A.N:I am so, sosorry for the earlier blunder. thank you Yakshita you were the only one to notice actually.
Iposted two new chapters for my two diffrent stories, and accidentalyI mixded them up. So sorry, here is the real chapter 23 for this story.
Chapter 24 To give him power
The girl did not pull back. Harry wasn't sure, but thought she looked eager, he saw a twinkle in her eyes. Instead of her soul escaping, the touch of her mouth burned the Dementor. A noise like none Harry had ever heard before came from the dark figures.
And he watched, souls started coming out from the dementors' mouth. It reminded Harry of when his wand had connected with the wand of Voldemort. One by one, the souls came out of both the dementors Spica and Charon had kissed. To Harry's further surprise all the spirits gracefully plunged through the veil, as if lured by some supernatural force. And with each one Harry felt as if one enormous hook had been driven into his chest, just under his ribs, and was ripping it open, pulling his heart towards the veil.
As each spirit escaped, the Dementor collapsed closer and closer to the ground. Soon there would be left nothing more then a ragged hooded clock on the floor.
And with them the pain and the feeling of being split open vanished. Harry sucked in air, gasping; he felt like he'd just run a marathon.
Harry also noticed the other dementors had left the premises. By now Sirius was no longer ghostlike, but as flesh and bone as anybody else.
The girls suddenly collapsed. Falling on the stone floor lifelessly. The headmaster and the potions teacher were at their side, but nothing they did seemed to make any improvement.
Sirius had, in the meantime, gotten up and was looking rather oddly at the scene playing out in front of him. His grey eyes met Harry's. There was an awkward silence between them, neither knowing how to act in this strange scene.
A few hours later, everyone was bunched in the kitchen of number twelve Grimmauld place. Even Snape was there, slightly in the corner, trying not to be noticed.
Harry wanted to talk to Sirius, but at the moment Sirius was with the headmaster in the drawing room. Ron was sitting right beside him, straddling his stool, listening intently to something the twins were saying, something that made Mrs. Weasly tut at them.
Mad Eye Moody was talking to Shacklebolt in low whispers, while in another corner of the room Mundugus was clearly fast asleep. Tonks was uncharacteristically quiet as she had ended up next to Snape. On the other side of Snape was McGongall who was engrossed in conversation with Emmeline Vance.
On Harry's other side Hermione and Ginny were talking in hushed tunes, sometimes giving Harry a look with the corner of the eye.
Mugs of hot chocolate were set in front of everybody. Gazing intently at his own, Harry listened to the sound of the voices talking all around him. His mind was a haze with all that had happened. He brought his mug to his lips when suddenly pain flashed through his scar making him drop the cup, almost splattering it on everybody else.
'Hot' he explained, as everyone in the room looked at him. The only person not satisfied by his explanation was Snape, who looked intently at Harry while unconsciously massaging his left forearm.
Harry watched intently as Snape rose and walked out of the room, quietly, without any goodbyes. Harry heard Mad Eye Moody uttering some profanities quietly, though not quietly enough not to be overheard.
After a while, Harry stood up to make for his room, or any other quiet place.
'Harry.' A voice called from behind as he climbed the first step. He turned to see Spica heading his way.
'Hi.' He mouthed, his throat suddenly dry. 'I thought you were still sleeping.'
'Barely managed to drag myself out of bed. Would have liked nothing better then to lay there for ever
What about Charon?'
'She's still in the dorm. For the next couple of days she'll only be surfacing scarcely for meals, those she won't miss.
'I believe we need to talk.' She told him. 'I have some explaining to do, now don't I?' she said, allowing a trace of humour in her voice.
Harry shrugged his shoulders, but told her to follow him anyway. He thought about going in his room, but she motioned in the opposite direction.
'Let's go in the library, that way we can have more privacy.' She offered.
Harry looked at her strangely. He didn't even know there was a library in the house.
The Black family library was like no library Harry had ever seen. Twice the size of a bookshop, and only slightly smaller then the Hogwarts library, the Black library resembled an unimaginable hybrid of alchemy laboratory, archival library, and defence against the Dark Arts classroom, though Harry thought perhaps the actual emphasis on defense had been little to none. Lit by two overhead chandeliers covered in cobwebs, the place was dotted with clustered islands of worktables buried beneath books, artefacts and a surprising amount of dark art detectors.
'I had a little chit chat with some of the paintings.' Spica said, looking sheepish as she shuffled into the room. 'There is little I don't know about the place.'
The walls were decked with bookshelves filled with dusty tomes. Harry was sure Hermione was going to explode seeing all of the treasures hidden in this room. Even with all of the books, though, the space still maintained an aura of danger; several suits of chain mail armour lurking ominously in corners and niches. The air in here literally spelled royalty, smell of ancient forgotten books and the earthen aroma of stone architecture.
Harry sat beside Spica on a velvet divan that fitted in nicely with the rest of antiques piled into this place.
'Neither of us was allowed to revealing his true… nature, lets say, while in the muggle-filled area, so let's not even touch that subject.' Spica began in a decisive tone.
Harry eyed her apprehensively. It seemed she was way different from the sweet girl he had met in Surrey. She had many secrets. And though he wasn't in any position to judge others, it still seemed this girl had more things to hide.
'More to hide then the boy who is supposed to kill Lord Voldemort, in order to save the world?' Spica asked in an almost mocking tone.
Harry gasped. It was the first time he had actually heard it put this way. It was what he had been thinking for a while now, but it made him uneasy to hear it said out loud by somebody else, somebody he didn't know all that well, and that he seemed to know less by the minute.
'It's all right Harry.' She said, her smile returning. Spica stretched her hand tentatively to his, gingerly placing it upon his. The gesture seemed to signal a sort of truce between them. Harry also noticed that her wrist was bandaged.
'Did you twist it?'
Spica was silent for a few seconds. 'Not really…' she shook her head. 'It broke like it was made of glass when I fell in that room. But no problem, Severus mended it faster than you can say Crumple-Horned Snorkack.'
'Whow, that bad was the injury!' he eyed Spica. 'Is it alright if I ask you what actually happened today inside of the ministry?' Harry asked tentatively.
'Yeah, though I'm not sure I'm supposed to answer the question. It's not something that happens everyday. As a mater of fact, I don't even think such an event has ever been recorded in the history books.'
'But certainly you weren't the first to do such a thing. By the looks of it, it seemed very risky business, the stunt that you pulled out there.' Harry said.
'No one can play unpunished with the mysteries of life and death.' Spica murmured. 'That is something they teach us from the beginning at Salem.' Spica offered, her voice feeling hollow in the huge space. 'In fact those dementors helped us a lot.'
Harry's green eyes settled on Spica again as she explained further.
'Dementors are sort of like spirits that escaped from that place. They need living souls in order to survive outside, in our world. They trap souls inside of them, and in this way they solidify their bond to our world. There's a very strong force, virtually unbreakable, that keeps all souls on the other side of the veil.' Spica clarified.
'But you managed to drag Sirius about, and you've just told me that dementors escaped that place.' Harry said, pointing out an apparent flaw in her explanation.
Spica hesitated, but only for a moment. 'Look, I don't know how dementors did it, for that you should probably ask Dumbledore. But I do know the souls that escaped the dementors managed to confuse the force in some way, or maybe it thought the exchange was rather acceptable.' Spica's offer of explanation managed to confuse Harry further.
'I think there might be some books in here on what I'm trying to tell you here. This is actually the reason why I wanted to come here. Would you mind helping me?' Spica said, swivelling her head around the room.
Their search proved to be a fruitless quest. The room seemed set on preserving its ancient treasures. Many of the books were probably more dangerous then the ones stored in the forbidden section of Hogwarts library. Harry wasn't even sure what they were searching for, but he was sure Spica was hiding something else and she was not letting him in on it.
While leafing through one of the hardback volumes he felt his eyes draw close. It seemed he could no longer evade the sleep he had denied himself on countless times lately. His eyes closed without him even noticing, and before he could do a thing he was already asleep.
Harry opened his eyes to find himself in a darken void. For as much as he could tell he was probably locked inside a cellar or some other confining space, all by himself. He blinked a couple of times, hoping his eyes would get adjusted to the darkness. When he opened his eyes again he could tell there was a figure silhouetted not far away. It was surrounded by a bluish hue. He stepped a bit closer focusing on what he was seeing. There was something unnatural about it. As he got even closer he noticed it was kneeling.
Harry moved towards it. There was something wrong with this person, they were probably not feeling well. He didn't know what to do. He drew even closer and tentatively leaned forward and placed his hands on her shoulder, giving it a quick rub.
It lifted its head, to reveal a wrinkled face. The woman before Harry was probably just as old as Dumbledore. Harry's shock was even bigger when the woman opened her eyes that were opaque without pupils.
The woman spoke to him in harsh tones.
"Deep dark in His Majesty's kingdom
A portent of tomorrow's world
There shall the liquid give Him power
The red-eyed unborn lord
Fatal embrace of the blood red waters
The cradle of infinite gloom
The spell to master this Earth
Carven on an infant's tomb"Once the seer had spoken her prophecy, she vanished without a trace leaving, Harry frozen to the spot. He looked around to see where she had gone. He even tried to feel with his hands if she was still there, but to no avail. He was alone now, but the echo of her words still reverberated in the empty space around him.
By then Harry was acutely aware he was not truly awake. Though he felt aware of his acts, he doubted he could actually do anything. It felt almost as if being trapped in a memory. Sort of like being in a Pensieve. Soon all faded into nothingness and he lost consciousness.
The prophecy is actually some lyrics from a song. Devil & the Deep Dark Ocean-Nightwish.
