Chapter 3 – The Key Is Blood
"These chanted spells are really disappointing," Harry said lazily as he yawned and got up off of the sofa he had been sitting on for the last hour. "Most of them are redundant or we can use them without the incantation too."
Hermione made a distracted 'hmm' noise without looking up from her workbench. A few seconds later his words finally caught up to her busy mind. "I told you to quit reading it," Hermione said humorously. "Here, read this one instead, then you can finally help me build these."
Harry plucked the spinning book out of her levitation charm and flipped it open. The first chapter was nothing but the author droning on and on about his research technique, how long it took him to discover the right process, and how many other wizards, many of them listed by name, had said what he wanted to do was impossible.
"Does this guy ever make a point or does he just go on forever about how great he is?" Harry asked as he delved straight into the second chapter and found much of the same sort of talk.
"As I recall it's about half and half," Hermione said. She held up a small opaque ball and examined it closely. A tiny tongue of flame erupted from it and engulfed the sphere, but it did not burn her fingers. "I think I'm getting close."
"So what other kind of spells can we construct?" Harry asked as he idly leafed through the pages without reading them. Every once in a while he would stop to examine a diagram more closely. One of the side effects of the extensive, intensive, study of magic that he had engaged in for the last two years was that learning new skills had become much easier. Magic had a tendency to follow similar paths with only a few deviations necessary for stark differences in outcome.
"Well, in theory just about any kind, but the more complex the spell the more power necessary to keep it tied to the physical world," Hermione said. "Hopefully when we finish the Sorcerer's Stone we'll have far more options."
It had been a few weeks since they received the secrets of the Sorcerer's Stone from Dumbledore and had set about to resurrect Nicholas Flamel's creation. First they had gone over the entirety of Riddle Manor again with the most thorough inspection they could muster to make sure that there were no hidden dangers. Once satisfied with any internal threats to the stone they had tried to address concerns of being infiltrated from some renegade Death Eater despite the powerful spells hiding the mansion's location.
Harry had smugly declared the wards guarding Riddle Manor comparable to the protections on Hogwarts. Hermione had blushed, since most of their design, function, and power had come from her, but refused to go that far, instead pronouncing them 'adequate' for their purposes. The dementors, who never tire nor grow bored, had been commanded to form a solid ring around the premises of the estate's grounds. Many more floated far above the ground ensuring that even if something managed to penetrate the mansion itself it would be impossible for such a breach to go unnoticed.
Then, once they had spent several exhausting days securing the mansion, they had been faced with countless more tedious days of trying to begin the first and most difficult stage of the creation process for the Sorcerer's Stone. Even now Harry could feel the dull pain of chronic magical fatigue beating like a drum on the inside of his bones. It was made worse by the fact that they had been forced to restart the process, on more than one occasion, because the complexity was such that even Hermione made mistakes despite the guidance of the journal.
Even worse, they still had no idea how to finish the stone in its entirety. Dumbledore had forgotten to mention one final quark of Flamel's journal. It had some kind of spell woven into it that prevented anyone from reading all of it at once. If one read too far the words would become blurry until it the reader could no longer continue. They had tried to cheat by reading aloud and taking turns, but the book hadn't allowed that. Surprisingly, even when reading silently the spell would prevent them from taking turns. Hermione had quickly surmised that it must be because of their mental bond the spell couldn't tell the difference between them or perhaps when someone started reading the book demanded that it only be read a section at a time regardless of who was to do the reading.
"So is it time for the next section yet?" Harry asked. He sat the book Hermione had given him down on a nearby table and went to sit beside her. After all, he could probably learn the new technique just as well or better from watching her than by reading the ramblings of the wizard wrote the book hundreds of years ago.
Hermione picked up the journal and studied it for a moment. The words were hazy at first, but after a few seconds they took on shape and form as the spell decided to allow her to continue.
"It's another section of Flamel recounting important events," Hermione said as she glanced ahead. Some sections of the journal contained instructions on how to construct the Sorcerer's Stone. Scattered amongst the instructions were various important events, mostly revolving around Flamel's battle with two young sorcerers.
So far they had read about how Flamel had tried repeatedly to counter the sorcerers with the stone in a series of stalemated battles across Europe during the turn of the century. Already an old man when he first created the stone, Flamel had nonetheless carried on in his immortality for hundreds of years. The gap in experience between him and the sorcerers made up for a gap in power that leaned in the opposite direction. Harry sat forward with rapt attention as Hermione began to speak.
June 8, 1908 – I was pursued across Europe for many weeks in what had become one unending battle. The young sorcerers, whose faces I have yet to see despite our many encounters, are fearsome opponents, but at last their inexperience has caused them to fall into my hand. Above a frozen forest devoid of human life I could finally unveil the full extent of the Sorcerer's Stone. They believed that they had taken me by surprise and I think that they persisted in that belief until the end of the battle.
Unlike our prior skirmishes there was no probing of each other's readiness, nor any cautious expectations of a trap, just devastation. I shielded myself as best I could, though my body quickly became tattered from spells until I was kept alive only by the Elixir of Life and the magic of the stone itself. The two sorcerers attacked with the full extent of their powers and I responded in kind. There was a flash of white light, the spells we used I can no longer even recall, but their interaction with each other left the landscape in turmoil. The forest was a flattened burning husk for many miles in each direction around the site of our battle. I was even more grievously injured than the sorcerers, but by using the Elixir of Life I was able to put on an appearance of vitality that fooled them into thinking I had the power to destroy them if I so desired. I offered them their lives in exchange for their oath to never again seek to dominate those around them with their powers. They agreed, thankfully, and limped away, but I knew within myself that the bulk of my power had been broken to the point that it might never recover. I had for some time exceeded the amount of power that is allowed to humans, at least to this one, through my manipulation of my body by alchemy.
I was too exhausted to conjure a portkey or apparate back to England so I made my way to a nearby muggle town called Kirensk to recover. The people there were in an uproar having witnessed a fireball in the distant sky and felt the shock waves of our colliding magic. They were kind though and tended to my injuries without asking too many questions about my strange style of dress or how I came to be in the woods with whatever flimsy explanation I gave. Though I am hopeful for the longevity of the bargain which I have struck with the sorcerers I fear that at least one of them may not be of a sane mind. I must hurry back to England as soon as possible to contact a promising wizard I know and have worked with before. He is currently slated as next in line to teach transfiguration at Hogwarts and now I must convince him to take up another responsibility…
"He's talking about Dumbledore," Harry said. Hermione nodded that this was most likely the case and then skipped down a few lines to continue. While they didn't routinely skip much of the journal there were some entries that were too mundane to bother reading out loud.
Now the alchemic process should be reaching its most critical phase when the final component must be added to induce the compression of the liquid crystal. The process should have by now yielded enough vapors, once condensed, to fill a standard beaker…
"This is more instructions Harry, we'd better go check the cauldron," Hermione said. Her eyes continued to dart across the text in the journal as they moved to the room that they had set up their alchemy lab in.
Harry examined the bizarre collection of glass piping that had been cobbled together from Flamel's directions to capture and condense the vapor that was rising off of a giant black cauldron. In fact there were two identical sets sitting side by side since they were trying to make a stone for each of them. The thick bubbly substance in the cauldrons was greenish black, but the vapor that rose off of it was as clear as the purest water when condensed back into a liquid. Two beakers of the clear fluid had been collected and were sitting on small stands next to the cauldrons awaiting the final ingredient. Hermione began reading again.
A last word of caution to those who successfully complete this process…the power of alchemic sorcery is one not given to mortals, or even to most of the immortals of this world. The Sorcerer's Stone is a power that even the kindest of mages will be tempted to use for their own glory, it is a wealth that even the most pious will lust for within their own hearts, because the Sorcerer's Stone, when truly created by one's own hand, is a part of them and they a part of it. The final component is blood.
Hermione looked up at Harry with wide eyes, no longer able to continue aloud. He leaned closer to her and looked down at the faded words.
Anyone who obtains the stone may use its powers of immortality and panacea, but only the creator may wield its full potential. Through many trials I have discovered these secrets of the stone, but even I remain naïve in its ways. The use of the stone may grind down mountains to dust and scatter your foes before you, but its power is not unlimited. Discovering the limitations of the stone is just as important as its strengths. Through my trails I have determined that the increase in power is mostly through a process of increasing the efficiency of a person's natural power similar to, but more effective than, that of a wand. It is my most sincere hope that the use of this stone will always be a reluctant sacrifice rather than an eager undertaking for I fear the consequences for the world should the latter be the case…
Below the last paragraph was a diagram that indicated how much of the unformed liquefied stone should be stored up and how much blood that one should add to the mixture to start the completing reaction. Harry glanced at Hermione with some trepidation before conjuring two long thin silver blades and handing her one.
"No choice," Hermione said. She licked her lips nervously and put her finger over the center of the container. Harry did likewise also realizing that they really didn't have any choice, assuming Dumbledore's worries were accurate, and stuck the blade into his finger. A large drop of blood welled up and dropped into the container, followed by a second, then a third. A quick healing charm was all it took to stop the flow once enough had fallen into the clear liquid.
"So the color of the stone isn't just red," Harry said softly as he leaned in close to observe the reaction, "It's the color of blood."
"Yeah," Hermione said, her eyes glimmering as she stared at the blood intruding deeper into the concentrated liquid of the unformed stone.
"It's almost like I can feel it forming," Harry said. His eyes focused on the reddish cloud that was expanding magically throughout the container until it was entirely diffused. Then the red liquid began to slowly form tiny droplets too thick to be held in suspension. Already a tiny film of particles was beginning to form on the bottom of the container as the stone began to solidify itself.
"Amazing," Hermione said breathlessly. "Think of all we can learn from this stone's power."
"What do you mean?" Harry asked.
"With the stone enhancing our powers we can attempt spells that would be otherwise impossible," Hermione said eagerly. "Even more, we can conduct all kinds of experiments with the aid of the panacea, even experiments that would normally be fatal. We can endlessly push the knowledge of magic past the bounds that anyone has so far conceived of."
"Hermione," Harry said slowly, "Maybe we shouldn't use the stone…"
Hermione's eyes focused on him again, as she suddenly became aware of his apprehension due to their link. "What are you talking about? This is an opportunity only a handful of people have ever had." Hermione said finally.
"Yeah, but that's the problem," Harry said. "Flamel didn't just come straight out and say that the stone was dangerous, but he came awful close, too close for my tastes. What if we start experimenting with it, using its powers and we get addicted or something?"
"Flamel gave it up when the time came," Hermione argued. Of course they didn't know that for sure. Dumbledore had indicated that Flamel made the decision on his own, but it was always possible that the once powerful headmaster had added in a little persuasion of his own.
"But why take the risk?" Harry replied. "Hermione, we don't need to do this kind of thing anymore. Voldemort's gone and I don't want to end up like Flamel…outliving all our friends and…how would we even consider ever having a family?"
Hermione felt like an icy spike had driven itself through her heart as she took in his words. Her eyes traveled down to the bracelet on her left arm and imagined how it would feel to know she could never take it off. If they used the immortality of the stone then they could never have a family. If they did they would be faced with the choice of either making their kids immortal or else outliving them too and that was something no parent would ever consider. The problem would snowball from there as each generation piled up endlessly, the natural order broken, and that might have an effect beyond the obvious drawbacks. Using magic to change such a fundamental part of the world's order might potentially result in calamity beyond their ability to predict.
"I…you're right," Hermione said finally. Her eyes darted back to the still forming stone. "We'll have to find some place where we can safely store the stones after we've finished extracting enough Elixir for its medical applications and become accustomed to the magic enhancing properties."
"We'll also need to watch, like Dumbledore apparently has, for someone to whom we can pass off the secrets of the stone to," Harry said.
"We've got a long time before we need to worry about that," Hermione said. "At least we better."
"Don't worry," Harry chuckled lightly as he pulled Hermione away from the stone. "You're stuck we me for a long time."
"I'll hold you to that," Hermione said softly.
"Come on, let's check on your other experiments," Harry said.
"I was worried you might want me to give those up too," Hermione said cheekily.
"I know when to quit," Harry said dryly. Hermione's curious nature was one thing Harry loved about her so much, despite her tendency to get carried away sometimes.
They descended down to the dungeon area hand in hand with an air of comfortable familiarity that they had enjoyed for some time, but that had intensified following their union. Harry relished the soft warm feel of her hand on his and the soothing nature that her presence always brought out in him. Likewise Hermione, whenever she allowed her mind to dwell on it, was almost overwhelmed by happy giddiness that Harry was finally safe and that they were finally together.
"This is the stuff that Bellatrix tried to use on you?" Harry asked when they approached the first cauldron of bubbling substance.
"I don't think she actually tried to use it on me so much as on herself," Hermione said. "It's a powerful acidic poison that can be safely stored inside your body and then activates once expelled and exposed to the air. There's a spell book around here somewhere with the accompanying charm needed to keep it from unintentionally harming the user…"
"This place is a bit of a mess," Harry said as he poked around at the piles of paper. Voldemort's old belongings had been moved out and stored in another part of the mansion for detailed study at a later time so that they could use the room for their own devices. Since then many of the books they had culled from the library along with many other magical tools and potion ingredients had piled up in an unorganized fashion that was actually rather atypical. Harry supposed that they were entitled to be a bit more lax since this was supposed to be their vacation honeymoon after all.
"I'll look it up later, the potion isn't quite ready yet," Hermione said. Harry grinned as she eagerly bounced over to the next cauldron and started stirring it with her wand. It was the formula for the enchanted mist that they Harry had first encountered during the final stage of the Triwizard Tournament and that they had later used to prevent pursuit on foot or to block off narrow spaces from being easily traversed. They had decided that peace or not it would be wise to keep their arsenals stocked with the potions and other tools that had served them so well during the Prophecy War.
"The restoration potion looks ready," Harry said as he inspected another cauldron. He conjured a rack of small glass vials and a measuring ladle. "I'll go ahead and pour it up while you're checking on everything else."
By the time the young couple had finished their work and ascended back up to the parts of the mansion that were above ground the day had begun to dim to twilight. Even though the magical lighting emitted a reassuring glow there was something about the large mansion that made Harry feel ill at ease. Sometimes it almost felt as if there were other things in there watching them even though he knew that was impossible. They had specifically ensured that no creature, magical, mundane, or otherwise had found its way into the premises.
"What are you doing now?" Harry asked once they were back in the room where they were forming the stones. She had picked up Flamel's journal again and was thumbing through the last few pages.
"We're supposed to observe it as it coalesces," she said. "I was hoping that there might be some more information appearing by now."
"Sometimes I get the feeling that Flamel expects whoever reads his journal to pick up a lot of meaning between the lines," Harry observed.
"Probably out of some desire to keep people who don't have the knowledge or skills to build a stone from scratch from being able to easily do so with his help," Hermione said cynically. She had a point though. It seemed to be common practice in the magical world to explain little more than the basics in explicit detail. Everything else was usually taught with the attitude that the student should figure it out for herself with a few hints or not at all.
Harry flicked his wand to rearrange the furniture so that a small sofa was positioned right in front of the apparatus responsible for forming the Sorcerer's Stone. The stone had already begun to solidify in an irregular mass at the bottom of both containers. He could see the stone looked somewhat different than the one that had briefly come into his position so many years ago at Hogwarts. Though he had been busy facing Voldemort at the time Harry still remembered how that stone had a consistent color throughout its misshapen structure. The stones before them now, however, were a deep bloody red at their core and a lighter almost pink color toward the edges.
"Why do you think its forming like that?" Harry asked after he mentioned the inconsistency to Hermione.
"Flamel mentioned it briefly," Hermione said, her eyes accusing Harry of not paying close enough attention.
"You can't blame me for being distracted when trying to concentrate on you," Harry said suggestively. His arm pulled Hermione's small frame closer against his own thin figure.
"Flatterer," Hermione giggled. Harry had the feeling that she had set him up to compliment her, not that he mined at all. "Anyway, if you can concentrate I'll explain it again. Flamel said that the stone forms in such a way that emphasizes pressure with the center of the stone being the most under pressure, the most condensed, and thus the most useful part of the stone. He cut away the parts that weren't as red so that only the powerful parts of the stone were left."
"So that way there's nothing to interfere with the reaction," Harry said.
"Right," Hermione replied. "Actually, there is another incarnation of the stone even more suitable to use in alchemic sorcery than the stone Flamel produced, but apparently the only gem smiths with the skill needed to cut such a powerful item are goblins."
"That's great," Harry exclaimed. "Our flasks were made by a goblin master smith. We can get them to make the final cutting then."
"Well, Flamel warns against it, but I was already considering doing it anyway," Hermione said.
"Why would Flamel warn against it?" Harry asked. Surely if the purpose were to present the strongest defense against rogue sorcerers then Flamel would see the worth of making the stone as refined as possible.
"Flamel claims that the goblins can't be trusted with it, that they would abuse it to make endless amounts of gold," Hermione explained. "I looked it up in another book on magical races and it explains that goblins have a gold lust that over rides their reason, but I'm beginning to think its old fashion wizard prejudice."
"There might be some truth to it though," Harry said thoughtfully. "If not by nature then perhaps by hundreds of years of conditioning like the house elves..."
"Except that goblins haven't been under the thumb of wizard kind for hundreds of years," Hermione said. "Besides, no goblin could ever hope to withhold the stone from us. Collectively the goblins can put up a stiff enough resistance to make the wizards shy away from open conflict, but one on one no goblin can stand up to a competent wizard."
"I'm surprised Professor Bins never mentioned that in magical history when he talked about the Goblin Wars," Harry said, referring to the supposed greedy nature of the goblins.
"Would you have known if he had?" Hermione teased lightly. "The goblins tend to get a fairer shake because they could cause some serious problems if offended too badly. Just imagine if banks started closing their doors or calling up unpaid debts. Even the wealthy purebloods wouldn't be immune to the financial stress."
"Well, I for one trust the goblins after everything they've done for us," Harry said. "They've always been discrete in business transactions. We didn't have a single safe house or other location leaked even when the money was directly transferred for a purchase."
"They didn't try to gouge us either, even though they knew we had no choice but to conduct almost all of our transactions through them," Hermione said. "As I recall they even waved some of the minor fees that the Ministry collects that might have possibly been traceable to what we were doing had our names appeared on the payment."
Hermione set the old journal aside and sighed contentedly as she settled back into her favorite spot beneath Harry's arm. She always relished the time they could spend together simply doing nothing after all the countless weeks of exhausted frenzied action that they had shared over the last several years.
"I wonder if those sorcerers are really still out there," Harry mused as he ran his fingers through Hermione's bushy hair.
"I don't know," Hermione replied idly, "I doubt it. If they haven't done anything in all these years then they probably won't start now."
"I wish Flamel had discussed them more," Harry said wistfully. He really didn't like the idea of a strange powerful pair who might for reasons unknown decide to launch an attack at any random time or on the other hand never show themselves again for the rest of their lives.
"I got the impression that he knew more than he let on," Hermione said, but she didn't elaborate. It was a pity that Flamel had died not too long after the destruction of his original Sorcerer's Stone and thus was no longer around to question more thoroughly.
"So you keep saying," Harry replied dryly. He decided to change the topic. "So how long is this final stage supposed to take again?"
"It varies," Hermione said vaguely as she ruffled through the journal a bit more. "Basically all that liquid will eventually squeeze into the stone."
"You mean it isn't going to get any bigger than it already is?" Harry said, trying to recall that particular part of the book.
"Maybe a little," Hermione said. "You know how vague and contradictory Flamel was."
Harry certainly did remember. That was why he couldn't be bothered to keep all the details straight now. With Flamel it was always 'this will happen, unless this does,' or 'expect this stage to react differently each time you proceed through it,' or some other equally unhelpful description.
"Anyway, I doubt it will take much longer now," Hermione said. Already the liquid in the beakers had dropped by around a third from their original level. "As soon as it's finished I was thinking we might go visit my parents."
"Oh?" Harry asked mischievously as he nuzzled Hermione's neck. "Bored of your new husband already are you?"
"Maybe you'll just have to try harder to keep me entertained," Hermione said suggestively as Harry trailed kisses up her neck until planting one lightly on her lips. "Seriously though, I think we should make sure that the new house is well protected just to be on the safe side. It isn't that I don't trust the wizards who were going to set up the defenses, but I'd feel better if we gave them an inspection personally."
"Their new house is being built to look exactly like the old one right?" Harry asked as his hands roamed in a very distracting way.
"Yeah," Hermione said breathlessly.
Harry stopped what he was doing and smirked at her. "So, still bored?" he asked teasingly.
"Come on," Hermione said as she dragged him toward their bedroom. "You'd better finish what you started or you're going to be bored for a very long time."
Harry just smiled and followed.
AN: Feedback is always appreciated.