Author: Atlantis Potter
E-mail: atlantispotter@yahoo.com
Category: Romance, Action/Adventure
Keywords: Year 6, Harry, Hermione, IMS, Magus
Rating: R
Spoilers: All Four Books.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Harry Potter and the Wand of Ariel
"You live with your thoughts -- so be careful what they are."~ Eva Arrington
He set the pen down carefully on the desk as he reread his entry. Satisfied, he looked at his watch and, noting the time, got out of the chair and walked over to the corner table. He peered into the small copper cauldron, looking at the silvery, purple contents simmering slowly. Snape had given him instructions for the contents of his Pensieve and Harry was happy to discover that he could just as easily brew the potion in his room as he could the Potions dungeon.
According to his instructions from Snape, the colour was just right, so he turned down the heat and placed a lid onto the cauldron. It needed to be kept on very, very low heat for nearly twelve hours and he'd risen early to get started on it. His watch told him that he had another two hours before he needed to remove it. He closed the notebook and turned down the lights in his room. It was time for his lesson with Ami and Rachel.
He wondered to himself what was taking Hermione so long to respond to his letters. He'd sent the letter about the Daily Prophet three days earlier and he still had not heard a reply. He shrugged off his worries and tried to block the reoccurring daydreams of Hermione and Ron getting back together. Before he knew it, he was standing in front of the classroom where Dumbledore had instructed him to meet with Ami and Rachel. He heard laughter as he drew nearer to the door and paused.
The two women were perched in desks facing each other and carrying on about some story or another. Rachel was clutching her stomach and chuckling as Ami relayed a tale, using lots of animated hand gestures. Harry stepped into the doorframe and cleared his throat. The two women stopped their carrying on and turned to look at him, both smiling.
"Hiya Harry!" Ami said brightly, motioning for him to join them.
"Evening Harry, how's the potion brewing?" Rachel asked, grinning.
"It's moving along pretty well. It's simmering now; I have to check it in about two hours."
"Well then, we better get started," Rachel replied.
Ami shifted her desk so that Harry could sit with them. She smiled at him once more as they sat.
"I suppose the first thing we should talk about is what exactly a Magus is. Do you know much about it?" Rachel said, getting right to business.
"Only what Arabella told me. She didn't seem to know much about it. Actually, Arabella said that I came into full power last summer…" he trailed off, his confusion growing as he rethought what Arabella had told him earlier in the year.
"Arabella really knows very little about it. And that's more than what most people know. The theory of the Magus is so ancient and magiscience has basically concluded that it was impossible for another Magus to ever appear."
"What do you mean? Arabella explained a legend-"
"It's not a legend. How much do you know about magical history Harry?"
He shrugged. "What we learned in History of Magic. About the goblin rebellions, a little about the founding of Hogwarts, some about Magus…"
"Ah, so very little. I should start at the beginning I suppose. It begins really with a legend and sort of morphs into history. Similar to Muggle history, but older. As the legend goes, back and back through time, its believed that everyone had magic in them. Which is most likely very true, as magic is based hugely on willpower."
"So, how did everyone have magic?" Harry asked.
She shrugged slightly. "As I said, it's based largely on willpower. Everyone, wizard, witch, Muggle, knew about magic. Everyone could at least perform a tiny bit. However, there was a group, called the Magi that had magical genes. They could perform magic on the simplest whim, use incredible talents like mind reading, and spoke their own language, which you know of. Mage is a very interesting language, I'll go into that later."
"If everyone used to be magic, how did that change?"
"The Magi were a very elite group, friendly and kind, but aloof from the rest of the human population. A Magus would never think to marry outside of the class. The story goes that Tristram-"
"Tristram?"
Rachel nodded. "Yes, I believe you know about him?"
"I've met him."
"Met him? Why, surely, that's impossible! Tristram disappeared nearly a millennium ago."
Harry began the lengthy explanation offered to him by Tristram on the afternoon of the graveyard. Ami and Rachel listened intently and a quarter of the way through Harry's tale, Rachel conjured a quill and parchment and began scratching down notes. Harry continued on to the scene in the graveyard and a look of terror washed over Ami's face. Rachel had grown ashen and set down her quill, no longer taking notes. Both ladies listened intently as he outlined the small battle and how Draco had ended up saving them. Ami nodded at this, looking slightly relieved.
When he had finished, the room become oddly silent. They all looked at each other for a long moment before Rachel cleared her throat and looked down on at her notes. A lengthy pause followed.
"Harry, I'm going to have to match this information together and make sure we're on the same page. If what you say is true…"
Harry just nodded, unsure of exactly what she meant.
"I'll have to continue the discussion on magical history at a later date, once I do a bit of research. I'd still like to go over some of the Magus abilities with you though."
"What sort of abilities?"
"There's a vast range really. In fact, I suspect that what we even know about Magus abilities is not all encompassing. There are great healing powers; if you were injured, you could heal yourself without wand or spell. The ability to become an Animagus without much training, telepathy, power over languages, invisibility, ability to time travel-"
"Time travel?"
"Of course. I don't know much about that. I have some books on Magus legend if you'd like."
"That would be wonderful."
She nodded and scratched something on the piece of parchment in front of her. "The books would probably explain all this better than I. The real point of these lessons is to work with you and develop the talents you're showing naturally. Obviously, we can pass over any sort of Animagus lessons and Ami would like to work with you on languages. How many are you fluent in?"
"Seven. Well, six, but I know enough Finnish to get by," Ami answered.
Harry gave his aunt a lopsided smile and looked at Rachel again. "Do you speak any languages?"
She nodded. "French, Italian and German. Latin as well."
"Did you teach Hermione to speak any languages?"
"She is well versed in Latin, I suspect it has helped her a great deal in her studies, as was the point of it. She knows French as well."
"Dumbledore said that you're a magical historian."
"Indeed. I studied at a school in Italy, learning from some of the greatest historians of our time. I met Rick in school and we were married shortly after college. I knew your parents quite well, they were both two years behind me here at Hogwarts and I worked closely with them when they became Prefects. I was a Prefect as well, though in Ravenclaw, and was Head Girl."
"How did you meet?" Harry asked, looking at both his aunt and Rachel.
"Through your mum," Ami said quietly.
"Oh. Mione and I found a picture of all of you at some party. She was very excited about it." Harry couldn't be sure if their matching smiles came from the mention of the picture or of nickname for Hermione.
"Mmm…yes. I believe it was two years before-rather, it was right before your mum was pregnant with you. That would have been right before Rick and I left the wizarding world." Her voice was becoming softer and had a tinge of sadness to it. "Actually, Ami left shortly after we did, didn't you?"
"Yes. I believe my disappearance was just a few months after yours. It's strange, after all these years, the events of those few months are sort of blurry. Everything happened so fast."
Both witches look deeply saddened and Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He peeked at his watch quickly.
"It's nearly time for me to leave, I need to get back to my dorm. Same time next week?" he asked, giving them a small smile.
Ami collected herself first, shaking her head slightly. "Of course! It was good to see you Harry. Come visit us. It's gets dreadfully boring sitting around the castle all day."
"Yes, yes. I'll bring those books around sometime tomorrow. If you speak with Hermione, send her my love. And her father's."
"I will. Thanks for your help."
They stood when he did and walked with him part of the way back to the entrance hall. He waved as they ducked down a stone corridor and walked the rest of the way back to his dorm alone. As was the usual, he was rather pensive. He checked his watch once more and quickened his pace.
By the time he had settled into his room, the Pensieve potion was ready. He turned the heat off completely and waved his hand gently over the cauldron, stirring the contents slowly. The purple liquid has gained a sort of transparent quality, though Harry could not see the bottom of his cauldron. He picked up the book that had been lying on his desk and opened it to his marked page.
Following the brewing of the Pensieve contents, it is necessary to use the proper spell for using the potion with the actual Pensieve basin.
The passage continued, naming off certain condition that must be met for crafting. He read and reread the instructions until his vision blurred. Realizing he was exhausted, Harry looked at Snape's instructions for storage of the potion and quickly went about putting his things away. It didn't take him long to clean up and get ready for bed ad he was soon lying against the down pillows, his eyelids heavy and his mind beginning to slip off into darkness.
Harry looked at the stack of heavy, leather bound books on his desk. Rachel had dropped off the volumes fifteen minutes prior, making a passing comment about some light reading before dashing off to work on an assignment for Dumbledore. Part of him was anxious to read through them, to discover more about himself, but a large side of longed to be outside, enjoying the summer weather. He turned in his chair towards the corner of his room.
The Firebolt was perched in the corner, beckoning to him. He looked guiltily again at the books. He knew Hermione would have insisted that he read the books. Hermione isn't here, he thought to himself. The choice was obvious and he was across the room in an instant. He had grabbed the broom and reached for the door handle when he heard a soft fluttering near the window. A medium, tawny coloured owl was perched on his windowsill. Harry's heart leapt into his throat as he recognized the bird.
It was clutching a letter and flew off once Harry had untied it. He quickly broke the wax seal on the parchment envelope, nearly tearing the parchment in his haste to get it open.
Harry,
I can't believe that they would ever try to impose sanctions on muggleborns like that! Does no one learn from history? Not to mention that the closing of several shops, muggleborn owned and operated or not, will be horrendous for the economy, which is in terrible shape as it is! Truthfully, I'm not that worried for my own wellbeing, but think of the others from school that are muggleborns. Isn't it obvious to the wizarding population that something dark and sinister is behind this?
It's strange to be in a wizarding household while all of this happening. With Dumbledore in charge of Hogwarts, there will always be a safe place for muggleborns, so it really doesn't worry me. However, there is a sense of general indifference here. I know with everything else going on, the wellbeing of a bunch of strangers isn't that much of a concern, but really, no one here seems to care either way. I wonder if this is the reaction of most others. I've written to Dumbledore but haven't heard back from him yet.
On another note, I'm anxious to come back to school. I had originally planned on coming home much sooner, but Mrs Weasley has asked me to help with some things around here. I feel somewhat obligated to stay, as she has done so much for me over the years, but I really want to be there. I miss you terribly. I will be back a few days before the wedding and Ron will be arriving shortly after me. He misses you too.
Write soon. I know I haven't been the best about keeping up with your letters, but it's wonderful to hear from you. I can't wait to see you.
Love from Hermione
Harry smiled to himself as he reread the letter. The opening paragraph was even written angrily. The handwriting was forced and sharper, and there were a few ink splotches on the page. He could imagine Hermione's reaction to his letter and picture her angrily scratching this letter onto a piece of parchment. As terrible as the situation was, he couldn't help but grin at the thought of Hermione's irritation.
He set the letter down on his desk and looked back at the broom. For some reason, the urge to take a flight around the grounds had left him. He grabbed the first book from the stack and carried it out into the lounge. Sprawling on the sofa, he opened the book to the first page and began reading.
He stared into the blackness above him, the ceiling in the room far too high to be seen in the dark. He turned his head to the side, searching the nightstand for the clock. He reached his hand out, brushing over the objects on the small table. His fingers found the cold metal outline of his glasses and he picked them, placing them on his face so that he could read the clock. Three forty eight. He sighed with resignation and pushed the duvet cover off. His feet hit the cool stone floor and he shivered slightly. He slid off the bed and walked towards his wardrobe.
Fifteen minutes later he was walking through the entrance hall. After dressing and casting a silence spell over himself and Daryl, he had donned the invisibility cloak and made for the common room, leaving a very angry Chief Pip in his dorm.
They meandered through the halls at a snail's pace, Harry stopping occasionally to look at a painting or to decide their route. He found himself in a narrow, moonlit corridor. The tall windows looked out over the Forbidden Forest and Harry stopped to look. The brilliant silver moon shone brightly on the dew topped trees and he could see a light wind ruffling the branches. Occasionally, some winged creature would flutter across the view and he would watch its flight until it disappeared. Daryl tugged slightly at her lead after some time and he allowed her to lead him further down the corridor.
They came to a staircase and Harry pulled out his wand, lighting their way down the dark stairs. The staircase was long and bending, the darkness enveloping them as the light from the moonlit hall above faded. His steps were quiet and careful, the light from his wand not enough to accurately brighten the increasing darkness. After what seemed like fifty steps, the ground flattened out and Harry found himself in a very dimly lit, very narrow hall. He walked slowly, unsure of where he was.
Suddenly, he slammed into something. He stumbled and lost his balance, slipping backwards as the Invisibility Cloak slid off. He heard a low whisper and was surprised to see Draco Malfoy appear in front of him.
"Potter." His voice was cold, matching his grey eyes for every degree of ice.
"What are you doing here?" Harry implored, still sprawled on the ground.
"I could ask you the same question." Malfoy raised his eyebrow.
"I couldn't sleep, I was-Hey! I don't have to answer to you!"
Draco rolled his eyes as he nudged the cloak with the toe of his shoe. "An Invisibility Cloak, I see. I should have figured."
Harry shifted uncomfortably, remembering third year when he and Ron had played a joke on Malfoy. He didn't answer and just looked at the other boy.
Those colds eyes cut right through him, leaving Harry feeling challenged. He stared back, hoping he looked half as testy as the boy glaring down at him. Without breaking the eye contact, Harry pushed himself off of the floor, brushing off his trousers. As soon as they were face to face, Harry timidly opened him mouth to speak.
"What?"
More glaring.
Growing a little braver, Harry straightened himself out. "Are you going to say something or just stand there and glare?"
Draco just narrowed his eyes into slits and set his jaw before edging past Harry and continued up the stairs, leaving him to wonder at the odd exchange. He shook his head slightly and with a shrug of his shoulders, was off and moving away from the staircase that Malfoy was currently ascending.
He folded the Invisibility Cloak under his arm, feeling as if it was now useless, his private counsel disturbed. Daryl trotted along happily next to him, stopping to sniff at a corner or a spot on the floor.
As he walked through the eerily quiet castle, heading back towards his room, Harry's thoughts turned to Hermione once again. He sighed inwardly, letting the longing he had been denying wash over him. He missed her. He sunk down against the stone wall, resting his head back against it. Daryl snuggled next to him as his mind flooded with thoughts of everything over the past month. He recalled his journal entries, so full of detail, and yet lacking any subjective view. He thought of Arthur Weasley and the countless muggleborns being hurt by recent events. And he suddenly found himself overwhelmed.
He didn't know how long he sat in the corridor, his head reeling with guilt and angst, but when he finally looked up, he saw a soft orange light beginning to filter in through the windows. Rising from the ground, he picked up Daryl, who had long since fallen asleep, and trudged slowly back towards his dorm.
He stared at the empty page in the notebook. He had finished the journaling of events, yet he felt his work was incomplete. He held the pen poised over the first line, his hand shaking ever so slightly. He sighed audibly and dropped the pen onto the desk. Raking his hands through his hair, he thought of the letter from Hermione. Why wasn't she coming back yet? Everything was fine at the Weasleys'. His mind reeled and he tried to cap his frustrations.
He glanced at his surroundings, feeling as if the walls were closing in on him. Abruptly, he skidded back his chair, nearly knocking it over, and in two long strides, he was at the door. He grabbed Daryl's lead from the hook near the door and whistled for her. She jumped from the bed and was swiftly at his heels, with Pip right behind her. After fastening the lead, he yanked open his door and strode out of the common room. His steps echoed loudly in the vast entrance hall and within a few short minutes, he was out of the castle, out into the bright, sunny day.
He stopped just outside the door to unfasten the lead from Daryl's collar. The small dog was clamouring to run free, but he held her for a moment, taking in a deep, calming breath. He started out across the lawn, heading for the lake. Daryl and Pip were scampering ahead, revelling in the summer sunshine. Harry made his way slowly across the green grass, taking in the cool breeze and the summery scents it brought. He closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth on his face.
After a bit, he reached the edge of the lake and settled himself in the grass. Daryl and Pip were frolicking about some ten yards away. He sighed again and leaned back to rest his tired eyes.
Harry laid in the sun for a good half hour, basking in the warmth and light that was a refreshing break from the bleak, stone castle. His mind had turned to happier thoughts and memories. With a pang, he remembered Christmas Day and the kiss he had shared with Hermione. Feelings of elation and deep sadness welled inside him and he once again felt himself spiralling into feelings of loneliness.
A sharp bark pulled him from his reflections. He opened his eyes, blinking against the white light and turned to where Daryl and Pip were. The dog and the bear were standing closer to him, facing towards the gates of Hogwarts on the other side of the lake. Harry watched as they creaked open and a single, black, horseless carriage slowly made its way up the lane to Hogwarts. Curiously, he got to his feet, brushing his trousers off as he began the walk back towards the castle. He wondered who could be in the carriage, as it would be a few weeks before any wedding guests or professors would be arriving.
He was within distance of the carriage as it shuttered to a stop. A few short moments after it had halted, the door flung open and a head emerged from the shadowed depths.
His heart stopped.
In an instant, she had completely stepped from the carriage and was in his arms. He pulled her tight against him and she snaked her arms around his neck. He pulled back slightly from their embrace to look into her eyes.
Toffee brown and reflective of every emotion tearing through him, her eyes pierced him, sending a river of emotion flooding through him.
The mood shifted dramatically. He pulled her face words him, beading his head down. Their lips collided and he felt her stumble slightly. He nearly stumbled himself, riding out the wave of urgency surging through him. Her hands were in his hair, running across his neck, playing down his back, grasping at his arms. His hands moved from her face, combing through her hair, roaming over her, feeling every curve of her torso, resting lightly on her hips for a moment before beginning their travels up towards her neck, finding themselves once more on her face.
She moaned against his lips and he parted them almost immediately. Hers did the same and she moaned softly again. Their kiss deepened as every thought vanished through Harry's conscience as he explored her mouth. He felt as if he was falling and his mind began to spin. His heart jumped to his throat and the falling stopped abruptly. His mind cleared and his sense sharpened.
He heard the clattering of the horseless carriage moving away and the scuffles of the animals; cat, dog, and teddy bear once more reunited. The cool breeze played through her curls ad ruffled the hair hanging on his forehead. The sweet scents of summer wildflowers tickled his nostrils. He did not move.
Their lips separated, and he took a step back from her, catching her gaze once more. Her eyes were roaming over his face and he knew his did the same. He desperately worked, memorizing every line of her face, imprinting the image of her visage on his soul, his heart never wanting to forget every detail of this moment. His hands were on her face once more, wiping away the few tears that had begun to slide down her sun kissed cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. He leaned down and kissed her once more, softly, quickly.
She pulled back and their stares locked once more.
"I've missed you."
He grinned at her. "What are you doing here? I thought you weren't coming back for awhile."
It was her turn to grin. "Two reasons. The first being that I missed you horribly."
He hugged her again. "I'm so glad you're back. I was worried sick about you."
"So was Dumbledore. That's the second reason." She hugged him back.
They each pulled back and looked at each other again, wearing identical grins.
"Let's take your things inside." Harry picked up one of the suitcases that had been left when the carriage had pulled away and Hermione grabbed her owl's cage. They linked hands and walked into the school, not taking their eyes off each other.
Later on, after Hermione had settled back into her room, they walked down towards the kitchen for lunch. When they were seated on the table, Harry looked at Hermione. He opened his mouth to speak…
"Not now Harry."
Thanks to everyone who review WA1. Also, thanks to Elliott and Julien, my beta readers. Please review! For updates, art, and ficlets visit The Power of Three! at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/powerthree .