Disclaimer: "Harry Potter" and every one of its characters belong to JK Rowling! I own only this plot, and all the characters you don't recognize
Summary: In the future, Voldemort is no longer the terrible threat that begins to loom over the horizon. How can the survivors of the war believe the truth they have been told - a truth that condemns someone they loved and honored? A story of love, faith, loyalty and the legacy somebody left behind ...
Note: Set in the future. The trio are all 21 years old, and I think some of this story might be A/U.
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Stained Legacy
Chapter Five: Life
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Jerked out of his daze by the insistent questions and inquires spewing from his young friends, Remus finally lifted his stunned gaze from the wrinkled old parchment and with an unsteady hand, handed it over to Hermione, who looked down at the writing with Harry and Ron peering curiously over her shoulder. Just like old times, she thought briefly, but her thoughts were quickly diverted.
The parchment had clearly been torn neatly out of a very old book, and the Golden Trio was considerably, and understandably (they felt), startled by the title of this page:
The Sphere of Pagnon, by Augustus Grimp
They all stared at each other for a long moment, and then Remus came back to his seat in an armchair, and looked at the younger occupants of the room. "Dumbledore's been searching for days for information, and it looks like we have it here. Maybe this could finally solve our problems and save a world from new evil. Hermione, why don't you read what it says out loud?"
"Sure," Hermione complied, and cleared her throat a little, and began to read:
Very little is known about the Sphere of Pagnon, and indeed, there have been times in recent history (and even now) where it was in serious doubt whether this marvellous globe actually ever existed. However, it is the belief of I, Augustus Grimp [Professor Grimp is well known for his work in alchemy and divination], that this miraculous device is very much in existence, although there has been no concrete proof of this.
Pagnon was an ancient wizard of Muggle descent, who became a recluse in his secret caves high up in the mountains of Norway, where he worked feverishly with the alignment of the stars and potions of nature. Thus, after nearly a century of work, he created a small globe of intense light. It was forged from the famous Northern Lights, up near the North Pole, and the alchemy of the ocean and underground salts. This globe was said to be enchanted with the power of the planets, a power that can be surpassed by no other. The Sphere of Pagnon is the greatest weapon to have ever been created.
Legend foretells that the Sphere may only be destroyed by the magic of a Chosen One, one who has been selected by fate to be born to two parents of magical orientation, into the time where the Sphere is put into use. May the Gods protect the world and the Chosen One when the time comes.
The magic of this Sphere runs thus: the stars align once every two thousand years, at midnight on the thirty-first day of the twelfth month of that particular year. When the complete alignment occurs, at that moment, it will generate such a concentrated beam of magic that it will flow directly to the Sphere, but only if it has been set upon the highest point within a mile radius. If this occurs, the Sphere's power will automatically retain the magic of the stars, and once the moment is gone, it will be retained for the next two thousand years.
Once this occurs, anyone in possession with the Sphere of Pagnon will have the ability to create and generate power and magic unlike anything ever seen before on this earth.
A long pause greeted the end of her words, and Hermione understood perfectly. While reading the page, she'd experienced a distinct sense of disbelief and shock, and the horror that there was someone out in their world, in possession of this Sphere, was enough to terrify a brick wall.
"Well," Ron said with his usual tact, "Aren't we in trouble!"
Harry groaned.
"We have to get this to Dumbledore," Hermione said, at once assuming charge of the situation, her methodical, thoughtful voice filling the silence, "He'll know how to deal with this, at least for now. None of us are going to be able to figure out this Chosen One, because there are no clues except for the fact that his or her parents will be a witch and wizard - so we can leave that out for now. Destroying the Sphere isn't our first priority, finding it is. And we'll have to check the planetary charts. We need to know when the next alignment is."
She had no idea how she was able to sound so cool, calm and collected, but somehow, she was managing it. Already, Ron looked less agitated, and Remus cast her a grateful, slightly impressed look. Then he said, looking around, "Can one of us Apparate outside Hogwarts and get to Dumbledore now? He'd want to hear about this rigth away."
"I'll go," Harry offered, standing up. "I'd like some reassurance from old Dumbledore anyway." He smirked, and with a wink and a nod, he took the parchment that Hermione held out to him. With a nod, he Disapparated and was gone.
"And now for the charts," Hermione said. She was about to stand up when both Remus and Ron pushed her back down. "What?" She protested, puzzled.
"Dumbledore will handle the charts in a second," Remus said firmly, "You've been hurt and you're tired. We all are. Quite honestly, I think finishing our Butterbeers and going to bed and getting a good night's sleep for once will do us all some good, rather than going traipsing about a cold London November in an attempt to find magical charts at some library."
"Fair point," Hermione conceded, with a sigh. "But I still - "
In response, Ron promptly clapped a hand over her mouth and cut off any further speech. She was inclined to be indignant, but with some indulgence, figured that one more day of not working her brains out wouldn't kill her - at least not right away.
Before they went to bed, however, there was a surprisingly quick disturbance in the form of the current messenger. Harry returned with a loud Crack!. He was shivering, clearly from stumbling in the magical Hogwarts snow, and was given a Butterbeer to warm him up, before he sat down and looked at them all with a rather grim expression on his face.
"Well," he said, and from his tone, Hermione knew at once that the news was not good. "Dumbledore read the parchment and was thrilled with us for bringing it for him, but neither he nor Professor McGonagall were happy. Apparently, this is worse than they thought, because the only real hope for us is to find the Sphere of Pagnon before anyone can use it. If we can't do that, the only thing left is for the Chosen One to destroy the Sphere, which is unlikely at this point because I don't have a clue who this Chosen person is. I think Dumbledore might suspect, though, but he said nothing."
"Merlin's beard," Ron groaned.
Hermione and Remus exchanged wary, tired looks of resignation, but then Harry said, "Wait, it gets worse, I'm afraid," (Ron let out a furious oath) " - They found out when the next planetary alignment is." He sighed, pausing as they all stared at him. "And here we have it: Midnight on December 31st, 2001. By 2001, of course, I mean this damned year."
"And we're in early November now," Hermione moaned.
"MERLIN'S BEARD." Ron swore.
"But on the bright side - "
"Oh, there's a bright side, is there?"
" - We shouldn't have anything to worry about really," Harry continued, ignoring his best friend's sarcasm, "Because last we heard, the Sphere of Pagnon was with the murderer of Aberforth Dumbledore, and - and well - the murderer of Aberforth Dumbledore - is - dead."
Hermione swallowed hard. "You call that a bright side? I can't believe Sirius would have done this! Why? Why would he have ever wanted such power? He was never so damned ambitious!"
"We're at a dead end again, aren't we, 'Mione?" Remus said quietly.
"I don't really consider it a bright side either," Harry exhaled heavily, "But it's the only silver lining to the cloud that we have. Either way, Dumbledore says there's no need to panic - " (Ron snorted, eliciting quick grins from the others) " - and that it would be best to find the Sphere of Pagnon before the alignment, just in case it's fallen into someone else's hands."
Hermione rubbed her forehead. "That's easier said than done."
"Yeah, I know." Harry admitted.
Remus looked thoughtful. "I suppose it would be wise to find the Sphere - of course it would - but unfortunately, we don't have an inkling of an idea of where to start looking. None of us seem to have any recollection of Sirius mentioning it at any point in time - " He swallowed and shook his head sadly in disbelief, " - And there's been no record of it over the past few years, or even decades! Only Dumbledore can find us a hint about where to begin searching, and that may - "
"Uh - well, actually, Remus," Harry interjected apologetically. "Dumbledore does have a couple of ideas. He suggested that you Apparate over to Yorkshire tomorrow, to the inn of some wizard named Genesis Monroe, and scout him out for a few days. Apparently, he's gotten reports about suspicions beams of light around the guy - from wizards, mind, which means they must be suspicious indeed."
"I'd be happy to go," Remus nodded agreeably. "A few days, Dumbledore says? Well, of course."
"And you and I, Ron," Harry added, looking at his best friend, "We're supposed to visit the old headquarters of the Death Eaters, where some of the weaker, injured and repentant ones still lurk. We're supposed to stay there for a few days as well, and watch them for any suspicious behavior, and then interrogate them about any rumors they may be hearing among the evil circles."
"Cool," Ron agreed, grinning. "I've been wanting to pay a visit to our old friends anyway."
Hermione personally thought Dumbledore had been remarkably swift with his ideas, and they were certainly wise decisions. She wondered why he hadn't given her something to do, and then reflected that someone was needed to keep an eye on things in London while the two young Aurors and the member of the Order were away.
"Yeah," Harry nodded, "But I have an Auror mission tomorrow, remember, so I'll have to join you at the moor the day after. You'll be fine for a day on your own. Just keep out of trouble," he teased, grinning. Ron conjured up a pillow and hurled it at him. "And 'Mione, I'll send Sean back by Floo Powder, when I'm done on the mission. He's a smart kid, and if it's okay with you, I'm sure he'll be fine if he says the address right."
At this point, Hermione said, "I certainly hope so. It's fine, Harry, but maybe I should get Hagrid to keep an eye out at all the dicey locales." There was a great deal of laughter, and then she added, "But I'm actually glad Dumbledore hasn't give me something to do out of town; I really couldn't leave Sean behind for more than a few days at a time."
"I'm sure Dumbledore understood that," Remus agreed, "And besides, he needs a reliable, clever somebody keeping an eye on the situations in London." He added, voicing Hermione's earlier thoughts.
Harry added, "Yup, Dumbledore told me that and also told me specifically to tell you to stay with Sean for most of the time while we're gone. Professor McGonagall will babysit sometimes, she said. Apparently, they're feeling rather grandparent-y and protective already."
They all laughed at that.
Remus turned to Hermione, "Well, if the three of us are taking off tomorrow, you and Sean will be alone here for a few days. Will you be all right, 'Mione?"
"Of course I will," Hermione smiled, knowing she'd need a lot of cheering up, but that there would be Sean, 'Aunt Minerva', and a lot of members of the Order to do the trick. "Don't worry, Remus, I'll definitely be fine on my own. Honestly."
"I know you will. Remember, if you ever need anything, you can either Apparate over there or send Pig right away to any of us. Ron will leave him with you, won't you, Ron, and we'll be right back in a second if you need anything - "
"Hey - Daddy!" She laughed teasingly. "I'll be fine."
Yet two days later, she had to admit she was lonely. She was in Diagon Alley, accompanied by Crookshanks, and getting some shopping done (an attempt at 'girl fun'). Sean was in the penthouse with Aunt Tonks, who'd dropped in to visit and chased Hermione away with the command to have fun. Personally, Hermione had some severe doubts about Tonks' capability of keeping herself - let alone Sean - out of trouble, but she'd agreed nonetheless.
Sean, she'd heard, had had a great time watching Uncle Harry at work. It would become habit, if Hermione wasn't careful.
Smiling slightly to herself, she wandered towards the ice cream parlour. Before she could sit down with her cherry-and-strawberry soda (with strawberries that kept dancing in and out of the wretched drink), a young woman with spectacles raced over, beaming at Hermione although the younger girl had no clue who this woman was.
"Hermione? Hermione Granger?" The woman asked eagerly.
Hermione stared at her warily. "Uh - do I know you?"
"Oh no, but I know all about you, of course, Hermione," The woman chattered, beaming still. A piece of parchment appared in her hands, and a quill began dancing about the page. "My name is Jenny Skeeter, and I'm a reporter for the - " As the woman went on, Hermione was forcibly (and unpleasantly) reminded of Jenny's older sister, Rita Skeeter. "You're Harry Potter's right-hand woman, Dumbledore's daughter figure, Sirius Black's - "
"Do you want something?" Hermione cut her off coldly before she could get too close to home. Besides, she was a person in her own identity, not attached to someone else's name! "I'm afraid I'm rather busy, and I have to - "
"This won't take long, dear," To Hermione's annoyance, Jenny Skeeter sat down in the chair opposite her outside the ice cream parlour. "Oh, a cherry-strawberry soda! I must have something just as delectable, although you must be very bold, to be able to risk your lovely figure like that!" (Hermione was not enamored by that comment) "Ah, yes, I'd like a Fizze Wizzbee Pop. Large, no foam - no, I'm afraid I'll decline the offer of the fizzing fountain of plum juice to rain down my head. Thank you."
She turned back to Hermione as if they were old, close friends. "Don't you just detest having plum juice cascade down your neck? Why they offer it is beyond me, really! I mean, I must have declined it at least twenty times till now, Hermione, and I know they remember all their customers. I mean, don't you ever wonder, dear, why people just can't take a wretched hint?"
"All the time," Hermione gritted out pointedly. Unfortunately, this hint was not destined to be taken, because Jenny Skeeter continued rattling on. After five minutes of non-stop jabber, Crookshanks took a hand in the affair by jumping off Hermione's lap abruptly, letting out a surprising purr, and taking off in the direction of the nearby bushes.
Gratefully, distracted, Hermione looked after her cat, and saw that he seemed to have made friends with some other animal - it was half-hidden by the bushes, but it looked a little like a dog, perhaps. However, when she turned back to the ridiculously annoying reporter, Miss Skeeter was still talking. Unable to take it any longer, Hermione unceremoniously interrupted and demanded again what exactly the reporter wanted.
Jenny blinked, and then beamed again. "Oh well, I just happen to be dying for a scoop for the paper, Hermione dear, and I'm sure you must know who the murderer of Aberforth Dumbledore was, so it would be ever so sweet of you and I'd be ever so grateful if you could - "
Hermione sighed heavily. "You're still stuck on that? Don't you people come up with any new material?" She asked irritably.
"Oh, well - "
"Excuse me, I think you're in my seat," A highly amused voice spiced with feigned indignation cut into the conversation. "Do be so kind as to remove yourself."
With muttered apologies, Jenny Skeeter hurried out of the chair, pausing only long enough (in the face of the expectant glare she was receiving) to tell Hermione she'd love it if the younger girl would give her an owl sometime. Then she was gone, in a swish of ludicrous neon silk, and Hermione grinned with eternal gratitude as a stocky, redheaded figure dropped into the vacated chair, laughing at her.
"You deserve a Purple Heart for that, George," she said fervently.
"What's a Purple Heart?" George Weasley inquired curiously, his eyes twinkling in amusement. "And I'm Fred, by the way. Heck, 'Mione, you'd think that after ten years of being friends, you'd know which was which!"
"Nice try, George."
He laughed, pretending to be crestfallen. "Oh well, I never could get out of the habit of loving that old joke," he explained with a grin. "So, been having trouble with the reporters these days, huh? I'm not surprised. They've even been mobbing us because we're 'members of the Order of the Phoenix and brothers of Ron, Harry Potter's sidekick'." He looked disgusted. "After all the trouble Fred and I took to deny any acknowledgement of Ron, too."
"I suppose you've heard," Hermione raised her eyebrows, a sharp stab hitting her as she thought about it - again.
George nodded. "Yeah, we've heard. Mum, despite all her disapproval, refuses to accept it, and hexes anyone who brings the topic up at home. I gotta say myself, I can't believe Sirius was capable of it. I mean - it was Sirius. Not Wormtail, not Snape, not even Mundungus."
"I know, George," Hermione sighed. "But no one can find an explanation for why Scarlett Fetcherly could have seen anything else? And the possibility of Polyjuice Potion crossed our minds, but there's also no reason for anyone to have wanted to frame Sirius for being a murderer that might never have been pinpointed."
He shrugged. "Some things just can't be figured out. Wish he was alive, though. Although death's probably a better option than Azkaban. He knew what it was like; I doubt he'd have wanted to go back there." George paused, and then, with a grin, he pulled something out of his coat pocket. It was an old album, medium-sized and clearly full of photographs. "I found this at the Burrow when I visited the other day. I figure you or Harry must have left in Ron's room a long, long time ago - and since it was covered in dust, under a huge pile of rubbish, it must have been long forgotten."
"It's Sirius's photograph album of his Hogwarts days, and the recent times we'd all had," Hermione said, her eyes misting over as she held the leather-bound book. "Harry did leave it there; we found it in Grimmauld Place when - when we cleaned out his room."
"I thought you might like it," The Weasley twin smiled, clearly happy at the expression on her face.
She smiled. "Thanks, George."
There was a knock on the door.
Hermione looked at her watch. It had now been four days since the men had left the apartment, and she'd heard vague updates by owl post. Sean was fast asleep in bed. Her watch read ten o' clock. Who could be knocking on the penthouse door at this hour? Maybe there was something wrong ...
She shut the photo album, slipped her wand into the pocket of her denim shorts, and went to the door, opening it only to find Harry and Ron's neighbour, Mrs. Peabody, a friendly, motherly Muggle woman who lived two floors below, standing outside and smiling apologetically.
"Hello, Hermione dear," she said, "So sorry for coming by so late, but I just returned from the theatre, and was downstairs on the pavement outside, when I saw this poor dog wandering about in such a lonely fashion." She indicated something in the corridor, but it was out of sight for Hermione. "And I tried to feed it, when wouldn't you know? It had a scrap of paper it its mouth, with this address on it."
Hermione stiffened ever so slightly. "Really?" She frowned, puzzled.
"Yes, oh - here he is."
The dog came into view. It was large, beautiful, black - and familiar. Hermione froze, and stared at the dog like she couldn't believe her eyes. She couldn't. She had to be seeing wrong - of course she was - all the thoughts she'd been having lately had played havoc on her mind and she was warping reality now ... she had to be ...
"Are you all right, dear?" Mrs. Peabody asked worriedly, as the dog whined softly at Hermione. "You look a little - faint."
Hermione tried to shake herself out of the trance, but the images in her vision didn't change. The dog's appearance didn't change. She swallowed hard, trying to regain hold of her control, and managed, "Oh - yes, yes the dog - belongs here. He - he's been gone for a long time - we - we thought he was dead, so I'm - I'm a little - shocked."
."I understand, dear, of course. Although I didn't know Harry and Ron had a dog?"
"He's - he's mine," Hermione murmured, her voice sounding faraway and unlike her own. The dog looked up and her with what was unmistakably a humorous look, and she might have blushed had the circumstances been different - very different. "Yes. Thank - thank you, Mrs. Peabody - for - for finding - and returning - him. I - appreciate it. Goodnight."
She closed the door after the dog walked slowly into the apartment, and stood still by the couch, watching the animal as if in a daze. In a streak of colour, Crookshanks burst from Hermione's room, purred by her and then wandered straight up to the dog, purring affectionately.
"It's finally happened," Hermione murmured weakly, trying to shake the fixed image out of her head, because it could not be real! "Finally, I've finally gone mad. Dear God, this can't be real ... I'm seeing things ... like I need any more trouble, I'm actually seeing things ... oh, my ..." Her voice and breath caught as the dog gave her that humorous look again, only this time it had a hint of regret in it.
And then, the large black dog turned into a man.
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A/N: Ha! I love moments like these in stories ... I hope you guys like it too! Updates coming as soon as I possibly can!
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