Chapter 9
(Female speaking)-Snake - Demeter
(Younger Male Speaking)-Dragon - Dionysus
(Older Male Speaking)-Phoenix - Ares
They had watched him as he matured and faced countless tasks; the Philosophers stone, the abuse of the Dursleys, the Triwizard Tournament, the Chamber of Secrets and the basilisk, the death of a loved one. Those were only the stepping stones to the real path he would soon be walking. Whenever it seemed as though he would not be able to continue with his task, they were tempted to assist him but were quickly reminded that it wasn't their time to interfere yet. More than once they had watched him as he encountered one hardship after another, walking away from them, each and every one, hurt but alive. That a child was the one prophesied was a great disbelief to them all. The younger Guardians argued that a human child could not be the one, no matter what he had done or how much he had faced and accomplished. He was still a human child, unable to comprehend the very essence of what they were their nature, their very being. To allow a child to take what they had strived for throughout their entire lives would be a disgrace to the very system by which they lived.
The older Guardians, the ones who had seen the Era of Obscurity, sided against the younger Sentinels; they had not seen humankind when Darkness was its mistress, ruling with an iron hand, slaying any and all who dared to oppose her. The Guardians of Old not only witnessed such destruction, but played a role in her creation and annihilation.
A young human female was once given a chance to hold great power, but she was too easily corrupted by that power. She thoughtlessly took over what used to be a compassionate, gentle world and tainted its beauty. She would sit silently on her throne, which was made of black roses and thorns that never touched or scratched her; at her right hand sat Death, silent and deadly, waiting for his chance to strike, and at her left hand was the Devil, ready to collect the souls he was greedy for. It was an endless bloodbath. She was their mistress, and with them she ruled humankind as a child would play with her dolls. Where once there stood a young woman of purity, a power-corrupted madwoman resided. She was no longer what she was before. Her eyes turned black and emotionless, and her laughter struck fear into all, including her most loyal followers.
Such darkness could not be permitted to exist, so in an agreement, the Guardians of Old had taken what powers they held and formed another being, one of pure power, made of innocence and righteousness. The power came forth in the form of a child, a child of heavenly qualities. They taught the Child everything they knew and more; they showed that, with each choice that was made, there would always be a consequence. They taught the Child how to listen to the earth's song and how to dance to it. They showed the Child how to call power without causing pain and suffering to itself. They taught it everything they knew, and then the time came when the Child would fulfill its purpose: it was time to destroy a great evil.
Yet they could not predict what was to happen. They had created a good to destroy an evil, but which evil was to be vanquished? A first evil was set loose into a world of purity, a blood stain in a blanket of white snow that continued to spread, corrupting all it touched. That one corrupt woman spread her disease. No longer was the world they were striving to protect innocent and good. It was now a bleak; dark world were all innocence and goodness were gone. Because of one evil, all were tempted and tainted. The Child did not know which evil to vanquish; everything around it was wicked and beyond any hope of retribution. So with one breath, the Child wiped the world clean. All was pure again but at a great price. Their perfect being had drained itself; it had used all of its powers and energy to make the world new.
But in the Childs death was created a new life, a child with the trait that would be passed down through the generations until a worthy soul emerged. This soul would be given the gift of power, a power that would be greater than the Childs ever was.
It was decided that the Guardians would watch over each new child that held the touch. They had even went so far as to create earthbound Guardians to watch over them and make sure that never again would one with so much power become corrupt. Their task was to guide and teach the holder of the touch, until the worthy one came. And so the Guardians took apprentices and taught them their way and what was to be done. They passed on all their knowledge, so when they died the apprentices became Guardians, and those would take apprentices and continue the tradition that was so highly considered a law amongst the Guardians.
Harry bowed his head as he carried Marge's luggage upstairs to the guest bedroom; instead of the respect Vernon thought he was showing, his head was bowed to hide the smile that graced his mouth. Vernon was ranting and raving about his new look, and Harry had to work hard to keep from bursting in to fits of giggles. Of course, how dare Harry start seeing without help from his glasses, what's Dudley going to do to torture him now? And how dare he grow his hair long, it was a disgrace to the family, and if anyone was to see him, the Dursleys good name would be dragged through the mud. Still hiding his smile, Harry placed the luggage inside the guest bedroom and went down to retrieve the rest before starting on Dudley's midnight snack. Ripper dogged his every step, growling at him; at least he wasn't biting him like he had the last time Marge came to visit. Once finished with the luggage, Harry made his way into the kitchen and started on the BLT's for his relatives. All the while, Harry could hear his Uncle Vernon yelling, saying how he was going to shave his head until he was bald. Harry smiled again to himself as he flipped the bacon.
"Uncle Vernon?" Harry had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling.
"What do you want, Boy!" If Harry didn't know any better, he could have sworn that there was less spit that time.
"The Order just wanted me to tell you that they called to say, "'hi.'" Vernon quickly shut his mouth as his face went red then pale, as did Petunia's and Dudley's. Dudley also grabbed his behind with his hands when Harry said that, and Harry had to hide yet another smirk. Silence filled the kitchen, and the only apparent sound was the sizzling of the cooking. Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley knew who the Order was, but they did not know its purpose. Marge just looked at Harry with a curious, malevolent look. The only people Harry knew of to pull off that look were Dudley, Vernon, and Marge; it must have been hereditary.
"Who is this 'Order' Vernon?" Marge spat out. Although she had five less chins than Vernon, the effect was quite the same, considering there was more spit sputtering from her mouth than Vernon usually had.
"No one, Marge." Vernon was glaring at Harry when he said this, a glint in his eyes that told Harry that if he dare say a word to the contrary, he was going to pay dearly for it, Order or no Order. "Just some business associates of the company, I'm trying to get them to sign on."
"Now you see that, Boy," Harry swore that if it were up to his 'precious family' his name would officially be 'Boy', "your uncle makes a good living doing what he does, and what of your parents, hmmmm? What did they do? Nothing! That's what! They were lazy bums that deserved what they got, it just a bloody shame that you couldn't go along with them. Then you wouldn't be here, creating such a burden on Vernon and Petunia." Marge stared at him with gleeful expectation, expecting Harry to explode as he did the last time she had bad-mouthed his parents. Petunia stopped fretting around the kitchen and looked at the two of them with wide eyes, out of fright or shock, Harry didn't know. Vernon looked as if he was going to be sick. He obviously recalled the last time something strangely familiar to this happened. It hadn't turned out well. Dudley just whimpered and hid behind his father.
Harry ignored his family and didn't say a word; he raised his eyebrow at Marge, placed the plate of BLT's in the middle of the table and went upstairs to bed.
Marge's mouth opened and closed, like a goldfish's. She didn't know what to think of Harry and his indifferent attitude toward her. "Humph!" She turned around in her chair and stuffed a sandwich in her mouth. "No respect for proper authority."
Harry was shaking with suppressed anger. GOD! How he hated that woman! Grabbing his pillow off the bed, Harry pressed his head into it and screamed, letting out all of his pent-up frustration at being the wizarding world's hero, the absolute frustration he felt for being manipulated, and his frustration he felt because of his family. He REALLY hated his family! Why, why couldn't he have a hidden aunt somewhere and be living there? Why couldn't he stay with Ron over the summer? None of this would have had happened if he had. Why did Sirius have to die?
That was the real problem. He missed Sirius badly and he wanted him back. Falling on top of his bed, Harry held the pillow close to his stomach and curled around it. Silent tears ran down his face. Oh, how he missed Sirius! They had had it all planned out. He was going to leave the Dursleys to live with Sirius and learn more about his parents. They were going to play pranks on each other and play Quidditch together. They were going to become a family; he was finally going to have a real, loving family. All these thoughts were swirling around inside him, and he didn't know how long he had been laying there. He didn't really care.
He felt the bed sag as Demeter, Dionysus, and Ares came into the bed with him. Demeter slithered close to his cheek, and he felt her tongue as it flickered at the tears that clung to his cheeks. Harry felt the bed move a bit as the other two curled next to him to give all the support they could. He didn't have the energy to throw them out, though, because, at that moment, he felt as if he needed all the support he could get.
The group around the bowl stood silent as the picture disappeared, each deep in their own thoughts. The two women left the room to stand in front of a silver ring. The ring glowed, and inside the ring a large hole appeared, revealing black stairs leading down into another room. Before entering the ring, the women summoned a brilliantly lit torch. They followed the stairs downward, and the opening from the ring closed, cutting off any light from the topside. The stairway twisted farther down the walls, glistening as the light from the fire reflected off the obsidian stone. The stone stairs led the women to a large white room, and, unlike the stairway, the room radiated a certain power. Banishing the torch, they walked to the middle of the room where a large circular pool was placed.
The women walked into the water and raised their hands above their heads simultaneously and started to chant words long forgotten, words long dead to the human race. The water that at first was transparent and crystal-like slowly filled with a golden light, until the water was shining as bright as any star. The women stood like that for two hours before the men entered behind them, and then the water shifted, and as the men entered the golden pool, the light in the water changed drastically. A blinding white bled into the gold, overpowering the white of the room. The men placed their hands to their sides and started to chant words similar to the women's' but slightly different, so that the powers wouldn't interfere with each other and destroy all they had worked for.
No one said anything; they all knew best what could and could not happen. The future of more than humankind rested on the fact that they succeeded. Failure wasn't an option for them.