The Druids Apprentice
Ch 7
"You're Harry Potter." James looked at the boy uncomprehending, "Yes..." "But... you're famous." The blond said. "Am not." The raven-haired boy seemed confused and not a little put out by Draco's insistence. "You are... You-know-who killed your parents, he tried to kill you as well but it backfired somehow." Shaking his head James replied, "No... they died in a car crash... my aunt and uncle told me so." "No, they didn't," said the real Harry. "Draco's right. I don't know why your family told you what they did but you're famous, 'the boy who lived.'"
They spent the next half hour convincing James of who he was and his place in the wizarding world, the boy looked confused and more than a little upset. "But if all this is true, then why would my family lie to me?" Harry shook his head, "I don't know but maybe because it's so much... I mean they were murdered... maybe they were trying to protect you from it." The boy nodded absently, wanting to ask his aunt and uncle but knowing how they were he doubted he'd like the answer.
He turned to Draco and said, You said your father used to be a death-eater, he served Voldemort." The blond flinched from both the boys tone and use of the dark lords name though he wasn't at all prepared for the following accusation. "He could have had a hand in my parents death."
Draco sat unmoving, thunderstruck by the boys accusation. His face became flushed with anger and he said, "No! My father isn't like that... The only reason he follows V... him.. Is that they agree about purebloods being better than mud bloods."
"Draco!" Harry snapped at the boy, "You can think whatever you want but don't use that word here..." He turned to James and continued, "And you... You've never even met Mr. Malfoy. Both of you calm down, we've go to go down to the village shortly. The two of you stay here and try not to injure each other while I tell grandfather where we're going."
Harry left them in the garden staring uneasily at each other. As soon as he was out of their sight his face fell as he roamed the corridors of the manor and let his mind wander over the events of the last day. With his grandfathers help he'd arranged for james to stay with them for a week and be free of the Dursleys until their return. He had introduced Ron Weasley to the fact that he counted Draco Malfoy as a friend and the results hadn't been glowing. Now that same friend was on the verge of a fistfight with Harry's own twin over an act that the boys father, Lucius, may or may not have participated in nine years ago. What really ate at Harry as he searched for his grandfather wasn't Draco's reaction, or even James to that possibility, but his own.
Entering the great hall the boy found his mentor standing before the statue of the lady, lost in thought. "This was to be the seat of civilization when we constructed it so long ago... The dream of a pure soul that never found fruition in his time. And here we are again, my dear lady, on the brink of enlightenment or chaos." The ancient druid blinked as if waking from a trance and turned to the boy. "Good morning Harry, you're off to the village this morning then?"
The boy didn't answer immediately. He stared at the statue for a moment and asked a question of his own. "Do you ever miss them? Your parents I mean."
Surprised by the boys question, the old man answered, "I'm somewhat of a special case Harry. My father was and is quite... unique though I've never met him. Mother was a mage of some great power and as she died giving birth to me I have no memory of her either. What suddenly has you so interested in our ancestry my boy?"
Harry sat on the edge of the fountain and ran his fingers through the water. "James accused Draco's father of helping in our parents deaths. My brother was so upset I thought he'd hit him."
Merrill's face was inscrutable as he answered, "It would be expected. Save your aunt and uncle, who I would hardly call 'family,' the memories of your parents are the only people that have truly cared for him. The realization that Draco's father may have been involved in their deaths would be quite unsettling."
"It was," the boy responded, "for him." Merrill waited patiently until the boy continued. "You remember when I talked to you about Diagon alley and how the story we made up affected me?" The old man nodded in assent. "It was like that... I feel them in there, a flash of sadness that they're gone or a need to see justice done for their murder but..." Harry met his grandfathers eyes with a look of trouble and uncertainty. "It's almost like they're not real... What's wrong with me?"
Sitting down by the boy, the old man put a comforting arm around him. "There's noting wrong with you lad. In fact you have the benefit of something that James Hasn't, you've been allowed to move on. He is living his life thinking that he is Harry Potter. Your aunt, uncle and cousin are horrible to him so he put his dead parents up on a pedestal. They mean so much to him because they represent the love that he's denied in real life. You, on the other hand," Merrill gave the boys shoulder an extra squeeze, "have a batty old grandfather that loves the devil out of you and because of that you've been able to let them go. It doesn't mean you love them any less than James, just that you are at peace with their memory."
The boy sat there a few minutes just holding on to the old druid. "Grandfather," Harry said, "There are a couple things I need to ask. Well obviously Draco knows that 'Harry Potter' is staying with us. I'm worried that he'll go straight back to his father tomorrow and tell... I need to find a way to get him to keep it secret for now. Also I'm afraid of slipping up around James anymore... trying to remember what to call him and what he knows... what should I do?"
The old man paused for though before speaking. "I'll speak with Lucius about having the boy stay the week, in that time you can either convince him to keep his silence or we'll adjust his memories about your brother. As for James himself, I've noticed the growing complexities in our little fiction. I believe our only option is to take this masquerade to the next level. From this moment on and until the reason for it has past, he will be Harry Potter just as you must remain Damon Forester."
The brown haired boy was visibly upset by the notion and started to speak but was shushed by his mentor. "Think lad, James has lived the life you'd have led, he's been Harry Potter since you both were five." The old man ran his hands through the boys hair, "I know it's a lot to ask, a name defines who you are. If you are against this I will not force you but for James sake, your own, think on it."
Harry stood, his eyes unfocused as he battled with the emotions running around inside him. Having some trouble breathing normally he tried to ask his grandfather, "Whh... James... he's..."
The old man wiped newly forming tears from the boys face and smiled gently down at him. "Harry, he is and will always be your brother. You both share a soul and will be a part of each other for the rest of your days. Know this and take comfort that in his heart he will know it as well."
With a scratchy voice and puffy eyes the boy said, "Do it."
"Right then," the old man said as he stood the boy up. I'll alter his memory spell. I think it best you go back to the garden in case he becomes disoriented. Merrill ruffled the boys hair and pushed him towards the door. "Now off with you before they think you left without them." As the boy was making to leave the room, the old man called out to him. "Damon." The boy turned back to his grandfather, "Regardless of what you're called I love the both of you boys very much and am very proud to be your grandfather."
Damon ran back to the gardens feeling much better about his decision. He found his friends chatting uncomfortably almost exactly where he'd left them. "Right then you two. Grandfather knows where we're off to, lets go."
The boys walked along the road leading to the village. Damon and Draco spent their time explaining about magic and the wizarding world to Harry. So intent on their discussion that Damon almost missed seeing the redheaded boy leaning against a tree near the path kicking dust around with his shoe.
Damon, finally noticing the redhead, called out. "Oi! Ron!" The youngest Weasley boy looked up and walked towards them with the face of someone eating something quite sour.
"Hi Damon, Harry. Look, I'm sorry about yesterday. It's just that Mr. Malfoy, Draco's father, he works with my dad at the ministry. He's seen how he really is."
"Um... Ron..." Damon said, his tone a warning to the boy. Draco stood rigid behind him, unnoticed as of yet by the redhead.
"He's a total git... Malfoy has tried loads of times to get my dad sacked. I just don't see how his son could be any different, apple from the tree and all that."
"Ron!" Damon yelled with quite a bit of force. Draco chose that moment to walk past the boys and confront the Weasley boy directly.
"Who are you then?" The blonds face was flushed with anger but his voice cold as ice. "And what makes you think you can say all those things about my father and get away with it?" Having no further use for words he shoved Ron Hard and in moments they were both on the ground pummeling each other.
"Shouldn't we do something?" asked Harry.
Damon studied the two boys wrestling on the ground. "Let them go a while. They're too hard-headed to listen to reason right now anyway." The two boys watched the action for several minutes as Ron, then Draco would get the upper hand for a few fleeting moments.
Damon's attention was suddenly drawn to the trees by a shadow moving among them. Concerned that he hadn't heard anything before that he stretched his senses outward and went rigid with alarm. Moving quickly he grabbed Draco, who was currently on top of the other boy and pulled him to his feet. "Get up both of you... we're in serious trouble."
Both boys, bloody and with new bruises forming loudly asked Damon what was wrong. "Come on." The boy said as he dragged them down the trail for several meters before stopping short. "Damn... they've blocked us off front and back... quick into the woods, follow me!"
The three boys almost questioned Damon until they noticed the shadowy figures melting out of the forest around them. They were men, or at least had the shape of men. At least a dozen, all dressed in Roman armor. They were completely black. Skin, hair, armor and weapons. Advancing on them one of the warriors walked through a tree, leaving a coat of frost on the tree where he'd touched it.
"Come on! Run!" the brown haired boy urged his companions to follow him as they darted through the woods. The creatures, surely these were no real men, continued to follow them. They moved slowly but as they simply passed through the underbrush they made better time than the four boys.
"What are they?" yelled Harry as they continued to run.
Between breaths Damon yelled back, "Shades I think, I'm not sure. Just run!"
Damon moved through the forest as only a true druid could. The underbrush almost seemed to move out of the way for him. The others were less fortunate and both Harry and Draco fell several times as they were unused to such activity. It was Ron, however, that was the first to injure himself in the chase.
As they were scrambling over a great fallen tree the boys leg slipped between some branches and as he fell over there was a faint crack followed by a scream. "Get him." ordered Damon as he dug a small berry out of his pouch.
Draco and Harry each took one of Ron's arms and ran on in the direction Damon had pointed. The brown haired boy, waiting till their backs were turned, crushed the berry in his hand and whispered a request to Bile, spirit of fire, and threw out his hand. A tongue of flame leapt forth and created a wall of magical fire that didn't touch the forest but drove back the shades temporarily. Whispering a quick thanks he ran on to join his friends.
Catching up to them took no time as they were moving at a crawl with the injured boy. They ran on, their pursuers again silently closing the distance between them. When they were almost in the range of the creatures touch they burst into a sun-dappled clearing that the shadows could not follow. One such creature that tried burst into flames and vanished.
The four gathered by a rock at the center of the clearing. Harry and Draco eased Ron down to sit against the stone as Damon checked the boys leg. The redheads lower leg and knee were swollen and red and he would hiss in pain at the slightest touch. Pulling a folding knife from his pocket, the young druid cut open the leg of Ron's jeans.
"I don't think it's a bad break but you've twisted your knee I think when you fell. Here," The boy pulled out a hand full of berries and gave one to Ron. These are called Goodberries, my grandfather makes them. They'll make you feel rested and full and heal your injuries a little. It's not strong enough to fix your leg completely so we'll likely have to splint it and carry you out... if we can get past the shades anyway."
Gazing worriedly at the milling forms Draco asked, "What do they want with us anyway? And what's keeping them from getting at us now?"
Damon shook his head. "Grandfather told me about shades before. Muggles that died some horrible way and want revenge on the living. I haven't heard anybody talking about strange occurrences in the village so something recent must have stirred them up. But the only reason they wouldn't have followed us into the clearing is that it must be holy ground, maybe a druids circle."
Irritably, Draco asked, "I don't suppose your grandfather happened to mention how to get rid of them did he?"
"No," the boy replied sheepishly. "He did say that they have to stay near their bodies and have to go back to them to rest... maybe if we wait they'll leave."
Wait the boys did. They spent hours sitting and talking about nothing and everything. Even Ron and Draco got into a spirited discussion about Quiddich. Damon sat watching the boys talk with a satisfied smile on his face when he noticed a pair of tiny blue eyes floating in the air above the rock they were sitting against.
Trying not to alarm his friends, the boy rose and attempted to get a better look. Two rows of needle-like teeth appeared as he watched. They seemed dangerous, not because of their sharpness, but rather that they resembled either one of the Weasley twins with a new victim to play with.
"Greetings Harry Potter, heir of Merlin." said a voice. Damon whipped his head around, fearing the explanations he would have to give to his friends. The other three remained oblivious, continuing their argument about who was the best quiddich team. His eyes turning back to the top of the stone he found that the form of a small dragon with butterfly-like wings had appeared and now wore the eyes and smile that had been there before. "They can't hear me young druid. I speak only to your mind and can hear your thoughts."
"Who are you?" thought the boy. "What do you want?"
"My dear boy, I am Fafnir and you children have come into my home."
The boy thought hard and sent, "You're a faerie dragon aren't you? My grandfather's mentioned your kind before... and told me to keep my distance."
Damon felt a thrill run up and down his spine. It took him a moment but he interpreted it as the creatures laugh. "How is the old coot anyway? He hasn't been back to visit since he sealed the castle. I would guess he's re-opened it as his little fan club is running through the forest again." Fafnir nodded out to the shades still waiting for the boys in the trees.
The boy was thunderstruck. "The shades? What does grandfather have to do with them?
"They're Roman soldiers, boy," said Fafnir, "sent by Caesar Constantine to re-take the British isles. They were led into a bloody ambush by the armies of Uther and by Merlin himself. If he's reopened the castle their rest would be disturbed and seek revenge again."
"So how do we stop them?" the boy asked. "We can't touch them and my friends don't know how to use magic yet."
"You cant. It is up to Merlin to put them to their final rest. Either way the shades are returning to their resting place. You can be on your way in a moment. Perhaps you'll see me again, I've been wanting to visit the old castle again for some time." With those words the little dragon vanished again and a faint whirring of wings told of its departure.
Just as Fafnir had said, the shades were no longer visible among the trees. Waiting several minutes in the waning hours of daylight they finally set off for and found the road. As the day was mostly gone they began walking back to the manor, the boys taking turns helping Ron walk.
"You know Forester," said Draco. "Every time we go somewhere we get chased or beaten up."
"I've noticed that." replied the boy.
"Thugs, ghostly soldiers and now we've broken Weasleys leg." the blond smirked, "I have only one thing to ask."
The boys passed the ridge into the valley, the sun was setting behind the castle, bathing the stones in brilliant shades of red. "Whats that?" said Damon.
"So where are we going tomorrow?"
