Harry Potter and the Rising War
***
Chapter 1: Dumbledore's Revelation
In his lonely room at number four Privet Drive sat a boy at a
desk. The boy looked to be 16; he had shoulder-length jet black hair that
framed his well defined face and covered his lightning bolt shaped scar; he had
the beginnings of a beard, and he had intensely bright emerald-green eyes. The
scar on his forehead was the source of his problems – after, of course, the one
who put it there: Voldemort.
When Harry got home from the long (and unusually quiet due to Mad-Eye Moody's
warning) drive back from Kings Cross Station, he went straight up to his room
and locked himself in there. The mourning process had begun. Just a few
weeks ago, Harry's closest link to a family had been taken away from him:
Sirius Black was killed. And he blamed himself. Sure, he wasn't the
one who had sent the curse at him; he wasn't the one who had lied to get him
there – but he had placed himself in danger and Sirius responded to it, which ended
in his life being taken away from him.
'Why? Why was I so stupid, Hedwig?' Harry asked, as he placed the owl's
cage on top of his wardrobe. As if in reply, Hedwig gave a soft, sad
hoot.
'I should have used the mirror! I should have stuck it out with the occlumency lessons. I should have let the Order
handle things,' Harry said exasperatedly to himself.
'Sirius died because of my stupidity,' Harry thought to himself as he put his
head in his hands and sighed. 'Why me? All I ever wanted was to be
normal, but now with this prophecy hanging over my head I'll be even further
from it.' Harry sat there lost in thought for what felt like hours, just
thinking and drowning in his own self-pity and guilt, until his aunt disrupted
him from his thoughts.
'Dinner is ready! If you're not down in two minutes, then we will let Dudley have it,' she said
through the door.
'Well, that must mean that I'll have something respectable to eat, if she's
threatening that Dudley will have it!' Harry thought to himself as
he got up from his bed and went down to the kitchen to have a surprisingly
normal-looking portion of food.
Things went on rather the same for Harry for the next few days. He would
get up at whatever time he felt like – if he hadn't already been woken from his
nightmares or from seeing snippets of what Voldemort was doing – then he would
go and take a shower before getting some breakfast. The rest of the day
was spent either thinking, or blaming himself for all of the death he had
caused and thinking of Sirius. That is, except for every third day, when
he would send an owl to the order. On the seventh day, however, his
routine was broken as a brown, pompous-looking tawny owl arrived. Harry had no
clue as to who it was from, so he carefully untied its note, and examined it
for any tampering; looking for what he didn't know, because if it had been
magically tampered with, he lacked the experience to judge.
The note seemed okay, so Harry opened it and began to read, but he couldn't get
past the opening sentence. His eyes watered and a lump had risen in his
throat. The first sentence read:
'Last Will and Testament of Sirius Orion Black.'
Harry couldn't bring himself to read any further. If he did then that
would be it: it would all be over with, and Sirius would be gone forever.
Harry sat looking at the piece of parchment for hours, but not really seeing
it; he was just thinking how unnecessary this was, were it not for his
stupidity. He was in such deep thought that he didn't even hear when the
door was knocked, or when his uncle shouted at someone, or when Dudley let out a rather
loud whimper.
'Ah, I was wondering if you might have any difficulty reading that letter,'
said an ancient voice that succeeded in disrupting Harry's chain of
thoughts. He whirled around quickly, reaching for his wand from the desk
that he was sitting at, to come face to face with the headmaster of Hogwarts
School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Albus Dumbledore. Harry sighed with
relief and put his wand away, which Dumbledore chuckled at.
'Professor, what are you doing here?' Harry asked, after getting over the
initial shock of seeing the esteemed headmaster in his room, and then getting
over the embarrassment when he remembered what had happened at the end of the
last school year in the headmaster's office when he lost his
temper. (He had been so angry at the old man that he had thrown objects
around and broken them; but that wasn't the worse thing: the headmaster had
cried over Harry's treatment and burden, which really made him feel even worse
later.)
'Well I had a few things to discuss with you, and I wanted to see how you were
coping. I was informed of the will being sent out today, and thought it
may be a very hard time for you now,' he replied with a sad tone. 'Have
you read any of it yet, Harry?' Dumbledore asked him.
'Only the first sentence,' Harry answered honestly. 'If I read any more
then it will be final, and I will have to accept that there is no way back, he
is truly gone,' Harry said, with tears brimming from his eyes; then he added as
an afterthought, 'And it's all my fault.'
'Harry, there is no point in playing the "blame game," as muggles call
it. Everyone could have a go and accept equal parts of the blame: me for
withholding information from you and ignoring you for a whole year; Professor
Snape for discontinuing your Occlumency lessons;
Remus Lupin for not stopping Sirius from helping the rescue; your friends for
not stopping you – it could go on forever,' Dumbledore said. 'He died for
a good cause, for the right cause, and doing the thing he loved: looking out
for his godson,' the professor said, finishing barely above a whisper.
Harry sighed. He knew Dumbledore was right, and now it was time to face
the facts. He nodded to Dumbledore, who seemed to understand, and smiled
back at him – with a smile he had missed since the headmaster had avoided him
all last year, a smile that made Harry look to Dumbledore not as a great
leader, or a powerful wizard, or even a professor, but as family, like a grandfather.
He looked down at the letter and took a deep breath before reading:
'Last Will and Testament of Sirius Orion Black.
'I, Sirius Orion Black, being of sound mind and body, hereby do name
Harry James Potter, of the most ancient and noble line of Potter,' (Harry
chuckled at this despite the tears,) 'as the heir of the most ancient and noble
line of Black. In accordance with Wizarding Law, Harry James Potter will
receive full ownership of the Black family vaults when he is of legal wizarding
age – excluding vault number 723, whose ownership rights will be received by
one Remus J. Lupin. The property at the allotted space in 12 Grimmauld Place, and all contents
therein, will be received by one Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, to
use as he sees fit. The aforementioned Heir of the Black family will also
receive all contents held within the storage space within the UK branch of Gringotts Wizarding Bank in Diagon Alley. So it has
been Written; so shall it be Done.'
Harry chuckled again after finishing reading the will; trust Sirius to be
over-dramatic, even in his death! He scanned the will again before
noticing that there was another piece of parchment underneath it.
Curious, Harry looked up to Dumbledore to see if this was a common occurrence
with wizarding wills, and judging from the twinkle in his eyes Harry guessed
that it wasn't. But he had expected something like this, so Harry took
the second parchment and began reading it. It was a letter from Sirius.
'Dear Harry,
'If you are reading this letter now,
it means two things: I'm dead, and the war is still raging on. And if the
war is raging on, then chances are that I died in service with the Order; and
knowing you like I do, then you're probably finding a way to blame yourself for
my death. But I want you to know that however I died, it was not your
fault; and that I died with you in mind, because ultimately I was fighting for
you, to take revenge on the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord for the life that
they prevented you from having. I can assure you that if I died in a
battle, then I died doing what I loved, and that is what truly matters.
'Now enough about death! I think it's far too over-rated. In the
words of a great man and an even better friend, 'Death is only the next great
adventure.' Now on to the good bits.
'I was planning on giving you this on your seventeenth birthday, but obviously
I can't. But inside my private vault you will find a deed to a plot of
land. It's yours, or more specifically it belongs to 'the most ancient
and noble line of Potters.' That's right, you guessed it, the deed is for
where your childhood home was, Godric's Hollow.
'Secondly, I want you to know, even if I never did get the courage to say it to
you: I love you, Harry. From the day you were born, I couldn't get enough
of you. I was amazed that James and Lily could make something so
perfect. I know I haven't been around for long, but even if I didn't know
you, all I would need to know is that you are the son of Lily and James Potter
to know that you are a great wizard, and an even better person, and also a
prankster and rule-breaker at heart.
'This brings me to the next order of business: in the same vault as the deeds,
you will find a few books that the Marauders compiled (with some of the more
ingenious spells and potions and such, like the animagus transformation).
I was hoping to show you myself one day, but it seems time caught up with me.
'To bring this letter to a close, I ask of you two things to honour the dead:
the first is to make sure that you live your life, have a little fun, and try
and act your age for once. I know it may be a little hard given the
circumstances, but try. The second is not to mourn my death, but rather
to celebrate my life.
'With much love forever and more,
'Sirius Black.'
After Harry had finished the letter he sat in thought, letting what Sirius told
him roll around in his mind. 'Not your fault,' 'don't mourn my death,
celebrate my life.' It took the clearing of a throat for Harry to
remember that Dumbledore was still in the room. Harry looked to
Dumbledore to see him smiling his grandfatherly smile again, with that twinkle
in his eyes also. But something else was there too; what was that, was it
pride? Was there pride in the old headmaster's eyes for Harry?
'Was it as bad as you thought, Harry?' the old man asked softly.
'No, it actually helped a lot; I don't think there is anything that can be said
that will take away all of the guilt – but I do feel ...' Harry began to reply
but stopped. He didn't quite know how to put into words how he felt, but
he did know he felt better and more accepting of the fact that Sirius wasn't
going to be coming back. Dumbledore seemed to understand what he meant,
because he simply nodded his understanding.
It was then that Harry realised that the professor had come here to discuss a
few things with Harry, and when he mentioned this to the old headmaster he
chuckled and replied, 'Ah yes, I do tend to stray off topic every now and then;
though I do believe this is the first time I have strayed off topic before I
even got onto it!' He smiled at Harry and then began talking once more.
'The first thing I am going to discuss with you may be not only a little
embarrassing for you, but also a little shocking, so please just bear with
me. It is very important, and a little difficult to understand,'
Dumbledore began with amusement written all over his face.
'This can't be good,' Harry thought to himself. 'If Dumbledore is
amused by this, then that means it will be VERY embarrassing for me.'
'Okay, professor. So what is it?' Harry prompted when the headmaster
wouldn't continue.
'Harry, do you know about sorcerers?' Dumbledore asked.
Whatever Harry had been expecting, this most certainly wasn't it. It
didn't seem embarrassing at all, but then again Dumbledore was a strange man,
so this could lead to anything.
'No, all I know is that you are one, and so is Voldemort,' Harry replied.
'That's correct – though Voldemort acquired the level of sorcery from transformations,
whereas I grew into mine. Answer me please, Harry: have you ever wondered
why you seem to be the only one in your year and possibly the year below you
who haven't started to mature, to go through puberty?' Dumbledore said.
So this was what he was building up to. 'Well, he was wrong about me being a
little embarrassed, ha... I'm COMPLETELY embarrassed!' Harry thought.
Obviously Harry was turning red now, because Dumbledore chuckled at him again.
'W-well, I was beginning to w-wonder, b-but... I never had the courage to say
anything about it. Ron has asked me a few times, in his own way, but I
was too much of a coward. So much for Gryffindor Courage,' Harry
stuttered and mumbled whilst looking at the floor, trying to hide his blush. 'Where
is this going, anyway?' Harry asked, thinking that he might try to speed things
up to get out of this situation fast.
'I will tell you in a moment; but first I would like to point out that I myself
did not experience puberty until the age of 16, in fact not until my 16th
birthday,' said Dumbledore. Harry was shocked by this announcement, but
what shocked him the most was that he seemed to be proud of the fact.
Dumbledore waited a few moments then began talking again, but this time it
seemed that he was talking more to himself than to Harry.
'Ah yes, 16, that was a good year for me! I had my first bag of lemon
drops; of course, back then they tasted more of natural lemon; what I wouldn't
give to taste them again! Best lemon drops I've ever had; shame I only got
one bag,' Dumbledore was saying. It took Harry three tries of calling his
name before bringing the professor back to the present day. 'Oh, very
sorry Harry; like I said, I tend to go off subject sometimes,' he
chuckled. 'Now where were we?' Dumbledore asked.
'I think you were about to explain what me being so slow to – erm – to – you
know,' Harry finished feebly.
'Go through puberty?' Dumbledore asked with the twinkle in his eyes.
'The old coot's enjoying seeing me embarrassed!' Harry thought.
'Yeah, that's it,' Harry answered with more confidence, hoping to stop
Dumbledore finding the whole scene amusing.
'Well you see, Harry, as a wizard or witch begins puberty, their magic grows
with them, so you could say they have a magical growth spurt. You,
however, (and myself when I was your age,) have a higher capacity for magic
than most wizard folk. Which means that as you go through the years, the
magic growth spurt does not happen, because you have a higher limit for the
amount of magic you possess – so your body aims to fill it, which ultimately
means your body will not need to change as your magic grows to make more room
for the growing magic. Do you understand so far?' Dumbledore asked.
'I think so. So what's happening to me is like what happens if a witch or
wizard exhausted too much of their magic, their body has to replenish the magic
used?' Harry replied.
Dumbledore smiled and then answered 'Correct, Harry, except you are not
replenishing it, but building it up.'
'So I won't go through puberty then? I'll look like a slightly large
11-year-old forever?' Harry asked worriedly.
Dumbledore chuckled again before he answered, 'No, Harry, you will not look
like an overgrown 11-year-old for the rest of your life; as you can see, I
don't look like an 11-year-old, and Voldemort most certainly does not.
Once your limit has been reached, then you will experience puberty; and for
some unknown reason the body always aims to fill the required amount of magical
room by the 16th birthday, which is very intriguing. You will not grow
over time, however, it will only be one night; or more precisely, at 16 years
after the moment you were born,' the professor explained.
'So what will happen to me then? Will I look normal?' Harry asked.
'I won't lie to you, Harry. The transformation hurts, a lot; but it is
something that you must endure, I'm afraid; there is no stopping it. It
lasts for only a couple of hours, but once it is finished you will look however
your body needs to, to sustain the amount of magic that you will have. At
this time I don't know how much it will be. It could be a little more
than you have already, or it could be a lot more; only time will tell,'
Dumbledore said.
'But if the magic has been growing inside of me for so long, and by my 16th
birthday it will reach its limit, why will it need to change my body if it is
already handling that amount of magic?' Harry asked.
'The magic that you have at the moment has a specific use. You see, it
takes a great deal of magic to change the body as drastically as it will, and
the normal process for this doesn't have enough time or magic at hand to do it
this way. Your magic growth speed has been the same as any other wizard
or witch your age; except when you get closer to your birthday, the speed in
which it grows will increase, which will result in you feeling more
energetic. Once you transform, you will have a bigger limit as to the
amount of magic to fill and at your disposal. The magic you have in you
now, in truth, is what most fully-matured wizards will have when they are
around 60,' Dumbledore answered.
'So let me get this straight: I haven't gone through puberty yet because my
magic has been holding it back, so that it can model my body to the way it
needs when it reaches its limit and knows how much more room it will need; so
when I become 16 at the exact second I was born, my body will painfully change
to my magic's wish, so it will be able to hold more magic?' Harry asked in a
tone that suggested he wanted nothing of the sort to happen.
'That's right, which means that you are a sorcerer, just like me. But I
wasn't quite sure at first, which is why I'm telling you this so close to your
transformation. Now then, to the next order of business: you will be
brought to the Order's headquarters two days before your birthday, which I
believe is not much less than a month away. Whilst at Headquarters, with
your permission, I have decided to bring you into the Order – if you want to,'
said Dumbledore, now grinning back at Harry's silly grin.
'Is this some kind of joke?' Harry asked in amazement. 'Of course I want
to!' he exclaimed.
'Excellent!' Dumbledore answered. 'However, I had a hard time convincing
Molly Weasley and other members to induct you, and as such I had to tell the
Order the contents of the smashed prophecy that was being kept in the
Department of Mysteries. They reluctantly agreed, but Molly insists that
only you be allowed to join,' Dumbledore said.
'So that means Ron and Hermione aren't allowed to join?' Harry asked, now feeling
less elated at the idea. 'Surely they wouldn't like this, and no doubt I
won't be allowed to tell them anything,' he thought grimly to himself.
'I'm afraid that is correct, which also means you will not be able to discuss
any of the Order business with them, at Molly's request, also,' Dumbledore said
sadly. He also obviously knew the reaction that Harry would get from
giving them the news.
'Now for the last order of business. Due to you being a sorcerer and all,
I would like to offer you the position of apprentice to me. I will teach
you all that I know and all that I can. Usually this sort of thing only
happens between family members; but I consider you as such, Harry, and I hope
that you feel the same,' Dumbledore said, again with the smile. Harry's
previous mood from hearing Ron and Hermione were not to be inducted to the
Order was lifted at these words. The greatest wizard of modern times,
asking if he, a not-quite-16-year-old boy, would be his apprentice; but even
more, he was considered family! Harry was positively beaming at
this. He couldn't find words to answer Dumbledore; he didn't know what to
say to this sort of thing. After all, he had grown up for 11 years
without being shown or given any affection or love, minus the one year when
he'd had a loving mother, father, and godfather. In answer to Dumbledore,
Harry nodded dumbly, but with a huge smile on his face and, once again, tears
in his eyes.
Dumbledore, seeing Harry's visage and tears, got the answer he was hoping for,
and smiled back, understanding that the boy wouldn't know how to respond to
this kind of situation.
'Excellent, you have made an old man very happy, Harry. I ask now that
you go to Diagon Alley sometime soon and get some books and other items that
take your fancy. I daresay you have enough money for it. The sort
of books that I would suggest is anything but conventional magic; for example,
books on becoming an Animagus, or books on spell creation and adaptation.
Learn as much as you can. Your parents and Sirius gave their lives for
you to live, and that cannot be done until Tom Riddle is killed once and for
all. Do not let their sacrifices be in vain,' Dumbledore said as he began
rooting around in his pockets for something. When he couldn't locate what
he was looking for, he began to take things out of them, and some of the things
he had in there were downright weird! Out of his right hand pocket he
pulled a rubber chicken; from his inside pocket he pulled out a book that was
easily the size of a breeze block (that is used in the foundation of muggle
homes). This process continued in the same way for several minutes until
he shouted an excited 'Aha!' and pulled out a red baseball cap. Upon
seeing the confused look on Harry's face, he explained.
'It is one of the Weasley Twins' new inventions for the Order. It
disguises the wearer to a set illusion, and this one I believe is of a
30-year-old bald man.'
'And what am I to do with it, sir?' Harry asked, eyeing the hat with suspicion,
as anything that came from the Weasley twins was prone to explode, given the
correct conditions.
'When you go to Diagon alley, it will disguise you from the public – and more
importantly, from any stray Death Eaters that may be wandering around. It
also acts as a portkey that will transport you here to your room, if you say
"Prongs,"' Dumbledore explained, before rising off the conjured chair that
Harry hadn't noticed him conjuring up. He offered the hat to Harry, who
tried it on. At first he didn't feel anything, but then he got a familiar
feeling: the same one he got when he had the disillusionment charm placed on
him, like cold water pouring over him. Once the feeling stopped he
glanced in the mirror to see a bald 30-year-old man looking back with thick
black-rimmed spectacles on his face. Dumbledore chuckled at Harry's
shock.
'Those Weasley twins really are quite gifted, don't you think?' Dumbledore
asked as he stood behind Harry. Harry nodded his agreement, and then took
the cap off before turning to Dumbledore.
'Thank you for coming to see me today sir, it's helped a lot. I felt lost
without Sirius; I thought I had no more family left, but after today I realise
I have a grandfather and a replacement godfather too, if Remus will accept the
job,' Harry said, though he realised he would have to remember to ask Remus
about that.
'It has been my pleasure, Harry, and I'm sure that Remus would be more than
happy to accept the job. I am glad I have finally done something right by
you,' Dumbledore said.
Harry smiled sheepishly about that. He had yet to apologise for breaking
the headmaster's items. 'Professor, about our last meeting: I want to
apologise. I was angry, very angry; and I know that you were only doing
what you thought was right. I should not have blown up the way I did,
especially not at you; after all, you were only guilty of caring too much for
me; and there isn't exactly a big queue of people lining up to care about me at
all. So I'm sorry, sir,' Harry said, determined to look the headmaster in
the eye and prove he meant every word.
Dumbledore smiled fondly at Harry. He truly did consider the boy to be
the grandson he never had. He was happy to have ever been able to say he
had known Harry James Potter, the most kind-hearted, thoughtful person any one
was ever likely to meet. 'Thank you, Harry, but there was no need; I
understand fully what you were feeling. After all, I experienced similar
things during the war against the dark wizard Grindelwald,
though I didn't have a prophecy telling me it had to be me to kill him.
But alas, that is a story for another time, and time is something I am running
short of, sadly,' the professor said as he headed for the door. 'First,
however, I think we should arrange a trip to London for the day after
tomorrow with your blood relatives.'
Harry nodded his head and smiled at the headmaster's use of 'blood
relatives.' It was obvious he meant that that was all they were good for:
providing the protection to Harry; and that his real family were in the
wizarding world. 'Lead the way please, Harry,' Dumbledore said, with the
twinkle in his eyes as bright as ever.
'Certainly, professor, please follow me. The master of the house will see
you now.' Harry's reply gained an amused chuckle from the headmaster.
Once Harry and Dumbledore reached the living room where all of the Dursleys were currently situated, Dumbledore explained to
Uncle Vernon how Harry would need to be taken to London the day after
tomorrow. Just as uncle Vernon was about to blow
his top, Dumbledore turned his attention to the television.
'Oh my, a TalyVishon, remarkable things! Tell
me, do you have little house-elves inside it dressed as muggles, acting out?'
Dumbledore asked a scared Dudley. Harry
suppressed a laugh at the look on Dudley's face when Dumbledore
started talking to him, and then when he pronounced television wrong and said
'house-elf.' It was obvious to Harry what Dumbledore was trying to do: he
was going to get the Dursleys so angry and scared
that they would agree to anything just to get rid of the 'mad old codger,' as
they referred to him later on.
'Yes, yes, I'll take the boy to London; I needed to go
anyway. Now if you don't mind, please leave!' Uncle Vernon said, as
Dumbledore turned his attention onto the silent Aunt Petunia.
'Why thank you, Mister Dursley; that was very kind of you indeed to offer, what
a smashing idea.' Dumbledore replied, as if it wasn't his idea in the first
place. 'Harry, would you mind showing me out now, please?' Dumbledore
asked Harry, as he turned from Aunt Petunia with a smile. Harry found the
whole situation hilarious, and how he managed to not fall to the floor laughing
was beyond him. He would have to remember it for when he got to the
Order's headquarters to tell Ron and Hermione. When he reached the front
door and opened it for Dumbledore, a thought occurred to him.
'Erm, Professor, when and with whom will the Order's call come?' Harry asked.
'Very good question, Harry: I should think it will be Remus, and he will come
by two days before your birthday so you are present at the next Order meeting;
I should think 3 pm will be suitable,' Dumbledore answered.
'Yes, professor, that will be fine. Thank you again for everything,'
Harry replied.
'Goodbye, Harry, I shall see you soon,' Dumbledore said after smiling his
thanks. He turned around and was in mid-step when he disappeared with a
'pop.'
'Well, today certainly was very eventful!' Harry thought to himself, as he
closed the door.
A/N: This chapter has been edited and corrected thanks for the superb literature skills of my new Beta David305 (author link here if it worked) . There will not be any more updates until the chapters have been revised by David but with luck it wont take too long and I have yet to write the next chapter (15). Hope you're enjoying the fic.
Until next time,
GG