Title: Legacy of the Father (11/?)
Spoilers: First four books; contains some elements introduced in the 5th book, but is set during Harry's 5th year.
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.
Chapter Eleven – Apologize and Dream
Harry found himself in the empty Gryffindor boys' dormitory in record time. Harry lay down on his bed and began to sort out his thoughts. The Welling Mirror was now in Professor Dawlish's hands, but Harry still had the first clue from James. His first instinct was to try to get the mirror back as soon as possible, but he would have to plan extensively to break into the Professor's office. So Harry started to work more on the clue he had received.
Harry examined every line, as best he could. The first four lines spoke of a hidden, secret place within the castle. That was the easy part. Harry was confused from the 'one who was made' part all the way to the end. It was unfortunate, therefore, that that was the part he needed most; it led him to the one who had the next clue.
For the next week, Harry spent the evenings researching in the library, much to Hermione's surprise. But Harry was still upset with her, refusing to sit near her or to speak to her. She had tried to sit next to him in class and in the library, but he would make it clear that she was unwelcome. She persisted, though, finally managing to sit across from him in the library.
"What is the deal with you, Harry? Why are you being so cold to me? What have I ever done to you to deserve this?" Hermione asked.
"You tell me, Hermione. Tell me, what did you tell me to give to Flitwick? What do you think I don't have now?" Harry was really trying to control his rage. Really.
"Harry, I'm sorry. I really am. I didn't think he would take it. I mean, why would he?"
"Maybe because he looked at it. That mirror acts like an involuntary Pensieve, Hermione. What do you think Flitwick thought when we give him a mirror to check and he looks into it and gets sucked into his own memories? He turned it over to Professor Dawlish, the Ministry's co-headmaster. The co-headmaster who now has it locked up in his office, under the excuse that it may be a Dark object. I hope you're happy. I don't have it anymore."
"Harry, I wasn't trying to get it taken from you."
"Weren't you the one who said that Professor Fletcher should never have given it to me?"
Hermione sighed in defeat.
"You have every right to be angry at me, Harry, but being angry won't bring the mirror back. I'm really sorry about it being taken, and I promise, I will help you to get it back."
Harry didn't even look up from his book.
"Look, I've said I'm sorry. What else do you want?"
"I would like to have my mirror. That's all."
"Well, I can help you get it back, if you want. I can also help with whatever you need help with this year."
Harry looked at her, an incredulous look on his face. Had he just heard her right?
"You always say that Ron and I should do our own work."
"You should, but there's no harm in my helping you, is there? Besides, being angry isn't going to help any, right?"
Harry shrugged. He knew he would need Hermione's help this year to get into the N.E.W.T. level classes for next year. Besides, she was right: being angry at her wasn't helping anything.
Harry went to retrieve another book, leaving Hermione at the table by herself. When he came back, he found Hermione reading through the first clue. He tried to grab it away from her, but she turned away just in time.
"What is this?"
"That scrap of paper? Nothing."
"Harry, this is your handwriting. So it must be something."
"It's nothing."
"Well, if it's not important to you..." Hermione turned to leave, taking the scrap with her.
"No, Hermione!"
Hermione turned back. Harry sighed.
"When I looked into the mirror yesterday, my dad showed me that verse. Remus and Sirius told me it would lead me to a family secret my dad found while he was at school here; they said my dad had put some things there for me just before he died."
"Oh. I see. Well, it's okay if I know, isn't it?" Hermione had lost her triumphant smile, replacing it with a concerned look.
"Well, I guess now that you do know...I mean Remus and Sirius knew about it from my dad, so...but we have to keep it quiet, you know?"
Hermione smiled again.
"What about Ron? Should we tell him?"
Harry thought for a minute, then shrugged.
"If he asks us about it, we'll tell him, but not before."
Hermione nodded, then took the book Harry had just retrieved.
"So, Hermione, you were saying something about knowing what this rhyme meant...?"
"Yeah. These first few lines are describing a secret place inside the castle."
"I got that. What else?"
"Well, this next line says, 'The next hint lies with one who was made.' So this can't be a person; it would have to be a magical object of some kind."
"Okay, there are about a thousand magical objects in this library alone."
"But there are three more lines which will point us to the right object. See; look at the second to last line: 'He speaks no lies, only that which is true.' Most people would interpret that as meaning that this object can speak. And the line before it speaks of its wisdom and judgment. This is an intelligent, speaking magical object. Now, how many of those are there at Hogwarts?"
With Hermione's help, Harry began researching every magical object in the castle that they could find. Harry and Hermione's search was extensive: they asked the portraits for information; they searched during the afternoons; and they even pleaded with the Hogwarts ghosts for anything they could think of. But aside from learning more than anyone every dreamed about Hogwarts and the magical objects that were scattered throughout it, the search found nothing.
"We've checked everything, Harry. Nothing matches the description we were given. And the hint clearly states that, whatever it is, it is within the walls of Hogwarts."
"We've asked everyone and checked all the leads they gave us. Come on, Hermione. I'm exhausted."
They collapsed into the chairs in the far corner of the Gryffindor common room and, with Hermione's prodding, they both began to work on their homework. Fred, George, and a few others entered the common room a few hours later. George was handing out small satchels, while Fred was pocketing a small fortune in Sickles and Galleons. Hermione, as prefect, would have tried to stop them from making such a fuss in the common room, but she was too tired and far too busy to bother.
"Hermione, I never got the chance to ask, but who is the other Gryffindor prefect?"
"Professor Dawlish was supposed to announce it, but he has yet to do it, so every House has just one prefect for now."
"Word has reached our ears that Harry here lost something to the new co-headmaster, something he wanted back."
"Heard you talking about it in the library, we did." Fred winked.
"You two in the library?"
Fred and George both put on faces of wounded virtue. Harry and Hermione knew the twins too well to be fooled.
"Have to do a bit of research for our business every once in a while, now don't we?"
"So that's what you were selling a bit ago? Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes is a promising business, I suppose?"
"Right you are. Sold a good bit of our summer's work, in fact. Need a good long weekend to take a trip to Hogsmeade to pick up more supplies and to refill our stockpiles for the Halloween and Christmas rushes."
"You aren't selling anything that could cause a serious disruption, are you?"
"Why? Interesting in buying something like that?"
"I am a prefect, after all. I'm charged with preventing disruptions, not causing them."
"No fun, Hermione." George mocked a frown.
The twins went back to their dormitory. Hermione and Harry finished the necessary homework a little before midnight, right about the time Ron walked into the common room.
"Where have you been, Ron?"
"Detention. Professor Dawlish caught me delivering some of Fred and George's stuff and gave me detention. Just got out."
Ron crashed into the nearest cushioned chair.
"How did he know you were carrying them? I mean, is he searching everyone?"
"One of the Wildfire Whiz-Bangs slipped out of my pocket and went off near Fletcher's room. You didn't hear the racket that thing caused?"
Harry and Hermione both shook their heads. They had been in the library, leagues away from the commotion.
"Well, Professor Dawlish and Professor Fletcher both tried to get rid of them, only making it worse. Got Professor Dawlish in a right twist, but Fletcher didn't seem too upset. Actually, he looked a bit impressed with it all."
"Well, I guess you haven't had time to finish the homework that's due in the next few days, right?"
"No. Put it off. Besides, I've been practicing on the pitch during spare moments."
"You're going to tryout for Keeper?"
"I can play!" Ron cried, springing to his feet.
"I know you can play, Ron. I just didn't know whether or not you were going to tryout. You never said anything about it, you know?"
Ron calmed.
"Well, who in their right mind would mention tryouts with Fred and George as brothers and possible teammates? They would have made a right sport of it."
"What did Dawlish make you do for detention? I mean, even when Snape gave detentions, you were always back to the common room at a decent hour."
"Had to clean up a mess Peeves made in the Potions storeroom. And when Dawlish's head was turned, Peeves messed it up some more. Dawlish made a double chore of it by requiring no magic be used. And I'll tell you, some of those Potions materials don't exactly come off the floor easily without some magical help."
"Did you tell him Peeves had been there again?"
"Tried."
"It's the way he is, Hermione. He doesn't believe anything a student would say. He wouldn't even believe Dumbledore, for that matter. Just that sort, I guess."
That night, Harry fell asleep and was dreaming away the night before Ron finally made it to bed.
He was wandering down a stone hallway, surrounded by all manner of magical creatures and lead by a stag with an otter on its back. Then, as they walked through an archway, the surrounding creatures disappeared and the stag and otter alone were still with him. The ceiling was so rapidly decreasing in elevation here that Harry soon found himself ducking, then crawling. The stag and otter were both crawling with him, the otter now off the stag's back. Through one more archway, a tall and vast chamber with several closed doors appeared. The otter, though, did not come through the archway. It stood at the archway, urging Harry onward, but not moving to go with him.
Harry entered the chamber, only to be confronted by a giant three-headed snake with the heads of Malfoy, Wormtail, and Voldemort. Strangely, though, Wormtail's head was bent low, almost as if he were dead or bowing to Harry. His scar began to burn, and Harry started to retreat from the chamber. The stag, though, lifted the snake with it antlers and threw it against the wall. Harry moved to the far wall away from the snake, only to find himself on the stag's back a few moments later. It roughly shook him off at one of the doors, then moved in the direction of the snake.
But when Harry looked back at it, it was not a stag and a snake that fought but two young men. Both were dressed in medieval clothes, one in green with a snake about his feet, the other in red with a tattered wizard's hat upon his head and a phoenix on his shoulder. Harry only watched them for a few seconds before the man in red waved Harry onward, through the door before him. His dream ended as he walked through the doorway, and his eyes opened to the bright morning sun shining into the dormitory.