever that thing had been, it might come back, and next time he needed to be ready.

One thing was certain - he couldn't keep this to himself much longer. Whether it was Hermione, Dumbledore, or someone else, he needed help. Because if beings like that were finding their way into his world, then Melina's warnings about Outer Gods and their influence were more urgent than he'd initially realized.

If you want to Read 8 More Chapters Right Now. Write 'www.patreon.com/AMagicWriter40' in the Websearch.