"Ah, Harry my boy!" Dumbledore said with a smile as Harry entered his office. He had been fiddling with… something, Harry honestly couldn't say what it was as it looked like a combination of a TV antenna, a Newton's Craddle, and a twisted coat hanger. Though he was sure it was something rather important. "Let me put this away… I've gotten into abstract art and this is my latest piece. Do you like it? I took a TV antenna, a Newton's Cradle, and an old coat hanger to try and create something that appears at once to be useful yet useless. I think that speaks to the failure of man to try and use advancement to make his life easier. Don't you agree?"
Harry, utterly befuddled by all that, found himself merely nodding his head and hoping that would be enough for the Headmaster.
"Have a seat, have a seat," Dumbledore said, hurrying around his desk and clearing off a chair that had been piled high with books, folders, and bits of paper. "Yes, I know, I should have gotten with the digital age far sooner but I can't help it… there is something about having something physical to hold onto that makes it all the more real. Plus," he gave Harry a wink as he tapped the papers on the desk to straighten them, "I am a bit of a packrat and its better to have useful things around like books than to suddenly decide to collect bits of loose string."
"I suppose so," Harry said. From the corner of his eye he swore he saw a copy of Playpoke sticking out of the pile and he REALLY didn't want to try and figure out why the headmaster of Hogwarts was holding onto THAT!
"Ah, I wondered where that went too," Dumbledore said, pulling out said magazine and chuckling. "They did an interview with my brother Aberforth last month… he is trying to breed a new regional variant of Gogoat for Avalon and a friend has been documenting all his successes and failures." He glanced at Harry, eyes winkling with mischief. "Feel free to tell all your friends you saw me with this… they'll never believe you anyway."
Harry began to desperately look around the room for a lotto ticket with his name on it, just so he could think about it and get Dumbledore to give it to him.
"Lemon drop?" the headmaster head, pulling out a white paper bag filled with the treats. While normally Harry wouldn't have risked taking the candy, as his paranoia meant he couldn't be sure the sweets weren't poisoned, that was no longer an actual problem for him. One of the odd benefits to his recent Gigantamaxing had been a change in his immune system, kicking it into hyperdrive. Remus had insisted on him seeing a doctor after the events of the Ministry Assault and the tests had shown that Harry now healed at a much faster than normal rate, to the point that only the worst of illnesses could now knock him out (goodbye common cold!) and poisons would be burned out of his system rapidly. As such he could enjoy the little yellow sour candies without his skittish mind going into overdrive.
"Thank you," he said, reaching in and taking one of the hard yellow rocks and popping it into his mouth. There was a brief taste of chalk from the light powdery dusting that each candy had to keep it from sticking to his brothers, then the tart taste that made him grimace for a moment before his tongue grew used to it.
"That is always the best part… that moment when you wonder why you ever thought eating one of these was a good idea." Dumbledore popped his own in his mouth, smiling and wiggling his shoulders before he began to speak. "How are classes, my boy? Able to keep up well enough."
"Well enough," Harry admitted.
"But you have other things on your mind," Dumbledore pressed. "Things that keep you from focusing on class. Please, don't deny it… honestly I'd be a bit worried if you weren't finding your attention drawn away from this theory or that but the promise of ancient secrets long thought lost to the modern word." He leaned back in his chair and sighed. "I remember what it was like to be young and discovering new things about the world and yourself, my boy. I became a squire when I was your age but I still had to do my education at Hogwarts… my free time between classes and the holiday breaks and the summer saw me returning to learn more but I still went to class. And the entire time I tried to focus… oh, but it was so hard!" He chuckled lightly at the memory. "So don't feel bad for being distracted. It is natural. I just hope that our little meetings will be able to help you. Now then…" he got up and made his way over to an ornate chest. "Where is it…"
Harry would have suspected that the chest held the focus of their meeting for that day… if it weren't for the fact that Dumbledore's office contained so many different boxes, crates, chests, and other containers that all looked to hold holy relics that it actually made the chest blend in. 'I wonder if he did that on purpose. Hide things in plain sight?' Dumbledore continued to mutter to himself as he pulled out all sorts of odds and ends. A sword in a scabbard, rather short and thin but decent enough is quality. A bolt of purple fabric. A stuffed Raboot clearly made for a child, it's body made from a painted burlap bag with faded paint done up on it to represent the Pokemon. A few books that looked rather heavy but that Dumbledore was able to lift out easily enough.
"Ah, here we are," he said suddenly, pulling out… a key. He held it aloft for a moment before, much to Harry's disbelief, he went to ANOTHER chest and unlocked that one, pawing through its contents.
Whatever annoyance Harry had been feeling though at Dumbledore's antics died a rather swift death when the headmaster pulled out what might have been the most beautiful and delicate object he'd ever seen in his life. All at once he was moving forward to get a better look but he kept his steps soft and his movement slow, for it felt as if, should he move even at a normal pace, he might risk destroying the precious relic.
"Yes," Dumbledore whispered, "they do have that affect on people."
Cupped in his hands was flower made of pure purplish-blue crystal, the light dancing off its petals and sending out beams of dancing sapphire light that happily bounced about his office. It was perhaps the size of a rose's bloom but unlike a rose or any other flower that Harry had ever seen. Two long flat leaves formed the base, upon which sat a large twisting bloom, like a tulip's head. Yet even with it completely closed the flower was beautiful, with a rippling quality to its surface and a ridge-like vein that encircled the entire thing. Dumbledore kept it carefully balanced in his palms and Harry couldn't help but wonder how many people had fought and died for such a breath-taking thing, for this was a relic that would start wars and drive rich men into poverty in order to possess it. Not just because of its beauty but the very sense of timelessness that seemed to fill the air just by having it out in the open. It was… it was alive. Yet also cold and still. The ultimate in dichotomy.
Harry reached out a hand before he gained control of himself, snatching his fingers back. He didn't know if it was because he feared what he might do… or what Dumbledore might do should he get to close.
"What is this?" Harry asked softly, wincing at how, even at a whisper, his words sounded far too loud for the object.
"This, my boy, is one of the great secrets of the Aura Guardians. Every Art, I imagine, has their own little tricks and solutions to mysteries of the world that are only known to them. This flower is rather normal to me, while being strange to you, but I bet if you were to show me some of the secrets of the Speakers, things you have grown used to, they would be fantastical to me."
Dumbeldore was fishing again, trying to learn more about what he'd done on the Whirl Islands. And as he had done before Harry promptly ignored the question as if it had never been asked and instead focused on the flower the headmaster was holding. Even with everything going on with Jack he'd never betray the Hall of Speakers, no matter what.
To his credit the professor didn't press Harry any further, choosing instead to gaze at the flower resting in his ancient hand. "It is so odd to think that this flower is so much older than I, Harry. I am an infant still in swaddling compared to it but you wouldn't know that from merely looking at it. It is timeless…" He let out a chuckle at that before adding, "Sorry, my boy, just a little joke that I'm afraid you aren't a part of at the moment. But I suppose we should rectify that, shouldn't we?
"This, Harry, is a Time Flower. Once it was a living flower… perhaps a common one or maybe a rare bud that can no longer be found on this Earth. That doesn't matter. What does matter is that a Time Flower comes into being when an Aura User properly harvests a flower, nurturing it and caring for it with their own aura so that it might live on forever and preserve the memories it holds."
"Memories?" Harry asked.
"Oh yes. Everything in the world has memories, Harry. Rocks, trees, the dirt under our feet and the clouds above our heads. Every river, every lake, every ocean. Aura causes things to remember… leaves an imprint on it that can never be scrubbed away. I'm not talking metaphorically, I want you to understand that. I mean actual memories. It is how a building like dear Hogwarts can feel like it has a soul. It is why when you enter a room that has seen so much history you feel a weight settle down upon you. Why men will crave swords and shields that belonged to their families for generations rather than desire something new, something better. Everything holds memories and the Time Flowers are no different."
He paused at that, eyes twinkling once more.
"Except, in this case… they are different. Very different. For while the trees and the rocks and all the rest cling to their secrets… Time Flowers do not. To a select few… to those that know how to whisper to them the proper way, they can reveal their secrets."
"How do you do that?" Harry asked.
Dumbledore smiled gently. "Aura, of course." Harry mentally groaned; of course it was aura, that is what he was here to learn about, after all! "When the Time Flowers were first discovered it was found that they responded to a certain… resonance… when it came to Aura. To protect their secrets those that discovered and cultivated the flowers, turning them from their soft and gentle forms into these crystal beauties, the resonance was never revealed in any records. No, it is passed down from teacher to student, taught so that the time flowers become a sort of… Oral History, if you will."
"And if they aren't taught? Or forgotten?" Harry asked.
"I know of 10 flowers whose resonance was lost. Each of them was given to a squire, myself included, to work on to try and find it again." Dumbledore shook his head. "I'm still working on mine."
Harry swallowed at that. He had had just such a feeling that the Time Flowers and the way to interact with them were important and not to be taken lightly.
"The memory this flower holds is what is believed to be the first human aura user. Not a Knight… they came after. Merely the first Aura User."
"What is the difference?" Harry asked.
Dumbledore chuckled. "Oh, there are many differences. While some of the Arts, like the Veela, only have one true leader with its members falling into different clans and tribes the Aura Users have had many different groups claim to be the true masters. Aura Knights, of which I am from, came originally from Northern Sinnoh. The Aura Guardians came from the Lucario Kingdom, also near Sinnoh but not from the actual land proper. Then there are Aura Sentinels, Aura Protectors, Aura Soldiers… I dare say that over our long time on this world there have been a dozen different groups to claim the mantle of the 'true' Aura Users, masters of the Art." He let out a small bemused sigh. "I suppose though, with I remaining the Knights are the true group now for they are all that is left, assuming there isn't some secret group hidden in the shadows, refusing to allow their existence to be known."
"Isn't that possible?"
"It is but I doubt it," Dumbledore stated. "Aura, you must understand Harry, is hard to hide once you tap into it. Oh, from a normal man not gifted with the ability to wield it we are able to hide just fine. I could stand next to someone seeking out Aura Users and they'd never realize I was the one they sought unless they had the gift or if I was rather showy in demonstrating the power."
"And one that has the gift?" Harry pressed.
"It would be like screaming in a quiet theater. Hard to miss. It is actually how I was discovered by my brotherhood; how all squires are. Once you understand Aura it is impossible for you not to notice those around you that also possess it." He paused. "Though I should remind you that all people have Aura. It is, after all, no different than the blood in our veins. There are merely some better at controlling and using it that others."
With that, before Harry could say anything else, the headmaster set the Time Flower on top of the chest and brought his hands together, forming a diamond shape with his fingers. Within the empty hollow he'd created a ball of blue aura appeared, flickering and twitching before it began to gentle reach out, stretching like taffy until a tendril of it began to swirl around the Time Flower. Harry watched, entranced, as the vein around the flower receded and the petals opened as one, revealing a complex geometric bloom that began to let out a haunting quiet wail. It wasn't musical or harsh or… well, rather anything. Harry had never heard such a sound before, it was utterly alien to him. The noise of a lost time and place that would never come again.
Then the flower flashed with Aura before a wave of light burst out of it, forming a dome around himself and the headmaster that filled the entire office. Dumbledore, by that point, had stopped focusing his Aura on the Time Flower and instead placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, smiling down at him gently.
"This is the first wonder I wish to show you."
The dome of Aura flared and suddenly Harry found himself standing in an entirely different place. Where once had been the headmaster's office there was now a massive grassy plain. The sky was dark but the stars overhead shone merrily and the moon hung large and pale in the inky night. There was a light wind that blew through the long grass that came up to Harry's hips and the chirps of different nocturnal Pokemon could be heard all around him. There wasn't a lick of technology or any sign of man anywhere and Harry took a step forward, marveling-
"OW!" he exclaimed, grabbing his shin and hissing in pain as he looked down at the first chest, the one Dumbledore had gotten the key from, that was sitting right there in the sea of green.
"I'm sorry, my boy, I should have warned you," Dumbledore said with concern though Harry could hear the mild amusement in the man's voice. "We are still in my office. The Time Flower's power allows it to project its memory into here, so we might observe all that it did. It might look like we have left all of Avalon but we are still standing where we were only minutes earlier. Everything is where it was… so be careful."
Harry grimaced, rubbing his aching leg. "Right," he muttered in pain. "And where exactly are we, anyway?"
"Well, that is the question, isn't it? I know the where, of course. We are in Sinnoh, the birthplace of Aura. Or at least that is where the memory came from. But it is just as important to ask 'when' as 'where'." Harry bit back a groan at that; he so did hate cheeky word plays like that. "Truth be told it has been a matter of debate when this memory takes place. Those of my brotherhood knew that it was the first time Aura was recorded to be used by a man but we can't say for sure when that was. Perhaps what we are about to witness is the founder of one of the Aura using groups coming into his power for the first time. Perhaps it is merely a random stranger who never learned more than what he is about to do. We only know he is the first. And that is what matters for what we are about to witness."
Dumbledore raised a hand and gave it a wave and Harry watched as the world around him began to speed up. The grasses shifted back and forth rapidly at an unnatural pace, the moon began to visibly creep across the sky, and the night grew darker as the night grew longer.
As it did so he couldn't help but look around at his surroundings… and notice that while the memory illusion was impressive now that he understood what it was he could see the failures within it. Sinnoh was a cold region, even in the dead of summer, yet he didn't feel a chill on his skin. The wind was blowing but it never touched him. The scent of grass and dirt that should have filled the air was missing, with only the light scent of lavender coming up from the unseen candles in Dumbledore's office filling his nostrils. On a whim Harry reached out and ran his fingers through the grass, watching as his hand easily passed right though them.
'Does that make this world a ghostly image? Or am I the phantom, unable to interact with it?' he thought with a shudder. Even though he knew that this had to be the fake, the false, he couldn't help but allow his mind to wander at what it must be like to be a true ghost. Not one like a Haunter or Ludwig but an actual ghost. A dead thing wandering a world that he didn't belong in-
Harry shut his eyes and took a breath. His mind was wandering due to stress and that was causing it to play tricks on him. And that wouldn't ever lead to good things. No. He just needed to focus.
Opening his eyes once more he looked to the headmaster who had just finished forcing the projection to speed through time; Harry had a feeling though that Dumbledore had been purposely making the process go longer than it needed to in order to give Harry a chance to adjust.
"There," Dumbledore said as the leaves in the tall trees stopped swaying rapidly and the grasses calmed to a more reasonable pace and flow. His hands stopped glowing and Dumbledore patted the little flower like it was a child that had done a good job obeying its parents' orders and thus deserved a treat. "You know, for all the times I've seen this memory… I never quite get used to it. A very powerful thing, to see the origin of something." He chuckled to himself. "No matter how small."
Harry didn't know quite what was so funny; perhaps Dumbledore merely chuckled because he didn't know how else to react. He knew that the headmaster had been a teacher once but not anymore and Harry wondered if the man had forgotten how to actually interact with children. He laughed because he didn't know how to connect with people younger than him anymore so that was the only way to do is.
"Of course," Dumbledore continues, not realizing that Harry is focused not on his words but how he delivers them, "a small thing can become a mighty thing quite easily. A man is given a bit of land and generations later his heir is the mightiest lord in his region. A boy that is sickly and small can grow into the most deadly of warriors. The most unlikely of creatures can becomes the greatest threat in the world if time and chance are allowed their due. And a random encounter that never needed to happen can lead to the creation of an Art." He looked past Harry's right shoulder and smiled. "Ah… and so our small, random moment begins."
In the distance he saw it: the warbling light, wiggling and twitching in the wind. Or so he'd thought, until it had grown closer and he'd realized that it was a torch and it wasn't the wind causing it to waver but the man holding it. A drunk man… or perhaps that wasn't the right word, considering the man was still drinking as he approached them, a jug of booze clutched in his hand. 'Is there a present tense for drunk? A drink?' Harry thought as the figure came closer to them, giving him a better look at the man. He looked like a pirate who was hard on his luck, lacking coin, and had been kicked off his ship for disgusting the rest of the crew with his hygiene. 'Maybe I should be glad that there are no smells,' Harry thought to himself as the man stumbled closer to them, knowing he must have the stench of a thousand uncleaned washrooms wafting up from his skin. 'But who is this man and how he is connected to the first Aura User? Did he attack him? Father him maybe? Perhaps a future friend that is redeemed-'
But then Dumbledore spoke up and said the words that Harry had known were true but hadn't voiced (even in his own thoughts). "Look at him, Harry. Stumbling about in the dark, stinking of booze and… other things… clad in a rough spun shirt and trousers he probably stole off a corpse… he doesn't even have shoes. And yet this… this is the man who is our ancestor. The first Aura User."
Harry grimaced at that.
Dumbledore placed his hand on his shoulder. "The first lesson, my boy: shining knights and noble heroes only exist in story books. Reality is far darker and flawed."
He could only nod at that. He'd come to realize that about the present day, that the legends Avalon liked to tell about their region were lies, but apparently there had still been a part of him that wished for there to be a small bit of magic and wonder in the world. To see the small, scrawny man standing there rather than a 7 foot tall muscular god with flowing dark locks and a grin that screamed he could fight the entire world and never lose his smile… it was a blow.
'But one I needed,' he mentally thought, seeing the wisdom in the Headmaster showing him this vision. It was better to understand the world than to live with a lie, after all.
The drunk man stumbled and dropped his jug, letting out a rumbling snarl at that. "God damn… fucking rocks…" he muttered to himself, bending down to retrieve his jug and Harry couldn't help but wonder if the fool with actually drop to his knees and try and suck what liquor had spilled from the container out of the dirt just to make sure he didn't lose a single drop-
Harry leapt back in shock as a Luxray leapt from the tall grass, claws extended and teeth bared in a snarl as it attacked. It soared right at Harry and he nearly slipped into the Speaker's Realm only to catch himself, remembering that all of this wasn't real. Still, it looked completely real and when he later would think back on the memory he would remember the creature as clearly as if it had been Leon or Firebolt: the shock of black blur, the blue face twisted in an expression of violent hunger, the forelegs teaching out with claws ready to tear into anything its fangs might miss. Lightning crackling over its fur, eyes wide, the hiss that seemed to ride up his spine and straight into the part of his brain that was now completely Pokemon… it demanded he submit and part of him wanted to curl up in a tiny ball while the other part roared in outrage that another being would dare to try and challenge him.
It was only because the drunk had bent down that he was spared, the Luxray leaping over his head and landing with a yelp that sent it rolling head over heels before it was able to spring back to its feet. The snarls of the beast were enough to snap the man out of his inebriated state, or at least enough to function, and he whipped around the face the beast, the torch held out like a weapon, waving it in jerky, tight motions.
"Hey!" the man screamed, his voice taking on a much higher pitch than Harry would have originally suspected. "Hey!"
The Luxray showed no signs of caring about his commands (or pleas, depending on how one took the man's cries), choosing instead to snap its mouth together, activating Thunder Fang, before leaping once more. The drunk cried out as he was struck and it was only because he'd begun to lurk away that he was saved from being mauled. That didn't mean though he was spared as his shirt had been torn with blood soaking into the ragged edges. The man clutched at his chest and let out a wail of pain, dropping his torch and causing the grass to crackle and burn but he didn't have long to dwell on that as in the next moment the Luxray turned once more and charged.
Then it happened.
With blood soaking into the grooves of his fingers the drunk thrust his hands out to shield himself as the Luxray leapt at him only for the blazing blue fire of Aura appeared around his fingers. Time seemed to slow and Harry watched as the Pokemon blinked in surprise before it was sent flying back by a blast of raw Aura that struck it like a sledge hammer. Its body tumbled into the long grass and it yowled in pain. Now it struggled to get to its feet but stumbled and fell, unable to put weight on one of its paws, curling it tight to its body.
The drunk stared at his hands in surprise.
"And now…" Dumbledore whispered, "we see the truth."
There were many things Harry might have expected to happen. The drunk to flee. To try and capture the Pokemon. Help the Luxray up and earn its trust and companionship. Drive it off with another show of force.
But in his bitterness over all that had happened to him… he wasn't shocked at all when the drunk, seeing his hands glowing with power and the Luxray that had nearly killed him wounded, flashed a vicious smirk and leapt forward, his fists burning as he punched the electric type in the side. The Luxray howled and tried to bite at him but the man fired a blast of Aura in its face before returning to pummeling it. And even when the flames disappeared and left him with no power at all save for his own strength he still attacked the Pokemon, pounding it and kicking it and howling like a beast himself as he brutally brought his fists down again and again and again. He didn't care in the slightest that the Pokemon was clearly dead. He didn't notice that he'd busted his own knuckles in his savage attack. He just kept attack it, roaring out in victory.
Dumbledore dipped his head and waved his hand, the memory dissipating like fog against the morning son, leaving the two of them once more in his office.
"Do you know why I showed you that Harry?"
He merely continued to look at where the man had been moments earlier, his own hands clenched into fists.
Instead of answering he asked, "How could he use Aura?" Dumbledore looked at him, arching an eyebrow, and he elaborated, "You told me that to use Aura one must have pure intentions. How could a violent drunk-"
"Who decides what it means to be 'pure'?" Dumbledore asked him. "There is no guide book, no holy scripture that declares what is good and what is evil for the entire world that all follow. Wars have been fought over that, Harry. That man was pathetic and vile, yes. A drunk who probably, if he lived in our times, would be arrested and never allowed to see the light of day. But in his era?" Dumbledore shook his head. "But even then, notice that the Aura only lasted for a moment. When did that change?"
Harry though it over. He let his mind cycle over what he had seen, the entire attack… both attacks, really. The flare of the Aura, the strike, the drunk going after the Luxray…
"What he became the aggressor," Harry finally stated.
"Close, but not quite." Dumbledore placed a hand on Harry's back, between his shoulder blades, and guided him back towards his desk, the Time Flower still sitting there, glowing faintly as its petals curled close. "When it no longer became about preserving life but only taking it."
Harry screwed up his brow at that. "So you're saying that the moment you want to kill someone Aura will abandon you?"
"Not quite, though I can tell that you are thinking of Speaker and Magnus and how they don't have such restrictions. To that I merely point out that while those Arts are easier to master-" Harry mentally scoffed at that; Speaking had NOT been easy and had required a legendary Pokemon to help him learn it! "-Aura offers far greater power. It is a trade off, Harry… strength and control. They go hand in hand."
"A karate master, by the time he learns how to kill with just his bare hands, has put so much energy and effort into learning those skills that he's also developed the strength of self not to rashly use that power." Dumbledore looked at him and Harry shrugged. "Jurassic Park. I had a lot of time on my hands this summer and decided to read it. Ian Malcolm is an ass but he does bring up good points."
Dumbledore chuckled at that. "Sounds like many men I know, unfortunately." He settled in behind his desk, folding his hands together and leaning forward, locking eyes with Harry. "When I fight it is always to save others. Sometimes, as much as I might hate it, that might mean hurting someone in a way that radically alters their life… maybe even kills them. It is something I never want to do. It is part of the reason why I have fought for peace for so long. Yet… when I have fought in such ways, like back at the Ministry against Voldemort's last host-" Harry cringed at the reminder of that night and his failure but Dumbledore didn't show any signs of noticing or if he did he dind't say a word, "-it was out of saving lives. That is why the Aura remained with me. With the man we just saw… he did it out of the thrill of power. And that… that made all the difference." He smiled. "I ask again… why did I show you that memory?"
"To make that point?"
"Not quite," the headmaster said, eyes twinkling even as his smile fell. "I showed you to remind you that even the most noble and amazing of things, that appear grand and pure and heroic… can have origins steeped in violence."
Harry nodded at that.
"Now then… let us practice with you drawing out and manipulating your Aura." He held out his hands and Harry did the same. "Focus on my words… find the fire within your soul. Burning bright and beautiful. And now bring it out… coax it out…"
But even as Harry did so, as he sought that spark within him… his minded replayed over and over the drunk who had started it all and his feral grin as he took a Pokemon's life.