Chapter 3. Rules of the Game
"You'll have to do better than that if you wish to even scrape me," Henry said as he and Harry duelled. Yes, actually duelled properly, with wands and not hundreds of spells appearing out of nowhere. Harry's jelly-legs hex fizzled out on impact with the spirit's shield. "Besides, with this spell choice, you might as well call it a picnic instead of a duel. Who do you hope to defeat with schoolyard tricks?"
Harry had no time to think of a clever retort though, as the Heroic Spirit, unlike him, did not limit himself to mostly harmless hexes, not shying away from curses. Nothing lethal or seriously dangerous, but bone-breakers were appearing more and more often. Though Harry also recognized pink flashes of tendron-severing curses. Nasty stuff. After being hit by a couple of those and then patched up by Henry Harry had no desire to ever be hit by one.
"Come on, Harry," Henry taunted, completely unaffected by the duel, "I am not even using transfiguration."
"Tarantallegra!" Harry shot at the spirit. The spell once again fizzled out on impact with the elder man's shield.
"What will it take for you to resort to real spells?" Henry sighed in obvious annoyance. "Should I start throwing unforgivables around?"
"Are you mad?!" Harry shouted as he hid behind a snake statue for cover.
"Quite the opposite actually," Henry replied. "You, on the other hand, clearly are. Hiding behind a material object in a fight against a master of transfiguration? You are just inviting someone to kill you."
Just like that, the snake came to life, while its material changed from stone into metal. It hissed angrily at him. Thankfully, Harry managed to sprint away before the beast could bite his head off. He tried using parseltongue, but the statue clearly didn't care much for conversation. Henry, on the other hand, laughed.
"Parseltongue? Clever boy," the spirit chuckled, making Harry scowl, "but this is a piece of metal given a form of a snake and animated by magic. Nothing even close to a real snake you see."
"That's well and good," Harry said as he dodged a lunge from the statue, "but how do I defeat it?"
"Are you seriously asking me that question?" Henry raised an eyebrow. Really, Harry had the temptation to just hex the eyebrows of the spirit's face. Then again, that would probably be pointless, Henry was a spirit, after all, and therefore immaterial. Well, to be fair the point was entirely moot as Harry had yet to land a single hit on his opponent. "I might make our little friend here impervious to magic just for that."
"You're bloody impossible," Harry said in annoyance as he dodged yet another lunge. "Bombarda!"
His spell struck true, leaving a gaping hole instead of the right face of the snake's body. The left one remained unaffected however and almost scored a bite. Harry repeated his tactic and dispatched the creature.
"Have you ever had students in the past — or future? Oh nevermind, you know what I mean," Harry asked, taking advantage of the short reprieve.
"I have, as a matter of fact," Henry replied after a moment of hesitation.
"Have they ever told you how much of a shameless slave-driver you are?" Harry continued to scowl.
"It doesn't matter," Henry cut him off with surprising ruthlessness in his voice. "What matters is your training. Don't try to talk your way out of a duel. It isn't your strong side."
"Obviously," Harry grumbled.
"Now, let us continue," the spirit raised his wand again, but whatever spell he had in mind was interrupted when Hermione entered the hall from one of the tunnels she was exploring.
"Oh, Hermione!" Harry smiled. "Any luck?"
"No, nothing," Hermione sighed as she looked at the hand-drawn map in her hands. "Another dead end."
"There's no need to despair," Henry said. "The Chamber is big and besides, you already managed to find another entrance."
"Oh! Henry," Hermione looked at the spirit. "I've read the book you gave me to the end. I have a question to ask."
"Ask away," Henry replied, sitting down on a chair he had just conjured. Harry couldn't help thinking that the spirit was showing off. Henry would usually sit down only when he was bored, and Harry could tell that the Heroic Spirit was actually engaged in a conversation.
"Well, the book states that every hero has a noble phantasm," Hermione said. "What about yours?"
The spirit took a moment and seemed to be dissecting Hermione with his look, but then it sighed and ran a hand through the admittedly short mop of black hair. "The Deathly Hallows."
"What?" Hermione asked in obvious confusion, which Harry shared.
"This ties into me not being able to tell you of the future," Henry sighed again. "I can recommend you to read the Tale of the Three Brothers by Beedle the Bard however. That is all I am willing to disclose. It will shape the legend of Harry Potter Master of Death, so you'll have to find everything out on your own."
"Are you really forbidden from telling us your legend?" Hermione asked.
"No, but it involves revealing the future, which is taboo," Henry shook his head.
"Wait, what's a noble phantasm?" Harry interrupted.
"Haven't you read the book, Harry?" Hermione frowned at him.
"Uh, well, most of it, but I didn't quite reach the end before Henry loaned it to you," Harry replied scratching his neck.
"Honestly," Hermione huffed. "Well, a noble phantasm is a manifestation of a Heroic Spirit's legend as well as their beibg. It is their trump card, the ultimate weapon."
"Correct," Henry nodded from his chair.
"Aren't you going to use it against me?" Harry asked, perplexed.
"During training? As you are now?" there was a sense of utter incredulity in the spirit's voice. "I was under the impression you wanted to survive the tournament, not die before the first task. Noble phantasms are very powerful, mine especially."
"I never thought I would become a Heroic Spirit with such an insufferable personality," Harry said. "Did you take lessons on how to be nasty or something?"
"As a matter of fact I did," Henry smirked. "From Snape actually."
"What?!" Harry and Hermione exclaimed simultaneously. "Really?" Harry asked in bemusement.
"No," Henry's smirk widened, though there was something behind it that Harry couldn't identify, "but you should have seen your faces. They will brighten my existence in the Throne of Heroes."
"Can we get on with it already?" Harry asked, feeling embarrassed at falling for such a cheap trick. There was absolutely no way he could have taken any lessons from Snape willingly. None. Whatsoever.
"Of course," Henry stood up and his chair vanished. "This time, I want you to try and focus on the feeling of flying. Let only the spells into your mind as you are dodging. I forbid you from using incantations under the penalty of, let's see, half a lap more during your morning run tomorrow per incarnation."
Harry groaned.
"Quit your whining," Henry reprimanded and started the assault.
In the end, Harry ended up earning himself two more laps around the lake the next day, but still failed to cast a non-verbal spell. He kicked a statue in frustration. Of course, it was only his leg that was left with a stinging sensation after a flash of pain.
"Why can't we study normally?" Harry grumbled.
"Because your skull is so thick," Henry commented idly. "I thought I told you."
"Well your methods aren't working either," Harry snapped. "All you have me do is basically running and jumping."
"Harry-" Hermione wanted to intervene, but Henry stopped her.
"No, there's no need for your interruptions, Ms Granger," the spirit said in a stiff manner, "this matter is between the student and the teacher," Henry looked at Harry, "So, do you believe you know magic better than I?"
"No," Harry replied, taking a step back, "but…"
"I had a number of students," Henry continued, giving Harry a harsh glare. "While we had our fair share of problems, you are the first one to be so utterly lazy and ungrateful. My previous students would wake up all on their own at half past four and do their exercises without any need for supervision. They would do everything I say as I say and accept my praise or criticism with equal eagerness," the spirit paused. "But you do everything as if it were for my benefit and you were some kind of victim of exploitation."
"I do not!" Harry shouted, his fists clenched at his sides.
"Don't interrupt me," Henry said coldly. "You'd better change that attitude, Harry, or I'll change my views on our partnership. Do your meditation," with that the spirit disappeared.
Harry sighed with irritation and sat down. Hermione, having witnessed the argument, came closer and spoke softly:
"I think you were too-"
"What?" Harry snapped, his meditation forgotten. "Too ungrateful?"
"Don't give me that, Harry Potter," Hermione replied with her stern face on. "I am not going to repeat Snape's usual phrase here. I was going to say that you were too rash and expect results far too soon. Besides, haven't you noticed, you have improved."
"Sorry, Hermione," Harry looked at his feet. "But I don't see any improvement. Besides, he's not teaching me anything new about magic. I could've easily done all we had on my own!"
"Then why haven't you?" Hermione quirked an eyebrow, making Harry frown. "Until Henry came along, you didn't train at all."
"I… Well, I…" Harry stammered, but the raised eyebrow was all the indication that his efforts were not being appreciated. Embarrassment was spreading through him like wildfire because Hermione had just made a very good point.
"I am sure Henry is still going to teach you something more advanced when you are ready," Hermione spoke patiently. "You just need to be patient."
"Don't patronize me, Hermione," Harry said tiredly.
"I am not patronizing you, Harry," the girl replied with indignation.
"Sorry," Harry sighed. "I am just a little… I need some time alone to think."
Hermione nodded and gathered her things in her bag. She left the Chamber with a quiet "goodbye". With there being an additional exit in one of the corridors, she could easily leave on her own, without Harry's help. It was about the only truly useful thing Henry had done since his arrival — showing Harry how to switch passwords from parseltongue to English.
In any case, he still had a lot to consider. Harry sighed and turned everything out, concentrating on the feeling of flight. It engulfed him like a fine sheet of calm. Suddenly the wetness of the room and the cold of the floor were unimportant. The only thing on his mind was now his problem with Henry. Was he really that lazy that he never even once considered training on his own? Even Harry had to admit that he became much more proficient at dodging spells, a skill that could one day save his life, and studies became easier with the improved focus. Why had he never considered doing any of those extremely simple exercises on his own?
Well… Maybe Henry had a point when he called Harry a lazy brat. This admission left Harry really sour. Still, he sighed, there was no point in delaying the inevitable.
"Henry," he called. His Heroic Spirit materialized from black smoke an looked at him with that damned raised eyebrow of his. "I'm sorry," Harry said sullenly.
"Oh?" Henry feigned surprise. "That was uncharacteristically fast for you."
"Hermione talked to me," Harry shrugged.
"Ah," The spirit nodded. "If there was ever one girl that could get to me through my stubbornness, that would be Hermione Granger. So?"
"So?" Harry looked at the spirit with confusion.
"Yes, what do you intend to do?"
"Train, like we've been doing," Harry replied simply. "I don't have anything else in mind… And I'd be glad if you could teach me some spells."
"I see that we have definitely made some progress," Henry sighed. "But your skull is still as thick as ever. I have been teaching you magic."
"But how?" Harry looked at the spirit in surprise. "We've just been discussing theory."
"And I suppose you think that every new spell you come across is an entirely new piece of magic?" Henry asked.
"Well, isn't it?" Harry looked at the spirit in curiosity.
"No, of course not," Henry pinched the bridge of his nose. "They all have similar theory behind them. By modifying the general principles of a school of magic where needed you can easily get any spell you want. That is especially important in transfiguration. Do you honestly believe there is an actual spell for transforming every single item in existence into another?"
Harry chose not to reply but had the decency to be embarrassed. That notion was indeed delusional now that he thought about it.
"In any case," Henry conjured a chair for himself, "get on with your meditation."
-xxx-
"So how is in the Throne of Heroes?" Harry asked Henry as they were seating near the lake early in the morning. His exercises were done, but he wanted to know more about his future self, considering how little information the spirit actually offered in their previous exchanges.
"Why the sudden question?" asked Henry.
"I'm just curious," Harry shrugged. "You must have spent a lot of time there… Come to think of it, how old are you actually?"
"Old," was everything Henry said. "But the time in the Throne of Heroes doesn't count. There is no concept of time there. Everything that has happened will happen and vice versa."
"Wow," Harry said in surprise, "that's convoluted."
"The Throne of Heroes is a concept beyond human comprehension," Henry replied simply. For a moment, both were just staring at the murky waters of the Black Lake.
"I know you can't tell me the future," Harry asked suddenly, "but have you defeated Voldemort?"
"Yes, yes I have," Henry didn't take his eyes away from the lake. "But I can't tell you how or when. I can only nudge you in the right direction, not walk the way for you."
"Yeah," Harry muttered. "You think you'll be able to tell us anything after Hermione and I read that fairy tale you mentioned yesterday?"
"Everything I will be able to say you will already know from the book," Henry shrugged.
"Well, at least I know I can stop Voldemort," Harry sighed. "It's something at least… But say, is this weird way you cast spells some kind of special heroic ability?"
"No," Henry smiled. "I could do that while alive. Not an easy technique to master, but absolutely possible. Nothing comes without effort though, it took me a lot of time to figure everything out and make it work. I admit, though, my current nature does give it something of a boost but it's mostly in the form of power supply."
"So I can learn it?" Harry asked eagerly.
"You could," Henry said carefully, looking Harry over. "But it is very hard. We'll start working on it after Christmas. Don't expect fast results though — you'll be lucky if you manage to just summon one spell like this by the end of the year."
"But you said you can't help me so directly," Harry frowned.
"Ah, but I will not be learning it for you, will I?" Henry smirked.
"Sneaky," Harry's smirk mirrored that of his older self.
"The Sorting Hat did want to send us to Slytherin, did it not?" Henry winked, prompting a small laugh out of Harry.
"I think we wouldn't have fared very well there though," Harry replied.
"True," Henry nodded, "You are too thick for their intrigues, and I was no better in my youth."
"Hey!" Harry scowled. "How come you mock me more often than Snape?"
"Oh, you know what they say, Harry," Henry suddenly grew serious, all traces of amusement gone, "one should compare themselves not to their peers but to their past selves. I guess, looking back, the image I see of myself in you is less than flattering."
"You don't like me much, do you?" Harry looked at the lake. He tried to contain his bitterness but there was far too much of it. "Especially because I summoned you."
"True, I don't appreciate being summoned," Henry nodded slowly. "Though it is the least of my concerns. I look at you and see a rash boy, unprepared and impulsive, full of spirit and ideals while being utterly ignorant of the world around him. Somehow, despite telling myself that I don't care, I don't want you to get killed because of all this."
That was new. Harry had never expected to hear something like this from Henry. It was almost like the spirit actually cared about him, which was an alien concept for Harry. No one had ever cared enough to scold or berate him before, well Mrs Weasley didn't count, she was there only two weeks a year at the most. Besides, this honesty, it was invigorating — no one had ever been so brutally honest with him, Harry really did appreciate it. Then the last part of Henry's answer caught up with him.
"But you survived, how can I not?" he looked up at the Heroic Spirit, whose face was uncharacteristically grim.
"Realities are parallel until they are not," Henry sighed. He seemed to be struggling with something. "What happened in one of them, might not happen in another."
Harry froze. It was like the time came to a halt as he watched the expression on his elder self's face turn hollow. I am not entirely you, the words echoed in his head. "In that case, I can still die here?" he asked quietly.
"Yes," was a simple answer.
"It's all back to square one then," Harry said. "Heroic Spirit or no, I am no better than I was before."
"I beg to differ," Henry argued. "You are somewhat better than you were a week ago. A little bit, but it is noticeable. Besides, I will be able to protect you in dire situations... Yes," the spirit sighed, "I suppose I should have said it earlier. Lift your shirt and look at your back," Henry conjured a tall mirror.
Harry frowned but complied. As he took off the oversized shirt and took in how his back looked he couldn't help a gasp that escaped him. "What the hell is this?" he asked. There, in-between his shoulder blades was a black tattoo of a triangle with a circle in it, both bisected by a line.
"It's my symbol," Henry said. "Your command seals that mark your status as my summoner. They are very powerful spells, capable of forcing me to do anything, even defy the rules I cannot defy. Their nature is complicated, especially in this world, where they are provided by an unconventional source. Anyway, you will have three times when I will be able to come to your rescue despite being forbidden from it."
"Forbidden by who?" Harry asked, putting his shirt back on.
"The world, God, call it however you want," Henry shrugged. "Heroic spirits aren't welcome here, I am only allowed to remain because I agreed to these conditions and you provide me with an anchor."
"Huh," was all Harry could say. "Why didn't you say any of this earlier?" he asked in mild irritation, there went the honesty he was singing praises to.
"I didn't want to tempt you," Henry confessed. He lifted a stone and threw it into the lake. Uneven circles spread throughout the smooth surface of the water. "You only have three times, remember this. Don't waste the seals for nothing."
"Alright," Harry nodded and stood up from where he was sitting, feeling a mix of a great many feelings he couldn't understand. "What happens if no more seals remain?"
"I'll disappear," Henry replied. "These seals are a visual representation of my anchor in this world. No seals — no Heroic Spirit. I think you'd better go to the castle. Breakfast is about to start," with a wave of Henry's hand Harry's body was clean and his clothes changed from workout outfit to Hogwarts uniform. Harry nodded and left, as Henry dissipated.