The Flame Singing in My Heart

CHAPTER ONE—THE LIE

"I don't know how McGonagall expects us to finish two rolls of parchment by tomorrow's lesson," muttered Ron to Harry as they hurried out of their Transfiguration lesson. She had assigned them a stressingly hard essay on transformations of complex organisms. Harry shrugged back, not really paying attention, as he saw Ginny stalking towards him, her eyes flashing in anger.

"Dumbledore wants you to have this," she said, shoving a rolled bit of parchment which he assumed was another summons to a private lesson into his hands.

"What happened to you Ginny?" asked Harry and Ron at once.

"Crookshanks ate my Pygmy Puff. Hermione's got some answering to do..." she said ominously.

"Oh, well, er, thanks for bringing me the note, see you later," Harry said quickly, trying to avoid being caught in the middle of a nasty affair. He pushed past both the Weasleys, wanting to open his note from Dumbledore.

As he paused in the hallway to unroll the scroll, he wondered why he had assumed Dumbledore would call for a lesson—of course, he had already told Harry that there would be no more until he got the the memory from Slughorn. The note read:

Dear Harry,

Please come to my office at 8:00 tonight. I have something more important to tell you which I feel cannot wait.

Another lesson? What could this mean? Was there something more important than Slughorn's memory that had come up? And hadn't Dumbledore already told him the biggest secret of all, the truth about Harry's destiny?

Harry had to wait another five hours before any of his questions were answered. He walked to the third floor, zoomed across the hallway, and went to the bathroom. After relieving himself, he jogged up the stairs to Dumbledore's office, climbing the ever familiar staircase to meet the large wooden door. He knocked a little impatiently, and heard the Headmaster yell back, "Enter!" There was Dumbledore, watching him gravely over steepled fingers. At a wave from the old man, Harry took a seat.

"Harry," he began, "I have something important to tell you... very important. Tonight I'm going to tell you something I should've told you six years ago--"

"Professor, you told me that last year...," realizing he was being a bit rude, he hastened to explain himself, "I mean, I thought you had told me everything I needed to know about myself last year... is there something you've been hiding from me?" Try as he might, he couldn't suppress the thought of Dumbledore betraying him yet again, and it was all he could do to keep his eyes from watering as he thought about what had happened the last time Dumbledore had said that.

"Indeed I did," Dumbledore said in a funereal tone, his long nose trembling in what Harry could only guess was fear... but fear of what? "Harry, it is time for me to tell you the truth about your parents. Harry, Lily was not your mother, nor did James Potter sire you."

Harry blinked. He shrugged his shoulders, wondering if Dumbledore really had lost his marbles. "Erm... what exactly—what exactly do you mean?"

"I mean that the Potters were not your parents."

Harry blinked again.

"Harry, your parents were sirens."

Harry blinked once more.

"Well, your mother was a siren."

Another blink. "And my father?"

"Your father was a dragon."

Harry doubled over as if in great pain. Dumbledore rushed, quite gracefully for an elderly man such as himself, and stepped over to Harry.

"What's wrong Harry? Is it Voldemort? Has he got you? Answer me! Answer me!"

Harry lifted his face and it was immediately apparent that something was terribly wrong. He trembled, his face was crimson, and his squinty, almost slitted, eyes were leaking tears.

"HAHAHAHA!" Harry laughed maniacally.

Dumbledore was astonished. The boy was actually incredulous!

Harry gathered himself withing a few minutes, still wiping a few tears off his cheeks and clutching his sides. "Nice one, Professor, Sir! So, am I not doing my transfiguration essay to hear a great joke, or is there actually something to tell me?" Harry watched Dumbledore's face, then seeing the serious look he gave him that Dumbledore completely believed what he was saying.

Harry thought it over. How could it be true?

He could think offhand of about a dozen reasons why it couldn't be. First of all, he didn't look like a mermaid, or a dragon. Second, why on earth would Voldemort be afraid of a freak half-breed like that? Third, how is it even possible for a dragon to mate a siren (sirens don't even have legs!)? Fourth, why would everyone tell him that Lily and James were his parents if they weren't? Fifth, why did he resemble Lily and James? Sixth, how could he use magic if he was such an odd cross of species? Seventh, why did he live with the Dursleys? Eighth, why did no one but Dumbledore know about this? Ninth, how did Dumbledore know about it? Tenth, why didn't Dumbledore tell it to him before if it was true? Eleventh, it wasn't the sort of thing you said offhand at an 8:00 meeting with a student. Twelth, where were his "parents" then, and shouldn't his real parents be the ones who "thrice defied the Dark Lord?"

Harry repeated these exact questions to Dumbledore. All the Headmaster said in reply was, "Have you ever wondered why you're so good at swimming, and have a strange affinity for flying?"

Harry thought it over. It was true that he loved both water and flying. But that had no logical argument to it. "Professor, how do you know all this?"

"That, Harry, is a very long story, which goes back to nearly 17 years ago. But this isn't the time for that story. Run along to your common room now, finish that essay—Minerva is really getting tough on you kids!--and meet me in the morning at your first opportunity."

"But Professor--"

"Tomorrow Harry, tomorrow."

END OF CHAPTER ONE

A/N-Did youlike it? Worked really hard on this, and it only gets better!

By the way, ten house points to anyone who knows what HOFBrINCl stands for!