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A Bend in Time

Before there ever was a boy that ever lived in a cupboard on Four Privet Drive, there was a similar boy in a far worse home that lived on Spinner’s End. We all know the tale of that abused boy who grew up to become a bitter spy. But not all tales end the same for in the many parallel worlds that exist in the universe there are far better endings, and equally as many worse ones. This is a tale of one such condemned universe that for better or for worse chooses to change its own fate at through the sacrifice of the bitter spy. (All rights to the Harry Potter world and characters belong solely to J. K. Rowling. However, I do claim creative fanfiction rights. Please do not post my fanfiction elsewhere without my express permission. This work will also be partially hosted at RoyalRoad, Wattpadd, and Archive.)

EsliEsma · Book&Literature
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1193 Chs

A possible visitor or two? Ⅴ

Leaning forward Vaibhav Marwah closes his eyes with nostrils flaring as he took in the rich scent. "Ahh, it smells of Mumbai," he mumbled recalling the scents of home. The people of the Isles were kind and loud in their own manner, but it was not Mumbai.

The toffee-calloused hands reached for the teacup and raised it close to his lips. Vaibhav Marwah deeply breathes the scent in, before taking a sip. "Ahh, yes, it tastes of home. It is as though I were back in Mumbai."

A genuine smile spread across the elder wizard's lined face. "Thank you for allowing me to experience a taste of home," Vaibhav Marwah graciously showed his sincere gratitude to his hosts as he clasped his hands together and bowed to them.

"Of course," Georgine proudly tilted her chin in response, before taking a sip of the tea. She was rather pleased with the taste and made a note to have Dawn add the recipe to her permanent repertoire. She grabbed an egg and cress sandwich to accompany the delightfully enjoyable tea.

With tea being thoroughly enjoyed by her master, Shesha leans over to sniff the tea. She wrinkles her nose at the scent and instead makes herself comfortable. She drapes herself comfortably over her master's shoulders and rests her head on top of his pagri (turban). Her black tongue occasionally flicks the air tasting it.

"Has your serpent been with you long?" Rowan asked in English.

"Shesha," Vaibhav Marwah reached up to stroke the scales on his shoulder. "Shesha has been with me since she was an egg. She is my familiar," he responded in an accented English.

"Shesha is a cobra is she not?"

"That is right."

"She seems to be very affectionate," Georgine drily interjected as she carefully observed the serpent out of the corner of her eyes.

"Too much, I would say," Vaibhav Marwah chuckled in good-natured humor.

Setting her porcelain teacup upon the tea saucer, Rowan decides to speak in parseltongue. "I am not certain what to call you venerable snake speaker, but I was taught to respect my elders."

"Ji Marwah if you so desire, young serpent speaker," Vaibhav Marwah steadfastly answered in parseltongue before taking a sip of the masala chai. "And what may I call you?" He asked as he also set his teacup down on the saucer.

"My name is Rowan Prince, but you may call me Rowan if you wish, Ji Marwah."

"Rowan, it is," Vaibhav Marwah agreed without protest.

"Is there a reason for your request to meet, Ji Marwah?"

"I have only met one other snake speaker in my life," Vaibhav Marwah recounted with a nostalgic expression, "-my grandfather. My grandfather passed away many years ago and since then I have not spoken to another with the gift. A blessing and a curse as none of my children or grandchildren have inherited the gift."

A wide child-like grin appeared on Vaibhav Marwah's face. "I must admit I was curious to meet the second snake speaker I have ever come across in such a distant land."

Some of Rowan's initial wariness and reservations are appeased by the elder parselmouth's words. "I see. Then I am glad that is the case."

Reaching into his satchel, Vaibhav Marwah pulls out a rolled-up piece of linen and a velvet string bag. Moving the teacup out of the way, he spreads the linen on the table. With care, he poured out the contents of the small velvet pouch onto the table. There are several carved talismans and amulets made from Shungite. There is a silver round circle pendant delicately carved from shungite stone with a shungite pyramid delicately engraved in geometric symbols (a form of runescript).

Seeing Rowan's gaze on the round pendant, Vaibhav Marwah with one gnarled finger pushes the pendant across the table to her. "The pendant is a gift. It will protect you well youngling."

With a sincere expression, Rowan accepts the pendant and holds it up in her palm to better study it. She briefly glances at her aunt to make sure it is safe, before studying it in depth. Georgine subtly blinks at her great-niece's response and takes a sip of her tea. It was nothing Georgine hadn't witnessed in her travels to the Orient in her youth.

Relieved, Rowan studies the pendant round pendant engraved with complex geometric symbols and the shungite pyramid.

"Magic in my homeland is a form of reverence, a chant, a mantra, unlike the West. Many mantras are found in the Atharva Veda (also known as the Trayi-Veda)," Vaibhav Marwah explained as he carefully gathered the pendants and talismans leaving only six pendants behind.

"All Tantras and Agamas contain magic," Vaibhav Marwah explained. "Even in my homeland, there are those who see magic as good and evil, light and dark. Yet the tantric teachings exist for all."

"Cobras are both loved and feared in my land for their power," Vaibhav Marwah reached up to gently pull Shesha down into his arms. "A serpent cannot change its nature, but that does not mean it does not house good. A mother cobra is the only serpent that protects her young in the nest to the very death."

"Power is not to be feared," Vaibhav Marwah clearly said as he allowed Shesha to coil around his arm. "For it is the adept who chooses how to forge their path with the gifts they have been granted."

"In my land, the shat-karma is the 6 rites to accomplish magic," Vaibhav Marwah gestured to the first talisman made of onyx and platinum. "Vashikarnam," he pointed his finger at the pendant which began to twist and turn transforming into a beautiful black flower.

"Manipulation," Rowan murmured earning a nod from the elder parselmouth.

A small delicate jade flower talisman is engraved with gold. "Videshana," the flower petals turn sharp and jagged fiercely pointing at each other.

"Conflict," Rowan concluded as the shards viciously attacked each other until one of them won leaving the other in shattered pieces, "to attain victory over another (the enemy)."

"Mohana," Vaibhav Marwah murmured as a square amethyst pendant lined with rose gold changed into a statue of a bewitching woman.

"Seduction," Rowan guessed, "an illusion to delude the mind and heart."

"Uccatana," A pointed aquamarine pendant lined with white gold splits into two. One side transformed into a spear-like force darting to pierce and destroy the solid portion of the pendant.

"Ruination," Rowan pensively presumed as she studied the destroyed pendant. "To achieve victory or attain a goal at the cost of another."

There are two pieces remaining on the table. After a moment, Vaibhav Marwah points to the topaz talisman lined in silver. "Stambhanam," he said as the talisman remains in place as if protected.

"Immobilization," Rowan swiftly deduced and furrowed her brow in thought. "To prevent another from achieving success or prosperity."

The last item is a deep red garnet pendant lined with yellow gold. "Maranam," Vaibhav Marwah whispered as the pendant transformed into a dagger.

"Death, (the Homicide) of another," Rowan quietly concluded.

"Maranam is only ever used by an adept to kill or rather halt the path of those who have fallen astray," Vaibhav Marwah solemnly said as old sorrow crossed his face. "However, there are always those who twist that which is sacred and use the rites for themselves. For a time, they will hold great power, but the heavens will always seek to right itself. The balance must be kept. Their Karama will come due."

 "The power of the six rites is neither good nor evil," Rowan mused out loud. "Uccatana, can halt a goal or obtain victory. If wielded to attain or gain victory over another at the cost of another is neither good nor evil. Rather the intent is to prevent a terrible plot or another from doing harm, it is good. Yet in that same breath, if it is out of selfishness or greed, it would be evil."

"The wizards of the West tend to see magic as light or dark or good or evil," Vaibhav Marwah wisely explained. "Yet magic is neither, it simply is. It is the adept who uses the power gifted to them and determines their karmic effect."

Pensively Rowan leans back into her seat. It would seem that she had fallen into that kind of mindset. Her wand, though powerful and predisposed, is still only a wand. Rather the one with internal failings is her, which permitted her wand to use her weakness against herself. However, even with her newly gained knowledge she could not fully set aside her distrust of her wand. The tale of the Three Brothers was too firmly imprinted into her mind.

Apologies if I Hollywoodized the Atharva Veda (also known as the Trayi-Veda or shat-karma). I did my best to be respectful considering my limited understanding.

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