Harry Potter and the Rise of Lord Voldemort: Chapter Twenty-One
A/N: Ah, the legal drinking age. twenty-one. Such a coveted number. Disregarded by most of my high school colleagues, but hey, apparently it is cool to go out and act like a drunken buffoon.
Oh wait, they ARE drunken buffoons. How silly of me.
*authoress goes out and gets drunk off her rocker, and begins rambling about owning Harry Potter. Her friends, even though they too are too drunk to know spit from shit, begin laughing uproariously in disbelief, and promptly barf their guts up. Even though they are smashed, they still know that it couldn't happen.* Okay, so I would never do that, but it just goes to show.
* * * * *
The next morning Harry went about his usual routine; wake up twenty minutes late by the sound of Crookshank's daily squeal of protest in being trodden on, retrieve his wrinkled robes that he had worn the day before from a heap on the floor, and rush out the door just as Ron and Hermione were about to leave him behind. In fact, it wasn't until Harry had seen Professor Callahan at the staff table that he dropped his porridge all down his front.
"Nghh, oh no no, not Callahan." Harry mumbled in fright, not taking notice of the burning sensation on his chest and legs.
"Harry! What have you done!" Hermione shrieked in disgust.
Harry jumped into the air, startled. "I DIDN'T MEAN TO SEE HER NAKED!!!!!!" he yelped in defense, thinking Hermione was reprimanding him for the Callahan fiasco.
A few bewildered faces turned towards Harry, but Hermione handled it like a champ. "It's okay, he's just shocked. Walked in on me in the shower this morning." A few kids sniggered, and Fred and George, true to their form, cracked a few distasteful and perverted jokes, but somehow everyone believed that Harry should be rightly traumatized by walking in on Hermione during her shower. Which didn't make the girl too happy.
"Here, shut up and eat your food." Hermione ordered gruffly, her anger showing in the way she jabbed her wand at Harry's robes in way of a cleansing spell. The muck leapt off so fast that not one spot was left on the black fabric; not even the old raspberry jam stain from third year.
"Can't wait for Defense class today. It's about time we got an actual teacher around here, eh?" Seamus Finnigan asked aloud to his best friend, Dean Thomas.
"Yeah, not to mention the fact that Mrs. Snott was beginning to be a pain in the arse. Thank God Callahan's coming back." Dean agreed.
Parvati sniggered. "And I guess the fact that you have a little crush on her doesn't dampen things any, eh?"
Dean gasped and his face turned a magnificent shade of burnt red. "Do not." he mumbled to his hands in defense. Resounding giggles erupted around the table at this.
"Aww, got a little crushie-poo on a teacher, do we?" Lavender cooed.
"It's nothing compared to what you and Patil have for Professor Trelawney!" Seamus shot back, defending his friend. There were ohhh's and ahhh's from the stinging comment, and Lavender flounced her hair in response, curtly taking a large bite of her toast.
Ron was rather amused by the whole thing. Hermione was still looking slightly wounded from everyone's pity for Harry's walking in on her showering, and Harry couldn't string two sentences together for fear of the oncoming class. Which wasn't like him at all, but ever since they had uncovered that secret document he'd become rather unhinged.
"I suppose we'd better get going." prodded Ron, nudging his two friends into a standing position. Grumbling, they followed their red-haired friend out the door and up the stairs, until finally they were stopped in front of the heavy wooden door.
Harry sighed. "Guess this is it." With a shrug, he pushed the great door and it swung open with a squeak of foreboding, revealing the classroom behind it. Things looked much different; for one, there were large cages sitting atop each table shaking madly. And another thing, the smell was horrible, like burning plastic and month-old mayonnaise. But of course, these things flew right past Harry, and only one thing was registering in his mind: Professor Victoria Callahan was sitting at her desk at the head of the room, beckoning him inside.
"Ron, Hermione, how nice to see you again, it's certainly been a while. And Harry. how interesting to see you once more. May I have a word with you?" the teacher greeted with false warmth.
Harry gulped, throwing a last pleading look over his shoulder at his friends while approaching the desk. "Hello Professor. I-it's nice to see you well." Actually, she looked quite pale and there were dark circles under her eyes, but pointing those things out was not a way to get on the woman's good side.
"Also probably nice to see me clothed, eh Harry?" Professor Callahan remarked with a smirk. It took Harry about three heart attacks to realize that she was joking.
"Oh, erm. yeah, sure." Harry answered nervously. How was he supposed to respond to that?
"Don't worry about that little incident in the hospital wing, it's a mistake anyone could make. Let's keep it our little secret, though. I wouldn't like it spread around the school that I'm giving peep shows to my students." advised the woman, chuckling a bit.
Harry smiled. "No hard feelings?"
"Nah, you're fine. Besides, I suppose it's payback for the fool I made of myself at the Three Broomsticks. I cannot apologize enough for that. It's just ever since Severus." she trailed off then, staring at her hands in her lap. Suddenly she whipped her head up, put on a happy face, and continued. "At any rate, there was no excuse for my behavior, and you have my sincerest regrets. Weasley, you will note that I have written full letters of apology to your family, including your sister-in-law, Ms. Crinkle."
Ron whipped his head up at the mention of his name. "You didn't have to do that."
"Yes, I did." Professor Callahan insisted firmly, and Ron nodded.
"Thank-you anyways." he replied.
By then, other students were streaming in the doors, and Harry was dismissed looking like he just exited the lavatory after a nine-hour nonstop road trip. "Feeling better, Har?" Ron chided with a smile.
"Yeah, I guess that wasn't so bad." Harry conceded.
"So bad?!" Hermione "So bad? She was downright casual about the whole affair, even joking about it. You're a lucky man, I didn't think she'd ever even speak to you again."
"I'm just glad its over, and we can go back to being normal." answered Harry, taking a seat at a table with Neville and eyeing the quivering box warily. Ron and Hermione took the table next to him.
"Welcome back, Professor Callahan!" Lavender welcomed cheerily.
"Lavender Brown-noser." Ron whispered aside to Harry, and he snorted. Ah, things really were back to normal all right.
That day's Defense Against the Dark Arts class was an especially interesting one; not only were there Subterranean Monisks (small, hedgehog- type creatures that laid their eggs underground in colorful shells that looked like gems so humans would pick them up), but Professor Callahan only assigned a one parchment essay instead of her usual five.
"She's probably just trying to make it up to us, for being absent," Hermione suggested. "I mean, we've got loads of work to do, we're so behind, and she only told us to read chapters twelve through eighteen, when we should be beyond chapter thirty!"
Ron shook his head. "Wait Hermione, I don't get it, are you complaining because we don't have homework?" She just shot him a huffy look and kept walking.
With the most strenuous part of the day over with, Harry was content to relax and doze off in Divination. Unfortunately, Professor Trelawney was keeping an unnaturally keen eye on him and Ron during her class. "What's the old bird's problem today? Did her crystal ball tell her that she's a fraud?" Ron griped after getting reprimanded a third time for falling asleep.
After class, the old woman called after Harry as he slinked out the door. "Potter! The spirits recommend some interesting things about you, boy." she commented. The two friends groaned simultaneously. Saying that the spirits recommended something was just Trelawney's way of conveying her personal opinion, but what was this gibberish about? What interesting things? Ron made a hand gesture saying that he would wait up for Harry, and that Professor Trelawney was something very rude indeed. With that, he was out the door and Harry was left alone in the cloudy room.
"What have the spirits been saying about me this time?" Harry asked, sensing another death premonition coming on. But then again, a few years back the old woman did manage an accurate prediction. maybe this was for real. Odds were on the side of it being a crock of meaningless horse dung, but might as well hear the eccentric biddy out.
Professor Trelawney steepled her fingers importantly and leaned back in her chair. Harry found himself exhaling harder to try and make her fall. "I was sitting in bed last night when a spirit came to me. It said that you require some guidance in the area of old connections, and it would be helpful of me to lend you Dr. Bernard Auery's series of books on medieval spell links. Does this ring a bell?"
Harry suddenly became uneasy. Those books were exactly what he would need to tell him how to strengthen his bond with Voldemort. is it possible that Trelawney's "spirits" could've told her this? There is no way she would've known otherwise.
"Ooer, thanks, yes, that IS true. I was very interested in the subject of. channels and links, between, erm, worlds and. stuff." Harry lied rather unconvincingly.
The old bag nodded wisely. "Of course you are, and the spirits would like to help you on your quest for knowledge. Here, take these books and use them well. They are yours until end of term." She took out a large sack containing about ten large, musty books that looked like they hadn't been touched in ages.
"Thank you very much, you truly are a wonder." Harry thanked, although this compliment might've been a touch too much. The professor eyed him warily, holding the sack just out of his reach, probably considering if her coveted "spirits" could be wrong or not. Her pride won over in the end though, and she presented her student with the heavy sack.
"Use it well." she repeated pompously. Harry refrained from saying anything further, because it was sure to be bitingly cynical, and rushed out the door to a waiting Ron.
"Bloody hell! D'you think she knows what we're up to?" asked Ron after Harry explained the whole thing on their way to the common room.
"She'd have to, otherwise how would've she known that I needed books on that exact subject? It's not exactly a broad genre." Harry answered.
"Will she get us in trouble for it?" Ron worried.
Harry shook his head. "I don't think there's any rule against reading, but it gives me the willies nonetheless. How did she KNOW?!"
"How did who know what?" Hermione asked. She was sitting in a large chair by the fire, legs crossed, petting Crookshanks lazily.
"Professor Trelawney knew that we needed books on old magical connections." Ron explained.
Hermione leaned forward, looking excited but not concerned. "Really?"
"Yeah, she gave us all these books because 'the spirits' told her I was interested in this field." said Harry.
"Well, that's marvelous! It's about time, I was going to have to take my wand to Gabrielle's painting." squealed Hermione.
Ron stared at Hermione in disbelief. "Wha-huh? Number one, NO, that is NOT marvelous, and number two, who the hell is Gabrielle?"
"It is marvelous because my plan finally worked. And Gabrielle is the angel in the painting in the first-floor girl's bathroom." Hermione explained slowly like she was talking to an invalid.
"Oh, and that explains everything." Ron remarked sarcastically.
Hermione let out an indignant 'humph' and turned towards Harry, ignoring Ron. "I asked Gabrielle to go to the painting above Professor Trelawney's bed and whisper to her in the night so she'd think it was one of her 'spirits.' Gabrielle was to say that she was a 'spirit' from the underworld, and that Harry Potter needed guidance in the areas of old curse links and such. She's been doing it for the past few days, but Trelawney didn't seem to take any of it in, so it I considered it a lost cause."
"And you did this without telling us?" cried Ron in exasperation. "You had Harry and I scared to death, imagining that Trelawney could truly read minds and see the future and whatnot."
"Oh, I could've sworn I told you, didn't I? At least mention it?" Hermione checked.
Harry shook his head. "Nope, I would've remembered something like that. It's so risky, what if Trelawney found out we were trying to figure out how to communicate with Voldemort? I mean, she's thickheaded, but not that thickheaded."
"Ah c'mon, that woman's such a fraud she's even got herself believing that she can see the future and hear spirits. If any of the other teachers ask why we have these books, we'll just say that the woman gave them to us and we didn't want to refuse. Easy as pie." Hermione answered with a shrug. She kneeled down by the bag and took out each of the books, stacking them on a table. The titles were slightly unnerving, "I Can See You: Who is Spying on Your Thoughts?" and "Things That Go Listening in the Night."
"We'll sift through these later, but right now dinner's being served in the Great Hall. Let's head out, all." Hermione commanded expertly, and Harry and Ron tramped out the door behind her.
(^*^)
"I can't read Olde Englishe, who does Trelawney think I am? Robin Hood?" Ron griped as he attempted to read "Communicative Trances for Link Deciphering."
"They're all like this though," Harry pointed out. "This Dr. Auery guy must be either really old or really dead by now."
"Dead. In 1282 when he was trying to communicate with his partner Yonathan Wellings, Wellings was shot and pulled Auery through with him."
Ron scrunched up his face. "His partner? Pulled him through? English, please, and make it up-to-date."
Hermione sighed, displaying what a burden it must be to possess such lone genius. "Auery had a link, a mental segment, with Wellings. Kind of like you and You-Know-Who, Harry, except they were friends. While they were communicating telepathically with one another, Wellings was killed, and since their minds were linked, Auery was inadvertently pulled on to the Other Side with him. It happens like that with anything a person is experiencing when they have a link; their partner will automatically experience the same thing. Pain, sorrow, happiness, if your link is strong enough you can transfer anything."
Harry winced; that couldn't be very pleasant. Auery wasn't even supposed to die yet, and just because he had some stupid link with a dead guy. "So that could happen to me?" he asked tentatively.
Hermione pursed her lips and looked at the floor in pain, not replying but conveying her answer clearly. So it could. Harry could die if Voldemort. but wait! Voldemort couldn't die, so Harry wasn't in any danger. But what would happen if it were the other way around. what if Harry died while he and the Dark Lord had contact? Would Voldemort be defeated and finally cease to be, or would Harry have died in vain?
Raising his head, Harry opened his mouth and was just about to ask Hermione that pressing question when he caught the look still lingering on her face from his previous question. She was clearly worried sick, and it pained her just to be aiding Harry in hurting himself. Slowly Harry closed his mouth and buried his nose in his book once more, not being able to read a word of it.
If his link was strong enough. judging by the complicated exercises and spells in these books, strengthening the link wasn't an easy process, but it could be done. The link was classified as a level nine "Sparing" link, and defined as "when one wizard attempts to attack another, and the victim is protected by one of the Beauty's. The attack is reflected back upon its creator, and the victim is left unharmed. The attackor is then connected by a link to it's prey, connecting him forever to what he did to deserve this fate: he tried to destroy something so blessed and wonderful."
Harry shuddered at the thought of being considered "blessed and wonderful." He had to look up the phrase "one of the Beauty's" and found out that there are three protective spells that the ancient ancestors of wizards cast in dire need: The Agape Spell, which conveyed a true, romantic love towards another, The Idoli Spell, which protected someone the witch or wizard loved and looked up to, such as a parent, and The Philos Spell, which used a parental love to guard a child. These spells were so coveted and beauteous, the purest and most primitive established since time began.
This was all so mind-boggling, and it took Harry five minutes of staring into space before he got it sorted out. His mother - Lily Potter - cast the Philos spell on him, perhaps without her even knowing it, in the last moments of her life. Voldemort, when he tried to destroy Harry, was unable to because of this strong defensive magic. The Killing Curse was returned back upon himself, and he should've died. But the Dark Lord was hardly even human anymore, so much evil had overtaken his body, so he was just reduced to something less than alive, but mercifully more than dead. And then, as a result of Voldemort's trying to kill Harry, a link was established between the two of them, as a sort of punishment.
But so many other things were left unanswered. Why had some of Voldemort's powers been transferred into Harry? Why hadn't he been able to touch him before, was that a result of the Philos spell? And what made him able to touch him now?
Harry shuddered, remembering the chilly touch of the Dark Lord's bony finger across his jaw. And the wand thing. was that just a big coincidence, or was Harry's wand chosen for him because of the link?
There were too many complicated questions, and their answers were nearly as intricate. Harry only hoped that someday, when he was old and reflective, he could look back and answer every single one of them without wincing in pain too often.
* * * * *
A/N: WHEW, WHEW, and double WHEW! That was an exerting chapter! I made up all that sequence of events and the three Beauty spells and Harry and Voldemort's link and. whew! Was it up to par? Did I screw anything up too bad? I sure hope you enjoyed it, but even if you didn't, review me pweese! I'll love you forever!
Love from,
Saranimal
HaloGal5@aol.com
A/N: Ah, the legal drinking age. twenty-one. Such a coveted number. Disregarded by most of my high school colleagues, but hey, apparently it is cool to go out and act like a drunken buffoon.
Oh wait, they ARE drunken buffoons. How silly of me.
*authoress goes out and gets drunk off her rocker, and begins rambling about owning Harry Potter. Her friends, even though they too are too drunk to know spit from shit, begin laughing uproariously in disbelief, and promptly barf their guts up. Even though they are smashed, they still know that it couldn't happen.* Okay, so I would never do that, but it just goes to show.
* * * * *
The next morning Harry went about his usual routine; wake up twenty minutes late by the sound of Crookshank's daily squeal of protest in being trodden on, retrieve his wrinkled robes that he had worn the day before from a heap on the floor, and rush out the door just as Ron and Hermione were about to leave him behind. In fact, it wasn't until Harry had seen Professor Callahan at the staff table that he dropped his porridge all down his front.
"Nghh, oh no no, not Callahan." Harry mumbled in fright, not taking notice of the burning sensation on his chest and legs.
"Harry! What have you done!" Hermione shrieked in disgust.
Harry jumped into the air, startled. "I DIDN'T MEAN TO SEE HER NAKED!!!!!!" he yelped in defense, thinking Hermione was reprimanding him for the Callahan fiasco.
A few bewildered faces turned towards Harry, but Hermione handled it like a champ. "It's okay, he's just shocked. Walked in on me in the shower this morning." A few kids sniggered, and Fred and George, true to their form, cracked a few distasteful and perverted jokes, but somehow everyone believed that Harry should be rightly traumatized by walking in on Hermione during her shower. Which didn't make the girl too happy.
"Here, shut up and eat your food." Hermione ordered gruffly, her anger showing in the way she jabbed her wand at Harry's robes in way of a cleansing spell. The muck leapt off so fast that not one spot was left on the black fabric; not even the old raspberry jam stain from third year.
"Can't wait for Defense class today. It's about time we got an actual teacher around here, eh?" Seamus Finnigan asked aloud to his best friend, Dean Thomas.
"Yeah, not to mention the fact that Mrs. Snott was beginning to be a pain in the arse. Thank God Callahan's coming back." Dean agreed.
Parvati sniggered. "And I guess the fact that you have a little crush on her doesn't dampen things any, eh?"
Dean gasped and his face turned a magnificent shade of burnt red. "Do not." he mumbled to his hands in defense. Resounding giggles erupted around the table at this.
"Aww, got a little crushie-poo on a teacher, do we?" Lavender cooed.
"It's nothing compared to what you and Patil have for Professor Trelawney!" Seamus shot back, defending his friend. There were ohhh's and ahhh's from the stinging comment, and Lavender flounced her hair in response, curtly taking a large bite of her toast.
Ron was rather amused by the whole thing. Hermione was still looking slightly wounded from everyone's pity for Harry's walking in on her showering, and Harry couldn't string two sentences together for fear of the oncoming class. Which wasn't like him at all, but ever since they had uncovered that secret document he'd become rather unhinged.
"I suppose we'd better get going." prodded Ron, nudging his two friends into a standing position. Grumbling, they followed their red-haired friend out the door and up the stairs, until finally they were stopped in front of the heavy wooden door.
Harry sighed. "Guess this is it." With a shrug, he pushed the great door and it swung open with a squeak of foreboding, revealing the classroom behind it. Things looked much different; for one, there were large cages sitting atop each table shaking madly. And another thing, the smell was horrible, like burning plastic and month-old mayonnaise. But of course, these things flew right past Harry, and only one thing was registering in his mind: Professor Victoria Callahan was sitting at her desk at the head of the room, beckoning him inside.
"Ron, Hermione, how nice to see you again, it's certainly been a while. And Harry. how interesting to see you once more. May I have a word with you?" the teacher greeted with false warmth.
Harry gulped, throwing a last pleading look over his shoulder at his friends while approaching the desk. "Hello Professor. I-it's nice to see you well." Actually, she looked quite pale and there were dark circles under her eyes, but pointing those things out was not a way to get on the woman's good side.
"Also probably nice to see me clothed, eh Harry?" Professor Callahan remarked with a smirk. It took Harry about three heart attacks to realize that she was joking.
"Oh, erm. yeah, sure." Harry answered nervously. How was he supposed to respond to that?
"Don't worry about that little incident in the hospital wing, it's a mistake anyone could make. Let's keep it our little secret, though. I wouldn't like it spread around the school that I'm giving peep shows to my students." advised the woman, chuckling a bit.
Harry smiled. "No hard feelings?"
"Nah, you're fine. Besides, I suppose it's payback for the fool I made of myself at the Three Broomsticks. I cannot apologize enough for that. It's just ever since Severus." she trailed off then, staring at her hands in her lap. Suddenly she whipped her head up, put on a happy face, and continued. "At any rate, there was no excuse for my behavior, and you have my sincerest regrets. Weasley, you will note that I have written full letters of apology to your family, including your sister-in-law, Ms. Crinkle."
Ron whipped his head up at the mention of his name. "You didn't have to do that."
"Yes, I did." Professor Callahan insisted firmly, and Ron nodded.
"Thank-you anyways." he replied.
By then, other students were streaming in the doors, and Harry was dismissed looking like he just exited the lavatory after a nine-hour nonstop road trip. "Feeling better, Har?" Ron chided with a smile.
"Yeah, I guess that wasn't so bad." Harry conceded.
"So bad?!" Hermione "So bad? She was downright casual about the whole affair, even joking about it. You're a lucky man, I didn't think she'd ever even speak to you again."
"I'm just glad its over, and we can go back to being normal." answered Harry, taking a seat at a table with Neville and eyeing the quivering box warily. Ron and Hermione took the table next to him.
"Welcome back, Professor Callahan!" Lavender welcomed cheerily.
"Lavender Brown-noser." Ron whispered aside to Harry, and he snorted. Ah, things really were back to normal all right.
That day's Defense Against the Dark Arts class was an especially interesting one; not only were there Subterranean Monisks (small, hedgehog- type creatures that laid their eggs underground in colorful shells that looked like gems so humans would pick them up), but Professor Callahan only assigned a one parchment essay instead of her usual five.
"She's probably just trying to make it up to us, for being absent," Hermione suggested. "I mean, we've got loads of work to do, we're so behind, and she only told us to read chapters twelve through eighteen, when we should be beyond chapter thirty!"
Ron shook his head. "Wait Hermione, I don't get it, are you complaining because we don't have homework?" She just shot him a huffy look and kept walking.
With the most strenuous part of the day over with, Harry was content to relax and doze off in Divination. Unfortunately, Professor Trelawney was keeping an unnaturally keen eye on him and Ron during her class. "What's the old bird's problem today? Did her crystal ball tell her that she's a fraud?" Ron griped after getting reprimanded a third time for falling asleep.
After class, the old woman called after Harry as he slinked out the door. "Potter! The spirits recommend some interesting things about you, boy." she commented. The two friends groaned simultaneously. Saying that the spirits recommended something was just Trelawney's way of conveying her personal opinion, but what was this gibberish about? What interesting things? Ron made a hand gesture saying that he would wait up for Harry, and that Professor Trelawney was something very rude indeed. With that, he was out the door and Harry was left alone in the cloudy room.
"What have the spirits been saying about me this time?" Harry asked, sensing another death premonition coming on. But then again, a few years back the old woman did manage an accurate prediction. maybe this was for real. Odds were on the side of it being a crock of meaningless horse dung, but might as well hear the eccentric biddy out.
Professor Trelawney steepled her fingers importantly and leaned back in her chair. Harry found himself exhaling harder to try and make her fall. "I was sitting in bed last night when a spirit came to me. It said that you require some guidance in the area of old connections, and it would be helpful of me to lend you Dr. Bernard Auery's series of books on medieval spell links. Does this ring a bell?"
Harry suddenly became uneasy. Those books were exactly what he would need to tell him how to strengthen his bond with Voldemort. is it possible that Trelawney's "spirits" could've told her this? There is no way she would've known otherwise.
"Ooer, thanks, yes, that IS true. I was very interested in the subject of. channels and links, between, erm, worlds and. stuff." Harry lied rather unconvincingly.
The old bag nodded wisely. "Of course you are, and the spirits would like to help you on your quest for knowledge. Here, take these books and use them well. They are yours until end of term." She took out a large sack containing about ten large, musty books that looked like they hadn't been touched in ages.
"Thank you very much, you truly are a wonder." Harry thanked, although this compliment might've been a touch too much. The professor eyed him warily, holding the sack just out of his reach, probably considering if her coveted "spirits" could be wrong or not. Her pride won over in the end though, and she presented her student with the heavy sack.
"Use it well." she repeated pompously. Harry refrained from saying anything further, because it was sure to be bitingly cynical, and rushed out the door to a waiting Ron.
"Bloody hell! D'you think she knows what we're up to?" asked Ron after Harry explained the whole thing on their way to the common room.
"She'd have to, otherwise how would've she known that I needed books on that exact subject? It's not exactly a broad genre." Harry answered.
"Will she get us in trouble for it?" Ron worried.
Harry shook his head. "I don't think there's any rule against reading, but it gives me the willies nonetheless. How did she KNOW?!"
"How did who know what?" Hermione asked. She was sitting in a large chair by the fire, legs crossed, petting Crookshanks lazily.
"Professor Trelawney knew that we needed books on old magical connections." Ron explained.
Hermione leaned forward, looking excited but not concerned. "Really?"
"Yeah, she gave us all these books because 'the spirits' told her I was interested in this field." said Harry.
"Well, that's marvelous! It's about time, I was going to have to take my wand to Gabrielle's painting." squealed Hermione.
Ron stared at Hermione in disbelief. "Wha-huh? Number one, NO, that is NOT marvelous, and number two, who the hell is Gabrielle?"
"It is marvelous because my plan finally worked. And Gabrielle is the angel in the painting in the first-floor girl's bathroom." Hermione explained slowly like she was talking to an invalid.
"Oh, and that explains everything." Ron remarked sarcastically.
Hermione let out an indignant 'humph' and turned towards Harry, ignoring Ron. "I asked Gabrielle to go to the painting above Professor Trelawney's bed and whisper to her in the night so she'd think it was one of her 'spirits.' Gabrielle was to say that she was a 'spirit' from the underworld, and that Harry Potter needed guidance in the areas of old curse links and such. She's been doing it for the past few days, but Trelawney didn't seem to take any of it in, so it I considered it a lost cause."
"And you did this without telling us?" cried Ron in exasperation. "You had Harry and I scared to death, imagining that Trelawney could truly read minds and see the future and whatnot."
"Oh, I could've sworn I told you, didn't I? At least mention it?" Hermione checked.
Harry shook his head. "Nope, I would've remembered something like that. It's so risky, what if Trelawney found out we were trying to figure out how to communicate with Voldemort? I mean, she's thickheaded, but not that thickheaded."
"Ah c'mon, that woman's such a fraud she's even got herself believing that she can see the future and hear spirits. If any of the other teachers ask why we have these books, we'll just say that the woman gave them to us and we didn't want to refuse. Easy as pie." Hermione answered with a shrug. She kneeled down by the bag and took out each of the books, stacking them on a table. The titles were slightly unnerving, "I Can See You: Who is Spying on Your Thoughts?" and "Things That Go Listening in the Night."
"We'll sift through these later, but right now dinner's being served in the Great Hall. Let's head out, all." Hermione commanded expertly, and Harry and Ron tramped out the door behind her.
(^*^)
"I can't read Olde Englishe, who does Trelawney think I am? Robin Hood?" Ron griped as he attempted to read "Communicative Trances for Link Deciphering."
"They're all like this though," Harry pointed out. "This Dr. Auery guy must be either really old or really dead by now."
"Dead. In 1282 when he was trying to communicate with his partner Yonathan Wellings, Wellings was shot and pulled Auery through with him."
Ron scrunched up his face. "His partner? Pulled him through? English, please, and make it up-to-date."
Hermione sighed, displaying what a burden it must be to possess such lone genius. "Auery had a link, a mental segment, with Wellings. Kind of like you and You-Know-Who, Harry, except they were friends. While they were communicating telepathically with one another, Wellings was killed, and since their minds were linked, Auery was inadvertently pulled on to the Other Side with him. It happens like that with anything a person is experiencing when they have a link; their partner will automatically experience the same thing. Pain, sorrow, happiness, if your link is strong enough you can transfer anything."
Harry winced; that couldn't be very pleasant. Auery wasn't even supposed to die yet, and just because he had some stupid link with a dead guy. "So that could happen to me?" he asked tentatively.
Hermione pursed her lips and looked at the floor in pain, not replying but conveying her answer clearly. So it could. Harry could die if Voldemort. but wait! Voldemort couldn't die, so Harry wasn't in any danger. But what would happen if it were the other way around. what if Harry died while he and the Dark Lord had contact? Would Voldemort be defeated and finally cease to be, or would Harry have died in vain?
Raising his head, Harry opened his mouth and was just about to ask Hermione that pressing question when he caught the look still lingering on her face from his previous question. She was clearly worried sick, and it pained her just to be aiding Harry in hurting himself. Slowly Harry closed his mouth and buried his nose in his book once more, not being able to read a word of it.
If his link was strong enough. judging by the complicated exercises and spells in these books, strengthening the link wasn't an easy process, but it could be done. The link was classified as a level nine "Sparing" link, and defined as "when one wizard attempts to attack another, and the victim is protected by one of the Beauty's. The attack is reflected back upon its creator, and the victim is left unharmed. The attackor is then connected by a link to it's prey, connecting him forever to what he did to deserve this fate: he tried to destroy something so blessed and wonderful."
Harry shuddered at the thought of being considered "blessed and wonderful." He had to look up the phrase "one of the Beauty's" and found out that there are three protective spells that the ancient ancestors of wizards cast in dire need: The Agape Spell, which conveyed a true, romantic love towards another, The Idoli Spell, which protected someone the witch or wizard loved and looked up to, such as a parent, and The Philos Spell, which used a parental love to guard a child. These spells were so coveted and beauteous, the purest and most primitive established since time began.
This was all so mind-boggling, and it took Harry five minutes of staring into space before he got it sorted out. His mother - Lily Potter - cast the Philos spell on him, perhaps without her even knowing it, in the last moments of her life. Voldemort, when he tried to destroy Harry, was unable to because of this strong defensive magic. The Killing Curse was returned back upon himself, and he should've died. But the Dark Lord was hardly even human anymore, so much evil had overtaken his body, so he was just reduced to something less than alive, but mercifully more than dead. And then, as a result of Voldemort's trying to kill Harry, a link was established between the two of them, as a sort of punishment.
But so many other things were left unanswered. Why had some of Voldemort's powers been transferred into Harry? Why hadn't he been able to touch him before, was that a result of the Philos spell? And what made him able to touch him now?
Harry shuddered, remembering the chilly touch of the Dark Lord's bony finger across his jaw. And the wand thing. was that just a big coincidence, or was Harry's wand chosen for him because of the link?
There were too many complicated questions, and their answers were nearly as intricate. Harry only hoped that someday, when he was old and reflective, he could look back and answer every single one of them without wincing in pain too often.
* * * * *
A/N: WHEW, WHEW, and double WHEW! That was an exerting chapter! I made up all that sequence of events and the three Beauty spells and Harry and Voldemort's link and. whew! Was it up to par? Did I screw anything up too bad? I sure hope you enjoyed it, but even if you didn't, review me pweese! I'll love you forever!
Love from,
Saranimal
HaloGal5@aol.com