Dreamer of Fears
By: Shadow Chaser
Chapter 31 – The Dreamer (Devil) You Know
In the end Harry told his friends everything, stopping short of mentioning the possession his counterpart went through to kill Regulus. His friends pressed sensing that he was keeping something from them, but Harry couldn't say it. It wasn't a compulsion telling him not to, but the sheer knowledge, the ugly fact. He did not know what stopped him from telling his friends. The Dreamer within him mourned too, but only offered him a sad-sort of comfort that did nothing to ease the ache in his heart nor the prickling pain of his scar.
"It might be the phoenix tear, Harry," Hermione had a large book in front of her as she sat in one of the squashy chairs in their room. She had instead, tried to figure out why and what was the cause of the connection between him and his counterpart.
"But why was I able to see into his mind before? And that one time before this when he invaded my mind?" Harry curled into the blankets that had been piled on him. He felt cold, as if he could never become warm again. It felt disgusting...almost worse than when Voldemort tried to possess him in his fifth year at the Ministry. He shivered as Ginny absently stroked his head.
The chocolate bar he had been given was already half gone, but Harry felt like he could not eat anymore, his stomach roiling at the overload of sweetness, empty of any other food except for that and water. The early morning light peeked through the windows conjured up in the Room of Requirement. But none of them slept, too awake with the knowledge and with the urgency to figure out why these connections kept happening.
"What else do phoenix tears do? Besides heal basilisk venom?" He asked as Ginny stopped her motion and lifted her hand from his head to turn the page on the first book they had been given when they first arrived. It looked like she was reading up on Salazar Slytherin – not the Hogwarts Founder, but rather the Knight of Merlin that had been like a close brother and best friend.
"Rowena says that even back in her time, the rarity of the phoenix tear meant that it was only used in the most dire of circumstances to bring those back from the brink of death alive. Even then, some times it didn't work as it seemingly calls to the soul of the dying to come back to the living. If the soul doesn't want to come back..." She trailed off, shrugging.
"The...Black Queen... I mean, I don't think he was dying," Harry felt small as he tried to remember what his counterpart looked like in the dreamscape. But images of his possession as a child kept him from the clarity he sought.
"I'm more disturbed by the possibility that our counterparts here could die," Ron suddenly spoke up, having been uncharacteristically quiet since they gathered around chairs.
"Ron?" Hermione placed her arms on the page of the tome she was reading and leaned forward.
"Well," Ron stroked his chin and Harry could see bits and pieces of Godric in his expression. It was an odd sight, seeing both Ron and Godric at the same time when he was used to seeing one or the other. "What happens if our counterparts die? Does that mean we're stuck here? That we can't pass on the Dreamer powers we have? I mean, it's good and all that we have to align the cores, but no one told us how. How we're supposed to do that; what are the hallmarks of aligning cores and so forth. I mean, we all saw Neville become Nathan, and he acts similar enough to Neville, but-" Ron looked up and gestured towards Hermione, "You and I only met our counterparts that one time on the Hogwarts Express."
Hermione nodded. Ron turned to Ginny, "I hate to say it Gin, but your counterpart...she's..."
"Different...I know," Ginny stopped her reading and had a frown on her face. "I met her twice. Once on the train and ran into her by chance a week or so ago in the halls."
"Can we ask the Weavers?"
"Do we even know how to summon them?"
"Dumbledore says that they wish for an audience. I get the feeling that they are the ones who call the Dreamers, not the other way around," Hermione replied quietly.
"What about Ignotus?" Harry spoke up, shivering in his pile of blankets. "Maybe Professor Lupin knows how to get in contact with them?"
"You're not going to ask Dumbledore?" Ron blinked. Harry noted that both Hermione and Ginny had neutral expressions on their faces. That was new...
"I...don't want to unless I really have to." The words came reluctantly tumbling out of his mouth.
"Why not?" Hermione asked, but it was not an accusation.
"I...don't know," he confessed. "It's not like I don't trust him, but I don't want to rely on him either." He looked at his friends. "Merlin, er, the Dreamer, won't say anything about Dumbledore when I ask him. Did...uh, did your Dreamers say anything about their previous...Keepers?"
"Images and impressions mostly. I get the feeling that some of it is quite private, but shown when necessary," Ginny replied, "I'm not sure what to expect with an Awakening..." She glanced at Hermione who shook her head.
"Wisdom, or rather Rowena doesn't really speak of Professor McGonagall. It's more like the dominant presence of Rowena and I get the feeling that it's because it's done to protect us from those who don't know who we really are – dimensional travelers. Magic that's still unknown, magic that was considered impossible until now."
Harry glanced at Ron who shrugged.
"Same. I tried asking about your Dad, Harry, but Godric, or rather Courage isn't saying anything. I'm wondering if it is because of the Trial to Awaken or whatever it is to Awaken a Dreamer of sorts." His brow furrowed for a second as he looked down before looking back up. "Godric's saying that to each generation of Dreamer is their own. We could ask, but the impressions of Dreamers are what the wizard or witch makes of them – whatever that means."
"Essentially we have to rely on ourselves?"
"Marius did say that the Trials were rather secretive and I get the feeling that previous Dreamers, even if alive, won't say anything. Maybe it's a test for Heirs?" Hermione speculated.
"How does us trying to make sure our counterparts don't die is a test?"
"Probably a test for them," Hermione continued, "but it still doesn't make sense then, why the Dreamers appeared in us and then are supposed to jump to our counterparts when we align. It would have made more sense if it just appeared in them first. Then we would not have been dragged into this world, right?"
Harry had to admit Hermione had a very good point. For all that had happened since their arrival in late June, there was always the nagging feeling that something had dragged them here against a will of sorts. Ignotus' mutterings during the Weavers' Council said as much and the argument during the Council proved as much.
"We should see if there's a way to talk to Ignotus..." Harry murmured quietly. "Maybe try to find out as much as we can."
"But how..."
The four of them fell silent before Harry realized there was a rather natural answer. "...Dad...er, James..."
"Harry?" Ginny prompted.
Harry unconsciously tightened the blankets around him as he considered his next words. He still felt the echoing ghost of his vision, of the words spoken before, of everything that's happened since their arrival in this world. It was true that Dumbledore had readily offered his counsel and told Harry that his door was always open to any questions he may have had, but his father's words to him at the Astronomy Tower resonated within him. The phoenix tear from Fawkes added to that. If a phoenix as loyal as Fawkes- He had to tell his friends.
"Dad...er, James-"
"We know, it's okay. We'll never judge you for getting attached, Harry," Hermione said softly and Harry nodded, grateful.
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Dad...doesn't trust Dumbledore." He waited a moment for an outburst, but when none was forthcoming, he looked up to see his friends staring at him expectantly – waiting for him to continue. In that moment, Harry also realized that long gone were the days where they would argue or debate each other. The war, revelations during the war, and the battles they all fought together gave each of them a voice and made their bonds of friendship tighter.
"He told me there is an Order of the Phoenix here, except it is secret. Only a handful of people are a part of it and it was created to serve the Dreamer of Hopes. Not Dumbledore, but the Dreamer of Hopes. It had been created by my Dad to specifically protect Mum, but in an effort to serve Hopes itself." He pressed his lips together and absently picked at a thread on a blanket that covered him. "Dad said it was created after Mum lost her powers as Faith, or at least I think it was. He said certain events forcing his hand. But the fact that he created it, didn't tell Dumbledore, tells me that he doesn't trust Dumbledore."
"Did he tell you why?"
"He said he had originally thought Hopes was supposed to be used sparingly, like Dumbledore apparently had been doing for a long time. But then Ignotus told him it wasn't. That Dumbledore was wrong to use Hopes so sparingly."
"Ignotus?"
"Yeah," Harry nodded. "Dad apparently looked at things differently after that talk. My guess is Ignotus went out of his way, like apparently he did when pulling us across dimensions, in order to change things. But he said he couldn't openly question Dumbledore's use of Hopes, because he had to protect his family first."
There was understanding in his friends' eyes. Ginny reached out and placed a hand on his back, rubbing it up and down in comfort. He smiled sadly at her before facing his friends again. "He said he formed it after the Veela Attacks of 1983."
"What kinds of gains have this Order made?" Godric's voice was gruff from Ron's mouth before the Dreamer seemingly let Ron back and his friend nodded in agreement.
"I don't know..." Harry admitted. "But the fact that they oppose how Dumbledore is using Hopes..."
"Any fracture in an alliance could be exploited by the Dark Lord and Black King." The words issued from Ginny's mouth, but it was Selwyn's regal tones that spoke. They looked at her. She had rarely said anything since their arrival and Faith's Awakening. Though there were the times when Harry knew Selwyn was taking over Ginny's body, she tended not to say much, only allowing her presence to be just that – a presence. Harry wondered if Ginny had somehow come to an agreement with the Dreamer within her; considering her circumstances and knowledge regarding entities possessing their bodies.
"This was what led to our Knights' downfall. Salazar was the first, myself the second." The former Knight of Merlin sounded sad, her imperious voice now full of regret. "Our alliance, our friendship fractured. Fears was able to exploit it all and we were defeated in the end. Camelot fell and Merlin died old and alone."
The Dreamer within Harry stirred, but there was no other reaction. Harry wondered if Merlin felt the same.
"I speak to you now as Faith itself. Wisdom and I did not wish for you, Heir to Hopes, nor you, Heir to Courage, to know of this secretive Order until you had fully Awakened." Selwyn folded her hands in front of her, straightening herself almost as an unconscious effort. "It is not through the lack of faith we have in you as Heirs; contrary to that you have shown yourselves otherwise. It is for your own protection."
"Protection?" Ron raised an eyebrow.
"Protection of both your mind and of the knowledge you will learn."
"Legilimency," Harry instantly picked up what Selwyn meant.
She nodded once, Ginny's red hair falling down her shoulders like a waterfall. "One aspect. We Awaken with the breadth and knowledge of our own protections against threats like Legilimency. Not foolproof, but enough that we are sensitive to many forms of magic. Another is to protect the Heirs as they undergo their Trials. Any knowledge given during a Trial that could change the Heir's perspective could forever taint the Heir. The same could be said that any knowledge gained after Awakening, could forever taint the Dreamer, but it is much harder as the Awakening of their full power proved they were able to undergo their Trials."
"That's why Heirs are scrutinized and why they take so much time. But once an Heir fully Awakens, it is very hard, almost impossible to turn them or to break them," surprisingly, it was Hermione who had taken up the narrative. Meanwhile, Ginny slumped slightly, her body relaxing from its regal posture and she blinked a bit as if coming out of a trance.
"Ginny and I've been studying the lore with Marius and there are only a handful of times when a full-fledged Dreamer renounced their powers and switched sides. There's been no recording of Sins switching powers of their own or of the Virtues among each other. It's always been sides."
"Harry, Ron," Hermione swallowed heavily as she looked back and forth at the two of them. "In this latest war, since the 1930s, there's been no known or recorded Dreamer switching sides. In fact, all that's known is that almost all the Virtues lost their powers. The only one that's stayed constant is Dumbledore as Hopes."
"What about the Sins?"
"That's the rub," Hermione grimaced, "we don't know. The only one we know for a fact is Grindelwald as Fears; Lucius Malfoy is Corruptions and now Bellatrix Lestrange as Lust. We know there's been a handful of Heirs, but even the chess pieces that the headlines speak of don't label. Marius speculates that a lot were just Heirs, Grindelwald picking through those who could succeed him as Fears or maybe not even."
"It's like a cold war," Harry realized what Hermione was trying to tell him.
"A what?" Ron looked confused, but Hermione nodded, her expression sad.
"Like the USSR and America if you want to look at it. Grindelwald and Dumbledore, they're treating this war like an arms race. Gathering the Dreamers, secreting them away, but any sort of open warfare is heavily discouraged. This war isn't like any of the others with the Dreamers. The people here have lived in so much fear, so lack of hope – even if it is sparingly – that this war's dragged on for two to three generations."
"Hence the headlines of chess pieces," Harry felt disgusted. Black Queen Takes Black Queen.
"The Founders Ball is a way to keep the neutrality, to keep the cold war going."
"Why?"
Hermione shook her head and out of the corner of his eyes, Harry saw Ginny do the same. "We don't know. We thought it was Dumbledore moving carefully, but it's clear that Grindelwald has the advantage. But Grindelwald's never pressed it. Marius thinks that if Grindelwald wanted to, because the people are so afraid, that Grindelwald could easily just take over this place, crush it all, win the war."
Harry twitched. "It's really that bad?" But he did not expect an answer as everything that had happened made so much more sense now. There was a desperate edge to everyone's actions, including those from his father, that he didn't realize had been hanging over them since their arrival. How people questioned them so sharply, but believed so easily. The were clinging onto them like a person without water for a long time.
The real question was – why Dumbledore used Hopes so sparingly to let it get to this point. And Harry knew he would not receive his answer from Merlin. At least perhaps not until he fully Awakened. He thought he would feel angry, or perhaps betrayed that once again, there was information that the Headmaster, or rather Minister, was keeping from him. But Harry felt nothing...almost empty in an odd sort of way.
He sighed, the shivers subsiding as he let the blankets fall a little away from him. "I'm beginning to think that we're probably never going to get a straight answer from anyone in this world," he muttered. A snort from Ron made his lips twitch in an ironic smile.
"Then let's figure out what we need to know, how to stop this war, and how to get back home after all that's said and done," Hermione said decisively.
Harry nodded in agreement. "I'll ask my Dad tonight to see how he got in touch with Ignotus. We can start from there."
"Ginny, can you help Marius with the research?"
"Yes."
"Ron, you and I are going to go look for our counterparts."
"Why? Can't we just ask-oh..." Ron trailed off as he grimaced. "Right...Dumbledore."
"Should we bring Professor Lupin into this?" Harry asked.
Ginny shook her head. "I think that's what Professor Lupin's been doing. Running interference when he can. He's the only Dreamer that's been active in recent years."
"Do you think he knows?"
"Probably," Harry replied, "I can talk with him today."
"Are you sure? You still look a bit peaky mate," Ron looked at him.
"I'll be fine," Harry replied, "just..." He did not know what else to say. He shed all of the blankets and reached over behind him where his trunk was. Pulling out the invisibility cloak, he wadded it and tossed it to both Ron and Hermione. "Here..."
"Thanks," Ron said as Hermione took the cloak and placed it in a small beaded bag.
"Extendable and weight charms," she hefted the small bag, almost the size of her palm, but small enough to tie around her wrist. "I got it when we got the dress robes. You know-"
"-Being prepared," Harry and Ron finished for her and she blushed pink. Ginny laughed lightly, lightening the serious mood a little. "How long do you think you'll be gone?"
"We'll stop by Cardiff first, probably ask if Neville knows where they are," Hermione said, "then we'll look around. I'm hoping about a couple of weeks, maybe less."
"Be careful," Harry cautioned and his friends smiled at him.
"We know...it's a different world out there, Harry. We'll be careful and also hopefully bring back some news and information." The two smiled in reassurance and Ginny reached out to squeeze his hand once more. The nightmare dreamscape that had woken him up was slowly fading.
Harry waited until after lunch to speak to Remus as he walked from the Great Hall to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Unlike the fanfare of the end of last school term in which Merlin and his Knights were introduced; the Battle at the Hogwarts Express, at least that was what it was called by both Ministries, had tempered the fanfare. Instead, the students, teachers Aurors and Ministry officials pointed and whispered as he passed by with a sense of recognition, not of celebrity awe.
"Professor Lupin?" He knocked on the door as he spoke up.
"Ah, Harry," Lupin greeted him straightening as he had been adjusting a few covered cages that were piled on top of each other. They rattled. "Cornish pixies. Pesky little things, but damn useful for my 6th and 7th Years to practice their stunners on."
"Never thought of them like that," he supposed that perhaps Gilderoy Lockhart did have an idea about Defense. Just not applicable to certain years.
"We're learning about precision firing in this first quarter or so for the 6th Years," Remus smiled a little. "The 7th, it's a review for them before we move onto more advance combination spells. Again, more precision wand work, but I want them to practice using variations of stunners or types of spells to disable their opponents."
"What about those that don't pass their NEWT?" Harry could not help himself, curious. This was certainly a very comprehensive curriculum, almost tailored through all seven years. Perhaps if there wasn't a curse on the DADA position, maybe this would have been the education he would have gotten.
"They get a comprehensive study on all manner of defensive spells, but I put more emphasis on the practical part of Defense Against the Dark Arts for my NEWT-levels." He folded his hands in front of him and nodded once. "Now them, I suppose you're not here to watch?"
"Actually...can I?"
"Of course," Remus beamed.
"Err..." Harry scratched the back of his head, suddenly embarrassed as he realized he did not know how to approach his next question. He sighed and decided it was probably for the best to be direct about what he and his friends were going to do. Perhaps in a way, he wouldn't have to ask Remus directly about the Order of the Phoenix or get into any of that. But moreover, he realized, he never thanked Remus for all that he had done in the last few months since their arrival. His professor was always somewhere nearby, guiding them in his own way, a constant bolstering presence whether he knew it or not.
"Thank you," he said instead, staring at the other wizard.
Remus tilted his head slightly, a bit surprised. "Harry-"
"I never got to say it back in my world," Harry's next words came out in a slight rush, "the last time you and I ever talked, we fought about parental responsibility towards Teddy, your son. You...fought at the Battle of Hogwarts and you died. I didn't see you during the battle, but I saw...I saw what happened. I never apologized nor thanked you." He looked down for a second, trying to compose himself before looking back up.
The corners of Remus' eyes had crinkled, but the teacher before him had a neutral expression on his face. Harry did not sense any Dreamer power from Remus, whether it was soothing or otherwise and supposed he surprised his former professor. Finally, after what seemed like long minutes, but was probably seconds, the smallest of smiles appeared on Remus' face and he nodded.
"You're welcome, Harry," he replied before his smile turned a little more sheepish. "I must confess, I've never expected a thanks from anyone. Not as a professor nor a Dreamer."
Harry tilted his head. "Why not?"
"This responsibility I- we- hold. It is one that cannot be thanked because we are expected to do our duty. Each day it is about survival and it is about ensuring that others survive and thrive."
Harry frowned and opened his mouth to say that someone like Lupin deserved the thanks, deserved probably a hundred more thanks for being there for others, as well as being a Dreamer, but then closed it as he realized Lupin's words bothered him. He pressed his lips together and nodded. "It's a heavy responsibility," he echoed.
Lupin looked at him with a small nod of his head. "I take it you were not used to the thanks you've received in your world when Voldemort was defeated?"
Harry shuffled his feet a little. "...Yeah...something like that." He looked back up at Remus. "I...didn't like the attention. Never liked being known as The-Boy-Who-Lived when I first killed Voldemort. Now, killing him a second time. I'm not sure if I'll ever like the celebrity it comes with it."
"And here..." Remus started softly.
Harry's eyes flashed. "Yeah. At least this whole Merlin disguise helps a little."
"But the people will find out sooner or later, especially when you succeed..."
"I know...I'm not sure I'll like that either-" Harry paused and looked up at Remus. "Wait, you...you don't doubt me?"
"I am yours to command, Hopes," Remus smiled fondly. "And I would like to think that perhaps, somewhere in the near future if all goes right, my dear friend's first-born son could be something like you."
Harry knew this was his chance. "But...I'm only Heir-"
"You will pass your Trials, however long they may be," Remus replied. "To me, you are our Hope, ever since you've entrusted the Virtues with the secret of who you really are. Trust is a rare commodity these days."
Harry could hear power behind Remus' words. The older man continued. "To have courage is to hope that faith and justice will also prevail. But there always needs to be a degree of wisdom and temperance, otherwise, hope will just be but candle." Remus' smile was sad. "The loss of wisdom and justice upset that delicate balance, but only recently returned. Tempering the courage of such hope has been a long journey and has allowed fear to rule."
And it was with those words that Harry realized realized that he did not need to ask his former professor whether or not he was part of the Order of the Phoenix. Remus was already a part of it and judging by his words, played exactly the part that Severus Snape had played with Voldemort in his world – except in this world, it was to Dumbledore. Remus was the spy for the Order of the Phoenix, deflecting any and all attempts for the Minister to find out about the second Order within – the one dedicated to serving the Dreamer of Hopes.
He was silent for a few seconds, his mind whirling with what he now knew. Finally, he realized he had just been staring at Remus for a moment before coughing slightly and looking away, embarrassed. "Er..."
"He is still a good man, Harry," Remus reached out and squeezed his shoulder gently. "He was and still is consumed by his fear."
Harry was suddenly reminded of the moment he had met Dumbledore when he had been on the threshold of life and death. "Do not pity the dead, Harry. Pity the living, and, above all, those who live without love." He wondered if it was right to pity this world's Dumbledore for living in fear. But fear of what, Harry knew he could not speculate nor ask. He still had too much respect for the Headmaster, even if he was that much different in this world. Perhaps it would be right to pity him then...pity him for living with his fear and if it was true, why the Minister had seemingly horded hope, keeping it contained, keeping it...safe for the lack of a better word.
"What does he fear?" Harry wondered out loud.
Remus shook his head, but did not look to say anymore as the sounds of students outside of the classroom started to grow louder. Instead, he lifted his hand and nodded to Harry who nodded back.
"I'll just, uh, sit back here then," Harry moved towards the back as Remus stepped away to continue his preparations for class. Harry absently transfigured a couple of old defense books into a stool of sorts. Just as he placed his holly wand back into its holster inside his sleeve, the door opened and the 6th Year students of all houses stepped in, chatting to themselves.
A few paused and stopped talking as they saw him sitting in the back, but they were mostly pushed into the room by the others who had not realized he was there. Some of the students protested and looked to fight back, but most of them quieted as they realized he was there. Harry felt Merlin raise a mental eyebrow and did the same physically, staring at the students.
"Students, I am sure you all remember Merlin from the end of last school year," Remus spoke up, bringing the attention of the gawking 6th Years towards him. "It should not come as a shock that he and his Knights are observing classes once more."
"Y-Yeah, but Professor- He, uh-" one of the bolder 6th Years, a young man Harry did not recognize from Ravenclaw spoke up.
"Please sit down, we'll begin today's lesson on a review of stunners before I'm having you use it against the Cornish pixies here," Remus chided gently.
"He's going to help teach?" The voice almost sounded a bit like his own, but had a surlier edge to it and Harry blinked at the Gryffindor who looked rather cross.
"Five points from Gryffindor for your rudeness Eddie. Please sit down, all of you," Remus said in a firm tone.
Harry blinked again and frowned a little. He recognized Eddie Potter, the young man who was born two years after he had been. It was also then that Harry realized he had not seen him since the Founders' Ball. He felt both guilty and disconcerted – how had he completely forgotten that he had both a little brother and sister in this world. Iris, Iris Potter was entering her 5th Year too.
You've a lot on your mind, Harry, Merlin's voice was soothing, but Harry grimaced.
It doesn't give me the excuse to forget that I have family other than Mum and Dad here, he shot back. I should have made sure they were safe or maybe visited-
Do not regret what has already past, the Dreamer chided gently. Your Trial-
I know... It was only yesterday that he had woken up from accomplishing his first Trial on his way to becoming the Dreamer of Hopes. He could not regret what was, only move forward. Perhaps there was a way he could at least make up for it – if only to reassure Eddie any doubts he had about his real older brother in this world. He sighed and settled himself in to watch as Remus started the class.
The chocolate piece snapping off loudly startled Harry from the fogginess of his mind after another session of Legilimency. He took the piece from his father and nibbled on it, slumping back against the tall chair with a ragged sigh.
"Harry...what's wrong? You were doing well yesterday, but I barely skimmed the surface of your mind when your house just fell apart-"
"Sorry," the apology fell automatically from Harry's mouth as he finished the piece. He ran a hand through his hair and scrubbed his face roughly. "It's just...been a long day-"
"I could tell judging by some of the quick flashes of memories I got. Did you get any sleep?" James looked at him with a critical eye and handed him another piece of chocolate.
Harry waved it away, and shook his head. "No...the other me...we...talked last night-"
"Harry-!"
"-But he didn't see anything," Harry hurried on at the narrowing of his father's eyes. He did not need to glance over to know that even Snape had stopped whatever he was marking on the pile of parchments and was looking at him with some degree of alarm. "I saw into his mind instead. He didn't see into mine..."
His father had a frown on his face and it was like looking into an eerie mirror. "Explain," his father said shortly.
For a brief moment, Harry marveled at the stern command. This was what it was like to have his actual father. And while a part of him rebelled, the other part of him yearned again for his father. But the moment past quickly as he realized both he and even Snape for all of his attempts at not listening in, were waiting for an answer. He grimaced. "I saw how Regulus Black died..."
The stern frown immediately disappeared, replaced by a cross between a wince and one of sorrow. James cleared his throat gently and leaned forward, reaching out a tentative that squeezed Harry's forearm. "I'm sorry for yelling at you," his father replied. "But-"
"I know...you had to know," Harry replied equally quietly. "It worked though...your lessons. I felt different in that dreamscape. Stronger...more secure in my memories and thoughts."
James' lips twitched a little before he nodded and released his forearm. However, he did not sit back. Instead, Harry noted that he looked pensive, almost regretful – though not the worn look he always had. He realized why his father looked like that.
"I confirmed it, didn't I?" he murmured.
"I..." James hesitated for a second before shaking his head and pushing his glasses back up his nose. "The Prophet's headlines don't usually lie. We knew Regulus was killed by the new Black Queen. We didn't know who back then. Snape here also tried to looking into it as much as he could, but no one knew the identity of the new Black Queen. It was a dark time for months after that. Here we thought the Dark Lord found a new weapon and was going to unleash it upon the populace. He did unleash a weapon, but it was not the Black Queen and we paid dearly for it."
"He pulled a feint?"
"Yeah..." James sighed, raggedly. "That's when we lost Wisdom too. Professor McGonagall... And for a while we thought the Prophet had lied, but it was not the case. When-" James looked like he swallowed a lemon before forcing his next words out. "When Harry, my Harry...when he showed himself and said he was the Black Queen. I...didn't want to believe until I felt the fear. I could feel it in my bones." He pointed to himself. "I could feel it in the remnants of the powers I carry." He shook his head slowly. "But I didn't believe, not fully until...well- Now..."
"Each Black Queen the Dark Lord has named worked in the shadows," Snape's voice suddenly breaking through their conversation startled Harry. He glanced over to see the Potions professor set his parchments down and lean back against the chair he had been sitting on. His wand was idly still pointed at the door. The uncomfortable feeling Harry couldn't name still bothered him each time, but he knew it definitely came from Snape. However, it did not seem threatening and so he let his suspicions die at the moment. "The Dark Lord's assassin and left hand. His right, is the Black King, the public figure and nominally his Heir. At least that was what had been happening in the war."
"Until recently, I take it?"
"Until recently," Snape confirmed. "This new development of a very active Black Queen and the declaration of being his Heir...one could only guess at the Black King's thoughts and motives."
Harry remembered the vision he had received in the aftermath of the attack on Hogsmeade during the summer. He bit his lip. "They hate each other," he said quietly.
"Very astute, Potter," Snape drawled and Harry frowned at him. "Even I could have told you that in my capacity. It is an open secret among the Death Eaters that the Black King and Black Queen, even before his reveal as your counterpart, loathed each other. The consideration to potential pit the two against each other has been on the Minister's mind for a long time even before it was brought up in the planning meeting. Finding an Heir to Fears is just, as the muggle saying goes 'the icing on the cake'."
"But...?"
"The consequences for such a plan to pit the two in open warfare may contribute to a significant loss of life," Snape replied shortly. "It is something even the Dark Lord has seen and put a stop to on rare occasion."
"But terrorizing the populace isn't part of that," Harry growled out. Snape merely looked at him, his gaze reminiscent of the same stare that his world's Snape gave him when he said something obvious or stupid. It somehow brought more comfort than annoyance to Harry. He still did not feel comfortable around this world's Severus Snape and wondered if he would ever. The lack of animosity seemed to be the driving factor, but there was still something there that Harry couldn't figure out that made him uncomfortable.
He sighed and fidgeted. "The Minister's probably right that with us here, the potential return of all virtues, the war's becoming more open, isn't it?" He looked up to see his father nod grimly. "Voldemort's war on the Wizarding World was different, at least I think it was in my world. Me, Ron and Hermione; we were isolated from most of the things happening. But the short times we made contact with the rest of the world, it seemed like it was a quiet take over. Many were already living in fear or were terrorized and thrown into camps or something like that. Some ran, Snatchers were sent, that sort of thing. You had to prove your blood and then you were left alone, except for the families like the Longbottoms or Weasleys. They were left alone, but kept an eye on carefully or tortured for defiance."
"I can sense a story there as to why you were isolated, but the last time there was this much movement...from either side. Well, it was the early 80s," James said grimly.
"Halloween, 1981..." Harry replied quietly. "Veela Attacks of 1983..."
"Yeah..."
"Occulmency lessons seem like a good way to prepare, but, what else do we need to do?" Harry asked, looking back and forth between his father and Snape who had not moved from where he sat. "We've got Cardiff as a stronghold, the Black Queen's already tested Hogsmeade's defenses...and even the Hogwarts Express. What can we expect?"
"That question is probably better suited for Moody, but since a lot of the Wizarding World's been subdued since the 80s, we can probably expect more direct attacks on Hogwarts itself. Dark creatures, sinister spellwork and plots... He's probably going to use the spies he already has in here to get to the four of you. He's probably already probing the defenses once again at Cardiff."
"Is Neville, er," Harry cleared his throat. "Is the Dreamer of Justice safe?"
"Oh, much so," James cracked a small smile. "He is a formidable wizard. Moody was not happy when he declined Auror training after he graduated this past year. From what I could gather, he's working as a herbologist and healer at Cardiff under what's left of the St. Mungo's staff that didn't flee when the hospital was ransacked years ago and replaced by the Dark Lord's followers."
"Wait...but Neville said..." Harry frowned and realized that when he last talked to this world's Neville Longbottom, he had not said anything about his actual occupation, just that he was helping out in Cardiff as both the Dreamer of Justice and keeping the wards safe. Harry had assumed it was Auror work, but hearing the truth from his father. He laughed lightly. It was good to know that at least Neville did not change much in either world.
"The Dreamer of Justice provides the strongest of all warding abilities of the Dreamers, including those of the Sins," Snape started quietly, bringing Harry's gaze towards him. Out of the corner of his eyes, he noted his father seem to shrink back a little, a most neutral expression on his face. There was something in James' eyes as if he was having a silent conversation that was answered by the rise of Snape's chin. Harry wondered why.
"Justice is also well-versed in Occulumency and offensive spell amplification. Some might have said the perfect defense and perfect offense. A balance of the so-called muggle scales of justice, won't you say?" Snape held out his hands for a moment. It did not take long for Harry to understand what the Potions master was saying.
"You used to be Justice," he stated, the quiet startled feeling from Merlin within him stirring the knowledge.
"I used to," Snape answered. "But that was a long time ago and perhaps another lifetime." The Potions master continued as if he did not reveal his former status. "Mr. Longbottom was a formidable Heir and now full Dreamer and one I would have approved if I had lost my powers."
Harry did not miss the specific wording. "Your powers were taken away?"
"No," Snape replied shortly. "I abandoned them."
Harry's jaw dropped.
But the familiar sneer was on Snape's face and there was something buzzing uncomfortably around him. Harry felt Merlin squrim rather unsettled in his mind, almost as if he was trying to look for an escape of sorts. He grimaced, but kept his eyes on Snape. From his father, all he could discern was a frown on James' face, his eyes hooded as he made no move to interfere.
"I wanted more," Snape replied quite coldly. Harry did not know what to do with the sudden change in the attitude that the Potions master was displaying towards him, but at the same time, neither could he respond. There was something familiar, something that soothed Harry about it – this was how he remembered Snape. Disdainful, cold and treating him with barely held contempt. The Snape of this world that he had encountered, treating him with neutrality, a bit of respect, perhaps some concern at times, that Snape puzzled him.
There was power behind his words. Power-
Wait a minute. Harry's thoughts screeched to a halt as he realized he knew this power. He knew it in a very, perhaps almost intimate way. No, not me...he thought. Merlin... He knew this power. He had felt it before. It did not smother as much as it tried to embrace him and keep it to itself. It was selfish and it was of no fault of its own. That was its nature.
He could feel not Merlin that colored his words, but rather the power that he had only begun to grasp. The weaves that he knew as the Dreamer settled over him, assured, light, but powerful in his words. "You're a Dreamer," he stated quietly.
Snape's beady black eyes stared at him, but they contained no malice, nothing to indicate any type of attack was forthcoming.
"Covetousness," Harry stated and received his confirmation by a sharp nod. "Nimue..." he murmured.
"One of the many," Snape replied, drawing out his wand. Harry could not help the flinch, but the dry look and roll of Snape's eyes was followed quickly by the flick of the wand towards the doors.
The uncomfortable feeling that had been stirring within him and within Merlin disappeared – but only for a scant few seconds before it returned as Snape flicked his wand again. He tried to suppress the grimace within him, but was unsuccessful judging by the raise of an eyebrow followed by the briefest of sneers that passed over the Potions master's face.
"Are you happy now, Snape?" James's voice was rough.
"No, but it had to be done, Potter," Snape shot back before pinning Harry with a look. "You had another motive for your lesson tonight. State it."
"When did you-?" Harry felt a swift slice of anger fill him as he realized how Snape had discerned his motives. The disconcerting thing was that he had not felt it. "You probed me while I was-"
"The Dark Lord nor the Black King would have been so merciful. You may have just begun your lessons, Mr. Potter, but you must understand that there are those who will not coddle you just because this is a school. This. Is. War." Snape crossed his arms across his chest and flicked an arched look towards James.
Harry saw his father mutter something unintelligible as he looked away for a second. He realized James felt guilty and something inside him twisted for a brief moment. But it was only so brief as he realized Snape was right in a way. He had been fighting a war, and when he landed in this world and declared he would fight for this one – it was a renewal of that war. He could not and should not have expected his opponents to go easy on him – even if this was Hogwarts. Everything was different and he had allowed himself to be lulled into the false sense of security that even he had railed against immediately after Voldemort came back to life in his world.
Thoroughly chastised, he numbly nodded. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I need to know if there is a way to talk to Ignotus without summoning the Weavers."
Clearly it was not what the two before him expected. Snape sat back while James blinked. His father looked at him shrewdly. "Why do you want to do that?"
"I...we need to ask him if our counterparts die, would we be stuck here forever?" Harry said.
"Did the Weavers indicate as much?"
"The Weavers did offer to send us back when we talked with them. And Ignotus did say to do so, but then they apparently had some kind of row with each other. And they all but implied that for us to get sent back, we'd have to align our cores with our counterparts here. They did say that if any of my friends wanted to immediately return, they can go to the spot that we first met them and they'd be sent back," Harry explained and saw the wince on James' face. "What."
"What did you promise them?"
"I'm not leaving, if that's what you're concerned about-"
"What did you promise them," his father repeated.
"That I'd stay until the Black Queen inherited the mantle of Hopes. That I'll help you, Mum and the others fight to survive, and make sure Hogwarts doesn't fall. I said my friends can make their own decisions, but that was mine."
James exchanged a brief look with Snape who returned it with a sneer and roll of his eyes before he picked his parchments back up and started to grade them once more. His father hunched forward. "I guess there is some consolation that the Weavers won't touch the Black Queen in any way or form, but it does allow the Dreamers, or rather, the Sins to be an extension of their will."
"What?"
James blew out a small breath before rubbing his chin. "The Dreamers, both Virtues and Sins, I guess you can say they are a will of this world, if you want to look at it. They are the will of magic. They help, they hinder. They are just there. However, since anyone can be a Dreamer depending on circumstances they are subjected to...human will, is the best word for it. But each Dreamer is also subjected to the knowledge gained by their Awakening. In such, they are also able to gain knowledge by invoking the guidance, if you will, of the Weavers." He held out his hands, two palms up and placed them next to each other. "It...that muggle phrase, levels the playing field?"
James nodded to himself. "Levels the playing field. That way, the war, or rather, their influence lasts for however long the wizard or witch has their power. Same as if there are certain times where certain Dreamers exist. The Minister was right that it's rather unprecedented that all of the Virtues have existed in one time or place – and we're talking about full existence, not just Heirs or those who lost their powers. Not since maybe Merlin's time."
"You think this is the Weavers leveling the playing field?" Harry asked.
"Probably, in a way. But since Dreamers are just witches and wizards, they can use or lose their powers depending on their actions. The Weavers, however, will some times interfere in the powers of a Dreamer if perhaps things aren't quite balanced."
"Ignotus did say that there was a definite power imbalance and Godric, or rather, Courage indicated that if there is no one worthy of the mantle, they do fade away."
"Kind of correct, from a certain point of view," James replied, and there was a brief pulse of power that Harry faintly recognized as the remnants of Courage. It warmed him. "This is lore that Marius would want to know, but we really can't say much about it – unless it's to another Dreamer or at least an Heir that's already started their Trials." He sighed a little. "Most of the time, when there is no full Dreamer, there are always Heirs. They either stay Heirs their whole life, or fail their Trial somewhere and then a new Heir is found. It doesn't quite fade away, at least not that I know of." He rubbed his lips. "But if Courage did say such a thing...I don't doubt it then...and it makes more sense."
"We were brought here apparently to right the imbalance..."
"And I suspect it is because the Weavers don't want the Virtues to disappear. Otherwise, they'd wouldn't have done something so drastic."
"Ripping people from other dimensions is probably the height of drastic measures," Harry replied rather sarcastically and saw James cover his mouth in a coughing laughing.
"Sorry," he apologized. "Anyway, what I mean is that with the Weavers won't interfere with hindering your attempts to bring the Black Queen into the fold of Hopes. But they may direct at least the other Dreamers, to hinder your goal."
"Why?"
"Oh Harry..." Gone was the humor and in place James looked rather old. "To them, it's all about control. To them, this is the biggest chess board they have and they use us to play wizarding chess."
"Even Ignotus?"
"Sadly, even him. Though considering what you've told me, he may be regretting his actions and has decided to make an attempt to oppose both the Weavers and his brothers," James replied. "He was...of help to myself at one time, but..." James had a wan smile on his face and shrugged.
Harry realized that his father had more than likely asked Ignotus for help, had been given it, but the results were not what he expected. It also seemed like the events that happened after October 31st, 1981 seemed to have been the driving factor. But his father's lack of words told him that even Snape did not know the truth behind what happened. His father was right, only he, Marion and Harry knew.
The sheer lack of trust in this world baffled Harry. But at the same time, it also explained why there was a lack of hope. To trust was to hope that someone had good intentions for you. The lack of trust in this world smothered hope for good. Harry shook his head. He could not fall into that same trap. He could not become so cynical as to not trust anyone. As he looked at his father, he realized that his father put a lot of trust in him, which also explained a lot of his actions and those of the Order of the Phoenix. They wanted to trust someone. And with him as the Heir to Hopes, they needed that trust.
"Then there is a way to contact Ignotus," he replied.
"There is. A full Dreamer is able to commune with any of the Weavers. However, invoking the Weavers or even a single Weaver without the Council summoning first, results in consequences for the Dreamer."
"What are the consequences?"
James shook his head. "It depends. But there's always a price." He pressed his lips thinly together and flushed a little, looking away. Harry realized what his father had done and how Courage had ultimately been lost.
Harry felt ill.
He would have to ask Ginny, Remus or Snape to summon Ignotus in order to get his answer without knowing what the consequences for them were. There was no way he could ask Hermione as she was out looking for their counterparts with Ron. Neville was out of the question – being Cardiff's one and only defensive beacon and a full Dreamer to boot in this world.
Was the question worth it? Was he selfish enough to ask someone to sacrifice themselves for him? But, ultimately, did he trust them enough? Ginny, absolutely. But he also knew that he loved her too much to ask her to sacrifice her powers or even potentially her life if that was the price. The unknown quantity of what was the price of summoning a Weaver – a godlike being in this world – was almost unfathomable to Harry.
It was a responsibility that weighed heavily on him.
Author's Notes:
I'm definitely advancing a few plot points only b/c I realized that the traditional storyline I wanted to write was massively slowing down the pacing and the plot development.