Forgive
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" asked Harry, as he held his blade under the moonlight. The red-haired three year old nodded, but didn't say anything. Really, it was to be expected given everything else that had happened... Though some things were, as usual, better left uncontemplated.
Channelling a small fragment of his power into the blade, harry hummed as thin lines of runic fire traced themselves over the black body of the weapon, spelling out intent, declaring purpose to the world. Beneath them, subtler light shimmered beneath the surface— arithmantic arrays that made the tool a thousand times more useful than any mere wand.
Although the one made of elder still stood above it.
Letting his power fade, Harry sighed before he tilted his head up to the night sky, dark green eyes flickering to a sullen amber before they shifted back to green.
It was lonely at the top.
Dark, light...
It really didn't matter.
No, it really didn't matter.
Those who wield power above the standards of humanity were ever destined to become less than human.
And also, in a very few ways, something more.
A sudden weight upon his shoulders drew him out of his reverie, and it was only then that he noticed that the child was asleep.
Sitting on the edge of Thames Bay, he smiled a bittersweet smile.
Mars was bright tonight.
Forget
"The first and most fundamental weapon in our world is not fire," the blond man explained. "Nor swords. Nor spells, nor poison, nor pain.
"It is noting that you can conceive of readily. Some men might tell you that manipulation is the first weapon. Some might tell you it is lies, and others will say that the truth is a dangerous and beatiful thing."
A crooked smirk made it's way across the man's face. "Yes, I believe that we have one of the last kind in this very school. But he is a fool, Harry Potter. Can you guess why?"
Harry shook his head mutely.
"Don't worry. I didn't see it either, at first. But there it is. Nobody understands."
"Albus Dumbledore is a fool, because he thinks the truth is his weapon— but it isn't. For Albus Dumbledore, The truth is a dagger to stab his adversaries in the back with. For Lucius Malfoy, manipulation is the sword with which one stabs the opposition's hearts. For Severus Snape, two lies form the the main gauche he uses to parry strikes that would leave him dead otherwise. A dagger, a sword, and a main gauche, Harry Potter."
The man paused dramatically— the one point of commonality he held with his counterpart, before asking the question that would teach the lesson.
"What is the underlying truth of their weapons?"
"Er—" Harry said, before he paused and thought... and then smiled a little.
"They're all blades."
"And then, of manipulations is a blade, if lies are a blade, and if truth is a blade, Harry Potter... What is a blade?"
Harry thought, and silence stretched, but eventually, the smile returned.
"Information."
And the blond haired man smiled, and slowly began to clap. When the sound finally faded, when the room was quiet, he finished his lesson.
"Information. Good. Information is the first weapon, and the most fundamental one, because in the end, it's what everything boils down to. And that is why the Memory Arts are the most powerful weapons in the world."
"Some men can kill with a word, Harry Potter. But I? I can bring the world to it's knees."
Forbid
"But wait a tic— this doesn't make any sense. If a philosopher's stone is so easy to create, then why the bloody hell doesn't everybody have one!"
"Because of the final ingredient in the stone."
"The Tears of Akasha? What do they have to do with anything?"
"What do they— oh god, you actually don't know, do you?"
"Know what?"
"Souls, Boy. The Tears of Akasha are souls."
Forsake
He was hanging off a cliff, his wand gone and his fingers barely maintaining their grip as an evil wind tried to tug his body away. Above him stood a master of war, and one of his oldest friends.
"Help me!" He cried.
The master smiled a cold smile, and pointed a wand at him.
"Depulso."
And then he fell.
Forbode
THE ONES WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE FELL LORDS APPROACHES... BORN TO THOSE WHO HAVE THRICE DEFIED THEM, BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES... THE FELL LORDS WILL MARK THEM AS THEIR EQUALS, BUT THEY SHALL HOLD POWER THAT THE FELL LORDS KNOW NOT... EITHER MUST DIE AT THE HAND OF THE OTHER, FOR NEITHER MAY LIVE WHILE THE OTHER SURVIVES. THIS SO FATE DECREES. THIS SO FATE MANDATES. THIS SO FATE WILLS.
FORCE
In a conflagration of green and blue flame, the life and soul of a father was sacrificed for his daughter. And in a silent explosion, the city was simply gone.
FORK
And so standing on the end of the river, of life, before the waterfall of eternity, the young man leapt.
HARRY POTTER AND THE LEGACIES OF MAGIC
Eien: Damn it, I have got to stop posting new projects like this. Anyway, as for why Harry has a sword, Somewhere on the internet, months and months ago, I vaguely remember reading someone's opinion that stories that gave Harry a sword are irredeemable by default.
So I started this story because SCREW YOU INTERNET PERSON I CAN'T REMEMBER.
Actually, no. This is a... re-start of a concept I never quite got out of the drawing room the first time around, because.. well, it doesn't really matter does it? The sword is cool, but incidental.