A/N: So, I've decided: This chapter shall be then end...to Part One! Yes, despite all better judgement, I'm going to prolong this story even more. (After all, the Harry Potter series continues.) But, I just might condense books six and seven together, so that there are only two parts. It depends on how the story goes. (I've got a broad plan, but you never know when I'm sudden;y struck with another epiphany.) Anywho, wait and see how the story progresses.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters.
Always With Amaranta
Harry sat in Dumbledore's office, his head thumping painfully. Two deaths in one night. Why did everyone around him die? And it was all his fault. His parents were killed because he existed, and now Sirius and Amaranta. Because of his stupidity, they had both suffered the consequences of befriending him.
Harry gritted his teeth to fight against the tears. He would not cry; he would not think. He should leave society as soon as possible. If anyone else associated with him, they might die too. Who was next? Ron? Hermoine? Maybe Dumbledore?
The dead fireplace sprung alive with emerald-green flame, and Dumbledore stepped into his office. Many of the wizards and witches in the portraits hanging on the walls uttered cries of welcome.
"Thank you," Dumbledore smiled softly.
He sat down in his comfortable armchair, his old, wizened eyes gleaming sadly behind half-moon spectacles. "You'll be happy to hear, Harry," Dumbledore said softly. "That none of your friends have received permanent damage from tonight's events."
Harry wanted to give some form of recognition, but he couldn't open his mouth. It seemed to him that Dumbledore was reminding him of the consequences of his actions.
"I know how you are feeling, Harry," muttered Dumbledore.
"No, you don't!" Harry suddenly found his voice, and it lashed out at Dumbledore with sudden vivacity.
"See, Dumbledore?" said Phineas Nigellus. "Never try to understand students. They'd rather wallow in self-pity and be tragically misunderstood, than-"
"That's enough, Phineas," Dumbledore said. He turned back to Harry. "There is no shame in what you are feeling. On the contrary, the fact that you feel pain is your greatest strength."
"Strength, is it?" Harry snapped, angry at Dumbledore for his calmness. "You don't know . . . You know nothing. . ."
"What don't I know?" Dumbledore said.
"I don't want to talk about my feelings, alright?" Harry said, crossing his arms over his chest.
Dumbledore only smiled patiently, resting his head on his wizened knuckles. "Harry, suffering like this shows that you are still a man. That you are human-"
"THEN I DON'T WANT TO BE HUMAN!" Harry burst, his eyes felt like they were on fire with the effort to hold his tears back. Dumbledore's calm, patient smile was vexing him. "I DON'T CARE!" He snatched a lunascope and hurled it at the wall. "I DON'T CARE ANYMORE! I WANT IT TO END! I WANT IT TO BE OVER! I DON'T CARE!"
He threw the table next to him against the wall and it broke into pieces. He flew into a fit, smashing anything that came to his raging fingers. He was not holding back the tears now. Anything to alleviate that pain in his throat was much welcomed.
"You do care," Dumbledore had not flinched, still smiling, and watching Harry as he demolished his office. Harry couldn't understand how he could be calm. For a second, he wanted to break the old man's face too.
"I DON'T!" Harry roared.
"Oh, yes, you do" said Dumbledore, unshaken. "You have lost your father, mother, a friend, and the closest thing to a parent you've ever had. Of course you care."
"YOU DON'T KNOW HOW I FEEL!" Harry bellowed. "YOU-STANDING THERE-YOU-"
He couldn't finish his sentence; his throat was burning with the effort. He wanted to get out of there, but that old wizard's calm face made him want to stay and cause a bit more damage.
"You are not nearly as angry with me as you should be," Dumbledore said, a hint of sadness in his voice. "It's my fault that Sirius and Amaranta died."
"What are you talking-?"
"Sirius is a brave, energetic, clever man, and such a man is not meant to be confined to a house, especially one as dreary as Grimmauld Place. Nevertheless, you should never have even considered going to the Department of Mysteries tonight. If I had been more open with you, you would have known a long time ago that Voldermort might try to lure you into danger, and you never would've been tricked into going there. And Sirius, along with Amaranta, would not have followed you. Amaranta." Dumbledore hesitated, extreme grief lining his face.
"Amaranta is entirely my fault, Harry," he continued. "I had figured out what she was and Voldermort's plan long before this night."
"WHAT?!" Harry backed away from Dumbledore, ready to break something else. "WHY DIDN'T YOU DO ANYTHING?! WHY DIDN'T YOU PROTECT HER?"
"I tried," Dumbledore said. "Amaranta is a Blommarian, this means that she is not human. She may look human, excluding her heart, which is a fruit-bearing plant. The only way to differentiate Blommarians between normal humans, say Muggles, is to check their surroundings. Blommarian's have a great influence on the vegetation around them, varying with their moods. Professor Sprout told me, that her plants would either die or grow out of control only the classes where Amaranta was present.
"When I realized what she was, I knew that Voldermort must be after her because of the rumor of the fruit born of their Heart Flower will bring one eternal life, immortality, if you will. However, this is not true. The fruit of the Heart Flower will only stop you from aging. Disease or any of the other means of death would not be immune from this change. Though, I don't think Voldermort knows this, or he chooses not to believe it. Either way, Amaranta's life was in danger.
"There is a reason Voldermort only sent her here now. It was not to spy on you, as she may have believed, or they told her. You see, Harry, a Blommarian's Heart Flower cannot bloom in the dark, no flower can. Because of the way she was treated, her heart was shrouded in darkness. He must have tried sending her to the Malfoy's to see if she could feel the right emotions in order to grow. However, that was not enough, so he sent her here, away from Death Eaters and his grasp. As you can guess, because she made friends with you, Mr. Weasley, and Miss Granger, her Heart Flower began to bloom. I knew that the happier she was, the shorter her life span would be, so I asked Professor Snape to see if he could keep her from growing. . ."
He suddenly dropped the droopy eyes and looked straight into Harry's green orbs. "I am not proud of what I've done. I have only made Amaranta's life miserable. I would never have hurt her, if the circumstances weren't so dangerous."
"Professor Dumbledore," Harry sat slowly in his chair. "What did you ask Snape to do?"
"I asked him to make a Passion Potion," said Dumbledore, looking frail and old sitting in his armchair. "The Passion Potion increases the emotion one feels tenfold. It's a very old, and obsolete potion, thought to make the first Love Potion, until its true attributes were discovered. Professor Snape administered the potion to young Mr. Malfoy when he was feeling angry, so that he would take out all his rage and jealousy on Amaranta, and hurt her. I knew that Draco's, being her friend, betrayal would be the one thing to make her Heart Flower stop growing, unfortunately, I was too late. She had already blossomed into a beautiful young lady, and I only ruined her. I am sorry, Harry."
Harry couldn't find it in his heart to hate Dumbledore. He wanted to. If not for him, he would have Amaranta and Sirius back, but he knew it was not Dumbledore's fault. If anyone's, it was Voldermort's.
"But there is hope," Dumbledore said as he reached into his pocket and produced the small, round, pink fruit he had seen come out of Amaranta. "Although the fruit cannot grant eternal life for humans, it can for Blommarians. Amaranta is a plant, so if we replant her, she'll spring back up, good as new. She will be reborn, a completely refreshed and renewed Amaranta."
"Are you serious?" Harry shot up out of his chair, knocking it over. "She can really come back?"
"Yes, but there's a catch: she won't remember a thing."
"What do you mean?"
"As I said before, she will be reborn. She will begin a completely separate life, as if she was being born for the first time. She won't remember Voldermort, the Draco, or you."
Harry's heart sank, the light of hope dimming. He wanted to see Amaranta again. If she could just live, maybe some of the guilt would go away.
Dumbledore's elderly face stretched into a smile. "But I found a way for her to remember." He held up glass vial, with silvery wisps inside. "Just before she died, I extracted her memories, and put them in here. When she is reborn, we can give them back to her, if she wants."
Harry beamed. "Yes! Yes! We'll bring her back, and it'll be like she never died! Hurry! Let's plant her!"
Harry wanted to laugh at his last statement. Such an awkward thing to say.
"I'm not sure if Voldermort knows that she can be replanted," Dumbledore said. "He may still be after her. With your permission, I'd like to keep her here, where she will be safe."
"Yeah, that's a good idea," Harry said, thinking. "But where will you put her?"
"Oh, I think the Whomping Willow will protect one of its own," Dumbledore said. "She will grow to be quite large, so I can't put her in a pot and keep her in my office. Did you know that the Whomping Willow was created by a Blommarian? Yes, there's a tragic story behind it all. You should ask Miss Granger to look it up for you sometime."
Harry stared at the smoke rising into the clouds. Half the people that went to Amaranta's cremation didn't even know her. Since it got them out of class, he was sure all the kids were eager to go and mourn for their fellow student. He turned to see Hermoine running towards him, a battered book clutched tightly against her chest. He sat up in his chair by the window in the Gryffindor common room.
"I. . .found the book. . .story you wanted. . .in this book," Hermoine spoke between breaths as she pulled up a chair next to him and Ron.
"You mean the one about the Whomping Willow?" Ron asked, as he eyed the bruised book.
"Yes," Hermoine said as she began leafing through the fragile pages. "It's not a popular story. It was hard to find. I wonder why no one would care about the history of the Whomping Willow and this school's past! Ah! Here it is, the Legend of the Tree Whisperer." They all crowded around together as Hermoine read aloud.
"Back when Hogwarts was still young, in the term of the third Headmaster, Fredrick Hopperhagen, there was a student, a young girl with dazzling blonde hair and piercing green eyes who attended the school. She came from a respectable wizarding family and was a wonderful student who superseded in all of her classes. However, this girl would be one of the few to result in one of the darkest times in Hogwarts history."
Hermoine glanced sideways at Harry, and then continued to read. "This girl's name was Dianthe Greene, meaning 'Flower of the Gods.' She had an amazing ability, which she kept secret from others, even her family. She could control the plants around her, bending them to her will, making them grow with merely her thoughts. She is believed to be the first Tree Whisperer. Although this power seemed harmless at first, it could be used for murder.
"Dianthe only used her power to improve the plant life around Hogwarts, in the beginning. The fields were green, even in the winter, and the wild flowers spread everywhere. Hogwarts experienced an eternal spring for five years, until she met another girl with a green thumb, Amaranta."
"What?" Ron exclaimed. "Amaranta? But how-?"
"It could be anyone else," Harry said. "Read on, Hermoine."
"Amaranta's acquisition of the powers are as mysterious as Dianthe's, but everything changed when these two Tree Whisperers met. Amaranta, unlike Dianthe, was a delinquent and often skipped classes. Dianthe soon discovered that Amaranta skipped classes to go to the Forbidden Forest. Amaranta invited Dianthe, one day in April, to her secret spot in which she disappeared during class. It is believed that Amaranta showed Dianthe a portal to another realm, where the Tree Whisperers came from, thought this portal has not been found.
"Amaranta weaved lies in front of Dianthe, telling her that the world was dying and they were sent from another world to rescue this one. She told Dianthe that together, they must use their powers to construct a giant tree that would supply the world with life. Amaranta told Dianthe that the tree would solve all the problems of the world. However, Amaranta was truly asking Dianthe to create a giant weed that would suck the nutrients from the world. They worked together, and with their powers, they twisted a tree from the Forbidden Forest and created the Giant Tree that would suck the nutrients from the world.
"This giant parasite in all actuality, bore fruit. Amaranta believed that if it had enough life energy, the Giant Tree could create a fruit that would grant the one who eats it unimaginable power. After the tree grew to an unimaginable size, Hogwarts had lost its spring and turned into an eternal winter. The Giant Tree sucked the warmth from the earth, along with its life, leaving it barren and people dying.
"But once Dianthe realized what they had done, she immediately asked for Amaranta to destroy the tree and return the world to the way it was. Amaranta refused, and they began the greatest, and only known dual of Tree Whisperers. No witnesses are alive to tell of the outcome of the battle, but during their fight, they destroyed the Giant Tree, and life was restored to the world. However, in her dying acts, Amaranta clung to a tree by the lake, and cursed the world, putting her cursed soul into the tree, which now thrashes and attacks anyone it can get close to. Nicknamed the Whomping Willow, it is believed to be possessed by Amaranta's dying spirit, whom pledge to seek revenge on the world.
"Dianthe Greene and Amaranta were never seen after that fateful day, but Dianthe Greene will always be remembered as a hero who saved the entire world from becoming a barren wasteland, and the line of Tree Whispers is believed to have ended with their deaths."
The kids all looked at each other after Hermoine finished reading.
"So that's how the Whomping Willow came to be," Hermoine breathed. "You don't possibly think. . .?"
"That this was Amaranta in a past life?" Harry finished her question. "No, absolutely not. It could've been her parents or even her grandparents. Even a plant can't live that long. Besides, she even said she was only five years old, not five hundred."
"It's just. . .she has such an unusual name, and the coincidence of another person having the same name is so unlikely. . .Maybe Dumbledore thinks so too, which is why he asked you to check out the story. Maybe he believes that it's her."
"I seriously doubt that," Harry frowned. "Besides, even if it was her, she won't remember it when she is reborn."
"Yeah, Hermoine," Ron nodded his head. "I mean, do you seriously think that our Amaranta could possibly even try to do something like that?"
"Well, no, she doesn't seem to be that kind of person," Hermoine said. "It's not like I'm saying she's a bad person. . .I was just. . .curious. . ."
"Well, Curiosity killed the cat," Ron lectured her, shaking his finger at her. "I'm getting kind of hungry. Anyone wanna go see if we can find something to eat?"
"Sure," Harry said as he stood, following Ron out the door, but then Hermoine grabbed his arm, pulling him back. "What?"
"Have you told Draco yet?" Hermoine whispered to him.
Harry's face became hard. "Yeah."
"How'd he take it?"
"Let's say Voldermort is the least of my worries, now. I think I better sleep with one eye open from now on."
"Well, did you tell him that she's going to be born again?"
"Didn't exactly get to that part," Harry said with a scowl. "He was too busy shooting curses at me to listen to what I was saying. I think I actually heard him shout the Killing Curse once."
Hermoine smiled bitterly. "You did the right thing in telling him, though you have to make sure he knows that she'll regrow. Imagine going a whole summer thinking she's dead. . .he just might go insane."
"Who cares?" Harry growled as he turned to walk out the door. "He'll figure it out when he sees her next year."
"Harry!"
"You can't actually be pitying him? He's a prick, Hermoine!"
"But he likes her! Imagine if Sirius were actually alive, and no one told you until you saw him walking in Hogwarts next year! How would you feel?"
"Fine, fine, I get your point," Harry grumbled. "I'll tell him tomorrow or something."
"Harry."
"What?" he turned around, and poked his head through the doorway.
"I looked up what 'Amaranta' means," Hermoine smiled warmly. "The flower that never fades."
Harry smirked, something about that just seemed ironic. It made him chuckle. "I wonder what my name means."
"Probably hot-headed," Hermoine teased, and then she walked out the door.
END PART ONE