The Majestic
Laurence Ashton
Chapter Three:
The Charmer
Harry woke feeling groggy and confused, feeling the tendrils of his dreams slipping away. He thought of Midas first, wondering if he'd had another such "dream" as last night's, but he couldn't remember anything… only the vaguest sense of calm. He didn't ponder this long, however, for he was running a little late this morning.
Hopping out of bed, Harry raced to get a shower and yanked on his uniform. He tied his tie crooked and only managed to tuck one tail of his shirt before rushing out to class. He had Divination first thing, and while with Trelawney that might have seemed like a burden, sitting with Malfoy and Zabini at the start of the day looked to be torture. Groaning in frustration, Harry scraped his half-hearted essay together and hurried to catch up with Ron and Hermione, who he found just leaving the common room for breakfast.
"Looking a little worse for the wear," Ron remarked as Harry skidded to a more reasonable pace and panted to catch his breath.
"More dreams, Harry?" asked Hermione.
Harry shrugged. "Dunno."
They took seats with Neville, Parvati and Lavender, who were also in Harry and Ron's Divinations class with Professor Augura. Parvati and Lavender were brooding unhappily and explaining their misfortune to poor, uninterested Neville. Harry gave him a sympathetic look as Neville tried unsuccessfully to give his oats his full attention.
"She won't give private readings!" Parvati complained.
"That's a shame," snorted Ron. "Great loss, that one."
"I think it at least shows…. Divinatory ethics," Hermione announced. Parvati and Lavender shot unimpressed looks her way and ignored the opinion.
Lavender sniffed and said, "How're we supposed to have any faith that she knows her craft like Professor Trelawney did if she won't demonstrate it?" she snapped.
"Nobody really knows the craft," mumbled Neville. His eyes widened and he ducked his head in embarrassment when Lavender scowled at him. "I just mean… it's very delicate, that's all, looking at the future…. How do you know what you're actually seeing, you know? Unless it comes to pass – and what's the good of knowing the future if you can't change it, anyway…? That's all I mean."
"Who cares? It's an easy N.E.W.T!" said Ron, then changed the subject to the upcoming quidditch try-outs. Harry, Hermione, and Neville were all happy with the topic change, but Parvati and Lavender harrumphed and turned away, continuing their conversation in privacy. "How should we fill out the team, do you think?" Ron asked. "We've still got those two slots open. Dean is thinking of going for Chaser, actually, and the Creevey brothers want to compete for the beater position… but I'm not so certain about either of them. Have you seen them play?"
"I'll see them at try-outs, I guess. Is Dean any good?"
"Pretty good. Ginny's had him over the Burrow non-stop this summer, and they've played a lot. Don't get much chance to practice in London, she said, but I think they were just trying to trick Mum into shutting up about their spending too much time together."
"I don't think your Mum's that dense, Ron," said Hermione, glancing down the table to Ginny and Dean. They were sitting awfully close and laughing.
"I don't think so, either."
After breakfast, Harry and Ron trudged all the way up to the tower and clambered up the ladder into the Divinations classroom. They went to their assigned table and plopped heavily in their bean-bag chairs. Class began shortly after their arrival, and Professor Augura went around the room, collecting their essays and handing out pieces of parchment on which was written another Serpentine Prophecy.
She paused at their table, a strange, dark look coming into her eyes as she stared at Midas's head peeking out of Malfoy's collar.
"Is that…what I think it is?" she asked.
Malfoy nodded cautiously. "Yes," he said.
"Where did you get it?"
"It was a gift."
"A gift," repeated the professor.
Malfoy scowled, raising his chin in challenge. "Yes, a gift. Why?"
"Here's the prophecy," said Professor Augura sharply, slapping a piece of parchment in front of Malfoy. "Care to give us another analysis?"
Malfoy sneered. "I don't think it's fair if I get all the attention in this class, Professor."
Ron snorted, trying to hold in a laugh and failing miserably. Malfoy sneered at him, but Ron only laughed harder. Professor Augura ambled away and started the lesson.
"All right, everyone," she said, cheer now coming back into her voice. "Today we're going to start working on the Hogwarts specific prophecy that I told you about. It's called 'The Charmer' and is quite old at that. This one won't be nearly as easy, I'm afraid, but we'll be working in groups, and together I believe we can pull through. Let's take a moment to read it over once, shall we?" She read the prophecy aloud:
In the iniquitous lair
Caught upon the devil's snare
Damned, is he, and foursquare
Born is the heir
To the night sky is he fated
Sight and soul, storm unabated
Heart devoured and demon sated
Placed upon the scale and weighted
Yet, to judge him is unwise
Not before the last demise
This we can at least surmise,
With the lion pacing in his eyes
Lords, the Fair, not yet forsaken
Nor the path of power unshaken
Emerald eyes, be not mistaken,
Beacons to, and does awaken
Speak shall he the majestic spell
Three chimes to make, the chilly knell
He sees beyond the flesh and shell
To argent kin and marked cell
This is he: a child of old
Immortal, fair, and wise, all told
Land and sky, their song behold
A little touch of gold
"Well," said Professor, rubbing her hands together eagerly. "What do you think the prophet is talking about?"
Midas, having perked up when the prophecy was spoken, slithered out of Malfoy's sleeve and onto the table. He glittered magnificently in the ambient light, the gems coruscating out across the room. Rainbows reflected in Harry's glasses and danced in his eyes.
Harry Potter….
Sparing a glance at Malfoy, who was stock still and trembling in impotent fury, Harry bent forward and looked Midas in the eye. "Hello, again, Midas," he said. Professor Augura sidled over, watching through narrowed eyes, but she didn't say anything, and Harry wasn't going to give Midas the brush-off if he didn't have to. He opened his mouth to say something else, but Zabini suddenly reached out and yanked Midas viciously away.
Unhand me, you careless brat! Midas snarled, baring his fangs in warning.
"ZABINI, YOU'RE HURTING HIM!" Harry yelled, face burning in rage as he wrested Zabini's hand away. Eyes bulging, Zabini reached for his wand, but Malfoy grabbed his wrist, stilling his movement.
"Don't," he said, letting Zabini go. Huffing, Zabini sat back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest, staring sulkily at the wall. Malfoy held his hand out to Midas. "Come," he said quietly. "Be still." Midas wound back to him obediently, slipping up his arm and wrapping around his neck to rest. Malfoy touched his head, and Midas coiled tighter as he drifted to sleep.
"Let's continue," said Professor Augura. She didn't seem bothered that he class had been interrupted. "How about I give you a clue about the prophecy, then? It's about a Majestic."
Harry raised his hand. Smiling brightly, the professor called on him. "What's a Majestic?" he asked.
"To start, I should probably ask if you know who the Kin are." Harry shook his head. He wasn't the only one in the room who didn't know, either. Many people were looking at the Professor in curiosity. Professor Augura looked fairly surprised at that, then laughed. "Well! Let's see… The Kin are the ancient races, the Keepers of the Erinyen. There were three ancient races in all: Mage, Sage, and Elf, and they presided over others of their kindred. Mages, our ancestors, spoke for men; sages spoke for magical kindred – phoenixes, dragons, goblins… all of the fair magical beings. And the Elves spoke for all of the Fey: High Elves and Drow, Common (or House) Elves, Fairy, Pixie and Sprite. It was the position of the ancient races to maintain peace and order, to serve and protect magic itself. They set up a Triumvirate to judge abuse of magic, and, in the end, they even established an avatar for magic, gave magic a voice and flesh, and….
"This caused more trouble than it sponsored peace. Magic chose a High Elf as its avatar, and the other races were envious and believed that they Fey had unfair influence in the Triumvirate. The Council broke, and the avatar fell silent. Yet, these races still had a duty to fulfill. In the end, they decided to create the Erinyen, the weight of the world, mixing their powers into this singular burden to protect magic. Upon their deaths, the burden would fall to their heirs, the Majis. But over the ages, many wars were fought, and the Erinyen changed hands quite often. It came as no surprise to any when it was lost. The Majis were no longer called upon to serve. They were useless without the Erinyen…. Merlin was the first Majestic awakened since it was lost. Some say that he found it once more, but there is no true evidence of that…. Your Headmaster is a Majestic, the Majestic Mage, truth to tell. It is said that he would rear another Majestic at Hogwarts, the Charmer, the snake-speaker."
Gasping, someone shouted, "Harry! It's Harry, isn't it?" A clamor rose in the room as the other students rejoined, crying out reasons why the prophecy really was about him. Cringing, Harry slunk down in his seat, staring at the gleam of the table wood, blushing full on to his ears.
Professor Augura looked at Harry with twinkling eyes and smiled. "What do you think, Harry?"
I think you're just as bad as batty old Trelawney, if not bloody worse, he thought viciously, but shrugged.
"I think its rubbish," muttered Malfoy, sneering hatefully across the table at Harry.
"Oh, shut up, Malfoy, you're just jealous!" snapped Ron.
"Jealous?" Malfoy retorted. "Of what? A Muggle-hugging half-blood peasant? Don't go projecting your feelings onto me, Weasel. Even with your sterling lineage, you were never worthy of trash like him!"
"Mr. Malfoy!" The professor sounded scandalized. "That was unnecessarily harsh. Apologize this instant."
Upon hearing the command, Ron's red-faced rage melted into smarmy smugness, and he leaned back, folding his arms over his chest. "Yeah, Malfoy," he cajoled. "Apologize." Malfoy clenched his jaw.
"Sorry, Weasley, if the truth hurts."
"Don't be a prat, Malfoy," Harry said as Ron opened his mouth to return the insult. Then Professor Augura loudly called for everyone's attention and continued the lesson. Most people were eager to give analyses of the prophecy then, except Malfoy (who pretended not to hear Professor Augura when she asked about it) and his Slytherin cronies. Elation surged through him as the class ended, and he took the stairs two at a time. Even History of Magic looked like a relief. Harry certainly wasn't looking forward to the assignment for Divination, though. It was another prophecy analysis… about him, again.
After classes that day, Harry decided to take a nap before anchoring himself to his textbooks. Seventh year was ridiculously hard, even before N.E.W.T.s started looming like ominous storm-clouds on the horizons of his thoughts. Harry wasn't certain how Hermione was managing. She'd taken more courses that he (as usual), and some were harder at that – Arithmancy, Ancient Runes. Though, if Divinations continued to be a pain in Harry's neck, he'd probably wish to be with her in Arithmancy before the end.
Pulling the curtains on his bed closed, Harry stripped down to his boxers and laid back, arms folded behind his head. He stared up at the ceiling as his eyelids grew heavy and he drifted to sleep.
He woke again to a jabbing pain on his ear. Sweeping his arm up to rub it, his hand smacked against something hard and soft at once; it squawked in indignation. Cracking his eyes opened to look beside him, Harry saw a dazed-looking barn owl.
"Sorry," he muttered as the owl hopped closer and stuck its leg out. A rolled up piece of parchment was tied to its leg. The bird flew off, out the opened window, as soon as it was free of its burden.
Harry turned to his note. It simply said: East tower, half nine. No signature accompanied the request.
A quick look to his watch let him know that it was already nine. He'd have to hurry if he wanted to get there early and hide out under his invisibility cloak. He wanted to know who sent the request before joining them, unless it was a trick of the sort Malfoy had been known to pull.
He dressed swiftly in jeans and a jumper and grabbed a back pack that he could put his cloak in if he decided to meet up with this person.
"Where are you going in such a hurry?" Ron asked when Harry dashed down the stairs and through the common room. He was sitting by the window, trying to teach Hermione a few strategies in Chess and failing miserably.
"East tower. I shouldn't be long. We can work on that stupid History assignment when I get back."
"Sure," Ron said, then glanced at the board. His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Hermione! Have you forgotten how to move the pieces already?"
As Harry closed the door behind him, he heard Hermione's guilty denial.
Harry arrived at the East tower ten minutes before the appointed time. He was cutting it a little close, but the roof was deserted. Pleased with this, he shouldered his invisibility cloak and stepped behind a gargoyle. Four minutes later, the door opened again, and two pair of footsteps sounded. Harry shifted so that he could glance around the statue. Malfoy and Zabini were there.
"Start setting up. I'll make sure we're alone," suggested Zabini. Malfoy nodded, slinging a bag from his shoulder and starting to rifle through. Zabini headed Harry's way.
Holding in his breath so as not to make a sound, Harry made himself as small as possible, slipping out of Zabini's path. The Slytherin passed him by, checking between the gargoyles and down the darkened path. He scuttled back to Malfoy's side silently, slipping up behind him and sliding his arms around Malfoy's waist. Harry's jaw dropped at seeing this – at the queer intimacy of the act, and Malfoy's even stranger response (leaning into the touch, for Merlin's sake!) Were they…?
The unasked question was swiftly answered. Zabini pressed a kiss to Malfoy's jaw, and Malfoy turned, winding his arms around Zabini's neck. They were long and lean together, flushed, creating a dark seam. They didn't kiss again, but they could have, so close they were, noses mere centimeters apart. Harry could imagine their eyes crossing at they stared so wide-eyed at each other. Zabini looked smug, as always, but Malfoy gave him a slight, half-smile, a look so soft, so warm, so far from anything that Harry would have expected of him….
Midas slithered up between them, creeping out of Draco's collar, and coiled around Zabini's neck thrice. Laughing, Malfoy kissed Zabini's nose, then broke through the embrace. He'd already set a plush navy blanket on the floor and piled uncut crystals and two gleaming silver torques in the center.
"We don't have all night, Blaise."
"Are you certain?"
"Yes," Malfoy said, rolling his eyes. "I've got to patrol, remember. Anyway, you have homework."
Zabini flopped on the cover and stretched out. He scrunched his nose as he watched Malfoy arranging the crystals in three concentric circles with the torques in the center. "Do it for me."
"You wish," Malfoy said, but not scornfully. "Besides, how do you think you'll pass your N.E.W.T.s if you don't study? They're coming up, soon, you know."
"Draco, I've got all year to study!"
"Exactly! You'll have time to make color-coded charts, and revise them, and spell logs, then color-code them, then revise them, and—"
"I get the picture, I assure you." Harry cringed, thinking of how much Malfoy actually had in common with Hermione. "Besides, I thought I could share yours."
Malfoy hesitated, looking at Zabini through his fringe, then he smirked. "And what do I get out of that?"
"You get a reward for being such a good boyfriend."
"What sort of reward?"
"I'll show you." Harry had to bite his fist to keep from gagging. Oh, Merlin! The images that conjured…. Harry's inner eye was tearing up fitfully.
"Hurry up. I have homework, too," Malfoy replied. Sighing heavily, Zabini stood and went to stand in the center circle with Malfoy. Malfoy plucked up the torques and handed one to Zabini. "Put that on." Zabini secured the armband around his upper arm as Malfoy did the same with the other.
There is a cry that rings in my ear, a shrill summons to which I adhere; and by the beacon, clear and sincere, I balk from silence and persevere.
Malfoy looked at Midas sharply as the snake lifted its head. "What?" he said. A strange, eager light came into Zabini's eyes and he turned to Midas.
"What's he saying?"
"Er, nothing important," Malfoy replied, taking a step back. "He just wants us to hurry up, is all."
You lie. I do not want this…. Help me. Please.
"What's he saying now?" asked Zabini, stroking Midas's back fondly.
"He…" Bewildered, Malfoy looked between Midas and Zabini, and flushed, as he glanced down at the crystals. When he looked back up again, his eyes were glazed, and he reached out. Midas slipped from Zabini's neck and curled around Malfoy's arm and neck. His gems glinted in the moonlight. "Sorry, Blaise. Midas says that he doesn't want you as a Second."
TBC
Sorry I left you with a cliffy in this chapter. I feel utterly terrible and will try to rectify this sometime soon. Chapter four should have a more reader friendly end. Thanks for reading, please review!