Chapter 7 – A New World of Problems
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Part I
*Excerpts from 'Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets', 'Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire', by J.K. Rowling in this chapter. All credit goes to her. View Disclaimer in Section Titled "Disclaimer & Summary"*
The first rays of sun light peak through the horizon painting the land around Hogwarts Castle in a warm glow. Contrary to the peaceful dawn outside the castle's walls, a flustered Dobby and disapproving Nearly Headless Nick made their way to the Hospital Wing where a certain raven haired young man slumbers his worries away. Power-Walking, an impressive feat for a short house-elf like Dobby to accomplish without causing hysteria to run rampant amongst the other house-elves , both Nearly Headless Nick and himself transverse through marble staircases along corridors and past curious on-looking portraits who kept attempting to stop and interrogate the pair on recent happenings.
Crossing flights of stairs and through a set of ornate, Cherrywood double doors. At the far end of the Hospital Wing lies the Private complex, where Harry Potter slumbered, opposite to the entrance with a raised dais. The floor across the hall was made out of engraved Living Stone covered in protective runes , keeping the injured protected at all times. The hall itself was overlooked by an intricately carved gallery, at the other by a series of floor to ceiling cathedral windows allowing the warm rays of dawn to pour into the space. Small particles of essence could be seen beneath the dawn's first rays, floating aimlessly in space. The soft padding of Dobby's footsteps the only sound disturbing the harmony of the hall. Coming towards the only painting within the secure space, Dobby muttered, "Fortuna Mayor", before stepping through the paintings frame into a passage with a door at each end, one lead to the room Harry Potter slept in while the other lead into a more specialized-apothecary for emergency cases. (Nearly Headless Nick glided over the space and through the walls unencumbered by the same obstacles as the house-elf.) Rich tapestries decorated the passageway with historic deeds completed by Wizards and Witches across the ages.
Snapping his bony fingers together until golden sparks erupted across his skin, Dobby ran his hand across the ornamental iron door. As soon as his magic touched the surface, a clinking of massive hinges could be heard as the bolts, locks and nails retreated spreading the door wide open into a well-lit, comfterble chamber. The chamber itself was as large in length as the hall. Two cathedral floor to ceiling windows were located, one on each side, of a large fur covered bed in bold crimson-gold designs. On the left side of the chamber was a lit hearth under a louver (opening for the smoke to leave through). Attached to the chamber was an additional space for bathing services.
Soft snores reached the pairs ears as they further walked into the room. Dobby immediately scurried over to his Master's side before softly shaking his shoulder. When that gathered no response whatsoever, he did the next best thing.
'That hurts – get off – ouch –'
'Master Potter must wake up, sir!'
'Stop poking me –' he croaked, burying his head beneath a mountain of warm, cozy and inviting furs.
'Dobby must poke Master Potter, sir, he must wake up!'
Harry opened his bleary eyes. He was in the Private Section of the Hospital Wing; the warmth of his furs quickly abated as they slipped off his head as he'd been roused, and the side of his face was riddled with creased fur indentations.
He sat up, stretching his incredibly sore muscles, blinking in the bright daylight. A cloud of confusion settled as a thick haze over his thoughts. 'What happened?' Harry cocked his head to the side, looking at Dobby for an answer.
'Master Potter needs to hurry and get dressed!' squeaked Dobby.
'The Funny-eared and short-hairy men will be gathering in the Grand Hall in ten minutes, and Master Potter –'
'Funny-eared? Short-hairy men? Ten minutes?' Harry croaked. 'Ten – ten minutes?' Harry rubbed his bandaged hands over his tired face, feeling the beginnings of a headache approaching. Closing his eyes in an attempt to gather his thoughts , Harry remembered the thrilling encounter with the Dragon , following the Natives , going into a trance-like state and being chased by foul inbreed house-elf-goblins. Groaning loudly and slumping back against the bed, Harry tried to convince himself of never seeing the expressions of awe on the fair-haired and short-statured Natives.
"By Merlin's Beard!" Harry hissed as a throbbing pain demanded his attention. Resting his weight on his elbows, Harry leaned forward before lifting his striped pajama shirt (when did he get changed?), a long herbal-smelling bandage was wrapped tightly across his abdomen. Pressing a tentative touch on his wound, Harry examined the damage before deeming it healed enough to proceed with his investigative inquiry and information gathering.
Rising again, this time with more caution, Harry dangled his legs on the side of the bed. Getting the blood flow to circulate through his legs and warm his too-cool to be healthy skin. Feeling aches and pains throb through his entire being, he felt stiff as if he had spent an entire week under the 'Petrificus Totalus' charm in the same slouched position. 'That can't be right. I must have spent at least a day recuperating after the magical exhaustion dragged me under.' He reasoned while gazing out of the window only to see the sun rise into the clear sky above. "Dobby, how long have I been in the Healing Hall?"
"Three days Master Potter has been asleep. Dobby has been taking care of Master, yes Dobby has yes, Kreacher has seen to Master Potter's guests and has been keeping them to the Healing Hall and Grand Halls until Master has awoken." Dobby rattled off, bobbing his head up and down causing his ears to flap uncontrollably against his temple. "After Dobby heard Master call for help, Dobby and the centaurs rode to aid Master. We found Master wounded and surrounded by strange creatures. Dobby thought it best to bring Master back to Hogwarts Castle for healing. Dobby only wished to help Master yes he did. Did Dobby do the right thing with bringing the strange creatures to the castle too? They seemed to be in need of help and did not give out any malicious magical energy towards Master at all." Dobby nervously tattered away, tugging against his clothes anxiously, staring diligently at his feet and avoiding meeting Harry's eyes. Harry thought back on the precarious situation the Natives found themselves in and how desperately they fought to protect their home and own. "It's not so different from his own actions during the war. Not to forget I ran headfirst towards it." Harry looked down at Dobby, reaching a hand out and rubbed his ears soothing the nervous house-elf.
"You did good Dobby. Real good." Harry murmured fondly. "Always coming to my rescue in hopeless situations. What will I do without my friend?" Dobby leaned into Harry's palm and nuzzled it, hazel eyes brimming with happy tears. 'Harry Potter freed Dobby, showed Dobby kindness and became Dobby's first true friend. When Master and Friend calls for aid, Dobby always comes.' Harry smiled warmly at the blushing house-elf, before rising to his feet. Holding his tender side, Harry made his way to the built in armoire on the right side of the room searching it's depths for appropriate attire before his 'meeting' with the Natives. After a few minutes and annoyed mutterings from the young wizard, Dobby inched forward and began searching for his Master's clothes. "I have it under control Dobby."
Dobby nodded his head appeasingly with a slight curl of his lip. "Dobby knows sir. Dobby wishes to help is all. Helping our Masters in anything 'tis part of the house-elf's duty, sir. We keeps their secrets and our silence, sir, we upholds the family's honor, care for our Master's needs and we never betray them". As soon as the words left his lips, Dobby pulled out a mountainous heaps of clothes. Harry arched an eyebrow in silent question. While Dobby tutted and discarded the fabrics not up to par. Meanwhile Nearly Headless Nick remained silently brooding in the corner. Feeling an intense glare aimed at the back of his head, Harry turned his head to look over his shoulder. He wished he had ignored the creeping sensation. Upon establishing contact, Nearly Headless Nick became corporal once again and walked up to Harry. Hands firmly planted on his waist, Corporal Nick, silently stared into Harry's eyes. An intense air of disapproval emanated from Corporal Nick.
"Do you have any idea of the predicament you have caused?" Nick calmly said. In a way, it was worse than if he had yelled. The deadly calm was unsettling to Harry, he fought back the urge to take a step back and held his ground. He wasn't afraid of Nick in any way, Harry was more apprehensive at the level of displeasure the usually cheerful ghost currently displayed. "Our goal was to establish a secure area around the castle grounds and to find any 'awoken' magical creatures and bring them inside the castle's walls. For safety. The school's barriers are not up to full capacity, Head Master Potter. While the barriers may be able to keep dangerous land-borne creatures out, what's to say no air-borne one's could fly above the half-raised portion, hmm?" Corporal Nick nodded his curly head in silent agreement with himself, before about facing and pacing the room. "According to the centaurs, a malicious burst of magical essence was coming steadfast in the direction of the lonely mountain miles away from our current location, what in the world of Merlin possessed you to leave the boundaries of the castles grounds?"
Harry looked down at his bandaged hands, contemplating on his response not having paid close enough attention to Nearly Headless Nick's usage of 'Head Master Potter'.
"It is difficult to explain the exact reasons of my actions…This new land holds mysterious creatures and magical stores that may pose a threat to all gathered here. Where we could have ignored the malevolent power surge of essence, we could have additionally brought a dangerous foe closer to our half-shielded halls." He began, Dobby motioned for him to undress. Obliging the unusually silent house-elf, Harry continued his reasoning, "With the centaur's confirmation and skittish behavior, I could not risk allowing anything dangerous to reach us if it completely decimated the surrounding civilized areas. Moreover, there was this strange sensation lulling me forward." He hesitated, Corporal Nick stopped his pacing and looked in his direction curiously. "It was a compelling 'pull' of sorts, it called out to my magic like a conscious living organism calls for help in dangerous situations. The desperation and agonizing pain its cry for help held…." Harry stopped, breathing deeply before shrugging his arms out of his pajama shirt, carefully maneuvering around his banded abdominal side. "I could not have ignored the pull, it would be immoral and cruel. If I have the power and capacity to help, then why not use it to help the innocent and defenseless?" Dobby handed him a stark-white shirt with an oblique asymmetric stand collar. Nearly Headless Nick remained silent, pondering his words and rubbing his stubble chin. Slowly buttoning his shirt, Harry thought over his latest adventure before settling on tortured cyan eyes and the hysterical cries of the wounded.
With a heavy sigh Corporal Nick folds his hands behind his back and nods in ascension. "While I reckon your reasons to be justifiable and honorable, I must insist on this aspect at least." Harry nodded for him to continue while grabbing the black fabric Dobby held out to him. "When you were repairing the connection between the reservoir …" Nick began. Harry held out a hand while the other rested at his side.
"Let's not mention that bloody fiasco yet, it is too early in the morning too break down and analyze the circumstances which stranded us here."
Corporal Nick concurred before starting up again, "Very well, I shall be straight forward as a result." Nick straightened himself and tensed his shoulders as if preparing for a reprimand from Harry. "The Sorting Hat has been molded into the new anchor, the reservoir is stable and no longer in need off scheduled monitoring for it has established a more profound link with a living host." Harry felt the blood drain from his face at Nick's insinuation. "When the explosion occurred it affected all within the enclosed area, most significantly, those who were within arm distance. As a consequence, the house-elves Dobby and Kreacher, are able to practice higher –level magic, while I am able to morph my very being into both corporal and semi-corporal forms. As the one who held the Sorting Hat while repairing the rift within the reservoir, it is concluded…you are the living anchor for Hogwarts Castle. Therefore, you are the living embodiment for Hogwarts. You are her chosen Head Master and protector. You are her heart and voice." Nick sincerely intoned.
Harry was left speechless. Opening and closing his mouth in vain. Thousands of thoughts raced through his mind, trying to comprehend the enormity of it all. At the foremost of his mind his thoughts screamed over the unfairness of it all, the complete irony of the situation was not lost on him. Here he was, trying to repair his only home, only to be screwed over by said home. Granted, it was a horrible accident that lead to his current situation but his irrational self-did not seem inclined to be reasoned with in this particular moment. If Harry understood correctly, which he undoubtedly did, as Hogwarts Living anchor he is essentially immortal. As long as magical essence courses through Hogwarts Living stone and therefore through his very being, he can't die. Harry can bleed and feel pain. He could receive nourishment and suffer from hunger pangs. But he could never, truly die. As Hogwarts chosen Head Master, which meant all of the magical creatures lives where in his hands. The responsibility for their continued existence in this strange new world rested solely on his burdened shoulders.
It truly wasn't enough for him to be Master of the Hallows, The Boy Who Lived, Savior of the Wizarding World, and Vanquisher of the Dark Lord. He was an anchor to one of the most abundant magical stores of pure essence the magical world has ever created.
Tom Marvollo Riddle feared death with a burning passion. Spending years of his life searching for ways to outrun death by divulging in the Dark Arts. Tearing his soul apart and storing them in objects to prolong his miserable existence.
And all the while, Harry Bloody Potter only had to be holding the Sorting Hat and beneath the reservoir, at exactly the right place and time, and wait for a magical explosion to make him immortal. Brilliant. Truly brilliant.
Harry laughed disbelievingly startling both Dobby and Corporal Nick. "The irony of it all…" Harry explained when he calmed down, voice thick with slightly hysterical mirth.
"Mr. Potter?" Nick ventured.
"As if I didn't have enough to go through during the past few years…" a chuckle escaped him, "even after the war and the constant hero-worshipping was nothing compared to this….this twist of fate!" Harry laughed again, holding his injured side.
Shaking his head in utter denial and disbelief, Harry looked down at himself before deciding on taking everything in stride. "Well…it's not like I bloody hell have a say or a way to reverse it now do I?" he asked no one in particular. Corporal Nick, hesitantly nodded, feeling compassion for the young man before him. Indeed he too saw the irony of it all, but he also hoped for Harry to be able to see the hidden blessing this unexpected gift bought him. By being immortal and Head Master to the magical creatures, he could live a relatively tranquil life within the Castle Grounds, explore the nearby lands and invest in gaining insurmountable amounts of knowledge away from the clamor and constant pestering of the Wizarding World. He could only hope that in time the young man could grow to love and cherish his new position.
Buttoning up his black, slim fit trouser pants with pockets on either side, Harry held out his hand for the burgundy fabric in Dobby's hands. Cautiously placing one arm inside each hole, Harry tugged on the fabric getting comfterble in the awkwardly formal attire he was 'forced' to wear. Glancing in a nearby mirror above a modest vanity table, he took stock of his profile. The burgundy colored fabric turned out to be a slim-fit mid-thigh robe, similar to a muggle's version of a modern casual blazer. Running terse fingers through his bed hair, Harry tousled the ink strands above the top of his head before trying to tame the long fringe of chaotic strands to a semblance of order before foregoing it completely and resting his hand at the short cut on his nape. 'What has my life turned into?' he mused acerbically. "Master Potter, your wand holster and your wand." Dobby held out said items at him. "Thank-you Dobby." Harry pulled up the sleeve of his arm and methodically tied the holster against his pale skin. He grabbed the Elder Wand and felt a prickling sensation across his skin, it oddly felt as if skeletal phalanges were tenderly caressing him. Stifling a shudder in the making, he placed the Elder Wand in the hoister before covering it up with the burgundy dyed sleeve. A loud chime echoed across the castle signaling the start of breakfast in the Grand Hall. "Come Master Potter, Dobby will accompany Master to the breakfast meeting with the funny-earned and short-hairy creatures. Dobby will even promise to bring English Blueberry muffins to Master first thing!" A large weight settled inside his stomach, Harry could feel the 'hero-worship' about to take place. It was a possible fear of his, it could amount to being worse this time around than in the Wizarding World as a whole. 'Come, Harry Potter!' squeaked Dobby, plucking at Harry's sleeve. 'You is supposed to be down by the Great Hall with the others, sir! We are already late!'
'It's hopeless, Dobby, for I fear the Natives would only go searching for me sooner rather than latter' Harry said hopelessly. 'I'm not going to hide in my own home or be cowed into hiding. Let the story of my life return with a vengeance. I don't know why I even bother trying to live a normal life –'
'Harry Potter will live a normal life!' squeaked the elf. 'Dobby knew Harry had not wanted to be worshipped so Dobby has told the others in castle to treat him as normally as possible! Dobby will make Master happy and have a normal life! Dobby does it for him!'
'What?' said Harry.
'Dobby will make Master's wishes come true yes he will! Dobby will also take him to see the wounded after he has fed Master! Especially the wounded one with Master's magic around him like a cocoon.'
'Cocoon? But I don't recall every 'cocooning' anyone! Are you sure it's a 'magical cocoon'–'
'Dobby knows, sir! Master Harry Potter has to go into the Healing Hall and find his Crispy-Earl! –'
'Find my what?'
'– and tend to his Crispy-Earl's rash from the Wyrm!'
'What's a Crispy-Earl?'
'Your Crispy-Earl, sir, your Crispy-Earl – Crispy-Earl who is red all-over with cyan eyes!'
Dobby turned a corner leading them both deeper into a secluded hall with dozing sleeping portraits.
'What?' Harry gasped. 'He's here…He's within my Healing Halls?'
'The thing Master Harry Potter will want to see most, sir!' squeaked Dobby. 'And past a brief breakfast meeting–'
'– "The Hollow's Sleep",' Harry recited, staring, horror-struck, at the elf, '"I must make my way towards him. Merlin knows what the Hollow's Sleep could do to the Native..." Dobby – what've I got to do?'
'You has to eat, sir!' squeaked the elf, and he put his hand against the double doors leading into the Great Hall spreading them open. All whispered conversations ceased and every foreign fair and dark head turned in unison, similar to porcelain dolls in Halloween, silently staring at him. Harry was inadvertly glad for having the foresight to place his clenched hands inside his trousers pockets. Keeping them from shaking (out of anxiety) in front of foreign and possibly future enemies, line of sight.
'Right before you go and visit the Healing Hall, sir –English Blueberry Muffins!' Dobby confidently lead them towards the lone front table where in previous years Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape and others dined. Harry was distinctly aware of how, when he passed the Natives would rise and bow lowly before him muttering, "Eruchil" reverently. Keeping up appearances, Harry nodded slightly in acknowledgement. It seemed to be the correct source of action since the Natives beamed up at him. In some cases, the farther down he and Dobby walked, the more of 'worshipping' behavior increased. It was particularly testy for Harry to school his features when one Native, possibly a mere human man, went so far as to kneel before him and graciously thanked him for saving his brother's life. At least, that is what Harry managed to make out from how fast the man spoke and motioned with his hands to the man next to him. It was a strange form of Old English in which they spoke. The dialect of this new world was one closely related to that of Great Britain, the only differences in enunciation Harry could immediately point out, would be the pronunciation of 'th' and 'r' in certain phrases. Once at the head table, Dobby lead him towards the main seat, dreadfully Harry sat upon Professor Dumbledore's chair, once settled, all of the Natives sat down once again and presumably waited for Harry to begin eating his meal. Courteous of them. He felt like a strange creature being examined by them. Every move he made was carefully observed and catalogued in their minds. Harry valiantly hid his growing unease and irritation. 'The Wizarding World all over again.' He thought morosely, as he ate as quickly as he could without drawing the suspicions of the dining Native's before him.
'Dobby,' said Harry once he finished his meal, 'listen – once you lead me towards the man under the Hollow's Sleep, I want you to contact Firenze. Tell him to scout the grounds and to pay close attention to the wandering Natives as they venture around the castle. Have Kreacher place 'Confundo' charms on every hall that does not lead to the Great Hall, Healing Hall and the Common Area. We cannot afford for any accidental mishaps from either party until we know for sure if they pose no threat to us.' He couldn't quite forget that the last time he trusted a professor, much less a foreigner had tried to murder him, and he had ended up with a stone scythe choking the life out of him in the middle of a cemetery witnessing the resurrection of Lord Voldemort.
'Dobby will make sure, sir!' said the elf earnestly. 'Dobby understands things, sir, he is a house-elf, he goes all over the castle as he lights the fires and mops the floors, Dobby heard Nearly Headless Nicolas tell other house-elf's in the staff room, talking about the safety precautions… Dobby cannot let Master Harry Potter be in danger or lose his Crispy-Earl!' Harry nodded in gratitude keeping an eye on the whispering Natives. Throughout his and Dobby's conversation he had not seen any recognition or suspicion creep on anyone's faces. In fact, he theorized, while the human men could somewhat understand his own version of English, he reckoned the fair-haired and short-statured Natives were not fluent in it. A gift in it of itself.
Harry's paranoid-doubts decreased slightly. Standing to his feet he pulled off the chair, grabbed his chalice of Pumpkin Juice and nodded his regards at the on looking Natives. They returned the gesture, but remained staring at him in curiosity. Dobby lead the way once again, with Harry taking occasional sips of his Pumpkin Juice to stall off the increasing bundle of nerves in his stomach. Once done with his drink Harry waved his free hand across the surface of the chalice and watched in startled confusion as the chalice disappeared. He had not been confident enough to believe his wandless magic could work without a dangerous life-or-death situation encouraging him to do so. An interesting new development he will further study and hone in case, in a very highly unlikely situation, where the Elder Wand is not functioning properly. Dobby traced there steps and turned across corridors before stopping in front of double Cherrywood doors in the opposite direction of were the Private Healing complex was located.
'Dobby is going to be cataloguing the repaired areas and helping Kreacher place the 'Confundo Charms' around the castle, sir!' Dobby squealed. 'Dobby will answer when Master calls– good luck, Master Harry Potter, sir, good luck!'
'See you later, Dobby!' Harry responded before placing a cold hand upon the ornamental door handle and opening the door.
Occupied beds where lined up in symmetrical proportions front to back in the massive hall. Floating trays with neatly arranged poultices, bandages and potions circulated the room. A small group of house-elves wearing white pillow-cases with a small red cross boldly imprinted in the front labeled them as healing-apprentices. In stark contrast to the room Harry was in, everything was pale amber with clean linen, cozy and welcoming. The cathedral style windows were transfigured into a colorful surrey of moving tainted- glass depicting a half-immersed merwoman sunbathing atop a slanted rock.
Privacy screens were placed methodically around the area, obscuring the view of the more crucially wounded Natives from prying eyes. Two privacy screens in particular caught his attention immediately one was guarded by a handsome raven haired man about the same height of Harry, with strong, broad shoulders. Chiseled looks and a long narrow nose. A closely cropped beard outlined every chiseled aspect of the man's youthful face. Long intricate braids fell on either side of his face with silver beads braided within. Azure eyes were fixated on everything, watching, thinking, weighing his options within the room. Beside him stood a young fair-haired man with pointy ears peeking out of long blond hair, braided back from the sides. A faint outline of a gash barely visible on his hairless cheekbone. Long thick eye-brows, over expressive cyan eyes. Both Native's turned their attention to the hidden figure behind the screen. Harry could just make out the subcutaneous layer of skin from an unbandaged leg.
The other screen, from what Harry could see from his position, held a man. A pair of long skeletal-esque legs could be made out from the ends of the privacy screen. Black trousers and leather boots were the only things Harry could make out. Harry had the distinct sense of Deja-vu course through him momentarily before he ventured forward towards the 'guarded' privacy screen.
Unknown to him, his world and beliefs were about to change.
It was only a matter of time.
-LINE BREAK-
A/N: I had the worst scare of my life two nights ago. Can anyone guess what it was?
P.S…this chapter along with Part II got ERASED! x screams hysterically x I KNOW RIGHT! I pulled an all-nighter trying to resurrect the chapters. In the end I was only able to save a small portion of it so I had to rewrite it all again…Coincidentally, I like this version much better.
P.S.S. On another note, I had the strangest thing happen to me for the past few days. I've been having BURNT BACON for breakfast. Hmm….some juju out there hmm…you know who you are x cough x cough…LOL
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