Harry Potter and the Curse of V'Ardian
Chapter 11
Of Fools and Fickle Fate
Standard Disclaimers Apply
oOoOo
When Harry knocked on his Headmaster's door that morning, he interrupted a meeting between Dumbledore and his favourite Potions master. With nothing more than a sneer from Snape as he opened the door, Dumbledore invited Harry to take a seat- they had matters to discuss.
"Are you dying, sir?" asked Harry bluntly.
"Where did you hear that, Harry?" Dumbledore asked gravely, surveying Harry over the top of his glasses.
Harry shrugged in reply, eliciting a snort from Snape.
"Is it true?"
Dumbledore sighed.
"We all die, Harry," he said.
"I know," Harry said angrily. "But that is not what I am asking. Were you hurt at the Department of mysteries, when you were fighting Voldemort?"
"My reflexes are not what they once were," Dumbledore said by way of reply. Harry was getting irritated at the lack of cooperation from his headmaster.
"Fine. That isn't what I came here to ask anyway."
"And what did you come here for, Harry?"
"I want to know what's going on," Harry said.
"You are not old enough to be a member of the Order, Harry," said Dumbledore.
"Does it matter? How am I supposed to kill him if I don't know anything about him?"
"A good question," said Dumbledore. He stood up and walked over to his cupboard, retrieving the Pensieve that Harry had seen many times now.
"You are going to show him now?" asked Snape, and Harry wondered what they were talking about.
"Do you think it unwise?" queried Dumbledore, though he did not falter in his movements.
"No. No, I do not. In fact, I think now would be a very good time to tell him."
"Tell me what?" asked Harry crossly.
Dumbledore remained silent as he sat again at his desk and began prodding the contents of the bowl with his wand.
"Very recently, Harry, I became aware of a prophecy. While the prophecy is not about you, it does concern you, which is why I tell you about it now."
"Who made it, Professor?"
"You shall see in a moment, Harry. Now if you will…"
Harry leaned forward just as the shadowy image of Professor Trelawney rose out of the silver mist and listened eagerly.
"In twelve days hence, on the eve of the new month, he will be born…As the seventh month dies…the world will welcome a new power…"
Harry frowned as she halted, her words interrupted by another, softer sound that issued from her mouth, as though she were breathing out of her mouth. He looked up at Dumbledore to ask if he knew what Professor Trelawney was saying, but he raised a silent hand and Harry had his answer.
He doesn't know that she's speaking Parseltongue, he thought in shock.
"Thrice marked, thrice linked…thrice bound. He will be born…to renew the power of the fallen one…return him to his rightful strength…"
Her voice faded away, but Harry stared at her, sure that there was more.
"He will return…the Dark Lord…to his power…"
She paused once more as she lapsed into Parseltongue again.
"The Dark Lord will be returned to the height of his power. The One…will be strengthened…by blood of the same…"
Harry stared as she uttered her last words.
"Twelve nights hence…he will be born…and he will be of V'Ardian…"
When Harry spoke, his voice was hoarse.
"Who…who is it?" he asked, though he knew who it was.
Dumbledore sighed.
"As to that, Harry, I have no clue. Professor Snape is doing all he can with research, but so far that has led us nowhere. However, that does not matter for now. The point is that this is going to happen and you need to be extremely careful. You may not know, but V'Ardian, the name that was mentioned, is the name of the strongest vampiric clan ever to exist. Vampires are an extremely ancient and proud race who pride pure blood even more so that wizards. They are extremely temperamental and when magical, they can be extremely powerful. The person whom this prophecy refers to is magical and will therefore be a Lord. I urge you to be on your guard. You must continue to carry your Cloak with you wherever you go."
Harry nodded dumbly, but Dumbledore was not finished.
"I do not know if you will be in danger, but it seems likely. Vampires, as powerful as they are, are Dark creatures. While they have the power to heal the sick or prolong life, they will usually choose to use their power to inflict pain and death. Until we find out who this person is, you need to be at your most cautious because it could be anyone."
Harry only nodded in reply, still staring at the silvery mist in the Pensieve. His head felt like it was going to burst from all the thoughts racing around in it, on top of the fact that Dumbledore had successfully evaded his questions.
"So you think this person might try and kill me?" Harry asked.
"It is conceivable, yes. The prophecy states that he will return Voldemort to power, though it does not explain how."
oOoOo
Harry didn't return to the dormitory. He skipped his History of Magic class and met up with Ron and Hermione in DADA, where he avoided their persistent questions about where he had been and as a result was the first to successfully manage a non-verbal spell.
"Wands are a means of focussing your latent powers, as are words. Performing non-verbal spells is the first step along the path to performing wandless magic, though few are powerful enough to advance that far."
Malfoy looked for all the world like he believed he alone would triumph in that area and Harry scowled, remembering his proposition.
When Harry again managed a simple non-verbal charm, Snape sneeringly implied that it was luck and they moved on to shield charms, which were much harder than the simple charm that Harry had managed. Harry paired up with Ron and they attempted to block each other's disarming spells silently, though without much luck. Harry grudgingly admitted that Snape might have been right.
As Snape insulted Ron's efforts, Harry stared off into space, thinking about the revelations of that morning. Suddenly however, he was jerked out of his daydream as Snape yelled a stunning spell, wand raised in Harry's direction.
In a split second, Harry turned to Snape, understanding that Snape had been trying to catch him off-guard. He realised he wouldn't have enough time to raise his wand and thought he would either have to jump out of the way or take the spell, but neither seemed particularly dignified, especially in front of the Slytherins. And then he remembered that he had performed non-verbal spells before, in moments of extreme desperation, and knew he could do it again.
In his mind he screamed out a shield charm, and not a moment too late. It was so powerful that Snape was blasted of his feet and flew backwards into a table, where he slumped, unconscious. Harry felt a stab of satisfaction and triumph, before noting the stares from the Gryffindors and the glares from the Slytherins. Seeing that no one else was moving, Harry brandished his wand.
"Enervate," he muttered, and Snape's eyes fluttered open.
Snape glanced about the classroom at the faces staring down at him, and at the wand that was still pointed at him, before realising that he was on the floor. Needless to say, he was furious.
oOoOo
Harry, Ron and Hermione sat in the common room finishing their homework, but Harry didn't feel like working. He laid down his quill and leaned back into the cushions, wishing he could sleep. He wasn't tired, but his body felt weary, like he had no energy left. He imagined that this was what an insomniac must feel like. He glanced at Hermione's work, which Ron was trying to copy and noticed a familiar name at the top of it. His name. He sat up straighter.
"Hermione?"
"Mm?"
"What's that?" he asked, his voice tight.
Hermione covertly moved her arm over, blocking Harry's view, but he had seen it.
"Hermione, what are you writing?"
She looked nervous, and Ron had dropped his quill to stare at Harry.
"Erm, Harry, you won't be mad, will you? I mean, we don't want to do it."
"What is it?"
"It's our History of Magic essay. You have to do it too…"
She stopped as Harry glared at her.
"Dumbledore told me I have to attend classes but that doesn't mean I have to participate in this rubbish," he said, standing up.
Hermione looked like she was about to cry and for once Ron stood up for her.
"Listen, Harry, you don't have to bite our heads off because we're doing our homework. We don't like it anymore than you do but-"
"You don't even understand what it's like, Ron. Neither of you do."
Ignoring the beseeching look on Hermione's face and an angry Ron, Harry left the common room. He found himself heading for the Room of Requirement, desperate for some peace and quiet. A headache was threatening at the corner of his temples and dizziness invaded his brain, allowing no room for the mixed up thoughts and emotions that had been taunting him all day. He flung open the door and found a comfortable looking bed waiting, just in time for him to pass out on it.
But even in dreams, Harry found no respite from his troubles. He thought it impossible that he could be the one whom the prophecy talked about, but the facts held within it were too close to the truth to put Harry at ease, and the fact that Professor Trelawney spoke in Parseltongue…well, that spoke for itself.
And then there was the fact that he was a vampire, or at least partly one, he wasn't quite sure. He knew he needed blood but he couldn't feed off another person. The idea repulsed him and he wouldn't make someone else go through what he was going through.
But he was getting desperate.
He was getting sick, his schoolwork was suffering, and if Voldemort came now he wouldn't have a chance. And how was he supposed to restore Voldemort to the height of his power? Maybe he had already done it, when he gave him his blood, but if that were the case wouldn't the prophecy have been made before?
As Harry slept, he dreamed again of the green-eyed girl and sought to find a clue as to who she was. With the images came an emotion that was almost too difficult to place and whenever Harry thought that he remembered something it would be snatched away in a whirl of blackness, leaving nothing but blank thoughts in his head. He felt as though he were losing something huge.
This thought led him to Dumbledore. If he died, the wizarding world would be losing something huge. Before his dreams turned to other things, Harry remembered what Dumbledore had said about vampires having healing abilities and vaguely wondered if that meant anything.
oOoOo
Christmas was quickly drawing closer and the castle was filled with a sense of silent expectation and excitement. For some the excitement came because of holidays, but for the sixth years it was for the long-awaited visit of parents. It was for this reason that Harry was the only student not happy about the upcoming holiday season. The only bright spot on the horizon was the Quidditch match against Ravenclaw, which Harry was sure they would win. He had been pushing the team through three training sessions a weak and it was paying off.
DA meetings were also a bright spot in Harry's days and he felt like he achieved something through them. On the days when he did not have Quidditch he organised DA meetings, on top of an extra one on Saturdays for the newer students, who were quickly progressing. Harry was confident that they would soon be able to join the old DA members, for which he was glad.
When Harry woke that morning he automatically cast a glamour over himself before pulling open the curtains. He doubted he had remembered to take it off before he went to sleep but sometimes they faded. He wasn't even sure how he looked anymore because he never bothered to look in the mirror.
His worst days involved lessons with Snape, which excluded only Sundays. The man was almost unbearable and Harry wasn't sure he would have the patience to put up with him any longer. With a sigh, Harry followed Ron and Hermione into the dungeons and began setting up his Potions equipment. As usual, Snape strode into the classroom, wrote the lesson plan on the board and snapped 'begin' at them.
They were making a glamour potion and Harry was grateful that it was a relatively easy one. He could feel Snape's presence behind him as he began cutting up scarab beetles and felt his body go tense. Eventually Snape let out a dissatisfied but disdainful snort, obviously unable to find any fault with Harry's actions. Harry did not doubt that he would be back- he seemed unable to forgive Harry for besting him in their DADA lesson. As Snape breezed through the classroom, he eventually began telling them the properties of the glamour potion, as was his usual behaviour.
"The glamour potion, when drunk, allows the taker to see through a glamour charm. The drinker will be unable to tell who is wearing a glamour charm; they will simply be able to see them as they really are. The active ingredients are the powdered hemp root, which causes hallucinations in muggles. When mixed with the molten Nutt, it produces a kind of truth spell, which shows only hallucinations that are real, so to speak. This in turn is cancelled out by the Grey Back Leaf, allowing the drinker to see a person under glamour as they really are."
Harry slowly but steadily completed his potion, though his eyes were itching with tiredness. When he finished he was pleased to see that it was the same thin red as Hermione's, though it was emitting a slight steam. When everyone was finished, Snape ordered them to fill a flask and bring it to him.
"I will be testing each one today to ensure that they work," he said, and Harry felt his heart beat faster. Before anyone else could go up the front, he made his way through the tables and stopped in front of Snape.
"Uh, sir, I'm not feeling well. I think I need to go and see Madam Pomfrey."
Snape did not look up.
"Bring me your potion, Potter, and then you may go."
"But sir-"
"Bring me your Potion, Potter," Snape said, his voice holding a tone of finality.
Slowly Harry filled a flask and stood in line behind Theodore Nott, waiting for the line to slow. Snape was at the front, turning student's hair pink and drinking their Potions. And then it was Harry's turn. Snape pulled the cap off of the flask with a pop and smirked at the pale red vapour that wafted out. He waved his wand vaguely at Harry and he felt a crawling sensation on his head. A few sniggers told him the job had been done.
He waited anxiously as Snape downed the red substance and looked at him. Harry's eyes flicked away as he saw Snape's face pale ever so slightly and he stared anywhere but at Snape. Slowly Snape handed Harry back his flask, his eyes still travelling over Harry's face.
"You will stay behind," he murmured softly.
"What mark did I get?" Harry asked.
"Acceptable. Your potion was not fully correct. It only worked partially."
Harry returned to his seat and sat down, putting away his equipment. If his potion hadn't worked properly, then how much had Snape seen?
Harry took a deep breath and waited as Snape finished testing the last few potions. When Snape dismissed the class and the last person had left, Snape spoke to him.
"Follow me," he said, and began heading for the door at the front of the room. Harry grabbed his bag and followed him, a feeling of dread in his stomach. Harry followed Snape into his office and heard the door squeak closed behind him. The scene almost reminded him of a muggle horror movie.
Snape spun around and raised his wand, muttering 'finite incantatem'.
Harry felt his glamour torn away and Snape was, for once, not sneering at him.
"Merlin, Potter, what have you done to yourself?"
Great, thought Harry. I must look terrible if Snape's concerned.
"Nothing."
At this point in time, Snape did sneer and with another wave of his wand, he conjured up a mirror. Harry stared at his reflection, slightly shocked himself. His face was gaunt, his cheeks slightly sunken and hollow. His skin was as pale as he had ever seen it and he appeared to have lost weight. He had the sudden thought that this was a horror movie, but he was the monster, not Snape. He looked exactly as Dracula might have, right down to the prominent scar on his forehead. The mirror disappeared and Snape looked at him expectantly.
"I just haven't been sleeping very well, all right!" Harry defended, almost ashamed to be seen like this by Snape.
"Or eating, from the look of things," replied Snape.
"Well I haven't been feeling well."
Snape turned and opened a cupboard, retrieving a potion from the shelf. He shoved it at Harry, with an order to drink. Hesitantly Harry pulled the cap off and downed the thick, glutinous substance in one swallow, retching slightly at the taste. Snape forced a second, smaller one into his hands and Harry tipped it back. To his surprise, it was sweet and tasted quite nice.
"What was that?" he asked, as he began to feel as if he were floating along.
"A truth serum," said Snape, smirking. Harry's eyes widened.
"Oh, no. No, no, no."
Harry spun around and took a step towards the door, but he felt suddenly weak and stumbled, falling to his knees. He fumbled for his wand, but Snape grabbed his wand and put it on the desk, forcing Harry into a chair.
The exertion made Harry breathe heavily, but he couldn't move. His limbs simply refused to respond to the commands his brain was giving them. Harry felt an enormous sense of injustice welling up inside him and he began to get angry. He remembered what Dumbledore had told him about vampires being temperamental and wished they weren't. He needed to stay calm.
Snape conjured a second chair and sat in front of Harry, staring at him intently.
"Why haven't you been sleeping, Potter?"
Harry found his mouth working without him wanting to.
Please, he prayed, don't let me tell him anything.
"Because I haven't been tired," he murmured.
"Then why do you look so sick?"
Oh no.
"Because I'm not getting what I need."
Harry gave an internal sigh of relief.
"And what do you need?" asked Snape softly.
"Release."
The answer Harry gave surprised even himself. He wasn't quite sure what it meant and judging from the look on Snape's face, neither did he.
"Release from what, Potter?"
"From my fate."
"Your fate is to kill the Dark Lord?"
"Yes."
"Why do you need release from that?"
"Not from that."
"Is there something else?"
"A prophecy."
No! He was giving away too much. Please, let it wear off, he begged.
"The prophecy says you must kill the Dark Lord. You said there was something else."
"Yes. Another prophecy."
He saw Snape draw in a deep breath, considering Harry.
"What is this prophecy?"
Harry tried to refrain from answering for as long as possible. He twitched his finger; he was regaining feeling, regaining control.
"It is about…"
Harry gasped as a shiver rolled down his spine.
"It is…"
The truth serum was wearing off.
"Yes?" Snape snapped, aware of the potions declining effects.
Harry shook his head.
"I can't say," he said. Snape swore.
"It seems I have to replenish my stocks. The potion seems to have lost some of its potency. It should have lasted far longer than that."
Thank goodness for that, Harry thought, as the feeling of floating left his mind.
"How dare you!" he yelled, standing up and swaying slightly. "You had no right to do that!"
Snape sneered.
"Do not speak to me that way, Potter. I have the authority to do whatever is necessary to help a student and you clearly need help."
"That wasn't helping me you slimy git! You were just waiting for the chance to get information out of me! Are you going to go and tell your master now?" Harry hissed.
Snape paled.
"Insolence!" he hissed. "Detention, Potter."
"No, I don't think so," replied Harry. "Truth potions are illegal. Maybe it's time you paid a visit to somewhere you don't want to go."
Snape paled visibly, though the sneer remained firmly in place.
"You would never do that, Potter. You're too noble to send the one spy the Order has to jail."
"You're not the only spy," Harry snarled, snatching his wand off of the desk.
"Oh, believe me, Potter, I am. There is no other who is as close to the Dark Lord as I who is willing to risk being a spy."
"Not for Dumbledore," Harry spat, thinking vaguely of Malfoy. Snape seemed to understand that he was speaking the truth and contemplated his next words.
"You know of another?" he asked. But Harry wasn't going to fall for that.
"We are not here to talk about that!" he said, reassuming the glamour. "And I am no longer going to stand here talking to you. I don't care if you are a teacher, I don't care if you're the only spy Dumbledore has. You had no right to do that and I do not trust you!"
"You have a lot to learn, Potter, about how things work in the real world. It doesn't alter anything one bit whether you trust me or not." Snape hissed, his voice deadly quiet. "When this war is over, I will have been on the right side and that is what matters."
oOoOo
A/N: Thanks for reading, and thanks to all my reviewers. Please keep reading- Wujjawoo
Chapter 12: Of Parents and Proof