Chapter 2
:
AN: Thank you all for the great reception to the first chapter, unfortunately, I have exams for the next 2 months so won't be posting. Reviews are very much appreciated. However, this chapter will be longer than the previous one, so until then… Ock8
The world was dark. Shadows ruled in fear and worry, and ruin clung to the floor like mould. Hands made in war and shaped in the cruel forge of tyranny grasped at the innocence and naive, feverishly whispering promises of salvation that would never be kept. Those lucky enough not to be dragged into the abyss trudged onwards, their destination unsure, their path rocky. Would the darkness rule as an unknown verse preordained? Would the light claw its way into the horizon?
Harry lay asleep, and while potions swirled in his blood, his mind was whirling in a battle with the shade of Lord Voldemort. He remembered snippets of his adventure down the chamber. They crashed together in visions of colour and pain in his mind's eyes, the visions becoming more terrifying at each crescendo and descent.
Ginny, her eyelids closed while the translucent shade of Tom Riddle gloated over her lifeless body while her strength drained out of her with every rasping breath he made. The diary, tattered and still as strong as ever the catalyst of the terrifying sight before him. Its ruined and blank pages a symbolic reminder of the rituals that Voldemort had gone through.
Blink.
The haunting wail of the Basilisk that shook the room as it reeled back in shock, it's eyes Empty holes- a testament to Fawkes bravery, the sword of Gryffindor sliced through its upper jaw. The thud then petered out into a rumble as the carcass dropped into its final resting place, to lie in the chamber for generations to come. The last expression of agony and betrayal etched upon its features.
Blink.
Dobby snapping his fingers, his eyes filled with emotion as he paid the ultimate price for an act of defiance. Disappearing into the air that supported him and gave him life.
Blink.
Then from the murky depths of his own mind, a dazzling light pierced through the inky darkness and pushed. The magical core of a teenager is still growing and changing much like muggle researchers have figured out the brain is, in this state the very magical signature is at its most powerful and vulnerable. It can be moulded and shaped and warped, strong emotions, in particular can influence the soul like no other, years of indifference on the part of the Dursley's left Harry's magical core empty, his distance from magic leaving him volatile. With years of training and help this crucial imbalance could be corrected, as the only living heir of the Potter line (who were rumoured to have traced their lineage to Arthur Pendragon and Merlin) he had magic running in his blood and tissue naturally. Whilst at Hogwarts his core had started to fill at an extraordinary rate but his emotions were still jumbled and memories unbound then others who had been interacting with magic all their lives.
The light snatched the memories from the forefront of his mind and banished them into nothingness. A smooth sensation spread through him and sunk into his mind like melted chocolate. Inside the young wizards' magical core, the unfamiliar magic was doing 9 years worth of nourishment, pruning and calming the passionate streaks of red and blue meeting and mixing only to separate and mix again in a purple haze of agitation. The tendrils of healing parted the sea of turbulence and changed the dark purple into a softer comforting lilac. The partial scan was a success, the information given to him was, at least to this point reliable. With a gentle nudge, the tendrils withdrew slowly and Harry Potter woke from his sleep with a gradual awareness and wouldn't see the world the same again.
When the moon hadn't yet given up on its grasp on the inky Scottish sky, Harry woke with the usual fuzzy haze that covered his brain in a dense fog gone, his drowsiness that accompanied such early awakenings in absentia. The familiar setting of the infirmary looked eerily distant to its usual self in the watery light, which stained the walls and floors a pale shade of silver, beds looking indistinguishable. He after some time gathering the strength to fight of the waves of sleepiness engulfing him realised the reason for his untimely waking, a visitor whose appearance could only be described as otherworldly.
Its stature large but approachable, its features a beautiful formulation of human and elf as if fate itself smiled upon this being when adding its race to this plane of existence. The beings face a testament to the pearly statues that Harry remembered seeing on TV from some museum, the Dursleys had left him with Mrs Figg for Dudley's 9th birthday. He had been allowed a slice of cake and a party hat for cooking all the weeks meals. It was a very good day, he still remembered the way the smooth velvety cake had melted in his mouth, the hint of almond as he kept the piece in his mouth as long as he dared to. More feelings of warmth sprung up inside him as he gazed at the figure in wonder. An alien presence gently brushed the outer edges of his mind before softly addressing him in a tone that could melt even aunt Petunias heart. "Hello Harry Potter, I am seneschal Celegrom, governor of the light elf community, privy councillor to the International Community of Sentient beings of Magic, and I need to talk to you about a house-elf called Dobby"
In a flurry of activity, Harrys mind was pulled and swirled into a featureless rosy red room. A thick carpet which sank underfoot hugged the floor and outwardly melted into the wall. A simple chair stood opposite a heavy oak desk, which drew the attention of the room's lone inhabitant. Before Harry could even wonder what was happening, the door drew open with an easing motion. The elf-man – Celegrom – he remembered strode in the room and sat on the chair and without a second thought conjured a lavish looking armchair that Harry sunk into. "Harry" as the elf spoke, his words were copied down onto a stack of parchment in neat loopy handwriting. "We are now in a mental sphere of my own making, this room to all but us doesn't exist, time has been dilated to the point where no time will pass in the time where you are here. Before we begin do you have any questions?"
"Who are you? What did you say about dobby? What's the International Magic Beings- "?
"Do you trust me?" The voice asked gently, as he did the gentle presence seemed to brush his mind.
After he locked his gaze with Celegrom, he simply nodded. Curiosity was burning inside of him, when he had met the Centaurs in the forest, they seemed nice enough. But to think there were other magical creatures and they had formed a government was an amazing idea. Hermione had in all her lectures never mentioned a community of magical beings, not even a light elf. He wondered if Lockheart's Cornish pixies were on members. Giggling at the thought, he let himself be swept away on the fantasy. He wanted to know about Dobby, the weird elf had saved his life earlier and Harry couldn't simply believe he was gone; And most importantly where he was. Celegrom had mentioned it was happening in his brain, but if so why did the sofa feel so real? Or the carpet of the floor so vivid?
He, for the second time today found himself being transported head first into a blissful void. When his head has stopped spinning he found himself inside a simple courtroom. It was like he was inside the set of a police drama. There were rings of tiered platforms with placards denoting the race of creature and their role in the court. He was standing next to Celegrom who with his special poise and dignity was talking the centaur next to him. The centaur has a golden mane that sunk to his shoulders. His Muscular torso looked sculptured and he had a proud expression of his face as he talked to Celegrom, the elf even seeming to laugh at a humorous remark. As he wondered of the name it appeared in his mind in a burst of information as if willed to, "Cyllarus" a fitting name he thought. There were scores of creatures lining the platforms on 3 sides of the courtroom. Mermaids in a pool of water, looking happier than the mermaids in the lake who were miserable and downcast. Hags and vampires, Harry recognises from the pictures in his defence book. After a week of learning nothing in class he had, much to Ron's dissatisfaction and bemusement opened a defence book he found in the library and looked over the magical creatures found in all corners of the world. A pair of unicorns with flowing manes and horns that drew in the light and dissipated it to the room were in the centre. In front of them was a Dragon of immense proportions. Scales of black coated it's vast body, shimmering in an intricate dance with the light as he moved and shifted talking to many races of magical beings at the same time. He guessed he was the chief warlock of the court like Dumbledore was, again his adventure with Quirrell meant he had spent his free time researching the magical government with Hermione. The various members lining the walls he assumed where the Councils Wizengamot members. They had no identification apart from a small placard which in an example of Celegroms read:
"Celegrom Falassion
Light Elf of Eyrlieburg
Privy Councilor"
As he wondered on the various roles of the various creatures, a soft voice echoed across the tall courtroom. "Welcome Harry, son of Lily Potter nee Evans, Heir of House Potter, we have much to talk to you about before the trial starts". The Dragon who had been looking at Harry through the welcome nodded to the unicorn who stepped back. "Thank you, Galafriedel" The unicorn dipped its horn in a sign of respect and carried on looking forwards. "I am Acclivus the prince of the East. I am the honoured member who has been chosen to lead the community for this Cycle. You are here because magic has claimed you. The 99 members of the council have been chosen by Magic herself. Harry, Celegrom will give you an overview of the history of the chamber and its motives however we need to press on. We have kept ourselves hidden from the world of men due to your destructive and inherently flawed nature, always looking to wield nature to pretend you were born perfect and not evolved out of the mud. But Harry has been marked by the rawest and unpredictable of magic, 3 prophecies; one giant, one centaur and one human. Have you been told of these prophecies? "
Having paid rapt attention to Acclivus's speech, he felt the eyes of all the beings in the room upon him and yet he felt almost ashamed to shake his head and disappoint them. Glancing up at Acclivus he shook his head quickly and muttered a barely audible "No".
Conversation broke out like wildfire across the seats. Straining his ears to catch a conversation between a Nundu and a Hag, the word "Dumbledore" seemed to drift across the hall, carried by a draft of disgust and incredibility. Celegrom had noticed Harry's discomfort at the name of the headmaster being used and gave him a look that promised both context and a calming dose of information to ease his shaking hands. He fixed his eyes upon Acclivus and watched as the Centaur Cyllarus trotted down the platforms and endured a script written in an elegant script carefully merged with the purest white paper.
Taurus the 1st house ascendant
Kings from Ambrosius descendant
Born to who differ in birthright
Amalgamation is to cite
minor; wielder; enchanter all
Magiks arcane and beast enthralled
An ill-fated foe who dies for a vow
becomes greater than his nature will allow
Harry, staring into the dreamy words on the paper as if they held him in place unable to do nothing but stare at them, barely able to maintain eye contact. They whispered promises of happiness but spat out certainties of doom with such malice it burned the air around them. The meaning that bound him to the words with a silken cord unravelled and spun away when he had thought he had got it, like embers of fire drifting and twisting in the wind, turning into empty air and the void. He guessed a mental block, as the letters emanated a pulse of magic unknown to him. But the room was alive with magic, pulsing and shimmering. A nod from Cyllarus and a dam burst in the atmosphere and meaning swept under him, a deluge of instructions threating to overwhelm him of all his reason, the person motioned so prominently himself. Eddy's of panic swirled his brain around until it ebbed in his skull. The fact the words were so, as his Uncle had pointed out when Dudley had to draw out a 16th century cursed tablet for homework "too complicated for its own good", didn't sit well with him either. The prophecy been swirling among the forethought of the council for a long time and not all them looked happy at him being the subject of it. Looks bordering on anger seemed to appear momentarily and disappear again just as fleetingly as they had been displayed. There was politics everywhere in the room. Every word of Acclivus speech had been carefully chosen, weighed up and selected as a general chooses his troops and mobilising them into battle.
Acclivus spoke again, in solemn tones that drew the attention of the room and didn't relinquish it. "Harry, the first job of this ancient body has been done as it should have been years ago, now you shall depart with Celegrom where he shall explain everything regarding you and this prophecy. We shall meet again on the 5th hour of the waning cycle of the moon." With this, he dipped his snout and all the members disappeared and faded into nothingness. Celegrom nodded his goodbye to the centaur beside him and with a twist transported Harry into darkness and nothing.
It was at this moment the universe shifted. The course of bloodshed and war was skewed to the side. All the pain of the innocent, the laments of the living unlucky enough to still be alive while family were dead, the dead's expression of indifference. All was tossed aside, by a gesture of hope, of forgiveness. But all was not saved. The living would still nurse wounds never to heal when the dust settled. People would still lie in freshly dug graves when the last wand was lowered. But perhaps the light had found a way into the fray, and all would be different.
Quick AN again:
Harry hasn't been starved or beaten at the Dursleys, I have seen a lot of fics where Harry has been abused by them and while the theory of the Horcrux in Harry's scar affecting them has credence, due to there, being no Horcruxes, only Petunias frosty past with Lily will change how they effect harry.