Harry Potter and the Staff
of the Phoenix
Chapter One: Healing
Summer
By: Harry's Mum Lily
Disclaimer: Well, I have returned after conquering
several tests and one long paper. As promised here is the sequel to Harry Potter
and the Dark Sigil. Hopefully it will not be as dark as the last story.
This takes place about a month and a half after the end of Dark Sigil. I want to thank you for your reviews and your
patience. Thank you also Coqui for beta reading this. Enjoy ~HML~
All that is
necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing.
Edmund Burke
British Statesman
January 9 1795
The supreme happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved.
Victor Hugo
French Author
The sun rode high
in the nearly clear blue sky. The squid propelled itself lazily across the
water of Hogwarts Lake, which sparkled like molten silver under the sun's
warming rays. The beauty and
tranquility of the scene was lost on Harry Potter, who lay on his back,
watching the clouds that floated high above him. He watched the clouds with the
same intensity that he had when searching the Quidditch pitch for the elusive
Golden Snitch. He was trying not to think about anything that had happened to
him in the last several months, nor about how lucky he was to have even reached
his sixteenth summer.
A few months ago he
had been struggling for his life and up until a week ago had been unable to
leave his bed. He had taken what would have been a fatal wound in order to
prevent his demon possessed body from killing one of the Hogwarts founders:
Godric Gryffindor. Nearly dead, he had been carried by Gryffindor himself back
to his own time and had for nearly a month been unconscious in the Hospital
Wing, delirious with fever. He had missed final exams, O.W.L.s and the leaving
feast. His birthday had come and gone without him waking from the coma his body
had put itself into. Everyone had feared that he would die but then a week ago
he had woken from his "sleep" and found his friends gathered round him. In the time since he had wakened he had
never spoken of what had happened at the portal. He desperately wanted to forget
Slytherin, the demon and Voldemort but the painful memories still hovered at
the edges of his brain. These memories were what caused him to seek out the
solitude of the lakeshore a few days before he was to go to the Weasley's for
the rest of the summer holidays.
The warmth of the
sun felt good to him after his long stay in a room just off the Great Hall and
he felt his mind begin to drift away from his unhappy thoughts and to other
things: things that made his life happy. He thought about flying at top speed
over the Quidditch Pitch, racing to catch the Snitch, he thought about his
friends, and he thought about his parents. Surprisingly thoughts of his parents didn't sadden him as much as they
might have. Instead, they left him with a feeling of peace and love. It was
almost as if they were there beside him, telling him what to do and wrapping
him in their love. His thoughts drifted farther and his eyelids grew heavy.
Soon he was in a deep, healing sleep.
He never noticed
the Merchieftainess's head break water. Lusara looked at him and muttered
something in Mermish, her eyes full of concern. She looked at the castle and
all around the grounds. Seeing no one standing guard over the boy, she took up
a place nearby where she could watch over him for them. She knew he was in
danger, none knew that better than she did, and although humans and Merpeople
had never gotten on together historically, she had felt drawn to the boy since
the Triwizard Tournament when he had kept insisting that he would rescue all
the hostages and not just his own. He had courage; this mere boy did and fire
in his soul. In a strange way he reminded her of herself when she was a young
Mermaid. He would need all the courage and fire he could muster if he expected
to continue to live through attacks such as the one he'd just survived
~
The darkness surrounded
him, deeper and darker than he ever remembered it being. It was full of dread
voices and screams that seemed to go through his very soul. He saw a brilliant
flash of green light and heard people falling all around him until there was
only himself left standing to face Voldemort. He tried to get a good look
around him but was only able to determine that he was within the ruins of a
house but where that house was he had no idea. A complex and powerful spell
glowed around him and the ruins as Voldemort advanced on him with his wand
drawn. His Death Eaters remained well back from the duel. Voldemort's mad red
eyes bore into Harry's own and he grinned in a parody of a friendly smile.
"So you still hope
to defeat me with your puny bit of ancient magick. I have grown much stronger
than when last we met. Look around you, Harry. Everyone else has died trying to
protect you. They needn't have died at all and would not have but for you and
this foolish enterprise of yours," Voldemort sneered.
"That is a lie!" he
cried, tears blurring his vision for a moment and his anger rising. "You say they needn't have died but I say
you needn't have killed them. It was not their time to leave this world."
Harry advanced,
tears still running down his face, his eyes narrowed and his scar burning with
more pain then it had ever before.
"By the Light and
in memory of everyone you have slain, I command this most ancient spell set
long before to awaken and at last complete the task for which it was created by
my parents. As my parents gave their lives to protect me so to do I give my
blood to renew the sacrifice given before in this place of Light."
To late Harry saw
the green light of the Avada Kedavra Curse winging its way toward him. He stood
calmly, watching the approaching bolt of death and swung his staff high over
his head, muttering the final words of the incantation that would activate the
spell…
~
Harry jerked awake,
his eyes wide and staring. The sky overhead was still blue and the still waters
of the lake held a silver sheen from the sum. There was nothing and no one near
him, yet he felt as if someone were watching him. He drew his knees up to his
chin and laid his head on them. He sat with his eyes closed, completely silent,
trying to discern the slightest sound, but he heard nothing except for the
lapping of the water as the squid moved across it. He stood up looking around
him and at last saw it was one of the Merpeople who was watching him from among
a stand of water plants. Her eyes looked into his and for some reason, he had
the feeling he could trust her as he trusted Dumbledore. He looked at her and
realised that he recognised her face. She was the Merchieftainess that
Dumbledore had spoken to after the Second Task now two years gone.
They studied one
another for several minutes in silence; Harry remembering how she had been the
one to tell Dumbledore about what had happened during the task and Lusara
studying the Boy Who Lived with the intensity she normally reserved for the
choosing of warriors she would send against the creatures that constantly
encroached on the Merpeople's territory. Harry remembered how he had thought
she looked wild and vicious the first time he had seen her. She didn't look
that way to him now. She looked at him and it seemed to him that her eyes held
concern and maybe a touch of love. This shocked him.
Lusara watched him
and knew he was the one meant to claim the treasure that had been hidden in the
lake since ancient days; days before wizards had raised the castle near the
lake that had been the Merpeople's home for centuries. He was strong in body
and mind and the power he held was more than anyone she'd ever seen before. His
heart was pure, steadfast and given only to the Light. He also had the courage
and the will to succeed where others would fail. The treasure the Merpeople had
guarded these many centuries should, by rights, be his but they no longer held
it. It had been taken by creatures of darkness, shadows that had crept into the
vault where it had been hidden and the guardians unaware it was taken until too
late to stop the shadows. They had
never seen creatures like these before and they had no way to protect
themselves against them. Already several of her strongest warriors had fallen
to them.
She began to tell
Harry about this, sensing the time was right for the Heir to claim his own, but
Harry shook his head, unable to understand Mermish. She frowned and began to
gesture with her hands, trying to make him understand, but to no avail. Harry,
after a moment of fruitless attempts to understand and to be understood,
motioned toward the castle.
"I will get
Dumbledore, okay?" he said carefully, hoping she would get the idea.
"Dum…dore," Lusara
nodded and motioned to the castle and then herself.
"Wait here."
Harry nodded to her
and made his way quickly back to Hogwarts, wondering what was going on. As he
walked, he looked at the castle rising up before him and thought of the
Hogwarts of 1095. He'd learned so much there but there was still so much he
didn't know about his family and his past. The time had come for him to ask.
Dumbledore had the answers and only he would be able to answer some of the
questions that burned inside Harry's heart. Harry felt he might be better able
to fight if he knew the details, that those details might hold some clue about
how to defeat Voldemort. He suspected that there was something in his past that
could aid them now but he had no idea what it might be. He had very few
conscious memories of his life before the Dursleys. Somewhere in those dim and
shadowy memories might be the key to defeating Voldemort if he could only find
it.
He entered the
castle and stopped a moment in the Entrance Hall to catch his breath, suddenly
realising that he'd been almost running in his haste to reach the Headmaster's
office. He stopped and took several deep breaths. There were several teachers
crossing the Entrance Hall, including Severus Snape, who stopped in his walk to
come over to him.
"Potter…Are you all
right?" there was a look of concern in his eyes that surprised Harry when he
looked up.
"I'm fine,
Professor. Just moved too quickly."
Snape looked him
over and decided that he was speaking the truth. Harry could be as stubborn as
his father sometimes but it appeared that he was not being so this time.
"Take care of
yourself. I suspect that Gryffindor would like to have its Seeker in good shape
for the coming season."
Harry nodded and
began to walk toward the marble staircase, leaving Snape to return to the
entrance to the dungeons. As he walked up the stairs and down the long hall, he
marveled at Snape's apparent change of attitude toward him. He had gone out of
his way to be civil and even, once or twice, looked genuinely concerned for his
well being. Harry wasn't sure why or what had happened to cause this change but
he wasn't going to complain. Snape seemed to have come to terms with something
in his own past and maybe this explained his changed attitude.
Harry gave the
gargoyle the password and began to ascend the stairs to the oak door at the top
of them. He started to knock but voices on the other side of the door stopped
him.
~
The people seated
around Dumbledore were silent for a moment in their discussion of Sirius Black's
retrial, although McGonagall had called it a trail rather then a retrial
because Sirius had never really had a trail the first time.
"It was a witch
hunt that sent Sirius to Azkaban. Barty Crouch Sr. was out for the blood of
anyone even suspected of dealing with the dark arts. He might have even sent
you to Azkaban, Albus." Minerva said seriously.
Dumbledore nodded
quietly, neither giving credit to what she said nor denying it might have been
possible. Thankfully for them all it had not happened, although Fudge was certainly
stirring up quite enough trouble for the Headmaster and Harry now and had been
for the last year. Harry of course knew nothing of all of this nor would he
until he was stronger. Dumbledore wondered how one man could be such a thorn in
his side. Ever since they had parted ways now two years past, Fudge had been
doing everything in his power to remove Dumbledore from office and to imprison
Harry for various crimes but thus far he had been unsuccessful. The parents of
students at Hogwarts would take no one else as Headmaster or Headmistress in
this troubled time and the Board of Governors agreed with them. As for Harry,
no one could lay a finger on him without the rest of the wizarding world
knowing about it. Most of them were ready to defend him.
Dumbledore had
called this meeting, not to discuss Sirius, or even Fudge but instead to try
and determine what precautions, if any, should be taken now that Harry had
awakened from his coma. There were several spells they could try but nearly all
of them would restrict Harry's movements and Dumbledore wanted, despite the
threat of Voldemort, to give Harry as normal a life as it was possible for one
in his circumstances to have. They had all had this discussion before but now
was the time for some answers.
"Maybe the
Protectorus Charm?" Gryffindor offered from a comfortable chair by the window.
Fawkes was seated
at his knee and he trilled one note and fanned out his tail, which shot off scarlet
sparks. Sir Godric smiled and said
something to the phoenix that none of the others could hear. Fawkes looked
around the room with his bright eyes, taking in each witch or wizard present.
He noted that each was worried about Harry. He turned his eyes back to
Dumbledore and trilled a second note that hung in the air before he settled himself
once more upon Gryffindor's knee and allowing Godric to stroke his feathers.
Dumbledore nodded
at Gryffindor's words, seeing the wisdom they held.
"The Protectorus
Charm is a strong one, granting the one it is cast upon protection from most
curses and attempts to snare them," said Dumbledore. Yet it will allow that
person the ability to move about freely. It is a modified form of the Fidelius
Charm that makes the individual unplotable and unable to be sensed by his enemy
even if that enemy is standing right next to the person he wishes to attack."
"It should be
preformed on him as soon as he is strong enough," continued Sir Godric.
Dumbledore turned
to Lady Helga and Madam Pomfrey, who had taken charge of Harry.
"How is he?" he
asked, concern highlighting his voice. "When can the Charm be performed?"
"Physically he will
be fine. He will still get winded if he tries to do too much at first, but,
with time, he should make a full recovery. I see no reason why the spell cannot
be performed now," Madame Pomfrey smiled at Dumbledore but that smile never
reached her troubled eyes. "It's the Dark Mark on his arm that worries me. How
will he be able to fight off its call? Severus has had to deal with it for
months now, and for years before this, but even he has needed help from time to
time. How will Harry ignore it?"
Dumbledore's eyes
held hers for a moment. He had no real answer to that question and it was one
that weighed heavily on his own mind.
"I don't know,
Poppy. It may be that the Protectorus Charm will shield him from the call or
make the Mark ineffectual.
"But sir, surely
you know what happens to one who has been touched by the Dark Lord. He will
lose a little of his power and himself year by year until the heart of Harry
Potter will belong to Voldemort."
"Poppy, you are
forgetting one thing…Harry has been touched by Voldemort already and the curse
scar has not yet turned him to evil. It has had 16 years to try and he is still
as he was." He held up a hand, interrupting Madam Pomfrey's sputtered comment.
"I'm not saying it could not have happened and I've no doubt that Voldemort believed
the scar would be enough to turn Harry to evil but it failed to do so.
Voldemort probably hopes the Dark Mark will help him to control or even turn
Harry but it too may fail. The protections I intend to set up will make sure
this doesn't happen. I will also be strengthening the charms already in place
around him. Harry will be as safe as we can make him and his will is strong."
The others nodded
in agreement. Lady Helga's soft voice broke the silence.
"He was broken in
spirit once but because of that, now his will is stronger then it has ever been.
He will fight off the influence of evil." She turned to Lady Rowena, who took
up the thread of the conversation.
"Harry refuses to
talk of what happened at the portal but we do know he was touched by one of the
shadow demons that frequent the area around Hogwarts in our day. Once you have
been so touched by one of them you are forever changed but for good or ill I
cannot say. It may be that Slytherin
has inadvertently helped your cause by using such creatures against Harry"
"His will is
strong, as you say," Dumbledore broke in. "He will survive, he always has. The
important thing now is for us to make sure he is as protected as possible. He
must not fall into Voldemort's hands again. Toward that end, I would
like to ask all of you to help me in strengthening the wards on the castle and
grounds. Some of them have grown weak over time and since you three set most of
the protections here, your help would be welcomed. We will all be better
protected this way."
The others agreed.
Dumbledore did not tell them that he feared an attack by Voldemort on Hogwarts
itself. At some point the eyes of the Dark Lord would turn toward the school
and to him, especially if they were able to put Harry out of the Dark Lord's reach.
"There is something
more we must tell you," Sir Godric said quietly. "We have been trying to build
a new portal to return us home but we have been unable to do so but something
is blocking us. It appears we are trapped here."
Dumbledore looked
at the three Founders in surprise but they all seemed unconcerned about this
fact.
"Let us worry about
that later. For now, Albus, let us have a look at those protections of yours."
They all rose and began
to head for the door, Dumbledore in the lead.
~
Harry stood at the
door, listening and was still standing there when the door flew open. He jumped
back and saw Dumbledore's kind eyes looking at him with concern. He took a gulp
of air and tried to act as if he had heard nothing of the conversation within
the room.
"Harry…? What are
you doing here?" Dumbledore asked in kindly voice.
"The Merchieftainess
wants to talk with you," Harry said. "She seems frantic about something, sir.
She tried to talk to me but I don't understand Mermish."
"Thank you, Harry.
I will go and speak with her now. I needed to ask her a question anyway."
Dumbledore left his
office with the others trailing along behind him. He walked quickly down the
stairs and down the hall. He moved so swiftly that Harry, after a few minutes,
could not keep up. He slumped down against a wall, taking deep, even breaths in
an effort to control the sudden bout of weakness he was experiencing. That was
when it hit him. For a moment everything grew hazy, as if someone had thrown a
veil over his sight. Then his scar exploded with pain and his head became full
of cold, mocking laughter. The Dark Sigil on his arm began to burn intensely,
sending agony up and down his arm. He tried to cry out but only a faint moan
escaped his mouth. The corridor spun and he felt darkness closing in around
him. His limp body slumped to the floor with a dull thud and he began to
tremble, muttering, "Evil is coming" over and over again.