Dedication: This chapter is dedicated to the wonderful Lady Grizabella!!! Why? Check the A/N. *grins happily*
Chapter 13: Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Slytherin
Harry Potter stood in the Gryffindor common room, watching the outside world slowly wake up. He, however, hadn't slept all night. The whole time he'd been waiting for Azar to wake, though she had barely stirred from the couch since he'd brought her up. Initially he'd thought to take her to the hospital wing, but decided against it, in case Azar had another fit and he'd have to explain that which wasn't his to tell. The common room was the only place he could think of where she could sleep comfortably. Other than his dormitory, of course, but living nearly seven years in a castle full of teenagers had taught him, if nothing else, that a good explanation would be needed, and even then no one would believe him. The sky began to lighten from gray when Harry heard Azar finally stir. He rushed over to her, watching with shot nerves as she opened her eyes.
She stared at him groggily for a moment, then gave a big yawn. "Hey Harry."
Gingerly, she set herself up on her elbows, looking around.
"I seriously thought I'd never say this, but, where am I?" she asked, grinning incredulously.
He didn't return the smile. "The Gryffindor common room."
"So this is what it looks like?" she asked, sitting up fully and taking a better look, "Nice. I thought it'd look just like the Ravenclaw common room, except with red and gold, but this is actually quite different. I think I like Ravenclaw better."
She grinned wider at him, but he just stared, unspeaking, unmoving.
"Uh…why are you looking at me like that?" she asked, "And why am I here, for that matter?"
This gave Harry a very unpleasant jolt. It wasn't like she was joking, not that she would joke about such a thing. She didn't know.
"You mean, you don't remember? Anything?"
"What do you mean?"
"About last night. Do you remember anything about last night?"
"You mean as in pitch-black, not evening, night? No. Why? What'd I do?"
Harry sank into an armchair, not thinking he could hold himself up much longer. He put his face in his hands a moment, then closed them, as if he was praying, in front of his mouth, looking at her.
"No…dreams? Do you remember leaving your room?"
Her eyes went a bit wide, and she shook her head. Harry pulled his hands through his hair, staring at the floor and thinking.
"Harry, I don't like silence. What's going on?"
He looked at her, opened his mouth to speak then closed it. "I don't know," he said after a moment.
"Well, mind telling me what happened last night at least?"
"I…I don't know."
"You mean you don't know what happened last night?"
"No. I don't know…if I should tell you."
Azar's mouth hung open a moment, then slowly closed. "Oh. You don't think I have a right to know what's going on in my life?"
"No, no, it's not that. I'm not even sure myself, Azar. It's too much. I want to talk to someone less involved, sort things out with less confusion."
"Harry, something, anything, the smallest tidbit of what happened," Azar pleaded.
"I believe…not sure, but I think you had a prophecy," he said delicately.
"Really? But I thought I had those enough under control that I could remember them."
"This one was different. According to Firenze—"
"Whoa, who's Firenze?"
"A centaur."
"What?"
Harry stood up, shaking his head. "See? It just doesn't make sense right now. I want to ask someone about it."
Azar squinted her eyes, raising an eyebrow.
"I'm asking you to trust me on this, Azar," he pleaded.
Relenting, she sighed, standing up. "Okay, but find out soon," she said, tilting his chin up, "I expect a full report tonight. Hey, what happened to your cheek? Don't tell me you got in a fight."
She gently touched the bruise on his cheek, causing him to wince. "Don't you recognize your handiwork?" he asked, giving the closest thing to a smile he had the whole morning.
"You're joking," she said, surprised, "Harry legs, you better hurry and figure things out, 'cause I'm starting to get worried."
"No, that was the worst thing you did. Well, that and a few bruised ribs," he said, that smile growing.
"You're joking!" she cried, almost in a laugh, "Lemme see. Lift your shirt."
"No, I was kidding, Azar," he said, trying to stop her from checking, "If it was really bad, I would go to Madam Pomfrey."
"Well, how do you know if it's bad if you haven't checked it," she insisted, trying to lift his shirt while he tried to keep it down.
"Azar, let me keep some dignity, okay?"
"Oh, come on!" she cried, straightening up in a huff, "What would a peek hurt?"
Her eyes glanced over his shoulder and then her hand went to her mouth in shock. Harry spun around to see Neville Longbottom standing at the foot of the stairs, staring at them with mild surprise.
"I'll just go back to the dormitory and pretend I didn't see a thing, shall I?" he asked.
Azar burst out laughing, doubling over and trying very unsuccessfully to control herself. Harry looked back and forth between Azar and Neville, getting redder and redder.
"I'll just take that as a yes," Neville said, heading back up the stairs.
After Neville had gone, Azar still laughing, Harry looked at her, tucking in his shirt. "That probably didn't sound too good, did it?"
"No-o," she snorted, "But my, that was funny. I should probably go, shouldn't I?"
"Unless you want to go over that 'what would a peek hurt?' bit again so Paravati can here it."
Azar cracked up again. "Now that would be rich! But I'd better head over to Ravenclaw before they send a search party out for me. Bye, Harry."
"Bye, Azar," he smiled.
She headed away for the portrait hole and Harry turned for the dormitory, mulling over whether or not he should tell Neville what was going on.
"Uh, Harry?" Azar called.
"Yes?"
"How do you get out?"
"Just through the hole," he laughed, "Push against the back of the portrait."
"Oh. Okay, thanks. Bye again! I'll see you at breakfast."
"Bye."
Chuckling to himself, Harry walked up the stairs, deciding on the way that he'd just let Neville think what he may.
****
Harry had decided to skip lunch to talk to Sirius and ask for advice. For some reason, all that happened last night didn't seem very frightening now that it was day. Things always seemed to work out that way.
Firmly, he knocked on Sirius' classroom door.
"Come in!" called a voice that sounded a little more than slightly stressed.
Harry went in to find Sirius digging through his desk. Various papers were on the desk, drawers, and floor, undoubtedly where they had been flung.
"Sirius?" he asked tentatively.
Sirius looked up for a second saying, "Oh, hello Harry," before he disappeared back into the desk.
"Can I—"
"Where did I put that bloody notebook?!" Sirius yelled, slamming shut the drawer he'd been rummaging through.
"Uh, having trouble?" Harry asked.
"Oh, no, I'm having the time-of-my-life," his godfather answered tersely, diving into another drawer, "I just lost my notepad that had in it my teaching agenda…for the next three months!"
"I guess this isn't a good time…"
"No, no, my door is always open. Shoot away," he said, not looking up.
"Well…um, last night—"
"You blasted sheet!" Sirius said angrily to a paper he was gripping tightly, "Where were you when I needed you yesterday?!"
"Um, never mind," Harry said, "I'll go see Dumbledore. Bye, Sirius. And good luck in finding the notebook."
Sirius muttered something inaudible as Harry left. He swiftly headed for Dumbledore's office, hoping he wouldn't be late for Transfiguration. It wasn't until he reached the stone gargoyle, however, that he realized he didn't know the password. For a moment, he looked the gargoyle up and down.
"No chance you'd just open for me, right?"
The gargoyle gave him a dark look.
"Thought so," Harry sighed, looking around, "Professor Dumbledore! You in there?!"
"Did the gargoyle eat Dumbledore?"
Harry spun around to find Azar. "Oh, hi; no. I just…was wanting to talk to him and…don't know the password."
"Earwax," she said matter-of-factly, "But you may need to wait in line. Ackerley just told me I was supposed to go to Dumbledore's office. You can come in with me, of course."
Considering it was Azar Harry wanted to talk about, it was a bit of an awkward situation, but he agreed. When they walked through the door, Dumbledore was apparently very surprised to see Harry.
"Mr. Potter. I wasn't expecting you until much later."
"Huh?" Harry asked.
"You weren't told to come and see me?" Dumbledore said, confused.
"No. I just wanted to speak with you."
Dumbledore's eyes sparkled slightly. "Well, so much the better. What I have to say concerns both of you in any case. Sit, sit."
Glancing at each other, Harry and Azar took two of the three chairs right across from Dumbledore. Expectantly, and a little nervously, they waited for their headmaster to speak. He stared back at them for a while, his fingertips together.
"There is no easy way to go about this," he finally said, "Granted, I have made this speech once before, but I feel if I rush it, I will only create confusion. So I'll start from the beginning. September 3rd, 1973, you parents, Harry, had their first Divination class. It went through as usual, Professor Trelawney predicting the death of one terrified student, and the class left. Your mother stayed after a while to speak with Professor Trelawney. Your father soon came back, too, saying he had forgotten his Transfiguration book. It was then, according to them, that Professor Trelawney went into a trance.
"I believe I told you once, Harry, that the Professor had had two true predictions. This was the first. At least, part of it was. Wisely, your parents came to me. As this was the first year of Voldemort's power, it was welcome news."
"Wait a minute, Professor," Azar interrupted, "You seemed to have forgotten an important part: the prediction."
"In time, Miss Zundel, in time," Dumbledore smiled, "Confusion now will make the prediction easier to understand. As I was saying, this prophecy brought us new hope. But little. All it promised was Voldemort's downfall sometime in a span of twenty-five years. That is to say, sometime before September 3rd, 1998."
Harry felt a jolt. That was little less then a year away.
"I'm sorry, Professor, but what does this have to do with us?" Azar asked.
"Again, I ask for your patience, Miss Zundel. First, the prediction."
He pulled a paper from his desk, cleared his throat and read:
"Darkness prepares to swallow the world. A man whose name will be poison to the tongue gains strength, to rid the world of his father's people. Until the Stag and Lily unite to make the Lion's Cub, the Dark Lord's hand shall grip all of England… For eleven years, there shall be terror…until the Lion Cub and Lily bring a certain end. For eleven years more shall peace reign, then the Dark Lord appears…Within the time of five years and a score, the Four young Heirs of equal age will fell the Serpent, his immortal life ended. Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Slytherin… each touched by the mark of Zeus. Five years and a score…and the Dark Lord… shall fall…"
"The part we know for truth is of the "lion cub" and "lily". With little doubt, that was you and your mother, Harry. It's the second part we now worry about."
"Four heirs?" Azar asked, not one to mince words, "How do we know who they are?"
"There are ways, Miss Zundel."
"Wait," Harry said, confused, "there's no Heir of Slytherin. I mean, that's Voldemort, and he's the last. The prophecy was wrong."
"Ah, but there would have been," Dumbledore said quietly, shaking his head, "Tom Marvolo Riddle had a child."
Harry felt a panic rise in his chest. "But in my second year, you told me he was the last—"
"He is, Harry. Voldemort killed his son and grandson, which was the reason your parents went into hiding. We knew why they had been killed: Voldemort had found out, though how much, we didn't know. After his downfall, we thought that might be the end, that things had been changed. We were wrong." Dumbledore's face darkened. "The summer before you entered Hogwarts, Harry, the Hufflepuff Heir was killed under suspicious circumstances. We had every reason to believe it was the work of a Death Eater, and now believe it was most likely Quirrell. That meant that Voldemort still felt threatened, and that we must still have hope. We then had the task of finding the true Ravenclaw Heir. However, it was no help that she seemed to be hiding from us."
His eyes rested upon Azar, eyes twinkling. She stared back at him, her eyes gradually getting larger.
"Me?" she asked, pointing at herself, "I was wondering why I was here! But… how? I'm muggleborn."
"Yes, and no," Dumbledore said with a smile, "You see, the only witch or wizard of Ravenclaw heritage we could find was eighty-six years old, and posed no threat to Voldemort. We didn't take in the fact, however, that she had a brother. A squib brother. Who had lived as a muggle and had a son, who had a daughter…who gave birth to you. That's why your magic came late in life. By all accounts, you should be a muggle. But you have powerful magic running through your veins, and a purpose. You had to be magic; you had to fill your place."
"This is more than just a tad bit odd. Now, how do you know all this about me?"
"I must admit, I took some license prying into your background, but yours is a very special case. I wanted to see if there was any magic in your lineage, to see why you came into magic so late. When I found out to whom you were related to, it all made sense. And you're a Seer, to top it off. You see, Rowena herself was a Seer, and she prized the Inner Eye the way Salazar prized parselmouth. I've little doubt that you are Ravenclaw's Heir, but there's just one test to be sure."
Azar looked slightly taken aback at these words. "What kind of test? And how come Harry doesn't need to take it?"
Dumbledore chuckled slightly. "That's because I can plainly see that Harry is an Heir. Miss Zundel, do you have any scars?"
"Does Saturn have rings?"
"Okay, I see I need to be more specific. Any deep, particularly visible scars?"
The girl thought a moment. "Well, my worse is a gash on my stomach I got from a bicycle crash I had when I was six."
"What does it look like?"
"Well, it stands out horribly and is very thin and jagged, shaped almost like…" She faded off, her eyes going as round as sand dollars while her hand went to her abdomen, presumably to the scar. "Good Lord… It's shaped like a lightning bolt."
Almost on its own, Harry's hand went up to his forehead. "But…what does that have to do with anything?" he asked, "I mean, she got hers from an bike accident; I got mine…well, in a very different way. Just because they're both shaped like a lightning bolt—"
"But that has everything to do with it, Harry," Dumbledore interrupted, looking a bit excited. "Don't you see? Each Heir touched by the mark of Zeus. The lightning bolt."
"What about the others?" Azar asked, serious for once, "If the Slytherin and Hufflepuff Heirs were killed…"
"I think you'll find, Miss Zundel, that despite popular belief, Fate does compromise."
Harry felt as if his mind was soaring, trying to grasp onto reasoning and thought, and having little luck. A million memories whizzed through his head, unrecognizable blurs. And through the chaos in his mind, something stood out: "Think you're so special with that scar, Potter? Take a look at this."
"Draco," Harry said, almost to himself.
"I just knew he was going to do that!" came a voice, soon followed by Draco as he took off his invisibility cloak. "It figures. I had even imagined what their faces would look like when I took that off and everything clicked, but of course it didn't happen."
Despite these lamentations, Draco looked as though he was having a hard time not smiling. His glowing countenance diminished slightly, though, as he stood there, and Harry and Azar stared at him in shock. Azar leaned back in her chair, massaging her temples.
"I'm getting a headache from all this," she groaned. "And if the next thing you tell me is that Ernie Macmillan is the Hufflepuff Heir, I swear I'll keel over."
"Oh, thanks," Draco said, almost pouting as he sat down.
"I didn't mean it that way, Draco. This is just all too much. So who is the Heir? Not Ernie? Hermione then?"
Dumbledore chuckled. "No, even with all the special circumstances under which you three are here, the Heir of Hufflepuff is probably most unique of all. The original Heir was a girl named Lissa. When she was eleven, she, her mother, and her younger brother were driving alone one night along a cliff near Dillmouth. The next morning the car was found at the bottom of a precipice. The mother and girl were dead. The coroner was puzzled because it was clear they died before the accident, but eventually ruled that they died of fright during the fall. The boy, however, survived, with minimal injuries. The most outstanding cut he had on him was one on his leg, shaped as a lightning bolt."
"So he's the Heir," Harry finished.
"Precisely."
"But who is he?" Azar asked.
Dumbledore looked at all of them a moment, as if gauging his answer. "James Bell," he finally said.
Azar stood up sharply. "So that's why it happened!"
This was probably the last reaction Dumbledore had been expecting.
"The other day," Harry quickly explained, "Azar, Draco, James, and I…made a chain, I guess you could say. But the moment we were all connected, a surge went through us, almost like…"
"Electricity. But not," Draco said. "It's hard to describe."
Dumbledore simply nodded. The room was silent, except for the distant murmur of students in the halls.
"Why tell us this?" Azar asked quietly. "What are we supposed to do now?"
"Prepare," Dumbledore said simply. "We feel that the time when the Heirs will be needed is nearing. Draco, show them your arm."
Draco glanced at him, then slowly pulled back his sleeve. There, on his left forearm, was that scar that proved him an Heir. It didn't look good, however. There was a green tinge to it and it appeared sore.
"That's why my arm hurt when anyone touched it. It's been bothering me for a while now," he said, looking down at it. "Dumbledore thinks that since I was the last Heir to get my scar, it may be a gauge, of the time when…well, when the prophecy comes true."
"So what do we do?" Azar repeated. "Research ways to defeat Voldemort?"
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled merrily. "I'm afraid, though Miss Granger would surely be dismayed at the news, that not all answers can be found in a library."
"So how?" Azar asked with a twinge of impatience in her voice.
"That's something we must discuss another time. This Sunday, there is to be a meeting in this office, a meeting of the resistance. I would request that all three of you are there."
Azar was clearly less than satisfied, but nodded. "Yes, of course."
Harry and Draco both nodded.
"In the mean time," Dumbledore said, his voice stern, "I ask you not to speak of this to Mr. Bell. Or anyone, for that matter. Not even Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger."
"Why?" Harry said. He'd been thinking this whole time of how to tell his two friends, but not to tell them at all just didn't feel right.
"This must be kept in the greatest of secrecy, Mr. Potter. If Voldemort is given even the slightest warning, all of your lives will be in danger."
As though struck by a sudden chill, a shiver went through the three Heirs. The room was silent for a moment, yet it seemed very loud at the same time. Then Azar stood up.
"Right then," she said with a bit of forced cheerfulness, "I guess we best be off to class. No reason not to keep up in our grades, eh?"
The boys stood up, slowly, as if they were unsure their legs worked.
"Good-bye," Dumbledore said, standing also, "I know all of this may seem like a terrible shock, but I felt you ought to know…before Sunday."
Draco nodded. "Yes. Better to get it over with now, eh?" He gave a weak laugh.
"And Harry," Dumbledore said as the three headed away, "I'd like to speak to you alone a moment."
Harry glanced at Azar, then nodded. After his two friends had left, he turned to Dumbledore questioningly.
"That wasn't the full prediction, Harry," Dumbledore said with a slight hesitation, "I hold back some for my own reasons, but I want you to know a line, for it concerns you, I believe."
"What is it?"
"And in his struggle, the Lion Cub shall be struck down by the Serpent's final fang."
Harry was silent a second, then with a grim smile he said, "Well, I was wondering why nothing like that had shown up. Seemed a little suspicious."
"I don't tell you this to scare you, Harry," Dumbledore assured him, "Simply to ask that you be—"
"Careful," Harry finished for him, "That's becoming a rather hackneyed phrase for me, Professor. But I promise I will."
"It won't be the easiest promise to keep, Harry. There will be circumstances where your heart, however noble its intentions, will dispel your mind. Mankind is significant because it has both, and without one or the other, one acts less a man and more an animal."
Harry smiled slightly. "I'll remember that."
As they headed down the stairs out of the office, Harry was quiet, in thought.
"I hope this doesn't get in the way of your life, Harry," Dumbledore said, "I don't want you worrying about it. Not yet."
"Oh, I'm not. I was just thinking about Sirius. He's…er, having a tough time right now."
Dumbledore's eyes sparkled. "Yes, I felt he would. He was always a bit of a carefree student. Brilliant enough to make up for it, but very much a class clown. One teacher even quit because of him."
"He's sure getting his comeuppance now," Harry smiled.
"Why do you think I hired him?" Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling merrily.
Harry burst out laughing.
As the gargoyle opened, Dumbledore told Harry good-bye and watched as the boy walked down the hall. The spark leaving his eyes, Dumbledore whispered something under his breath:
"One by one they fall, during times of celebration. Only the Battle will stop the cycle, with one pure of heart in intention."
~*~*~
A/N: Okay, for anyone who figured out it was Draco right before Harry had his memory flashback, 10 points. For those who knew it right when Azar told about her scar, 25 points. And for those who figured it out after hearing the prophecy, 50 points. And for those who just knew Draco was in the room right from the start, 100 points! ^-^
Oh my gosh, I can't write Dumbledore to save my life! Why?! Sheesh, he's my trouble char all right.
You know, that could be much better, less rushed, but it's been, what, 3 weeks since I got one up, so I don't care. (Sure am chipper, aren't I?)
Guess what? Ady's been reading some of the earlier chapters, and Ady has found that she is oh-so-very forgetful. *sheepish grin* Yeah, so now Ady is trying to remember—or reinvent—certain reasonings and stuff. Yeah, oh dear. Ignore me, I can't think very well right now. *sigh*
Thank you to everyone who reviewed!!!
Tarawen: Of course it was a good prophecy! j/k ^_^ Thanks!
Moon Warrior: Bah, I knew it! Don't worry, I'll try not to let it happen again. And yes, Firenze was meant like that. ^_^ Thanks!
Sophie Black: O.O Harry can't die! At least not in the real books. I don't mind (well, too much) when people kill him off in fanfics, but if he dies in the real one… wah, I couldn't take it! Thanks!
Sandrine Black: ^_^ Thanks!
Abbey: *grins* I'm not saying don't believe in Ron/Herm, but I'm "expanding my boundaries", in a way. ^_^ Thanks!
Jeanne: ^_^ Thanks!
Alec Kazaam: *grins* I know I told you before, but that's just the coolest name. ^_^ Heehee, of course I wanted to rock some confidence. What fun is certainty? Yeah, there is a def. lack of Firenze in the books. Can't say I'll go much against tradition, but hey, ya never know. Yeah, I wasn't sure about the title myself. I think I just tried too hard with it, and flopped. *grins* Ah yes, the Fido scenes. I was fairly pleased with those myself, and the response I got makes me realize that I can do that kind of stuff and not seem oh-so-very odd. Thanks!
chrestomanci: Too much drama for me, too. *grin* Thanks!
jona: LOL Okay, just to set your mind at ease, I would NEVER put Ron and Lavender together. (Though Lav would like to think differently. Don't tell her, though. I don't want to crush her little ego. Yet. ^_^) Thank you!
Mrs. Grim: ^_^ Thanks. See, problem with me is I always go for the guys way out of my league. *sigh*
Ninir: *blushes* Thank you.
sweets: lol Hey, how could you forget your password, huh? *waggles finger* For shame. ^_^ Thanks!
Trisana: ^_^ A lot of people think that. *bwa-ha-ha* Thanks!
Nalleen Riddle: ^_^ Thanks!
*Jay*: That's okay. *grins happily* Yes, more Juni, and def. more James, as you can see. ^_^ Thanks!
suger: Thanks! I did e-mail you back, didn't I? Shoot, it's been too long, I can't remember! Er…I'll have to check. Sorry, but I'm so bad about replying and everything. *sigh*
summersun: Thanks! ^_^
Yes, well, thank you all!
And yes, now a BIG thanks to Lady Grizabella! She drew fanart of my fics!!! *hugs her* Thank you! Here are the drawings if you wanna see them:
http://www.angelfire.com/musicals/ladygrizabella/images/draco_ginny_dead.jpg -- Day of Dreams (spoiler!)
http://www.angelfire.com/musicals/ladygrizabella/images/draco_azar_harry.gif --World of Change
http://www.angelfire.com/musicals/ladygrizabella/images/draco_harry_collar.jpg --Seer's Prophecy
Be excellent to each other!
-Ady