Disclaimer: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work. I own nothing except Salazar's wife, son, and various other original characters. This story is an AU of sixth year, but it will contain a few spoilers from Half-Blood Prince and Deathly Hallows. However, it will still seriously diverge from canon. Oh, the title is a reference to a book, which I most certainly do not own.
"blah": dialogue
'blah': thoughts
"blah" : Parseltongue
"blah": Legilimency/Telepathy
Italics: excerpt from a book /newspaper or any other written form
Bold: a word or phrase that is emphasized
Italics, Underlined, and Bold: location/date of a scene in the story
It's not paranoia if they really are out to get you.
- Unknown
Chapter Ten: Through the Looking Glass, Part Two
A Few Chapters Ago…
'But that fool of a werewolf is going to interfere,' Gryffindor thought hatefully, returning to his earlier train of thought. 'And I can't have that, can I?' he mused, twirling his wand with his fingers. 'No, I can't,' he decided.
Godric inhaled slowly, thinking over the problem. 'That interfering busy body should have been put down years ago,' he put in rhetorically, an evil smirk alit what were once kinder features, 'just like that foolish friend of his. Humph, sly Slytherins indeed.' He all but spat the thought.
Completely turning from the mirror, he began to pace. 'I have to do something. I have to stop that creature before he ruins everything.'
Godric paused mid-step, coming to a decision. He moved to the wardrobe, opening the oaken doors. His hands traveled to a hidden compartment, removing a silvery transparent object, an Invisibility cloak. Gryffindor stared at the glittering fabric for a moment before nodding his head, thereby cementing his resolve. He quickly stuffed the cloak into an inner pocket of his rusty, red robes and headed for the door of his chambers.
A treacherous smile spread across his face. "I am coming for you werewolf… creature," he whispered, a dark chuckle escaped his lips, "monster." Pyrite eyes glowed in an unholy light.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, The Grounds: The Same Day
Faolan watched as the boy all but ran to the castle, searching for Quinn, Salazar, or one of the other adults. He had discovered Elgin in the Hogwarts gardens as he was passing by and had sent the student on ahead to notify the professors of his visit. Hopefully, the young wizard would quickly spread the message and bring back adult assistance.
Time was of the essence, and Faolan had to warn the professors of what he had overheard in the Hog's Head. Hopefully, Elgin would return with Quinn or Salazar, for out of the seven main professors of the school, Faolan knew those two the best. Yet, most preferably, it would be Sal that he could speak with as he knew the young man by way of his late brother, Solaris.
Soli and he had basically grown up together and were constant companions during childhood. A situation that could most likely be contributed to the fact that both of their mother's were friends and would often visit one another as they lived just a few miles away, bringing their sons with them. The two boys had remained close friends even after Faolan had been bitten by a werewolf in his ninth year, thereby making him one as well.
In truth, Faolan had also been and was still very much a friend of Salazar, though their fifteen year difference in age made Sal much like a younger sibling. Their friendship, due in part to Solaris, had remained strong even after his death over a decade previous. In fact, it was as strong as ever these days, though they had not been able to visit as much in recent times due to the increase in anti-magical activities among the Muggles and partially due to the hectic schedule of Salazar's life, which was quite full because of the school and his infant son. The two had still sent constant messages, but Faolan had felt this information too sensitive to write of in letters, which could be easily intercepted or lost. So he had decided to come in person, leading to his current situation where he was rapidly approaching the castle.
The werewolf glanced at the Entrance Hall doors, which he was quickly drawing near, his golden eyes taking in the engraved script on them. It was a new addition since his last visit on the eve of Tristan's birth. He was surprised to see the enormous doors open as if by magic, and a figure in red robes walk through.
'Hmm,' he thought with growing happiness. 'Elgin was quite quick in finding someone.' He squinted at the person, immediately deciding that it was mostly definitely neither Quinn or Salazar. His mind rapidly ran through the list of adult males he currently knew who were residing in the castle.
'Well, it's not Sal, Quinn, or Edmund. That's for sure. It's not Riordan, the History professor, since he's not blond. It's probably not theMagical Creatures teacher, Banan, I believe. He's much too short.' Faolan gazed at the cloaked man, who was now approaching him.
He faltered a step, almost sending himself crashing to the ground. 'Great Maker… is that Godric! I haven't seen him in years. He wasn't there when Salazar's son was born.' The werewolf cast about his mind, trying to remember the last time he had seen the fourth Founder. 'I haven't seen him since Solaris died.' His thoughts paused at the remembrance of his dead friend.
Faolan was abruptly brought out of his melancholy reverie as Godric Gryffindor came up and stopped directly beside him. "Greetings and welcome to Hogwarts School. I expect that there is a reason for your untimely visit." Pyrite eyes studied the werewolf as though searching for deception.
"Yes," the other man answered, trying to alleviate any concerns Godric might have, which no doubt stemmed from the fact that he was a werewolf. Gryffindor had always been uneasy around him due to that unfortunate circumstance. "I need to discuss a matter of great importance with you and the other professors." The wolf inside Faolan unexpectedly stirred.
"Really." Gryffindor's gaze still studied him intently. "Such as?" he inquired.
Faolan looked distinctly uncomfortable discussing such a sensitive topic in the open, and the wolf inside of him readily agreed. In truth, it was actually urging him to go inside. However, he knew that Godric would not allow him entrance into the castle unless he elaborated.
"A possible plot involving the school has recently come to my attention," Faolan answered against his wolf's wishes. "I have investigated some, but I do not know many details. I fear that you or one of the other professors may be in danger." His wolf was becoming rapidly uneasy due to the blond's presence, but Faolan put it down to mutual dislike on both Gryffindor's and the wolf's part. It urged Faolan to leave, to avoid Godric and come back at another time. Yet, he ignored the wolf's warning.
Godric's eyes widened in surprise. "You speak truly?" At the werewolf's nod, he continued, "Then, we must surely tell the others." There was an odd gleam in his metallic eyes as he signaled that they should proceed to the Entrance Hall. He gestured that Faolan should go before him.
The older man smiled with relief, but the wolf's unease nearly quadrupled. It begged him to flee, to leave and return at a later time. Nonetheless, he continued to ignore the wolf, quashing it down in his mind.
He simply nodded. "Very well. To the castle then."
Faolan next made possibly the worst mistake in his entire life. He turned his back to Godric Gryffindor.
However, the werewolf didn't have time to rectify his error, if he even realized that he had made one. All the registered in his final seconds were the sound of a wand flicking and two whispered words as a bright, green curse hit him squarely between his shoulder blades. Faolan fell unceremoniously to the ground, the black of death rushing in. And he knew no more.
Hogwarts, Headmaster's Office: July 30th, 1996
In the top of the central tower of Hogwarts School, an elderly but not feeble man sat behind a desk with his head in his hands. 'What am I doing?' he thought morosely. 'I know that these things must be done, that they need to be done. But is the cost truly worth it?'
He inhaled sharply, mumbling to himself, "Am I truly willing to risk an innocent boy?" He shook his head forcefully. "No. No, I am not. But what else can I possibly do? I can't let Tom win. He would destroy us all." The old man sighed then, quite defeated. "I just… I don't know what to do."
This sudden thought startled him. How could he, one of the greatest wizards of all time, one of the supposed wisest and most knowledgeable people in the world, not know what to do? Yet, after several heartbreaking, heart wrenching seconds Albus Dumbledore realized that it was nothing but the truth. He had no idea what to do, no idea how to proceed.
Should he risk the boy, Harry… his Harry? Should he not? Should he proverbially toss that bedamned prophecy out the window and try to defeat Riddle himself? What should he do?
Yet, try as he might. Rack his brain as he might. No answers were forthcoming.
He had tried so hard to do the right thing, but it seemed as though he could never quite succeed. In the beginning, he had viewed Harry as both a person and a means to an end. Albus had had to do what was best for the wizarding world, which was not always or ever the best for Harry.
The Dursleys were a prime example. He had placed Harry there for protection. Yes, that was true, but Harry was also there to ensure that the blood protection would remain active and therefore useable against Voldemort. Hagrid was another example. Albus had specifically sent the half-giant to pick up Harry, knowing that his anti-Slytherin sentiment would be spread to the boy. Further, he had ensured that Harry made contact with other anti-Slytherin people, namely the Weasleys, on the train.
He, Albus Dumbledore, had known that a non-Slytherin and preferably Gryffindor Harry Potter was exactly what the wizarding world wanted. So he had ensured that they got it, even at the expense of the boy's happiness. He had known that Harry would have been in Slytherin without his interference. Nevertheless, he couldn't take the chance that Harry would become another Riddle, regardless of how much he belonged in the house of green and silver.
However, something had changed in Dumbledore when he first caught sight of Harry again. Something he had longed suppressed had finally come out full force. The emotion he had forced down while he watched the boy struggle against his relatives. While he had watched and done nothing, knowing that Harry had to stay with them, knowing that his hands were tied. Knowing that it was best for the wizarding world and not for Harry himself if the blood sacrifice remained intact, if the boy-hero grew up away from his fame. He had watched it all, the toil and the hardships. He had watched and wept as he realized how the boy suffered, but he had to do what was best for the majority.
But that insuppressible feeling had overwhelmed him as Harry's first school year passed. And by the end, when the boy had asked him about Voldemort's desire to destroy him, Albus had finally realized that he had already lost the proverbial battle. And hell, he had lost even the war.
He loved Harry Potter.
He loved a boy that he needed to think of objectively. He loved a boy as one would love his own son. A boy who he knew was destined to face one of the greatest evils in existence.
In the years that followed, Albus had not even bothered to battle the feeling, knowing in his heart that he had already lost. But at the same time, he still had to prepare Harry as gently as possible for his destiny.
In the boy's second year, it had never been Albus' intention for Harry to fight the Basilisk. He had not wanted a twelve-year-old to face such a thing, but somehow, it had still happened. He had only wanted Harry to solve the mystery of the monster, a monster that Albus' had actually deduced was a Basilisk long before. Regardless, the boy and his friends' tenacity had surprised the headmaster. The trio had surpassed his wildest expectations by discovering that Voldemort was not actually possessing a student as Albus had presumed, though he didn't know which student it was, but it was a memory of Riddle that was the actual culprit.
In Harry's third, he had sent the boy back into the past, knowing that Harry would refuse to simply wait and allow someone else to help Sirius without him. True, Albus could have gone with them, but then, he would not have been able to run interference with Fudge and the Aurors, allowing Harry and Hermione to succeed in their quest.
In the boy's fourth year, he had actually tried to free the teenager from the tournament, though Harry was not aware of this and would probably never be. But somehow, even though Harry himself did not enter, the magical contract was still binding. Albus had yet to even figure that one out, and he had genuinely not known about the fake Moody. He had suspected that something was wrong. Perhaps Imperius or possibly Alastor was simply succumbing to the life of constant paranoia and was now senile.
The headmaster tilted his head up in an effort to dissolve his thoughts and looked warily around his office. His gaze roamed around the room. Harry had really done a number on his things, but in all honesty, he really did have far too much stuff. The professor quickly noted that Fawkes was sleeping soundly on his perch, his head under one wing. His blue eyes continued their journey to the Sorting Hat, which was humming merrily to itself on a shelf.
'Come to think of it,' the headmaster suddenly decided, 'the Hat has been acting rather odd lately. It keeps looking at me strangely, which is really saying something as the Hat has no eyes.' Albus considered this for a moment.
Deep down, he had the feeling that the Hat knew something very important, something that it was just not willing to share at the moment. He had felt something similar from the castle lately as well. She had been somewhat reluctant with him as of late whenever he conversed with her. She was behaving rather bizarrely, acting as though she was trying to hide something from him.
Albus eyed the Hat suspiciously. 'But then, it is possibly still angry that I didn't want Harry in Slytherin. Plus, the both of them – Hat and Castle – are probably still mad over my treatment of him last year.'
And that thought brought his mind to Harry's fifth year at Hogwarts. The past year, which had been nothing but one fiasco after another. Albus Dumbledore had believed that the teenager would be sad, despondent over the loss of a friend. He had never imagined that the boy would be so very angry, not that Albus' own actions had helped the volatile situation. He had even avoided eye contact with his most prized student, with his most beloved pupil.
'And Occlumency with Severus,' he thought incredulously, 'what in seven hells was I thinking?! I know that they must learn to work together and that Occlumency was the perfect opportunity. But still, I should have realized that Severus was not about to let his grudge go, allow his wounds to heal so easily.' He exhaled slowly, removing his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his long nose.
Albus concluded after a moment, replacing his glasses, 'I should have taught Harry myself, not left it to Severus.' He suddenly smiled with hope. 'But I will rectify that mistake. I will teach him Occlumency myself. Surely, the books that I sent him will be of help.'
The professor's smile faded as his thoughts turned turbulent once again, and he remembered another blunder of the past year, Sirius. He had really and truly blown it, as they say. He should have known that Sirius would not stand for being caged again, not after Azkaban. Nonetheless, his desire to protect the man and his desire to make amends for not believing Sirius' innocence had overridden his common sense.
'And now it is both Sirius and Harry that have paid the price of my blunder,' Albus concluded. 'Harry… my poor Harry.'
He was worrying even more for the boy over the summer than usual, if such a thing were even possible. Albus knew that Harry would mostly likely be even angrier and more aggressive than before. Glancing around his office, he could almost imagine the damage that had surely been inflicted upon Number Four, Privet Drive. The teenager was bound to be furious, and he had every right to be.
However, a new and heart wrenching concern had entered the headmaster's mind shortly before the summer. What if Harry, who had suffered so very severely and who had lost the one person he loved most of all, attempted to harm himself?
There was a very good chance that this could actually occur, and it was this same fear that had first led the professor to use Peachy the house-elf to spy on Harry. Albus had believed and still very much thought that Harry would not tell him or any member of the Order of his true feelings. The boy would only tell such things to his friends. Nevertheless, they in turn would probably not tell the Order either. The only way to truly find out about the teenager's mental state was to have him watched. Yet, this had turned into another disaster, for Harry had discovered Peachy.
From there, Albus had sent books as an apology and had actually asked Harry if everything was alright. A stupid thing to do considering that Sirius had recently died and Harry was most certainly not all right. He had even inquired if the teenager was still having the visions, wanting to know if Tom was attempting to punish the boy through their connection. However, the headmaster suspected that Harry saw this inquiry as further proof that Albus cared nothing for him, only his scar.
Eventually, after the house-elf fiasco, his fear for Harry had once more led him to ask Alastor to watch the teenager even more closely. It was also this fear that had made him ask Tonks to transform into one of the boy's friends and speak with him.
At the remembrance, Albus again shook his head, melancholy filling his mind. Yet, before he could be lost in the uprising of sadness, he heard a rustle of wings as Fawkes the phoenix landed on his shoulder. The sound of uplifting notes resounded in his ears, trying to banish the depression.
"I just wish," he whispered to the bird, "I just wish, for just this once, I had someone to ask for help. Someone else to help me decide." He absentmindedly lifted a hand and stroked the phoenix. "You are good at giving advice, my friend. But even between the two of us, it seems as though everything is falling apart." He exhaled heavily and physically turned to his familiar Fawkes. "They expect me to have all the answers, my friend. But I don't. I don't really have any answers."
Fawkes trilled and nodded his head in understanding. "Maybe you should go to them, the Order, and explain what is happening. They will understand that you need assistance. You cannot possible do everything on your own." The phoenix mentally whispered the words to Albus, "Further, you need to tell them, Molly Weasley especially, why you didn't want them to send Harry birthday gifts."
Albus actually winced at the reminder of Molly's resulting tirade when he had informed her that she was not to send Harry gifts.
"That was truly a stupid move on your part, Albus," the bird chided, "and she did make an excellent point. You could have just given his things to the guards, but you didn't think of that did you?" the phoenix questioned smugly. "Which is further proof that you don't think or know everything and that you need help." Fawkes nipped him hard on the ear.
Albus again winced but did not disagree.
"However, I do know one thing for certain," Fawkes carried on his earlier line of conversation blithely, "you need to tell Harry. You need to tell Harry the truth, the complete and entire truth." The bird fixed Albus with a green and golden stare. "If you love him, as I know that you do, you will tell him the truth. You will tell him why you are trying to read his Ministry files. You will work to regain his trust. You will treat him like the adult that his is. Yet, above all," the Phoenix finished, staring at Dumbledore with such a fiery look that the headmaster was taken back at the sentiment, "you will show him how much he means to you."
Saint Ottery, Lovegood Home: July 30th, 1996
Luna Lovegood's crystalline eyes stared at the smooth surface of the glass. Her usually sing-song but now serious voice whispered two words, and she waved her hand. Instantly, an image of a young man with pitch-black hair and emerald eyes appeared in the once blank glass. The boy, or rather young man, was in a room. It looked to be his bedroom, and he was lying on his bed and staring at the ceiling. Every few seconds, he glanced at the clock on his bedside table.
Apparently, Harry Potter was not patiently awaiting midnight, not that Luna really expected that he would. But the teenager's impatience didn't really register with her, for she was far to preoccupied.
'Where is she?' Luna pondered as she stared at the image on the seeing-glass. 'Argent should be there by now.' A worried thought consumed her mind, 'What if she doesn't make it? It's ten to midnight, and she should be there by now.' Another worrisome idea occurred to Luna, 'What if something has happened to her?'
Her eyes widened as her mind began to process the implications of that statement. A feeling of panic rose up inside her. 'What if she was attacked? What if she's dead? What if someone took the amulet--'
However, Luna's panic was short-lived, for in the mirror, she saw Harry sit up and cautiously approach his window. He pulled his holly wand from his pocket and crept forward, only to jump back as a large, fluffy ball of grey feathers shot through the opening at top speed. He tensed for a moment, almost firing a spell, but then relaxed as he realized it was only an owl.
It was only Argent, though Harry didn't know that was her name.
Luna breathed a heavy sigh of relief and let out a laugh of triumph. They were going to make it. Now, all that was left was for Harry to open the package and for midnight to arrive.
'Then, as they say,' the girl thought giddily, 'it's show time.'
Over Surrey: July 30th, 1996
It was minutes to midnight, and Argent had to hurry. The stormy grey owl beat her wings faster, attempting to gain speed. She had to hurry, or she would not make it. Time was of the essence.
She swooped and soared over the rows of houses, searching for the correct one. She passed over row after row, and she screeched in surprise as she almost flew head first into a shiny, shimmering barrier. A ward.
The bird attempted to hover as her mind went through various scenarios of bypassing the barrier. After several frantic moments, Argent finally decided to simply fly straight through it. The worst that could possibly happen is that she would smack into it beak first.
Taking the owl version of a deep breath, she went directly into the ward and right through. She hooted in triumph and headed for an open and lit window. She beat her wings, and with a burst of speed, she entered the opening, surprising the human boy that was currently occupying the bedroom on the other side. The human male whirled around in surprise, a piece of long wood instantly appearing in his hand. It took his brain several seconds to realize that the invader was not a Dark Lord but was in fact a large, grey owl. He grinned with clear relief.
"Hello there," he called to Argent, approaching her perch on his bed. Or at least, that is what Argent assumed at any rate. "Do you have something for me?"
She ruffled her feathers and bobbed her head as an affirmative.
"Well," he stated with a laugh, glancing at the clock. "You are a bit early. It won't be midnight for another two minutes." He paused for a moment. "Wait a second; I thought the Order said that they weren't going to owl packages." He eyed Argent suspiciously. "Tonks said that she would give my gifts to me tomorrow when she came for guard duty." He again gazed at the owl. "Unless you are from someone not in the Order."
Argent hooted as if to say yes.
"Are you from someone I know at school?" he questioned.
Another affirmative hoot.
"From the DA?"
Argent hooted again, this time a bit more forcefully as she was becoming tired of this guessing game. She had a schedule to keep, after all.
"Alright then." The human gently removed the package from her leg and then carried her over to the watering dish. "Help yourself."
However, Argent didn't. Instead she flew back over to the envelope the human had just removed from her leg.
'Open it,' she thought to the human. 'You need to open this now.'
Somehow, as if by magic, the human's green eyes flicked to her, and he nodded. He smiled gently and approached.
"Hey, girl." He reached forward and stroked her feathers. "You really want me to open this, don't you?"
Argent hooted once more in reply.
The human nodded his head and chuckled. "Fine. I will." In the background, he heard the clock downstairs clime midnight.
He removed the paper from the end of the envelope and turned it over, dumping out its contents. Just as the clock struck for the final time, half of a swirling, blue amulet fell from the envelope onto his awaiting hand.
The second he touched the warm stone, his eyes widened in sudden recognition, but it was too late. He didn't even have time to react as his senses were overloaded by the brilliant light and fathomless warmth emanating from the object. His emerald eyes rolled back into his head; he sank to the floor and was drawn into blissful darkness.
Sitting on his bed, taking in the whole scene, Argent the owl hooted once. She stared at the now unconscious boy, who was currently laying in a crumbled heap on the floor. Then, she flew out the window and back to her mistress, her mission complete.
AN: Expect some twists and turns in the next few chapters. Everything is not how it appears. Some of the "bad guys" might not actually be bad. They might just be trying to make the best of a bad situation.
To everyone who reviewed: Thanks!
Special thanks to Hobbit-Tabby for the beta and Make Way for Baby (online) for helping with name meanings.
Chapter Eleven: A Gate, a Castle, a Hat, and a Portrait
Ever Hopeful,
Azar
Updated and Edited:
05/31/08
