Shines A Light

Chapter Fifteen: Sword of Dreams

Two weeks after the Quidditch game found Harry seated in the Room of Requirement, alone save for Grypis. He was angry – really angry. Voldemort had attacked again, but this time Harry had been helpless to do anything to fight against him. He hadn't dreamed of anything at all recently, not since Sirius had left his dreams, and he had been nowhere nearby when the attack had come.

Voldemort was getting bold – he had attacked on the Auror training schools, and killed fifty trainees along with three instructors before he had been fought back. Harry was holding onto the Daily Prophet, the front page of which had been the first Harry had heard of the attack the night before, which had come while everyone in the facility had been asleep.

When he had read the article, Harry had left the Great Hall, not seeing anything because his mind was swamped with rage and grief. Grypis had followed him, but the griffin had been the only thing that had, everyone else thought it best to leave him to deal with his grief before approaching him.

Grypis had counselled Harry to seek refuge in the Centre, which Harry had done, happy to escape the powerful emotions that were screaming through his mind. When he had calmed down, Harry slipped from the Room of Requirement and had gone to the Gryffindor common room – everyone in the room looked up when he entered, but no one tried to talk to him, as he walked to the stairs leading up the dormitories with his eyes downcast.

He wasn't sure what he was going to do up there, only that he would rather be there than anywhere else. Grypis, on his shoulder, seemed to agree, the dormitory was where they should be, though neither knew why.

When he got upstairs, Harry lay down on his bed and absently searched through his trunk to see if he could find something interesting to take his mind off the recent loss of life. Suddenly, his questing fingers met a box, one that he had almost forgotten about since school had gone back – the Inheritance his mother had left him.

Absently, he pulled it out of his drunk and examined it. He must have looked at it a thousand times since he had received it, but it was still interesting, and he was still sure that held other secrets that he had yet to find, and until he found them, he would never be satisfied to let the box alone.

He ran his hand over the top of it, fingers gently tracing the gold inlays until he reached the lion, tracing its roaring figure, running his hands over the lilies, then placing his hand palm down over the lion.

There was a soft click and the box opened. Inside was the note from his parents, which he kept in there for safekeeping, and he absently rubbed his hand over the ring that had been in the box. He had yet to discover what the charms upon it were, but he intended to find out, when he had the time. The diary that Lily had left was in there still as well. He had read it all, and had been delighted by many of the things that his mother had entrusted to the little book.

But these things did not really concern him at the moment, because he wanted, as he usually did when he opened the box, to find what was hidden within it. He was being eaten alive by curiosity as to what else might have been placed in the box that he could not find, and had spent many long hours since he had received the box trying to find whatever it was.

He ran his fingers over the inside of the box, searching for any hidden compartments, but, as usual, found none. Making sure everything was still tucked into the box, he closed the lid and examined the outside, poking here and there.

Running his fingers down the Celtic knot work, and then over the stag with the lilies that was on the bottom of the box, round over the lilies etched on the side and then up to the lion again. Gently, he pushed at the ruby's that did the lion for eyes and suddenly the box shuddered slightly. Harry nearly dropped it, but caught himself just in time.

The side with the lily in full bloom slid away and Harry could see something that was within the box, yet was not inside the main compartment. Magic had made it that the compartment changed depending on which way you opened it.

Harry reached his hand into the darkness and felt his hand close on something that was at once familiar and alien to him. Wrapping his fingers around the object, he drew it free, already knowing what it would be.

Still, beneath the light of day, in the waking world, Harry could help but admire the sheer beauty of the weapon that he held in his hand. The blade of the sword glowed pale silver in the light, and the weapon was flawlessly balanced, the weight absolutely perfect in his hands. The hilt fitted into his hands as if made for them, and there was a ruby set into the pommel.

It was the sword from his dreams, Harry realised in utter amazement, and, without any conscious thought, he began the dance that he always did in his dreams, the sword feeling so right in his hands that it amazed him.

He hardly noticed his body going through the motions of the pattern dance with the sword, having lived through them in his dreams so often, but his mind was a complete blank, no thoughts disturbed the utter calm that had overtaken him, there was only the sword in his world.

The dance came to its conclusion, but Harry's mind still floated on a wave of calm that was beyond anything he had experienced, even when he was within his Centre. Grypis's voice floated into his vague thoughts suddenly, That's the sword from your dreams, is it not, Gryfas?

"Yes," Harry murmured aloud. "It is real …"

Put it down for a moment, would you? Grypis asked him, and, after a moment, Harry did so. Immediately his thoughts went back to normal, and it was a very odd sensation, his thoughts suddenly rushing from a snails-pace to normal speed.

"Whoa," Harry whispered, surprised by the effect, and sat down because it made him feel slightly dizzy. "That was weird." Then he returned to the immediate problem. "How the hell did the sword I've been dreaming about for a year now get into the real world?"

Is there anything else in the compartment? Grypis asked him, and Harry checked, mentally berating himself for not thinking of that on his own. Inside there was, indeed, another note. This was written in a completely different hand from the letter that his mother had written, and Harry's heart quickened when he realised that it must be from his father.

Dear Son,

You've found the hidden compartment, well done! I'm sure that you have no idea how you managed to open it – don't worry, no one knows exactly how it works. This box has been in my family for generations, you see, and the sword is a relic of the Potter family that has been passed down since the days before the Founders of Hogwarts. A long time, I'm sure you realise.

The sword is always hidden within the box, and sometimes members of my family put things in the top compartment as well, to give a reason for keeping the thing, when some people might have chucked it out (it's been attempted, by those who couldn't find the compartment).

Anyway, the only way you can open the secret compartment is if the sword first chooses you, and then decides that the time is right for you to find it. I found the sword the year after I left school, which was four years ago as I write this note to you – I'm watching you playing on the floor in front of me, by the way.

The sword can only chose someone of Potter blood, and can only be wielded by one with our blood. Good way of finding out if there is anyone who doesn't know that they are related to you. If they can perform the sword-dance, then they are related.

Now, about using the sword … the Sword-Dance is a symbol of one who is chosen, and thereafter someone who has our blood flowing in their veins, but it will not help you much. It is a means of recognition only, and while you will always be able to perform the dance when holding this sword, you will have to learn to use the sword properly on your own. I hope I am around to teach you, but somehow I doubt it …

The sword has some innate powers, one is that you cannot injure yourself on the blade (so if you slip in training and take off your head, it won't do any damage at all – useful, I can tell you, although as far as I'm aware, no one has come near taking their head off before!). Also, if you are holding the sword when there is someone who definitely doesn't like you, and would kill you, you'll be made aware of their intent. That used to be used so that members of the family a) knew who their political allies were and b) could be alerted to assassination attempts.

There are a couple of other things, but I'm not allowed to tell you what they are at the moment. You have to find them out for yourself, as I did when I got the sword. Good luck, Son … and now your screaming for food, so I have to go and feed you …

Your loving father,

James.

Harry laughed quietly at the end of the letter, and then read it aloud to Grypis, who found it amusing in several places as well. Then Harry set the letter within the box again and the compartment closed. Harry assumed that it was only magic that allowed the sword to fit within the tiny box, because the blade would never have fit into the box otherwise.

Suddenly the compartment opened again, all on its own because Harry wasn't touching it any more, and inside Harry found something else – a scabbard for the blade. That was useful, Harry thought, reaching out to tentatively touch the sword again. This time the effect of his thoughts slowly down did not occur, so he hefted the weapon and sheathed it quickly.

"I reckon we should go and talk to Tatsu about this," Harry remarked to Grypis, and the Griffin-turned-cat jumped gracefully to his shoulder.

I agree. And Neko might be willing to give you some lessons on how to use it. If she can use a Katana, surely she can teach you to use a sword?

"Worth asking," Harry remarked with a grin, and set off down stairs, the sword held in a way that made it less easily visible, so that he wouldn't get too many questions about it. Everyone knew that he had a sword of some description, and most knew that it was made of wood, so he figured that no one would comment on the fact that he was carrying a sword-like object. He didn't want to explain about the weapon to anyone at the moment, not until after he had talked with Tatsu and Neko.

He arrived at their rooms not in the least bit out of breath and knocked politely on the door. "Enter," came the serene voice of Neko from within, but Harry thought that he heard a note of laughter in her voice, as if she had received word of something that amused her greatly.

He pushed the door open and found her sitting behind the desk that she and Tatsu shared, smiling at a piece of rice paper in her hands. He could see the marks of Japanese characters through the paper from where they had been carefully inked on. She was smiling wickedly, an air of perverse pleasure in her demeanour.

"Something funny?" he asked.

"Harry!" she greeted him with a smile, and then burst into laughter, presumably something to do with the letter in her hands. She'd thought that he was one of hers or Tatsu's students, and had therefore been trying to maintain a professional appearance.

"Hi Neko," Harry greeted wit ha grin. "What's the letter about?"

"Its from the other Modifiers," she chortled in response, "About Sam – you remember him. Slimy American fellow we wish we hadn't accepted into our ranks?"

"Yeah, I remember," Harry said, "What about him?"

"Well, you know that Modifiers get names that suit them after they have completed their studies? I was given Neko, as a mark of my cat-like grace, and Tatsu was named for his skill with weaponry and the supreme power that he had … well, Sam has finished his studies, and they rewarded him with the name of Buta, which means pig!"

At that, Harry started laughing himself, he couldn't help it. He hadn't known Sam very well at all, but he had less than favourable mentions of the name from both Tatsu and Neko, and he was happy to accept their judgement on such things. "Oh, I have to tell Tatsu!" Neko said, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes and standing up. "Come on, we'll go through … I was expecting a student to come by soon, but they can wait for this … it's too funny to wait!"

Harry smiled and followed Neko into the residential part of the rooms that she had Tatsu shared, where Tatsu was sitting at the table with the newspaper spread in front of him and a cup of green tea resting at his elbow. He looked up at the sound of Neko's laughter as she walked into the room, and smiled a greeting at both her and Harry.

"Here, read this," Neko said, handing Tatsu the letter, which he scanned over quickly before bursting into laughter himself. The humour of the situation had subsided as far as Harry was concerned – not having spent much time in the company of Modifiers, he didn't completely understand the situation. He knew that the name you were given at the end of your training reflected your personality and what the others thought of you, so 'Pig' would be extremely embarrassing, and if the guy was as bad as Tatsu and Neko said he was, perhaps he deserved it … but still.

Finally, both the Modifiers calmed down somewhat and Tatsu looked over to Harry, "What brings you here? Just a social call?"

"No, actually," Harry replied, putting the sword down on the table, "This does." Neko and Tatsu both immediately leaned forward to examine the weapon, and, with a glance at Harry for confirmation that she was allowed to, Neko reached out and took the weapon from its scabbard.

When she had it in her hands she could only gape in amazement at the beauty of the weapon that she held, but when she tried to some basic moves, she couldn't, and looked at Harry in complete confusion. "There are charms on it," he explained, "That only enable one of the Potter bloodline to use the sword."

"It is magnificent," Tatsu remarked, running a hand over the hilt of the weapon. "Absolutely magnificent, and I am not even one for swords on most occasions."

"I wish I could use it myself," Neko remarked, "But magic is magic, I suppose. I would like to help you learn to use the weapon, if I may, however."

"Of course, that's what I was coming to ask," Harry said with a smile, "I need to learn to use it, after all, and I hardly know enough about swords to teach myself."

Neko nodded, "Well, I cannot use it myself, but I can watch use it, and know that if it was not for my teaching, you would not be as good as you will become. We shall have our first lesson tomorrow morning."

Harry nodded. The next day was Sunday, and the Quidditch team would be practicing, so Ron would be gone, and Hermione would probably be doing homework. Harry was keeping up with all of his assignments still, to his relief. Studying and training weren't getting in the way of one another, which was a very good thing as far as he was concerned. He wanted to do well in the upcoming NEWTs, but he also wanted to stay fit and keep his back limber, so if they'd gotten in the way of each other, he didn't know what he would have done.

"I'll see you in the morning then," he said with a smile. "Mind if I leave the sword here? I don't want everyone asking questions about it …"

"That will be fine," Tatsu said. "Have you done your exercises today?"

"Not yet," Harry said, and, before Tatsu could say anything else, took off his shoes and sat down on the floor to begin his exercises, while Neko headed back out into the other room to wait for the student to show up.

Draco Malfoy sat in front of the fire in the Slytherin Common Room in the most comfortable arm chair in the room, with Blaise sitting to his right on an exact replica of Draco's own seat. The rest of the Slytherin house were scattered around the room, leaving the two undisputed leaders of the House to their own devices.

Malfoy and Blaise were Lord Voldemort's chosen among the students, and no one was going to try and sit too close to them when they had snapped at Pansy for trying to talk to them just a short time ago. If they desired to be left alone, that was exactly what they would get.

In reality, Blaise was heartily sick of having to deal with those who thought that joining Voldemort was actually a good idea, and was also sick of them trying to suck up to her as if getting her approval meant that they would get in the good books with the Dark Lord. And, of course, those who she befriended would have a higher ranking in Slytherin because they were friends with her.

She held herself aloof from most of the people in the House, not interested in giving her 'favour' to those too stupid to tell the right side from the wrong in this war. When she wasn't in the public eye within her house, she was friends with a couple of the first and second years that she knew from DA, and helped them out with their homework.

Draco caught her eye and nodded towards the doorway out of the common room, arching an inquisitive eyebrow. Blaise barely kept herself from beaming and running for the doorway, but she nodded slightly and rose to her feet, as he did the same beside her, and walked at a reasonably sedate pace to the doorway, Draco following not far behind.

The moment they were out of the common room, Blaise turned and buried her face in Draco's chest, and he wrapped his arms gently around her, holding her for a moment, before releasing her and gently leading her away from the common room and to their special room, the place where he had first kissed her.

Once they were there, that was exactly what he did, slipping his arms around her waist as she wrapped hers around his neck. They broke off after a few moments, and Blaise settled her head against his chest with a soft sigh.

"You alright?" Draco asked her in concern.

"I'm fine," Blaise replied softly, "Just … heartily sick of Slytherin. I'm sick of pretending that I like the Dark Lord, sick of knowing that everything I say to someone is thought of as 'approving' or 'disapproving' of them, and knowing that if I seem disapproving of someone then they will be shunned by most of the House because everyone else wants me to like them."

Draco's arms tightened around her comfortingly. "It'll be alright," he told her. "Soon enough, Potter will defeat Voldemort, and we'll be away from Slytherin in four months. It's not too long to wait. From then, our time will be our own."

Our time will be our own, Blaise thought. He was thinking of the future and planning on her being there with him when it came. That, more than anything else, comforted her, made her calm down a bit. "Thanks Draco," she murmured against his chest. "I needed to hear that, I think."

"Then I'll tell you as often as I remember to," Draco assured her gently.

What are you doing, Severus? Remus asked him, as Severus stood up from his desk and headed outside. Where are we going?

I want to talk to Alastor, Severus replied, So we're going to the Headquarters of the Order. I have some reports for him about the actions of some of the older students in Slytherin.

Reports? Remus asked, surprisingly not getting what Severus was implying. Even after spending so much time with the Head of Slytherin, subtle concepts didn't seem to play a part in his mind. Then again, recently Remus had been spending a fair bit of time with Tatsu and Neko in their rooms, trapped within the dream catcher and wanting more conversation than what he got with Severus, or in the Lands of the Dead.

Letting him know which one's are looking most like joining the Dark Lord, which might be turned and how, their histories, the status of their family currently, that sort of thing, Severus replied after a moment.

Oh. Is that what you've been thinking about? Remus asked.

Yes, it is Remus, Severus said coolly. It is my job to keep an eye on them, after all.

Of course, Remus agreed. It never failed to astound him, how much Severus could, and did, do for the Order. He wished that he had been half as useful when he had been alive, but that wish was foolish to uphold, considering that he was dead, after all. Sometimes he wondered if he should simply leave the business of living to the living, but every time he thought about it, he convinced himself to stay. At least until the War was over and Voldemort defeated, was his usual time frame.

It wasn't as if he would be alone in death, but he would miss those that he left in life when he did finally let himself fall free of the dream catcher that had caught and held his mind for the past year. Not yet though, it wasn't time to leave this world yet.

Well, it's not as long as some chapters have been, but it's a quick update, so I hope you're happy with that much! I'll update again when I finish the next chapter. Harry will learn something about the ring very soon. And it's almost time for the NEWTs to begin (I've modelled them on our end of schooling exams, which go on for a little over a month). This story is heading towards conclusion now!

Heh, I really haven't given many of you a chance to review, but oh well, here we go anyway:

Thanks to:

JeanieBeanie33 – I'm glad you enjoyed the Quidditch match. I'll try and fit more action into – but the end of the story is coming up, and that should be very action-orientated.

Elvishchic14 – Grypis will fly free when the time comes, and it will be a glorious time. You'll see when I get there

Fcuking Cathy – and you've come back right when I'm getting over my writer's block too! Lucky you! You'll be getting lots more updates soon, if I have anything to say about it!

Cantfindagoodname – well, I'm working on getting over writers block, and hopefully I'll be back In Every Darkness style updating (lucky you guys!). It's because I was working on other stories that enjoyed writing more, as much as anything else, I think. So I've put writing them on hold and started on this again!

Dumbeldave – I'll be writing as often as I can in the not too distant future, and updating as well, so hopefully that will attract more readers. And when I finish this, I can start on something new, and that will be good. Hope you enjoy this chapter!

Happy reading,

WolfMoon