Chapter 2: Starlit Dreams
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any characters in it. Harry Potter belongs to JKR. Characters that are not in canon but are in here are mine, though.
Looking back, I supposed I probably bewildered Harry. After all, he had obviously been through a traumatic summer, and to top it off, his only living relatives had just been killed. He had been preparing for death, and to wake up suddenly in a strange place with a stranger taking him in and offering him a home must have been overwhelming. To be able to keep up with everything and act as though it was perfectly normal spoke of an incredible coping mechanism and simply an incredible boy.
But I'm straying.
When we got to 4 Privet Drive, Aurors were already examining the place. I wanted to avoid them, so I quickly turned Harry and myself invisible. We gathered his things, turning them all invisible upon contact with us and sending them to my home. I suppose we confused the Aurors quite a bit, but they couldn't find us, no matter how many detection charms they cast. They cast a lot of them, too.
The house, especially Harry's room, was a mess. It looked like someone had tried to burn it down and was only partially successful. Still, it was nauseating, seeing the Dursley's mangled and partly burned bodies, seeing the horror on their faces. Fortunately, there wasn't much to get, and we were soon on our way. I had explained to Harry my method of transportation, and that was how we traveled in between his house to mine.
I had previously added a room to my house for Harry, and that was where we took his things, and that was where he slept that night. A peaceful sleep, I hope.
As for me, my night was educational, but not exactly peaceful. I have a gift, a duty, and it was in dreams that my duty and gift developed and remained strongest.
I dreamed of the attack. I saw masked killers enter the house. I saw an injured, weak Harry drop silently out of his window and run. I saw his relatives be tortured, interrogated, and killed. I saw the Mormordre be cast.
The dream switched scenes to my relief, and I saw a young woman appear in a home of redheads. The mother broke down crying with her daughter at the woman's news, while the men (all four of them) simply stood in shock. As more people appeared, I probed further and was rewarded with sound.
"Molly! Arthur!" A newcomer shouted. His hairstyle defied today's fashion with almost silky blackness reaching to the top of his back. His blue eyes were very distressed.
"Sirius!" The young woman exclaimed. I noted how her eyes were brimming with tears. "You've heard?" The man, Sirius, nodded glumly.
"Only a bit. All I know is that the orb watching cracked and fell apart. The only way that could happen is if someone broke through the protective wards on the house." With that, the redheads just sobbed even more. Sirius continued. "Then I got word from Dumbledore to come for an emergency Order meeting. What happened, Tonks?" Tonks bit her lip. In a shaky voice she replied.
"I don't know. One minute I was at my post, all tense. I didn't know why, but the whole place just felt, well, wrong. Then," and here she looked quite ashamed, "someone Stunned me, I think. When I came to, the house was burning. I put the fire out and went in. His relatives were dead, but I couldn't find him or his owl. For some reason, there was blood everywhere in his room. It was a mess, too." She gulped. "I think it was his."
At that, I awoke and rolled over to contemplate what I'd seen. It was pretty obvious to me that Dumbledore had reactivated his Order of the Phoenix. And it appeared that at least a few people believed and accepted Sirius Black's innocence. Good. I had had visions of him and his friends, the Marauders, throughout their Hogwarts career and after, up until the night young Harry was orphaned. I suppose it was to be a form of apology to me, since, had I been allowed to, I would have attended Hogwarts as their year- and house- mates, with Sirius as a boyfriend, probably. Unfortunately, I will always be forbidden to have a romance with anyone. A pity, really. He would have been a wonderful boyfriend, once he reached sixth year and matured enough.
I believe that it was with that thought that I returned to sleep, this time without dreams.
When I awoke, it was to a loud crash in another room, followed by a slightly softer groan. Harry was awake. I smiled and prepared to face the day.
Later, during breakfast, I broached the subject Harry first mentioned.
"Harry, do you remember what you first asked me?" He gratefully retreated from his breakfast of toast and eggs, which he claimed was too generous a serving and impossible to finish, and thought. Finally he nodded.
"I wanted to know why you're called Starspeaker."
"Yes. Well, to be honest, it's not exactly a nickname, which is probably the impression I gave you, but a title. You see, Harry, I am of a small group of people simply called the Talented. All of us have the same basic powers, and we all are born with a unique ability, which we discover at a turning point in our lives, usually when we're pretty young. I was about ten and a half when I gained my ability to have true dreams. Through them, I can see the past and present, but never the future. If I try hard enough, I can see what would happen if a choice was made differently than it really was. For example, I told you that I was invited to Hogwarts, but refused. Well, about a week later, I tried to learn what would happen if I had accepted. It turned out that I would have been sorted into Gryffindor, become best friends with Lily Evans and the Marauders, dated, and eventually married Sirius Black. In fact, I would have become your godmother, Harry." I smiled gently at the awestruck boy. "This means that you were quite right to accept my hospitality offer. Your parents would have thought that I would make a good guardian for you, and I hope I'll prove them right.
"Now, occasionally, one of the Talented experiences a disaster in his or her life, usually the loss of a close friend or family member. To console them, they are given extra abilities. My mother died a week after I was born. The doctors tried everything to save her, but she was too weak, and eventually died. My father died when I was twenty as the result of a drunk driver hitting him. The results were my abilities to hear the song of the stars and create powerful weapons." At his obvious confusion, I elaborated. "I can make swords, daggers, bows, arrows, guns, glaives, spears, whatever, with the skill of a master. They can be ornamental or for battle. They can be magical or normal. They can be plain or ornate. You describe what you want, and I can make it to fit your description and measurements.
"As for the other ability, well, it's a bit more complicated. The stars, Harry, are powerful allies. They hold the future and the past. They also can tell me the location of anyone I want, if I know their name and birthday. Each star has its own melody, and together they sing the song of the universe, which gives me the information I seek. I can even use them to hear the messages of the dead." After a moment's hesitation, I added, "I used to hear that song when I was a child, and through it I felt my mother's spirit."
Silence reigned for a time. I watched as Harry digested all of this. Finally, Harry gathered himself together again.
"Wow. But, Asitel, are you really allowed to tell me all this? I mean, don't you have some sort of secrecy rule?" I grinned.
"Well, yes, but it doesn't apply to you. You see, Harry, you are also one of the Talented."
"What?" His thin face gaped at me, reminding me to check how much of his breakfast he had finished. It turned out to be about half.
"Yes, Harry. You are one of the Talented, or rather, you will be once we get you initiated. In the meantime, eat. I will not have the Council see you this emaciated." I poked my fork in his direction.
"Emaciated? I'm not emaciated!" I raised an eyebrow. It took me a long time to learn to do that, and I did it whenever I could. He looked down at himself, then back up, sheepishly. "Well, maybe a little." His cheeks colored ever so slightly. "So, anyway, what do you mean, 'we'? It's just you, right?" I grinned, and checked the clock.
"Actually, I have a friend, a Talented one, coming over to check you out. He'll be by in about an hour."
"What are his Talents?"
"I'll let him tell you that. Now eat." He picked up his fork and stabbed half-heartedly at his eggs.
"So, why do you think I'm a Talented?"
"Many years ago, when I first heard of the Boy-Who-Lived, er, that is your title, right?" At his grimace and nod, I continued. "Well, when I heard of you, I was naturally interested. So I listened to the stars' song as it concerns you, and I learned that not only would you be an exceptional wizard, but that you were one of the Talented. Also, since you had just been orphaned and been in your first life-or-death encounter, you had received your extra Talents." Harry chewed slowly, digesting this.
"Do you know what my Talents are?"
"No. Hopefully, though, I will soon. Now, enough of this talk. Finish that, and we'll commence with waiting for Brad."
"That's your friend."
"Yes. Now eat." With a long-suffering sigh, he picked up some eggs.