(I haven't had that much time to write, what with school and everything kicking into full gear. Sorry that last chapter was so short, but it's basically changed the entire outline of my story. Please review, thanks. Feel free to leave any suggestions, I'm open to them.)
Harry wandered down the halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He had the most horrid nightmare the night before. Voldemort was…dead. If not dead, then certainly undead. Whatever he was, he knew it wasn't good.
The most peculiar thing was that he had actually had the dream. His continued lessons in Occulemency with Dumbledore had been quite successful in avoiding Voldemort entirely. It had something to do with Leto,that was for sure. Leto didn't look himself anyway, that thing with his eyes! Maybe Harry had been dreaming again, or seeing things.
And then there was the sword. That sword he had picked up and killed the Gargoyle with. It meant something, too. It had been ineffective to the Gargoyle at first. Why did it suddenly become as sharp as Dragon Claw? What made him able to destroy the Gargoyle when nobody else could? He looked down at that sword he was holding it in his hand.
Harry was again in the predicament when he had more questions than answers. It was a situation all too familiar. He also knew there was only one place to go to find the answer, Dumbledore's office. He turned around and headed towards the office where he had been so many times recently. As he reached the office itself, he found Leto outside.
"What are you doing here?" asked Harry.
"I could ask you the same question, Harry." Leto said. Harry looked puzzled. "I don't want you to tell anybody about what we saw. Not yet. I'm not sure what it means."
"Leto, if there's one thing I learned last year, it's that keeping secrets from Dumbledore is a bad idea."
"Please, Harry, I'm asking this of you. As a friend. I just need…a bit more time. That's all. Let me figure out what Voldemort's planning before we go telling the world, okay?" Leto looked very stern, much more serious than Harry had ever seen him look.
"I still think this is a mistake, Leto…" Harry said. "But if it's what you think we should do, all right." Leto smiled and patted Harry on the shoulder.
"Thanks, Harry."
"First, explain this to me, Leto. How did you do it?" Harry asked.
Leto's face became very solemn again and he said, "Better not keep Dumbledore waiting. He'll want to see you about that sword, I suppose." Leto then left just as abruptly as he arrived. Harry felt very angry at the fact Leto wouldn't tell him about the dreams, especially when they were effecting him as well. Harry then turned to Dumbledore's office, where a Gargoyle stood in the way. He instinctively gripped the hilt of his blade tighter. "Um…Lemon Drops?" Harry tried. The Gargoyle snorted, and stared at Harry's sword. "Maybe it's…Cockroach Clusters?" The Gargoyle just continued to stare at Harry's sword. It seemed very tense. "Just to let you know, I have no intention of hurting you with this." The Gargoyle seemed to relax a bit, returning its gaze to Harry. "Um… couldn't you just let me in?" Harry asked. The Gargoyle shook it's head.
"But perhaps I can." Dumbledore said, coming up behind Harry. "Skittles." The Gargoyle hopped aside.
"Skittles?" Harry asked.
"What? I find them quite delicious." Dumbledore entered his office.
"I just never pictured you as a Skittles guy." Harry muttered as he followed.
Dumbledore sat down behind his desk and Harry sat down in a chair in front of the desk. Fawkes flew over to a perch near Harry and landed softly. Harry stroked the feathers gently, and the bird hummed a soft song.
"Hullo, Fawkes. It's been a while." Harry said. The bird chirped at him happily.
Dumbledore stared down at Harry through his half moon glasses. "Already in my office, Harry? Why, it's not even Halloween yet." Dumbledore let loose a warm smile. Harry couldn't help but smile himself.
"I'm sorry, sir. Things just seem to happen." Harry said.
"And always to you." Dumbledore said. He held out his hand. "You will, of course, let me examine this sword?" Harry nodded and handed over the blade. It had a silver handle. It's blade was as white as pearl. Engraved into the blade where red runes. Dumbledore ran his aged fingers over the blade. He murmured something as he stopped his hand at the last rune. "Where did you get this?" Dumbledore asked.
"From a monument...on the wall in the Common Room." Harry said, nervously.
"And you say you actually broke Gargoyle stone with this sword?" Dumbledore asked. Harry nodded. "You do know that Gargoyle stone is supposed to be practically indestructible?" Harry again nodded. Dumbledore sighed and sat down in his chair, still holding the blade. Fawkes chirped happily, breaking the awkward silence.
"Harry, I think it's time I finished the story." Dumbledore said.
"Pardon me, sir?" Harry asked. What story? Was there even more Dumbledore hadn't told him? He suddenly felt a surge of anger at being left out of the loop.
"Yes, Harry. Finish the story. I'm afraid this will come as quite a shock to you, even more of a shock than your prophecy." Dumbledore leaned forward. "Have you ever heard of the Legend. The Return of the King?" Dumbledore asked. Harry shook his head. "Merlin lived about 1400 years ago, Harry. He was named, by the Muggle King Arthur, as the King of all Wizardry. Apparently, from what we can tell through ancient Runestones, he had too associates, or viceroys. One was named Peregrin Falco. He was a Seer, the most powerful one in history besides Merlin himself. He knew no limits in time or space. Sadly, he was murdered by the Dark Lord Mordred before Merlin's ascension. He was still a young man at the time, only in his twenties.
"His other companion was a young man as well. His best friend, actually. He however, survived until after Mordred's death. He lived for 600 years, Harry. Long enough to found this school. Do you know who that was?"
Harry suddenly realized the answer. "Godric Gryffindor!"
"Yes, Harry. Godric Gryffindor was known as the Hand of Merlin. He was a fantastic swordsman, and a powerful wizard. Very powerful. He was the keeper of the sacred Runestone." Dumbledore said.
"And it said?" Harry asked.
"It was written by Peregrin Falco before his death. It said:" Dumbledore's voice changed, becoming surprisingly deep.
"In the dawn of the new age, the Eye will again see, the Hand will again sting.
And in the darkest hour, thus shall come the Return of the King."
Dumbledore regained his composure and looked at Harry. "It is a prophecy
not all wizards believe, Harry." Dumbledore again turned his eyes to the sword. "This blade, Harry, belonged to Godric Gryffindor himself. As did this Phoenix." Harry looked at Fawkes, and the bird chirped back. "They are keys, Harry. Keys to finding the next Hand of Merlin."
"So...you're saying that...I'm the next Hand?" Harry said.
"Harry, you are from a very important bloodline. A one noble beyond any others." Dumbledore smiled. "Not that blood decides the person's quality, mind you." Dumbledore became serious again. "But it does lead to an unavoidable chance. Harry, my grandfather was Godric Gryffindor." Harry, strangely did not feel at all shocked. "I can see, you are not surprised. In your heart you already knew this. You see much, Mr. Potter." Harry couldn't help but suppress a grin. "However, I'm sure you didn't suspect the fact that I have a daughter." Harry was surprised at this, though he tried to hide his emotions. Dumbledore caught them. "Her name was Mabb. She was my only child. However, my wife and child eventually died of old age. I was forced to stay, kept alive by elixir given to me by my good friend Nicholas Flammel. I was bound to wait for the return of the King, and to keep the world safe until he could come and claim it."
"That's horrible." Harry said. Dumbledore, his eyes watering, nodded gently. "So...Gryffindor's line ended?" Asked Harry.
"No, Harry. It did not." Dumbledore smiled. "My daughter found a wonderful young man. One I had taught myself in this very school. He was very gifted and very kind. Not proud at all of his pure-blood." Harry felt Dumbledore's eyes staring straight into his soul. "That boy's name, Harry, was Thomas. Thomas Potter." Harry's eyes went wide, and he stood up. Dumbledore continued, ignoring Harry's reaction. "They gave birth to my grandson, James. He met a fantastic girl. He did me proud by marrying her, even though she was Muggle-born. Her name was Lily. They gave birth to my great-grandson." Dumbledore and Harry's eyes met. "You, Harry."
Harry took a step back from Dumbledore's table. Fawkes was staring right at Harry, cooing gently. "You're...my...great-grandfather?" Harry asked. His first feeling was that of immense joy, but it was soon followed by immense anger. "You've been keeping this from me for six years?" Harry hissed through his teeth. "I've had to spend sixteen miserable years with the Dursleys because my own great-grandfather wouldn't take me in?"
Dumbledore sighed. "You must understand, Harry. I wanted nothing more than to take you in myself. However, I could not. There were too many complications. Too many things that could go wrong. I didn't want you being raised in the Wizarding World."
"And why not?" Harry roared. "Because you didn't want a constant reminder of your family? Because you wanted to hide up here in your office waiting for your precious savior?" Harry was seething. His hands were clenched. His face was red. "You have no idea what I have suffered."
"Yes, I do. It's that suffering that has made you the person you are today." Dumbledore said. "Harry, you must understand. I did what I had to do to protect you. From him. Voldemort. I couldn't protect you with the spell your Aunt Petunia could. I do not have your mother's blood in me. I...I did what I thought was best. What I still think is best." Dumbledore reached under his desk and pulled out something wrapped in red fabric. "Open it. It is your birthright."
Harry at first refused to take it. Slowly, curiosity began to take over. With a glare, Harry took the gift from Dumbledore. He unwrapped it. In it was a golden scabbard, with a Lion engraved on the front.
"For your sword, Harry." Dumbledore smiled.
Harry looked at Dumbledore. "Gryffindor's?"
Dumbledore shook his head. "No. Mine." He gave Harry the sword back. Harry sheathed the sword into the scabbard. It was a perfect fit. The sword sang beautifully as it fit in. "A perfect fit. I knew it would be." Dumbledore said. "As long as you hold this scabbard, nothing will ever truly harm you."
"You mean...I'm invincible?" Harry asked.
"I'm afraid no spell can do that, Harry. No, this scabbard will not protect your body. Body's can always be hurt. No, Harry, this will protect your soul. Many things may hurt you, but nothing may harm you."
Harry gulped as he sat down in a chair, staring at the beautifully crafted scabbard. "Thank you." He said to Dumbledore. Dumbledore nodded, his eyes filled with tears.
"You don't know how long I've wanted to give that to you." Dumbledore choked out.
Harry, too, was almost crying. He looked up at Dumbledore. "So...you think that I am the Hand of Merlin. That I'm Gryffindor's Heir?" Harry asked.
Dumbledore again turned grave. "No, Harry. I do not believe you are Gryffindor's heir." His smile faded completely. "I believe that you are Gryffindor himself."
(A whole new twist with this prophecy. Harry and Dumbledore related? What will happen next? I don't know, but it will be cool, I promise. Keep on hunting.
DemonHunter)
Harry wandered down the halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He had the most horrid nightmare the night before. Voldemort was…dead. If not dead, then certainly undead. Whatever he was, he knew it wasn't good.
The most peculiar thing was that he had actually had the dream. His continued lessons in Occulemency with Dumbledore had been quite successful in avoiding Voldemort entirely. It had something to do with Leto,that was for sure. Leto didn't look himself anyway, that thing with his eyes! Maybe Harry had been dreaming again, or seeing things.
And then there was the sword. That sword he had picked up and killed the Gargoyle with. It meant something, too. It had been ineffective to the Gargoyle at first. Why did it suddenly become as sharp as Dragon Claw? What made him able to destroy the Gargoyle when nobody else could? He looked down at that sword he was holding it in his hand.
Harry was again in the predicament when he had more questions than answers. It was a situation all too familiar. He also knew there was only one place to go to find the answer, Dumbledore's office. He turned around and headed towards the office where he had been so many times recently. As he reached the office itself, he found Leto outside.
"What are you doing here?" asked Harry.
"I could ask you the same question, Harry." Leto said. Harry looked puzzled. "I don't want you to tell anybody about what we saw. Not yet. I'm not sure what it means."
"Leto, if there's one thing I learned last year, it's that keeping secrets from Dumbledore is a bad idea."
"Please, Harry, I'm asking this of you. As a friend. I just need…a bit more time. That's all. Let me figure out what Voldemort's planning before we go telling the world, okay?" Leto looked very stern, much more serious than Harry had ever seen him look.
"I still think this is a mistake, Leto…" Harry said. "But if it's what you think we should do, all right." Leto smiled and patted Harry on the shoulder.
"Thanks, Harry."
"First, explain this to me, Leto. How did you do it?" Harry asked.
Leto's face became very solemn again and he said, "Better not keep Dumbledore waiting. He'll want to see you about that sword, I suppose." Leto then left just as abruptly as he arrived. Harry felt very angry at the fact Leto wouldn't tell him about the dreams, especially when they were effecting him as well. Harry then turned to Dumbledore's office, where a Gargoyle stood in the way. He instinctively gripped the hilt of his blade tighter. "Um…Lemon Drops?" Harry tried. The Gargoyle snorted, and stared at Harry's sword. "Maybe it's…Cockroach Clusters?" The Gargoyle just continued to stare at Harry's sword. It seemed very tense. "Just to let you know, I have no intention of hurting you with this." The Gargoyle seemed to relax a bit, returning its gaze to Harry. "Um… couldn't you just let me in?" Harry asked. The Gargoyle shook it's head.
"But perhaps I can." Dumbledore said, coming up behind Harry. "Skittles." The Gargoyle hopped aside.
"Skittles?" Harry asked.
"What? I find them quite delicious." Dumbledore entered his office.
"I just never pictured you as a Skittles guy." Harry muttered as he followed.
Dumbledore sat down behind his desk and Harry sat down in a chair in front of the desk. Fawkes flew over to a perch near Harry and landed softly. Harry stroked the feathers gently, and the bird hummed a soft song.
"Hullo, Fawkes. It's been a while." Harry said. The bird chirped at him happily.
Dumbledore stared down at Harry through his half moon glasses. "Already in my office, Harry? Why, it's not even Halloween yet." Dumbledore let loose a warm smile. Harry couldn't help but smile himself.
"I'm sorry, sir. Things just seem to happen." Harry said.
"And always to you." Dumbledore said. He held out his hand. "You will, of course, let me examine this sword?" Harry nodded and handed over the blade. It had a silver handle. It's blade was as white as pearl. Engraved into the blade where red runes. Dumbledore ran his aged fingers over the blade. He murmured something as he stopped his hand at the last rune. "Where did you get this?" Dumbledore asked.
"From a monument...on the wall in the Common Room." Harry said, nervously.
"And you say you actually broke Gargoyle stone with this sword?" Dumbledore asked. Harry nodded. "You do know that Gargoyle stone is supposed to be practically indestructible?" Harry again nodded. Dumbledore sighed and sat down in his chair, still holding the blade. Fawkes chirped happily, breaking the awkward silence.
"Harry, I think it's time I finished the story." Dumbledore said.
"Pardon me, sir?" Harry asked. What story? Was there even more Dumbledore hadn't told him? He suddenly felt a surge of anger at being left out of the loop.
"Yes, Harry. Finish the story. I'm afraid this will come as quite a shock to you, even more of a shock than your prophecy." Dumbledore leaned forward. "Have you ever heard of the Legend. The Return of the King?" Dumbledore asked. Harry shook his head. "Merlin lived about 1400 years ago, Harry. He was named, by the Muggle King Arthur, as the King of all Wizardry. Apparently, from what we can tell through ancient Runestones, he had too associates, or viceroys. One was named Peregrin Falco. He was a Seer, the most powerful one in history besides Merlin himself. He knew no limits in time or space. Sadly, he was murdered by the Dark Lord Mordred before Merlin's ascension. He was still a young man at the time, only in his twenties.
"His other companion was a young man as well. His best friend, actually. He however, survived until after Mordred's death. He lived for 600 years, Harry. Long enough to found this school. Do you know who that was?"
Harry suddenly realized the answer. "Godric Gryffindor!"
"Yes, Harry. Godric Gryffindor was known as the Hand of Merlin. He was a fantastic swordsman, and a powerful wizard. Very powerful. He was the keeper of the sacred Runestone." Dumbledore said.
"And it said?" Harry asked.
"It was written by Peregrin Falco before his death. It said:" Dumbledore's voice changed, becoming surprisingly deep.
"In the dawn of the new age, the Eye will again see, the Hand will again sting.
And in the darkest hour, thus shall come the Return of the King."
Dumbledore regained his composure and looked at Harry. "It is a prophecy
not all wizards believe, Harry." Dumbledore again turned his eyes to the sword. "This blade, Harry, belonged to Godric Gryffindor himself. As did this Phoenix." Harry looked at Fawkes, and the bird chirped back. "They are keys, Harry. Keys to finding the next Hand of Merlin."
"So...you're saying that...I'm the next Hand?" Harry said.
"Harry, you are from a very important bloodline. A one noble beyond any others." Dumbledore smiled. "Not that blood decides the person's quality, mind you." Dumbledore became serious again. "But it does lead to an unavoidable chance. Harry, my grandfather was Godric Gryffindor." Harry, strangely did not feel at all shocked. "I can see, you are not surprised. In your heart you already knew this. You see much, Mr. Potter." Harry couldn't help but suppress a grin. "However, I'm sure you didn't suspect the fact that I have a daughter." Harry was surprised at this, though he tried to hide his emotions. Dumbledore caught them. "Her name was Mabb. She was my only child. However, my wife and child eventually died of old age. I was forced to stay, kept alive by elixir given to me by my good friend Nicholas Flammel. I was bound to wait for the return of the King, and to keep the world safe until he could come and claim it."
"That's horrible." Harry said. Dumbledore, his eyes watering, nodded gently. "So...Gryffindor's line ended?" Asked Harry.
"No, Harry. It did not." Dumbledore smiled. "My daughter found a wonderful young man. One I had taught myself in this very school. He was very gifted and very kind. Not proud at all of his pure-blood." Harry felt Dumbledore's eyes staring straight into his soul. "That boy's name, Harry, was Thomas. Thomas Potter." Harry's eyes went wide, and he stood up. Dumbledore continued, ignoring Harry's reaction. "They gave birth to my grandson, James. He met a fantastic girl. He did me proud by marrying her, even though she was Muggle-born. Her name was Lily. They gave birth to my great-grandson." Dumbledore and Harry's eyes met. "You, Harry."
Harry took a step back from Dumbledore's table. Fawkes was staring right at Harry, cooing gently. "You're...my...great-grandfather?" Harry asked. His first feeling was that of immense joy, but it was soon followed by immense anger. "You've been keeping this from me for six years?" Harry hissed through his teeth. "I've had to spend sixteen miserable years with the Dursleys because my own great-grandfather wouldn't take me in?"
Dumbledore sighed. "You must understand, Harry. I wanted nothing more than to take you in myself. However, I could not. There were too many complications. Too many things that could go wrong. I didn't want you being raised in the Wizarding World."
"And why not?" Harry roared. "Because you didn't want a constant reminder of your family? Because you wanted to hide up here in your office waiting for your precious savior?" Harry was seething. His hands were clenched. His face was red. "You have no idea what I have suffered."
"Yes, I do. It's that suffering that has made you the person you are today." Dumbledore said. "Harry, you must understand. I did what I had to do to protect you. From him. Voldemort. I couldn't protect you with the spell your Aunt Petunia could. I do not have your mother's blood in me. I...I did what I thought was best. What I still think is best." Dumbledore reached under his desk and pulled out something wrapped in red fabric. "Open it. It is your birthright."
Harry at first refused to take it. Slowly, curiosity began to take over. With a glare, Harry took the gift from Dumbledore. He unwrapped it. In it was a golden scabbard, with a Lion engraved on the front.
"For your sword, Harry." Dumbledore smiled.
Harry looked at Dumbledore. "Gryffindor's?"
Dumbledore shook his head. "No. Mine." He gave Harry the sword back. Harry sheathed the sword into the scabbard. It was a perfect fit. The sword sang beautifully as it fit in. "A perfect fit. I knew it would be." Dumbledore said. "As long as you hold this scabbard, nothing will ever truly harm you."
"You mean...I'm invincible?" Harry asked.
"I'm afraid no spell can do that, Harry. No, this scabbard will not protect your body. Body's can always be hurt. No, Harry, this will protect your soul. Many things may hurt you, but nothing may harm you."
Harry gulped as he sat down in a chair, staring at the beautifully crafted scabbard. "Thank you." He said to Dumbledore. Dumbledore nodded, his eyes filled with tears.
"You don't know how long I've wanted to give that to you." Dumbledore choked out.
Harry, too, was almost crying. He looked up at Dumbledore. "So...you think that I am the Hand of Merlin. That I'm Gryffindor's Heir?" Harry asked.
Dumbledore again turned grave. "No, Harry. I do not believe you are Gryffindor's heir." His smile faded completely. "I believe that you are Gryffindor himself."
(A whole new twist with this prophecy. Harry and Dumbledore related? What will happen next? I don't know, but it will be cool, I promise. Keep on hunting.
DemonHunter)