Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters.

The Keeper of Secrets.

Once Zach had told his father the vision again, the older man left the room and went to talk to Dumbledore once more. The teen stayed on the couch, thinking about what he had seen the night before.

What should he do? He had the Book in his possession, but he somehow doubted that Voldemort had been talking about his copy; after all, no one knew he had it. Harry frowned, if they thought that there was another copy lying around somewhere, he would have to warn someone. Closing his eyes, he thought back to the old woman he had briefly known many years back. She had moved into Prived Drive when he was seven. As usual, his aunt had gone to visit her and offer her help in all she could, which usually meant that Harry would be doing all the work. Surprisingly, the old woman had gratefully accepted his aunt's help, and they had quickly arranged for him to go help her each evening for a few hours. It seemed the old lady was well off and had payed his aunt quite a bit for his help.

Harry had accepted it, as he usually did such things, guessing that the woman could not be any worse than his own aunt. The next evening, after school, he had gone directly to her house. He had been fairly surprised when she ushered him to the kitchen, and instead of ordering him to start cleaning, she offered him a glass of milk and a biscuit, mentioning that he was way too thin. While he ate, she told him that she was perfectly able to take care of herself; she just had wanted some company. She kindly asked if he would mind spending his evenings with her. Of course, Harry had quickly reassured her that it was fine, after all, it was either that or work at home. After that, she introduced herself as Lady Rose and that was what he had kept calling her, no matter that at the time he didn't know where the lady came from.

She always ordered him to complete his homework first and then they spoke. At first, it was mostly about school or how their day had gone, but as trust grew, she started to tell him stories. Wonderful stories about wars and dragons and heroes. He longed to hear them, even if his younger self was sure that they were just the product of the imagination of an old woman. Without even noticing, the old woman started to teach him many things about the old stories, quizzing him every day to see if he remembered them correctly. At the time, he had considered it a game and had done his best to commit everything she said to memory. The winter after his ninth birthday, Lady Rose fell ill. It wasn't bad, the doctors said it was just a cold, and they considered it normal for someone her age, but something seemed to change that day. Harry, worried, spent all his waking time with her, and the Lady changed her histories for language lessons. Harry took the flowy language in; it had a nice ring, and the woman forced him to learn it for hours, reciting the strange, exciting words or writting in the small, curvy characters.

The day of his tenth birthday she took him down to the house's basement. There was the hugest library he had ever seen and all the books seemed to be written in the language he had been learning. That was the first time that he seriously considered that maybe all those stories were much more than the ramblings of an old woman. He could still remember the conversation they had had in the dark basement.

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"Are you impressed, young one?"

She rarely called him by his own name, and while at first he had been pretty annoyed at it, as he was not so young after all, now he accepted it as the pet name it was.

"It's huge, Lady Rose, are they all written in Draconian?"

The woman nodded sitting down on a worn, leather couch. "Yes, they are. Now listen to me, young one." Harry sat on the ground in front of her and looked at her intently; it must be serious if she asked for him to listen. "In the last few years I have been teaching you the base of my knowledge, not many people know about what I have explained you, and to my knowledge, you are the only one of them that is human." She paused for a moment and then continued. "When I came to live here, I knew I had few years left, but I didn't want to leave this world without passing on as much of my knowledge as possible. There is something special about you and you're still young, I chose you because I think you will use the knowledge wisely if you ever need it."

Harry frowned, he didn't like the implications of her words; was she really going to die so soon? He tried to find something comforting to say but she didn't give him the chance.

"All these books are going to be for you when I die, which I suspect will not be long coming. You are the only one able to read them, except for the wingueds, but they will not interfere with you unless something threatens their own existence."

While his mind tried to get around the fact that Lady Rose was telling him that the wingueds were real, the woman took an old, worn book from the shelf. She extended it to him, and he took it in shaky hands.

"This book is a communication book, there is only another one in existence; Lady Charle, Ruler of the Wingueds has the other one. If you ever need to let the wingued know something, write it on this book in the old language; they will answer if necessary."

Harry nodded lightly, but then he looked around the huge basement, remembering something she had told him before. "Lady Rose?"

The woman smiled kindly down at him. "Yes, young one?"

"You said all these books were for me?" The woman nodded. "But I won't be able to keep them! The Dursley won't allow it; they will throw them away."

The woman smiled softly at him and stood up. "Come here, Child."

Harry went with her to one side of the room. There he saw a small crystal. Lady Rose put a frail hand over it and softly she said: Maiolams, the Draconian word for close. To his amazement, the whole basement started to glow, and in a few seconds, only the crystal remained in the woman's hand, it was glowing softly with a purple light. She handed it to him.

"In this thiny crystal rests the knowledge of a whole world; I will keep it with me until I die, and then it will go to you and only you will be able to make it obey." Taking the crystal back, she placed it once again against the wall and said: Slamishun, which meant open, and the library reapeared as if it had never been gone.

"Amazing."

The woman laughed softly, and she led them to one of the shelves placed in the center of the room. "Do you see these books, young one?"

She pointed to the three beautifully bound books. Harry nodded lightly. "These three are the true gems of this collection." Pointing to the blue one, she continued with her speech, adopting her lecturing tone. "The blue one is the Dragons World, it explains all the secrets of the dragons gathered through the years by all the Dragoons, while it's more imformative than useful; there is no other copy of it." Pointing to the one next to it, she continued. "This green one is the Book of Magic; it talks about the old magic, on one side, the one that is used by wingueds and on the other, the magic used by half wingueds, meaning wizards. It's self-updating so any knowledge will be logged in it. This is a very powerful book; in the wrong hands, it could cause a lot of damage." Finally, she pointed to the silver book. "The last one if the Book of Magic, this contains all I have been telling you over the years; there are several copies around the world and while most people think it's a nice fiction book there are those that might believe in what it says." She turned to regard him seriously. "Should someone ever believe in this and try to once again awaken the power of the Dragoons or draw the wingueds out of hidding, the world would be put in danger. Guard this well, Harry, no one is to know you have this in your possession, and once you feel that you are about to leave this world, pass the knowledge to someone worthy of it."

Harry looked at her seriously before nodding his head solemnly. While he was still young, her teachings over the years had made sure that he understood how important this was to her. He might not understand how important it would become to guard the books, but to him, the importance of the knowledge to Lady Rose was enough for him.

The days that followed went by as if their chat in the basement had never happened. Lady Rose taught and Harry learned all he could. That winter, the woman fell ill again, and while at first the doctors were sure it was nothing serious, the illness slowly took over the woman. On the first of March, Harry was called out of class with the message that Lady Rose was dying and that she had asked for him. Forgetting his books, he rushed towards the house, tears already running down his face. His aunt was there with a doctor, but he ignored them both, quickly making his way to the woman's bedroom. Lady Rose smiled tiredly at him, and he went to sit down at her side.

"I'm glad you made it in time, young one."

Too chocked up with emotion, Harry merely nodded and took her pale hand. "Remember all I have told you, alright?"

He just sequeezed her hand, knowing that he had already promised it long ago and that she knew he would keep that promise. The woman closed her eyes, and slowly, she whispered. "Sing for me, my little Dragon."

Harry immediately understood which song she wanted. One summer she had taught him several religious songs and one of them she had called the Chant of Death; the old Dragoons believed it helped the souls to reach the after life. Fighting back his tears and trying to regain his voice, Harry started to sing softly, pronouncing the strange words as she had taught him. He felt the grip of her hand getting weaker and her face relaxed as the pain that had been plaguing her for the last few days finally left her. Nevertheless, he continued with the chant, slowly forming the words and humming the sad melody. The song continued as Lady Rose took her last breath and lay still while he finished singing the song, praying that her soul had indeed found rest.

Harry closed his eyes tightly for a moment; he knew he still had something to do before he could break down. With tears falling down his cheeks, he left the room. The doctor looked at him sadly before entering the room with his aunt. Harry supposed that they knew that the old woman had died, but he didn't care. He headed to the basement and went to the book of comunication that had been left on the couch. With slightly trembling fingers, he took a pen and carefully wrote a message in the book:

'Lady Rose ax luijam, a ir jaku guv muidun yt xuqrujs.' (Lady Rose is dead; I am the new Keeper of Secrets)

Without waiting for reply, he closed the book and went to the crystal. As Lady Rose had once done, he whispered: Maiolam and he watched as the library reverted to its crystal form. Without a glance back, he left the house, intent to never return to it.

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Harry was roughly brought back from his memories when a gentle hand dried the tears he had not been aware were running down his cheecks. Looking up, he saw the concerned face of his father standing over him.

"Zach? What's wrong?"

The teen shook his head and quickly tried to dry the tears his father had missed. "Nothing, nothing's wrong."

Feeling that he wasn't going to get an answer out of him, the older man let the subject rest. Instead, he helped the teen up, knowing he was probably still feeling shaky due to the potion, and together they went to the table where dinner had already been served. Severus watched worriedly as Zach picked on his food, seemingly still lost in thought. He would have said something, if it hadn't been for the fact that his son was actually eating more now than he had seen him do in the last few days. Of course, that was probably because of the potion, but Severus wasn't about to complain.

Once Zach put his fork down, he looked up at the older man. He was glad that his father hadn't pressed him for answers, because he knew that he wouldn't be able to answer them. After Lady Rose had died, everyone seemed to forget about her. Harry suspected it had been because of the message he had sent that day, but he never bothered to find out. Sighing, he stood up, leaning heavily on the table. "I'm tired, can I go to bed?"

His father immediately jumped up and passed an arm around his waist. Without a word, Zach accepted the help, leaning heavily against the man. Severus felt his son snuggle against his side, and he couldn't help but feel even more worried. Until now, Zach hadn't looked for his affection, probably not knowing how to accept it, but now he clearly was. Willing to do what he could for his son, even if he didn't know what had upset him in such a way, Severus gently helped him into his pyjamas and to bed, tucking him in tightly and kissing his forehead as he had done a few nights before. Harry accepted it all with a small smile as he allowed his eyes to fall closed.

To be continued...

A/N: Thanks for all reviews and thanks to my beta reader, Vinnie.