Coming Up…

So this must be how Harry felt when he was a child. To have others know more about you than you know about yourself.

Pearl Eye

Chapter 7

A Stranger To Oneself

"They're called The Sacred 28, the last pureblood families that exist in Britain. It's a narrow-minded concept, blood supremacy. According to them, their families are untainted — untouched by Muggles and Muggle-born wizards. To them, mixing their blood would muddy their lineage. That's where the slur originates. But long ago, in ancient times, there was a family far more omnipotent than any of the 28 we know today. And they were the Aylary family. One of the first wizarding families to rise in wizarding Britain, the people chose them to rule our society. Initially, they tried to oppose, desiring to be a part of the whole instead of above it. But they finally conceded, seeing the bigger picture of it all. And for centuries, they ruled.

"Then around 993 A.D., a group of friends saw there needed to be a space to educate the next generation of witches and wizards, one that protected them from Muggles' persecution and those fearful of the unknown. And so, Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin founded Hogwarts.

"But a fifth founder has been left out of history. And he was Asher Aylary.

"It's important to know that each house has an identity or quality that was inherent in the founders. Or rather, the values they cared about most. Each had house mascots, too. Gryffindor valued courage and perseverance above all else, a lion their mascot. Hufflepuff appreciated justice and loyalty with a badger symbol. Ravenclaw cherished knowledge and wit, an eagle their representation. And Slytherin thirsted for ambition, cunning, and power, a serpent their mascot. But the fifth house embodied all of those qualities and more. Aylary valued transformation, transcendence, and all there is. Quintessence. A phoenix characterized those values.

"For decades, students were sorted into these houses, though the Hat scarcely sorted students into the Aylary House. To the wizarding world, the difficulty of being sorted into Aylary made the family that much more distinguished. That much more respected. Because the qualities they held were akin to hope and enlightenment, a state of mind many desired to achieve while peace reigned.

"This, however, upset Slytherin. Not only did he detest Aylary for his power and public appeal, but he hated the family's resistance to completely separating from Muggles. While Muggles subjugated wizards and witches left and right, the Aylary family saw the opportunity to protect our people and move beyond fear to create a space where all could coexist. He used his innate ability to merge the four qualities — courage, justice, wit, and cunning — to do so. And he was successful. Using knowledge, he learned all about Muggles — their history, traditions, psychology, everything. He then selected which Muggles could be trusted, which couldn't be, and those whose vision aligned with Aylary's. He bravely defied wizarding tradition and worked to create a more equitable world so that the focus could shift from materiality to something more — and he achieved this ambition with the covertness it required to transform fear into hope.

"But as I said, Slytherin hated Aylary's collective-centered vision. There was nothing more he wanted than power, and there was nothing more important to him than pure blood. He yearned to maintain the separateness between Muggles and wizards, thinking the latter to be more powerful, more formidable, and all-around superior. And the only way he knew to gain control was to chop down the Aylary family.

"It sadly didn't take much for Slytherin to amass followers, those who also valued pure blood more than all else. Fear drove them, and they succumbed to their survival instincts, disparaging all concepts of enlightenment for self-preservation against persecution. Slytherin fed on this, and the more followers he gained, the more danger the Aylary family encountered.

"When a mob set fire to their lands and began murdering members of his family, Asher read between the lines — a sacrifice had to be made. Peace could only come if he and his family left for Muggle society. He taught his kin how to retract their magic, as Slytherin wanted to eradicate the entire line, even if it required entering the Muggle realm to do so. But before the Aylary family all but disappeared from the wizarding world, Asher asked his closest friend Godric to use his bravery to protect those who could not do so themselves. And he promised that one day, his line would return to, once again, bring hope.

"Slytherin erased any trace of the Aylary family from history. He performed a mass obliviation, obliterating any fragment of Aylary from their memories. But Salazar, in his pretentiousness, couldn't imagine anyone besides himself could master Occlumency. Those able resisted the spell and kept the secret of the Aylary family for centuries, passing it on to their descendants. They told them never to speak of it outside their families — to only come forth when the Aylary family reemerged. But those who knew became doubtful. They began to believe that perhaps the Aylary family did die out. Many made the Aylary name obsolete — ushering the family into the annals of forgotten history. But those few who maintained hope? They still believed the Aylary would return, especially when times continuously became bleaker and bleaker as more Dark wizards rose to power.

"But then you came into the wizarding world, Hermione. And you returned just as the second prophecy predicted you would."

Hermione absorbed Harry's words, blank stare transfixed on a book behind his ear.

She wasn't ready to confront the information he just delivered. It was all too much.

Instead, she distracted herself with other thoughts.

I wonder how long this library's been here.

What classes do I have tomorrow?

Wow, Harry's a pretty good storyteller.

How many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop?

But her final thought pulled her out of reverie:

So this must be how Harry felt when he was a child. To have others know more about you than you know about yourself.

Now, his words came flooding back to her. Despite her disorientation, she forced herself to process a past and future she never knew:

She was an Aylary, one of the most ancient and respected families to be persecuted into erasure.

She was the prophesied heir who would bring the Dark Lord down and restore hope.

And somehow, a pearl was the key to doing so.

Hermione abruptly stood up, pacing back and forth between the bookshelves to continue processing. Harry sat patiently. "I don't understand any of this. How the hell am I supposed to bring down the Dark Lord? I just got here! I barely know how to perform Transfiguatrion!" She turned angrily on her employer, the Boy Who Lived. "You're supposed to the be the Savior, The Chosen One! You're supposed to be the fucking symbol of hope!"

"And I am." He slowly raised to his feet and took a step forward. "But that's all I am. A symbol. A beginning to the end you're prophesied to bring."

Hermione refused to believe it. Shaking her head, she gripped her hands. "There's no way. You've got the wrong person! I-I can't be!" She looked at Harry desperately. "I can't be responsible for the lives of every witch and wizard and Muggle there is."

He nodded and took one more step. He'd taken enough to stand in front of her. "It's why I'm here: to guide you. To protect you."

Suddenly, anger filled her entire being. She pressed the palms of her hands into Harry's chest with a great shove. His shoulder only swayed slightly. Despite her ineffectual push, she pointed a finger between his eyes as she hissed, "You should've told me sooner. You manipulated me. Convinced me that you were just some rich man in need of a servant. You…" Her voice trailed off.

She didn't want to believe it. But the thought penetrated what she desperately hoped wasn't true: Was it all fake? Was Harry just pretending to have feelings for her? To reel her in so he could do his job?

Hermione tucked the thought into the recesses of her mind. There was no time to consider that. There was a bigger picture she had to confront.

Harry looked down. "You'd think me mad if I told you sooner. Bringing you here to work was the only way I knew to keep you safe, under my protection. My manor is likely the most warded place there is, only second to Hogwarts and perhaps third to wherever Voldemort is. It's a haven. No one can get to you when you're with me. And it's why Death Eaters are trying desperately to kill me — to get to you."

Her heart stopped as she snapped her neck to look at the man. She swallowed. "So you're doing it again, are you? Risking your life to protect everyone else?"

He shrugged, meeting her blazing gaze. "Don't you get it? What else are we supposed to do? The future of the world hangs in the balance. It's not fair that we've been asked to do this. But I can't live knowing that my inaction could lead to the deaths of millions if Voldemort succeeds."

Her chest was heaving, panic settling in. Was that the consequence of not fulfilling the prophecy? Did so many lives really hang in the balance?

Hermione's legs wobbled as she stepped backward until she hit the door. Gripping her shirt, she desperately tried to suck in air because this couldn't be her reality. She was a regular girl who happened to be a witch. She had a plan! After school, she was going to get a job in the Ministry, one where she could help people, reform the laws, and ideally bring peace.

Destroying Voldemort is the ultimate way to achieve that, a voice whispered across her mind. Help people by bringing peace and hope to the world.

Hermione wasn't ready to hear that. Still, in disbelief, she straightened, her voice cracking, "Who am I to do this, Harry! I'm nobody! I can't save the world! It's ridiculous that those words are even coming out of my mouth! Like I'm in some superhero action movie! Do you hear me?! I can't save the world!"

"Not alone, you can't." He was in front of her again, his hands on her shoulders. "You understand? You're not alone. You have me. I'll always be by your side. You'll never be alone in this, do you understand? Now breathe."

Hermione didn't say anything, closing her eyes and taking deep breaths. She wasn't sure what was real and what wasn't anymore.

Harry leaned his face closer, and Hermione slowly lifted her lids. Those emerald eyes were like an enchantment, giving her no choice but to look into them. "I need you to say it, Hermione," he whispered. "Tell me, do you understand? Do you understand that you're not alone in this?"

She could see it in his eyes. Beyond the richness of the damnedest green she'd ever seen, she saw his pain, his sincerity, and his undying devotion to her. It sent a shiver up her backbone to know the intensity within his gaze was all for her. That he felt so strongly for her.

Her breath hitched as she slowly nodded, wondering if their immediate connection, their fierce attraction to each other, had anything to do with their linked prophecies.

He narrowed his eyes, then said, "Say it."

Still breathless, she managed to susurrate, "I understand… I'm not alone." Able to speak more sternly, she continued, "I'm not alone. I'm not alone." And with that, he wrapped her arms around her middle, pulling her close into a hug. She immediately wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him just as closely.

"I'm sorry it has to be you," he whispered into her hair. "I wish it ended with me. I'm so sorry it has to be you."

She felt her throat constricting at his words. "Thank you," she whispered. "But now, you're not alone in this either. You have me."

At her words, his grip tightened, and they stood that way for what seemed like hours.

But Hermione still had questions.

She pulled her head away, her arms resting on his shoulders and his hands circling her waist. "What the hell does any of this have to do with a pearl?"

Harry chuckled and stepped away, taking all of his warmth with him.

"I suppose I did forget the most important part."

He stood by her side, and the two leaned against the door. Turning his head to speak directly to her, he said, "You read about the Horcruxes. In his desperate attempt to grasp immortality, he ripped his soul into seven pieces. But, as the prophecy says, there was an eighth Horcrux. And it's The Pearl of Aylary. The legend goes: Voldemort learned of the Aylary family through a pureblooded follower, one of the few Slytherin didn't obliviate. He needed those few followers to remember and ensure no Aylary rose to power again.

"No one knows what lengths Voldemort went to find the pearl, but when he had it, they say he hid it in the depths of hell, for it was the most powerful Horcrux there was. The most ancient magic breathed within it, old magic from the most powerful wizarding family to exist in Britain. And that Horcrux alone can strengthen Voldemort one thousand times over."

"If he hid it, why doesn't he return and take it?"

"We concluded that if Voldemort hasn't used it yet, then someone — an ally to the Aylarys, perhaps — must have found a way to steal it."

She nodded, looking down at her feet. "And now, the Death Eaters are after me. Because they believe I'm the key to finding the pearl."

"But I won't let them get to you."

Hermione nodded absently. "If they do, though… I have no idea where it is. They'll kill you and kill me when they realize I know nothing."

Harry stood in front of her again. "Hey, I thought you understood. I'll always be by your side. You'll never be alone."

She wanted to believe him, and she mostly did. But no mortal man was infallible. Still, having faith was better than being cynical when the fate of the world was in your hands. So she nodded. "I understand."

He gave a firm nod then headed to his desk. "It won't just be us, anyway. There's a secret society called The Order of the Phoenix. During the First Wizarding War, Albus Dumbledore formed the group to fight against Voldemort's army. The Order fought in the second war, too, and never disbanded once we knew the fight wasn't won." He pulled out a blank sheet of paper that, with a wave of his hand, filled with words.

"We've been planning a long time since we learned of the prophecy. There was no definitive way to get the math right since Slytherin erased all traces of your family line. But we knew that someone would return in the next decade. And, coming into your power the same time the prophecy predicted, we could only guess it was you." He paused, making sure she was okay, before continuing. "We've been searching for the pearl to no avail, and The Order is prepared to protect you by any means necessary as we continue this search. But I want to teach you how to protect yourself."

He handed her the piece of paper. On it was a long list of spells and charms. She couldn't control the smile that came onto her face. "You think I can do all of this?"

"With my help, I know you can. So, the time has come. You start training tomorrow."

Hermione looked down at the paper then back up. "Why now? Why couldn't you have told me sooner?"

He sighed. "I was ordered not to tell you anything, not until they definitively knew you're the last Aylary. But after you read the fifth edition, I couldn't keep it from you anymore. So now that you know, I want you to be prepared and as strong as you can be."

But Hermione, always one to put pieces together, had another question. "The Order of the Phoenix, is that what's it called?"

His lips curved upward, knowing what her next question would be. "Yes, named after Dumbledore's loyal phoenix, Fawkes. But I'm beginning to suspect that calling it The Order of the Phoenix had less to do with Fawkes and more to do with you. I think Dumbledore knew of the prophecy, knew about the Aylary family, and named our group in the spirit of the final war against Voldemort. He always knew more than he let on."

A soft smile came to her face. Thinking of her ancestry and the phoenix: the Aylarys had been extinguished, suspected to be extinct. By learning how to hide their magic, it seemed the Aylary line was nothing more than ashes. But Hermione rose, like the phoenix, like her family crest. And she now held the key to transforming the world and bringing peace and hope again.

It wouldn't be easy, Hermione understood that. But she also knew she wasn't alone.

Remembering the devotion she captured in his gaze, she felt confident with Harry by her side.

It was almost two in the morning when Hermione crept back into her bed. She imagined waking up to realize it had all been a dream. But when she pinched her arm, there was no denying that she was awake. And that she was the last of the Aylary, the only one who could defeat Voldemort.

She rolled to her side, facing the window and pulling the covers over her head. How had the roles reversed? How was Hermione now A Symbol of Hope instead of Harry?

Her contemplations halted as she heard the creak of her door. Hair on her neck's back stood. And while tempted to jump out of bed and grab the wand tucked beneath her pillow, her faithful instincts urged against it.

Footsteps crept forward as whispers began,

"It looks like a lump in the bed! She's not here."

"Shhh. Keep your voice down!"

It was Ginny and Mrs. Weasley. What the hell were they doing in her room.

Hermione felt her comforter lift slowly from her head. She tried to stay as still as possible, steadying her breathing to look as peacefully asleep as possible. She could feel the heat of someone hovering over her body.

Ginny released a sigh of relief. "Good, she's in bed." Then after a beat, "So where the hell's Harry?"

"He's in the library. I saw the light from under the door."

For a moment, Hermione heard nothing until Ginny's footsteps moved into the bathroom. She returned and looked under Hermione's bed next. "You're right. He's in that god damned locked library that he won't let me enter."

Mrs. Weasley snorted. "Wonder what secrets he's hiding in there. What he's so desperate to protect from you. From us."

A low growl was practically next to her ear. "I wish I could hex you to oblivion," Ginny whispered. "She waltzed in this home with her short uniform and her frizzy hair and threw herself at my husband!"

"Shhh," Mrs. Weasley quieted her daughter more sharply now. "Stop being jealous of that mudblood! This is bigger than your marriage, Ginerva. Bigger than these silly feelings of love you carry for a man who fell out of love with you years ago."

"No thanks to you," she grumbled.

"Don't you understand?" Her mother asked. "The dark and the light are vying for this girl because she's the key to something. And if we don't find out soon, our family will face repercussions."

She heard the footsteps retreating, but one pair stopped. Hermione could only imagine Ginny staring daggers at her back before she too exited, leaving Hermione alone.

Though gone, Hermione refused to open her eyes, refused to stop pretending she was asleep.

Because she now knew that nothing was a dream. It was her reality.

And her life was in danger.

A/N: Reviews are always appreciated :)

Up Next…

Flakes of Snow and Daunting Revelations