By: Harry's Mum Lily
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or related characters. I only own Will, Christlina and the plot. Thanks to Coqui for beta reading this for me. Enjoy! ~HML~
By paths coincident
On being anon twin halves of one august event,
And soon beautiful dreams will come true
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The trip back to the Burrow was as uneventful as Harry could have wished for. He needed no physical reminders of the distant past nor of the events that had happened a few months ago. Nightmares and dreams of what had happened and what could happen continued to plague him. He sat in the back of the Weasley's car in silence but already he could feel his heart lighten somewhat at the prospect of staying with the Weasley's for two weeks. They were, after all, the closest thing to a family Harry had and he desperately needed a family's support right now, the Dursley's certainly would not have offered him that. He was really looking forward to spending some time in a place that held nothing but pleasant memories for him. Nothing bad had ever happened to him while he was at the Burrow and it was the one place in the world right now where he would feel safe and where he could relax his guard somewhat. The Weasleys would not allow anything to happen to him while he was there; he knew this in his heart.
Hogwarts had been the other place he'd considered to be a safe haven from the chaos of the Dark Lord's second bid for power but the past two years had taught him that Voldemort could even find a way around the protections guarding him there, including the ones in place around the castle itself. He was no fool nor was he as naïve as he had once been. Voldemort wanted him dead and as long as Voldemort existed he, Harry, would have to be on his guard. He could not allow himself to be captured again. The Dark Mark began to burn on his arm but he ignored it as best he could.
"I will not give in to you, Voldemort. You have not won, not yet. Your time will come. Know this, I will find the way to defeat you. In the memory of my parents and all those whose families you have broken, I swear to do this."
Harry stared out the car window his mind far away when the town of Ottery St. Catchpole came into view. He began to relax further the farther from Hogwarts he got.
He hated to admit it to himself but everywhere he went at Hogwarts reminded him of his recent imprisonment and of the fact that he had nearly died twice in the last year. A cold shiver ran down his spine at the thought and he gritted his teeth, blinking back tears. He was not sure he could even return to the castle or, if he could manage to enter the Quidditch Pitch again.
"I will not give in to this…" he thought to himself, trying to stave off the dark thoughts that lurked always just under the surface with thoughts of happier times.
Hermione, who was sitting next to him, noticed his body tensing up and that his hands had clenched into fists, the knuckles of which were white. She, unlike Ron, could not even begin to guess what Voldemort and Slytherin had put Harry through. All she knew was that her normally cheerful and carefree friend was gone and that someone she hardly recognised had replaced him. Harry was still there, at least in the physical sense, but his spirit was gone and everything that had made Harry Harry seemed to have vanished. He very rarely smiled or joked anymore and his easygoing manner had been replaced with a guardedness that mystified Hermione.
"Even his eyes look different. They don't sparkle like they used to." She remembered a time when his smile would light his eyes, causing them to sparkle like emerald jewels. "Now there is no happiness in them at all, only sadness and fear. What happened, Harry, to change you so much?"
Hermione looked down at her hands wishing there was something she could do to help Harry, who was still in deep pain about the last several months but she felt there was nothing she or anyone else could do. Several times in past weeks she'd seen him staring into space, a look of deep longing and sorrow on his face, as if he had lost something precious to him that could never be regained. She knew then that her best friend of five years would never see things the same way again. Gone was the time when Harry had been ignorant of his place in the wizarding world and of how important he was to its continued survival now that Voldemort had risen again. Looking at the look of fear and sorrow on Harry's face from the corner of her eye, she did the only thing she could think of doing since words were going to be of little use, she reached out a hand and took one of his cold ones in hers. At the same time Ron took both their hands in his own creating an unbroken circle.
Harry looked up, startled, and saw Ron and Hermione clasping hands with each other and him.
"We will face it together, Harry, just like Hagrid promised fourth year. Do you remember what he told you then?" Hermione's quiet voice floated to him, seeming to come from a great distance.
"What's coming… will come… and we'll meet it… when it does…" The words came out in a choked whisper from Harry's throat.
"That's right, Harry. We'll meet it, when it comes. Together we can take on anything…if we just believe." Ron's voice quivered with emotion and Hermione's eyes were full of tears.
"I….You…don't…can't….understand…" Harry closed his eyes as tears fell from them. His face was a mask of pain and intense sorrow and both Ron and Hermione felt tears in their eyes too.
"We can help you through this, Harry, but it will take time. Let us help you." Ron's voice was broken.
"Please don't shut us out. We have always been there for you." Hermione squeezed his hand trying to offer him her strength to lean on.
The wall Harry had erected around himself weakened and crumbled to the ground. His eyes still full of tears, he opened them and hugged his two friends to him. He sobbed quietly into their shoulders as all the pain, anger and grief that had been about to overwhelm him was released at last. Several moments passed while the three friends comforted each other and after a few minutes Harry was able to look up at his two friends with a faint smile, much like his old one.
"I won't shut you out again. I promise." Harry's voice was full of emotion and it trembled slightly. "Just promise me that you will be careful. I'm…not sure what would happened to me if you…if you…"
He left the sentence unfinished, for fear of making the vision he'd seen come true.
"Don't worry. We'll be careful. Honestly, Harry!" Hermione said indignantly.
"Yeah, we can take care of ourselves, you know." Ron grinned at Harry who grinned back.
Will and Christlina looked at each other and smiled brief smiles knowing that Harry would be all right now that he had his friends at his side. They were glad that they had been invited to come and relished the adventure that was opening up before them. They turned back and looked out the window of the strange horseless carriage at the astounding things that were just beyond its smooth clear surface. There seemed to be a never-ending stream of these horseless carriages and the buildings they had seen were very tall, a good several stories taller than anything either of them had seen before. There were people dressed in the oddest clothing Will and Christlina had ever seen. The woman wore clothing that was normally wore by men in there own time and some of them had shorter hair than the men. The first time Christlina and Will had seen a woman so dressed, in Muggle London, they had stopped and stared openly at her.
"T'is a strange place for sure." Christlina thought to herself as they passed through the small town of Ottery St. Catchpole.
The town was called small but it was still larger than the small village of Godric's Way where Will and Christlina came from, which contained a blacksmith shop, a few small dwellings and the manor house they lived in with their families. They looked at everything with wide staring eyes, trying to etch every last detail in their minds before returning to their own time. Soon they had left the town behind and were on their way into the country again. In the distance, Will just made out an oddly shaped house, which was growing larger with every passing second.
"We will be home soon." Ron said looking at Will and Christlina who had been invited to come along when the Weasleys had learned that they would be left to themselves at the castle. "That house in the distance is where I live with my family. It may not be what you are used to…" Ron sounded slightly embarrassed.
Christlina smiled at Ron: "Have no fear, friend Ron. Surely tis better than the drafty manor I live in."
Ron relaxed somewhat at her words. Ron turned back to Harry and noticed that he seemed to be in better spirits than a few moments ago, although his bottom lip was still trembling slightly. Harry watched the Burrow come into view and felt the weight in his chest begin to subside a little. He was going home, to a place were the people cared for him. He couldn't help but smile as worry and fear seemed to fall away. Here he would come to terms with everything that had happened and with all that he had learned about himself. Here he could, at long last, begin to heal his weakened spirit with his friends at his side.
~
Draco Malfoy lay, staring up at the rich, dark green canopy over his bed, ignoring the bustle of the house elves that were clearing away the breakfast tray that had been sent up to him. This was the third morning he'd spent in his room at Malfoy Manor. He was unwilling to face his parents, especially his father, because they would be so proud of him for being found worthy to join the Death Eater ranks. Somehow, although this was the culmination of his years of study in the Dark Arts, he felt nothing but loathing for the idea. He had finally reached the goal that many Dark Wizards' aspired to but few gained, and at a young age too, yet the thought failed to give him the same joy it once might have.
Draco was mortally afraid of the future he would now spend in service of the Dark Lord, whom he now wished he had never encountered. The idea of what he'd allied himself with and of what he must now do terrified him and that terror was what kept him in bed, that and the nightmares that he'd been having since his return to the Manor from one of Voldemort's many strongholds. The dreams began as soon as he closed his eyes and were full of screams, blood and death all caused by himself. Every time he drifted off to sleep, he would see Voldemort's mad, red eyes boring into his very soul and he would hear a soft hissing voice say, "You are mine." Draco shivered under his blankets, suddenly cold all over despite the sweat that drenched his face.
When he had returned home he'd felt ill, which was a normal reaction to having been tested by the Dark Lord, at least according to his father. Yet he was still abed, feigning weakness, when he was really just trying to put off the inevitable encounter with his parents. Draco knew as well as anyone that he would be expected to attend a dinner party given by his parents to introduce him to the rest of Voldemort's inner circle and to celebrate his being accepted into the group. He would be expected to act in the Malfoy way and to have pride in his newfound station.
"How can I be proud of this?" he thought savagely as he glared at the Dark Mark on his arm. "They don't care about me! All they care about is the Malfoy name and the family honour! They have never cared about anything else!"
Draco closed his eyes and turned away from the sunlight that was streaming through the windows. From the brief glimpse he'd gotten, the day looked like a great one to practice Quidditch or to just fly around on his broom. He wished he could just tell his parents off and leave them forever but he knew he lacked the strength to do so. It wasn't the money…he never really had money of his own anyway. It had always been 'Father's money' that he spent. It was that he knew if he were to attempt such a maneuver, he would be brought back and his Father would not hesitate in using the Imperius Curse on him to make him obey. He would become a puppet for his father and the Dark Lord. No, it was far better to stay here and still have control of his mind. It was far better to remain and pretend to be sick then to be forced to attend a party where he would be put on display because of some ugly mark on his arm. He could at least attempt to put that off for a few days until he'd sorted some things out. He opened his eyes again and glared at the Dark Mark that stood out lividly on his pale skin.
"No one asked me what I wanted. No one ever asks me what I want anymore! It's always what they and to Hell with anyone else's dreams or ambitions!" His eyes glared down at the Dark Mark and then it blurred as tears began to pool in his eyes.
There had been many times in the past that he'd wanted to cry but never so much as he did now. He blinked his eyes to try to stop the tears from falling but knew that this time it was hopeless to stop them. He closed his eyes and felt hot tears run down his face.
"A Malfoy must never show weakness or fear," he muttered, fighting a losing battle with the tears, which continued to fall, despite his best efforts to contain them.
"You is needing to do this for a long time, sir," a high-pitched voice said from somewhere nearby. "And you is needing this too, sir."
Draco felt a cloth being thrust into the hand that lay outside his comforter. He opened his eyes and saw, through his tears, a young female house elf dressed in a ragged, though clean pillowcase. Her large blue eyes were full of concern.
"Th…Thank you," he managed to stammer.
"Sir is sad, yes?"
Draco nodded; surprised that a house elf would even care enough to help him after the way they'd been treated by him in the past. The house elf nodded and grinned.
"Sir is in a state and the Mrs, she is coming soon. Leniera help young sir prepare."
Before Draco could do or say anything Leniera was gone. Draco looked at the cloth in his hand and, seeing that it was clean, wiped the sweat from his face and blew his nose. After a few minutes, Leniera returned with a bowl cold water and another cloth.
"Sir is needing to lay still."
Draco obeyed instantly never once thinking that he should be the one giving the orders. Leniera, after soaking the cloth in the cold water, put the cloth over Draco's eyes. Draco could hear her counting and he slowly felt his eyes beginning to cool down. When she reached 100 she whisked the cloth from his eyes. She looked into them and nodded.
"Sir is looking better, yes. Mrs will be here soon."
Leniera combed his hair and brought him a fresh robe, which he changed into as she plumped up his pillows so that he might sit up comfortably in bed. When he was dressed Leniera helped him get back into bed.
"Sir is still needing rest. We go now but if you is needing anything at all call for Leniera."
His mother entered the room a few minutes after Leniera and the others had departed. She swept into the room with all the grace and dignity of someone who'd been trained from the beginning in the social graces. She was, in every way, a fitting match for Draco's father. Narcissa's blood was pure and her family very old and wealthy. Draco watched his mother enter the room and knew at once where he had gotten his graceful movements and cold demeanor. Though she was beautiful, hers was a frozen beauty and her eyes never contained any emotion within them except haughty indifference, not even for her only child. She sat down on the bed next to him.
"How are you feeling today?" She looked him over but there was no love in her gaze and no concern in her voice.
"I still feel weak and lightheaded, Mother." The lie came so easily to him and yet if she had shown any interest in his well being he would have told her the truth.
She patted his arm absently and brushed a stray lock of hair from his forehead.
"Stay here and rest today then, Draco. You will be returning to Hogwarts soon and you will need your strength for the journey. I have your letter here." She handed the parchment to him and he was not surprised to find it had been opened already. His parents always opened all the mail, even mail addressed to him personally. "You will have to go to Diagon Alley yourself this year. Your father and I have other business to attend to."
Draco nodded silently; knowing that the business she was referring to had to do with Death Eaters and Voldemort. His mother departed the room as she had entered it, paying no farther attention to Draco or his 'illness'. As soon as she left, Draco got up and threw his Hogwarts letter on the bedside table. He would look at it later. He had more pressing matters to attend to. He began to pace the length of the room pondering the questions that kept resurfacing in his mind. As much as he hated Harry Potter…was he really capable of harming him? Could he possibly work as a spy for Voldemort at Hogwarts when he felt he would be betraying his school? Would he be able to kill Harry or anyone else if he was so commanded to? There was a time he would have answered. "yes" to all of these questions without hesitation but after the last two years, he wasn't so sure. He continued to pace the room searching his heart for the answers; seeking a way out of the situation he now found himself in and hoping all was not already lost.
~
Dumbledore followed Lusara to the vault were the Staff of the Phoenix had once rested, hoping to find a clue as to where it had been taken. He'd known of its existence for as long as he had known the prophecy regarding it and the then unknown Heir of Gryffindor. For the first time in nearly half a century he was returning to the place where it had been hidden from the world. According to the Prophecy of the Last Heir, the staff was one of several magical weapons forged for the Heir's use in his last battle with the dark enemy. The first of these weapons was the Sword of Gryffindor, which had come to Harry when he was 12, the second was the Staff, which he was to claim this year and the third was the Dagger of Sorrow, which was to come to him through great sacrifice and loss sometime in the future, though exactly when was unknown even to Dumbledore. The Phoenix Staff was said to give whoever possessed it great powers to use for good or ill. It was said to be able to heal but to also cause harm to those who intended to wield it for evil or selfish purposes. It was also said that only the Heir of Gryffindor would be able to unlock its secrets and use it properly.
He wished he'd had time to explain things to Harry before he had gone off to the Weasley's but there hadn't been time. Harry had seemed to be very withdrawn and lost whenever Dumbledore had encountered him. A change of scenery was what Harry needed at the moment, not a lecture. Sir Godric had explained what had happened to Harry and that he might even now be fighting down fear every time he walked the halls of Hogwarts.
"He's at a very delicate stage right now, where he is trying to come to terms with what happened and who he is. It will take time for him to recover from this but if he were to stay somewhere else for a few days then he would surely recover." Sir Godric had told Dumbledore only the previous day.
Dumbledore knew that a trip to stay with the Weasley's would do Harry a world of good and that he need not worry about anything happening there. It was one of three safe places in the world for Harry to stay. The protections there were stronger than any except the ones on Hogwarts itself and now with the extra and strengthened protections on Harry, Dumbledore had no fear for the boy's safety while he was there.
"I have to talk to him soon though. He must be told before it's too late."
Dumbledore's musings were interrupted by their arrival at the vault complex, which was made of dark marble and looked very much like a large colony of coral, deep in the merpeople's territory. Not even the greatest wizard in the world could find there way to it without a guide, which was another thing about the theft that was odd. Voldemort could not have found the location of the vault by any magical means, which meant that some guard had become the unwilling or unknowing guide to the shadow creatures that had taken the Staff from the vault. According to Lusara, the creatures were still lurking in the area and carrying off her best soldiers.
Lusara lead the way through the twists and turns of the complex with Dumbledore following closely behind. The dark marble walls were highly polished and reflected the light, which was coming from scones that had been given to the merpeople for services in the past. These magic wall scones were full of a strange glowing plant that spilled over the edges of the scones, trailing long tendrils out into the corridor they now were swimming down. The light was a strange shade of greenish-blue and gave the complex an odd ethereal quality that was relaxing in some way. There were closed doors on both sides of the hall covered in Mermish letters to denote what lay beyond. Lusara ignored all of them and pressed onward down the hall and around a corner.
After what seemed to be hours but which, in reality had only been a few moments, they arrived at a large door banded in silver that was different from any door that they had seen. It was as large as the corridor they were in and, on either side of it stood two guards. The door was also covered in magic script, not Mermish. Dumbledore scanned the writing.
"Here lies the treasure of the Heirs. Hidden from the world in ancient days to protect it from evil's hand. Only the Last-born Heir of Gryffindor may rightfully claim what lies herein for it is to be used only by him for the benefit of two worlds and only in the gravest of needs. The time will come when fear and darkness stalk the land in one last bid for power and the weapons will be called for in the final hour. If you are here now then the time has come at last."
The rest of the writing told of the coming of the Heir and the signs of the Heir's coming, which were recorded in Gryffindor's own journal. Lusara opened the vault with a golden key that she kept on a silver chain around her neck and the two of them entered it. A light flared and the room was revealed, sparkling in the sudden light reflected by many jewels and silver mirrors. The faint song of a phoenix sounded and the light took on a more reddish tone. At the center of the room was an alter on which had once rested the Staff of the Phoenix, surrounded by a dome shaped web of light that had been broken into recently. Dumbledore looked into the web from the tear that had been made in it and saw that the Staff was indeed gone. His heart sank. There seemed to be no clue as to where it might have been taken.
Suddenly, there was a gasp of fear from Lusara and she pointed to the wall behind them. Dumbledore turned to the wall and his face paled. There, etched into the silver surface of it, was a Dark Mark that glowed an evil green. Under it were words scrawled in a messy hand and in what looked like blood.
"Your weapon of Light is now mine, and I will turn it to Darkness. All Light shall fail and Darkness will rule forever. If the Heir would dare to claim his own again he must face me alone in the region of Isefet within the mountain of Apep."
There was no signature but Dumbledore knew that Voldemort had caused this to be written although he himself had not entered the vault. The two names mentioned by Voldemort were unfamiliar to him but he knew there must be some information back at Hogwarts about them. He studied the wall intently for several minutes, repeating the words to himself until he had them memorised. Then he turned to Lusara and she led the way back through the twisting passages to the outer door of the vault complex. He was silent for the entire journey, pondering the meaning of the words. It was obvious that Voldemort had taken the Staff in hopes of luring Harry out of hiding but what Dumbledore wasn't sure of was why. Harry knew almost nothing about the Staff or the prophecy. Surely Voldemort knew this.
Lusara followed Dumbledore back to the surface of the lake, keeping watch over the Headmaster while they navigated through dangerous waters. When they reached the surface, she followed him to the shore of the lake and watched as he got out of the water and removed the Bubblehead Charm from around his head with a small flick of his wand.
"I am sorry we have failed you," she said, hanging her head.
"Its all right, Lusara. We will get the Staff back." Dumbledore looked down at her and she raised her head.
"I must return now. My people fear for my safety, with the shadow demons growing bolder of late."
"We will set better protections around the lake and under it. We will send you as much aid as we can spare in this time of darkness."
"We shall stand together now…as we have in years past." Lusara gave Dumbledore a nod and then disappeared under the water again as if she had never been there.
Dumbledore walked swiftly back to the castle, thinking about what Lusara had said. The wizarding community could no long afford to ignore aid from less then conventional sources. All of them must stand together now if they were going to be of any aid to Harry in the future. There was more than one world at stake here. The fall of the wizarding world would bring about the fall of the Muggle world as well for the one could not exist without the other. The wizarding world needed Muggle born wizards and witches to continue to survive and the Muggle world needed wizards to protect them from people such as Voldemort. That was one of the reasons Harry had been sent into hiding in the Muggle world. Harry needed to understand that world and how it worked in relation to his own so that he would be better able to defend both against Voldemort when the time came.
"But in order to defend both our worlds, Harry must claim that Staff and to do that I must figure out the location of the stronghold Voldemort has hidden it in." Dumbledore shook his head, hoping he would be able to fathom the meaning of the strange words that were used by Voldemort to describe the location, for if he could not, he might be sending Harry to his death.