Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any other well known anime/franchise etc.
Chapter 5: Heartbeat
6/23/1996 - Sunday
Harry groaned, shifting in bed. The ruthless headache from before was gone, replaced instead with heavy fatigue. As he turned over again to fall back asleep, a chance peek through lidded eyes revealed the face of Mai smiling happily at him.
"Ah, ga'night Mai," he mumbled and settled into his pillow.
She giggled to herself and mentally counted, 'One, two, three' and Harry jerked up and away from her with a shout. Mai laughed as he tumbled over, "Good-evening Harry! Glad to see you're finally awake!"
He grumbled in protest and pulled himself up, "Don't you mean good-morning?"
"Nope! Good-evening it is, being nearly 5 o'clock!" Her voice grew soft, "It's been over two days since you went under. A few people stopped by, Pomfrey and McGonagall, but you've been unresponsive till now. Hermione was here too and she couldn't get in but Merlin did she try."
The haze of waking up dissipated, "I was out that long? I guess I should," he paused, staring at Mai curiously. "What happened to your hair?"
Mai's hair changed, scarily so Harry noted, to look like Hermione's own curly and messy brown locks. It was definitely not the strange and alternating shades like before. Her appearance still seemed to be as he remembered despite this change, but it was unnerving to see a combination of Luna and Hermione in one.
"Oh, this?" she asked while running her fingers through a few strands. "Hermione and I used a bit of magic together so we," and she trailed off at the anger erupting from his eyes.
"Why!? What did you do!?"
Mai jerked back as if slapped, "What do you mean?"
"You made a right proper fool of me the other day! What were you thinking, putting me at the Head Table like that!" He started to move around the bed, "Not only do you have access to my mind, you can just read my thoughts whenever it suits your fancy like a ruddy book from the library! I'm not something you can just check out and read on a whim!"
He was shouting and Mai backed away. She struggled against the sting of tears and thought frantically for a way to quell his anger. 'Was Luna wrong? Did he hate it so much? What can I do, how do I' and Harry's eyes started to change color.
"Why did you drag Hermione into this? She's my best friend, my closest friend and now she's in this mess too!" Harry stopped a foot or so away from her, panting as if he just ran a marathon. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to try and calm down. As they opened, Mai felt an icy hand wrap around her neck: one was forest green, the other demon red.
'Hello Potter…'
Pain.
Harry staggered back and sucked in a breath, sinking to his knees. Mai took the few steps necessary to be by his side and bent down with him. The moment she tried to touch his shoulder, a cry of agony escaped her lips and she pulled away. As Harry moaned, Mai glanced at her hands and her fear grew; it was scorched black and she couldn't recall ever being harmed by the physical world.
'It was simply too tempting, you see,' purred Voldemort and Mai trembled at his voice.
'By the gods, I can hear him!'
'Such exquisite rage… I just had to have a taste and I must say I am very impressed. There is hope for you yet.'
Harry managed to prop himself up and Mai could see his scar. Raised and dark against the skin around it, the lightning bolt oozed a black liquid and his red eye just below it was crying blood.
'I couldn't believe the stories I've heard, Harry. Word has reached me that you are the Headmaster of Hogwarts!' The laughter was chilling, 'You surprise me child, for once the rumors are true.'
Mai growled, "You better believe they are!" Harry managed to look at her when Mia's eyes began to glow and her body became luminescent. "Get out!" she screeched and Harry grabbed his head, feeling like a bludger just grazed it.
'Who dares!'roared Voldemort and Harry howled, his scar trying to cleave him in two.
"Out!" cried Mai as magic rumbled around them. "You are not welcome here!"
Harry struggled to see Mai's face scrunched in concentration and he felt the Dark Lord's presence get pushed back before retaliating.
Voldemort chuckled, 'You who fights on his behalf; do you not know what you risk?'
Harry cried out again in agony and started to thrash.
"Don't listen to him!" he heard from Mai. "This is your head! Your mind! I can't force him out on my own! Help me!"
The Dark Lord's presence was pushed back again and this time, Harry started pushing along with her.
'Interesting,' he hissed before the pain redoubled but the presence felt further away.
"Come on Harry!" she called and Voldemort's presence faltered again. With a mighty heave, Harry gave everything he had.
'Yes, curious,'he laughed. 'The skirmish is yours Harry, but the war will be mine...'
The pain finally gave way and Voldemort's presence receded.
Spots danced in his vision as Harry gasped for breath. This was by far the harshest encounter he could remember and it marked the first time Voldemort had been drawn into Harry's mind and not the other-way-round.
As sight returned, he drunkenly looked over to where Mai had been and froze. She was no longer ghost like in appearance but almost completely invisible, like she was trying to disappear but couldn't.
"Mai!" and he scrambled to his feet. His stomach heaved but he forced it back while hobbling over to her. He tried to touch her and was shocked further to find he could feel her to some degree. It wasn't the icy sensation he experienced when Myrtle 'accidentally' touched him, but slightly warm.
"Sodding hell, I'm so sorry Mai! I don't know what came over me! I'm been so angry lately, I'm sorry!"
She chuckled weakly, "It's all right, Harry."
Mai weakly touched his forehead, causing his eyes to snap open. His mind was flooded by a cooling sensation, dousing the fire left behind in Voldemort's wake.
"Better?"
He looked at her in disbelief, "You did that?"
She smiled to him, "I told you I would help you."
His expression softened, "Is there anything I can do?"
She was barely able to shake her head, "No, but it's alright. All I need is a… little… rest." As the outline of her eyes closed, the rest of her body faded away.
Still reeling from Voldemort's actions, he got up and wandered around his new living space. There was a private bathroom with a large shower, a kitchen of sorts, a general meeting room for guests and another private study in addition to his public office.
'Mai said McGonagall and Pomfrey stopped by. Hermione too?' He proceeded back into his bedroom. 'Where would Hermione be? I should probably find McGonagall as well, first even. I need to know what's happened while I was out.'
At some point during the last few days, his belongings were moved in with him. After fetching some new clothes, he made his way to the shower, marveling at how in the past, whenever a vision came to him it usually meant a cold sweat for hours after and little sleep. This time the lingering effects of something much worse were reduced to a mild headache and a little more fatigue than what he already felt.
Harry smiled.
Meaning to or not, Mai gained a sizable amount of respect and a little of the trust she was secretly so desperate to have. Harry was oblivious, for his thoughts settled on a much larger problem.
'How did Voldemort get in and why couldn't I force him out?'
XX
Minerva McGonagall sighed deeply as she slumped into her office chair.
The last two days were hell.
Backlash from the Governors' unannounced visit became an unexpected challenge. Everyone seemed to ask for the reasons behind it, making things difficult on Minerva's part to stall for time. The reporters were like locusts and in their persistence to dig up whatever they could, it was unearthed Harry was out of commission.
The 'professionalism' of said pests took things from there and the rumors quickly spread. On top of this mess were student exams and their temperament on Harry's absence.
She glanced tiredly at her desk, deciding the clutter would be a useful distraction and set about organizing. A majority of the papers were excerpts from the Daily Prophet, while biased and horrendously one sided on the best of days, it did offer an indication of sorts to how the public was taking the news. The more sensational the paper, the harder the Ministry was trying to rouse interest and emotion. For this reason, Minerva used them to keep a careful eye on the public's reactions to the comings and goings of Hogwarts.
"Ah, I wondered where the draft exam for my fifth years got to," she hummed while pulling it from in between some sheets and sorting it into her desk. As she finger the papesr looking for more exams, her eyes scanned over a few of the articles.
The Ministry report on the break-in was as expected: a cover-up with a lot of 'hushing' worked into the print. 'No doubt Fudge's pockets must be feeling lighter than usual,' although she was concerned for other reasons. Albus may have been declared missing, but it was obvious he wasn't too far away.
A brief report had been sent to her through the Order's relay system, a means of communication devised by Albus should anything happen to them. Their mole in the Auror Department passed along what information had been available at the time. While a far cry from detailed, it did provide some crucial information, such as Umbridge's involvement and what Voldemort was after. A prophecy from the sound of it, but it didn't mention anything further.
She quivered in anger on how a Dark Lord supporter, an unmarked Death Eater at that, had been right under their noses. If it hadn't been for a small sliver of parchment which fell out of the debrief packet, she likely would have destroyed something.
'A phoenix must burn every four years and it shall always return, sometimes stronger than before.'
The phrase vexed her for a short time. The event was known as a phoenix's 'burning' period and was common knowledge despite the rarity of such a creature. Uncommon however was the added strength and very few wizards in existence could offer any real evidence to the matter. Facts aside, the point of her confusion centered on the handwriting itself.
The missive was penned by Albus, of that Minerva was sure.
She groaned, shaking her head free of random thoughts. 'Surely, we would have been called together if anything significant changed. Then again,' and her mind swayed to Harry, the Headmaster who assumed said position under her watchful gaze. She smiled, "It will definitely take some getting used to."
Unfortunately, her pleasantness faded as she scanned over the scathing remarks on Albus. The headlines didn't paint the previous Headmaster in a good light, due to supposed 'questionable activities' and the organization she knew Harry had been running, 'Dumbledore's Army.' One passage in particular was bothersome:
'An emergency session of the Wizengamot will be held at 8 o'clock, this Thursday morning to determine the current status of its Chief Warlock. Ownership of additional titles shall also be reviewed.'
Not once in the Wizarding Government's history had there ever been a session without its head. This was a strange turn of events and it certainly didn't make matters any better for Albus. Without his presence they could theoretically do anything. She grumbled and turned over the remaining pages, frowning deeper as she rescanned their content.
Harry had been referenced in a supportive manner by other prominent Wizengamot members, which was no surprise. For the sake of appearances, someone had to look like they supported him but Minerva was fairly certain Harry would have few backers from inside the Ministry. The announcement of his examinations hinted at the truth.
'Severus Snape, resident Potions Master of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry has challenged the credentials of the newly appointed Headmaster, Harry Potter. This reporter has confirmed from five members of the Board of Governors that Headmaster Potter has accepted the challenge without strife and has emphasized his willingness to partake in the required examinations. Said tests will be performed on this coming Thursday, promptly at 1 o'clock on the Quidditch Pitch of the school grounds. The event is open to the public and all are encouraged to attend.'
Hogwarts was known for keeping internal affairs out of the limelight so someone purposely spilled the beans, likely a member from the Board looking to gain a few extra galleons. While disappointing, it didn't overshadow the more startling decision made by the Wizengamot and therefore, the indicator of their intentions towards Harry.
An event of this magnitude would demand most, if not all, of the major players in the Ministry to be in attendance. The event itself was incredibly rare, happening only once in Hogwarts' existence if Minerva remembered correctly. Being a public gathering would make this particular event a first occurrence in the school's history.
'Why then would the Wizengamot schedule an emergency session on the same day as the Headmaster's evaluation? Why wait so long and risk missing it?'
It had taken Minerva a day or two to piece it all together and to her credit, she did have other things to attend to. When she realized the full extent of the Ministry's gambit, Minerva nearly lost it.
The results of the Wizengamot's proceedings concerning Albus could potentially go either way. For that reason, they placed a buffer between their meeting and Harry's exam because they didn't know exactly how to turn the public to their favor.
So they did what any government would do and stalled for time, gathering more insight in how best to influence the public to their way of thinking. If Harry failed in any way and they timed it right, the whole situation could be turned into a smear campaign, incriminating Harry for looking to showboat and for Albus due to his continued absence.
Minerva felt tired again, holding up the last couple of pages to sort away. This particular paper dealt exclusively with Harry's evaluations and the article was substantial. Minerva folded it and was about to put it away when a knock sounded on her door.
She set it aside, holding it and the others for when Harry finally came to. 'He'd want to see these,' she thought while quickly straightening herself up, "Enter!"
To her surprise and delight, Harry walked slowly into the room, his expression of fatigue like her own. "Good evening, Professor."
The relief in her voice was obvious, "Are you alright, Harry? It's wonderful to see you up again and it's Minerva, remember."
He smiled faintly and managed to find his way to a chair which he more or less fell into, "I'm better, exhausted, but better. How are you?"
"Quite tired myself though a sight better better than you from what I can see."
Harry was startled by her jest and laughed, feeling a little better for doing so. "I do feel a little out of place. Just how long have I been out anyway?"
Her smile fell slightly, "Almost two and a half days by my count."
Harry whistled, 'Mai was spot on,' "Well, I must have missed a thing or two during my nap. Mind filling me in?"
She quirked an eyebrow and pushed a stack of papers at him, "You might want to read those when you get the chance. Otherwise you missed a lot of reporters, gossip from the students and the announcement for your examinations which will be held this coming Thursday at 1 o'clock on the Pitch."
Harry frowned as he scanned the papers, "Mmm" he mumbled, not liking the initial glance. He folded them up and set them down, "Those aside, what can you tell me about the tests? Do you know what it is I'll have to do?"
Minerva relaxed into her chair, "You must demonstrate your ability to control the wards of Hogwarts. This will show the castle has fully recognized you and truthfully that's all you really need to do."
"Right and how does Snape play into all this?"
Her expression darkened, "As the challenger, he is allowed to set up the examination as he sees fit. Up to three additional topics may be chosen for breadth of subject mastery and their order is entirely up to him. Regardless of your performance from the three custom examinations, you will at some point be asked to demonstrate your control over the wards."
Harry nodded, taking in the information. "Assuming I botch the preliminaries?"
Minerva shook her head sadly, "Knowing Severus as I do, he will save the ward test for last and you'll have no choice but to perform the exercises he established. The better you do the more confidence you will instill in the spectators and ultimately the more evidence to support your selection. Should you fail all three then regardless of the wards activation or not, it's likely the Ministry will come down hard on the Board. While I don't think they could do anything, both parties may try to remove you. How the castle will respond to that is anyone's guess."
They sat in silence as the young Headmaster thought on the issues before he sighed. "Frustrating as it is, I still have three full days to devote to it so I suppose I'll start panicking later. My immediate concern is what tomorrow will bring. Surely there's something I have to do or say in front of the students to accept my position formally?"
The witch nodded, "You must address everyone and state your purpose or credo as it were. The chair you sat in Friday morning would have reacted negatively to your presence had you not been the true Headmaster so I know the castle has already accepted you." She shifted in her seat, "Beyond that, it's a matter of asserting your authority with the students and professors. I haven't checked the records, but I feel confident in saying you are the youngest Headmaster Hogwarts has ever seen."
Harry paused for a moment before replying softly, "I'm a bit nervous about all this. I hope I have some chance at being a decent Headmaster and not look like a complete idiot."
Minerva just started laughing. "Oh, believe me Harry; the official duties are well within your capabilities, most of them anyway."
He tilted his head in a questioning manner, "What makes you so sure?"
"First and foremost the Headmaster is tasked with protecting the students should a threat assert itself. You are the only one who can draw from the castle's magical reserves and use it as you see fit. Along with managing the wards and perimeter defenses, you are expected to be the first into battle and hopefully the last."
Harry was stunned, "Really? I don't need a specific score on my O.W.L.S. or N.E.W.T.S? Nothing like that?"
She smirked at him, "Surprising isn't it? The reasoning comes from the old days, when wizards and witches respected one another more on practical skill than just your book knowledge or theoretical understanding. Wealth and even family had little to no effect as the past held dangers for any witch or wizard thus protection was paramount."
"What other duties are expected of me?"
"The Headmaster settles disputes and acts as disciplinarian when serious matters must be dealt with. In addition you will act as a liaison between the school and visiting dignitaries."
Harry nodded along, remembering Dumbledore doing exactly that during the Triwizard tournament.
"You must also approve new staffing, although as your Deputy I may overrule you if there is sufficient evidence for my claims. It would occur should you not properly judge any potential candidates but usually said individuals are examined by current faculty and your staff will give you insight and input for the decision. For that reason, intervention is rarely needed."
She paused briefly to gauge his reaction, "The last major duty is not often called upon. Should circumstances dictate, you must substitute for a professor if someone else is not able to teach for the time being. In all honestly, this is the only questionable aspect I see of this arrangement."
Harry blinked several times, "Apart from the teaching, it doesn't sound too bad."
She laughed again, "There are many details yet to be discussed with your responsibilities and there are a few other things but for the most part, yes that is it. Albus was not only a Headmaster but Chief Warlock while carrying other titles. He was always busy due to the many responsibilities he had but traditionally, you are simply the overseer of the school; one that everyone will look to for guidance and fall behind should trouble arise. As I said before Harry, this is within your capacity. I do not believe Hogwarts would have chosen you otherwise."
The young Headmaster stayed silent while contemplating and Minerva watched him in amusement, 'I won't bother him with the tidbit now, but with things as they are, the school will be in the best position to return to its roots should he choose.'
A yawn from Harry brought her out of her musings as she smirked at him, "Too much already, Headmaster? You've not even begun."
Harry smiled back in jest, "Not at all my Deputy, merely tired from what I assume was the castle keying me into the wards." He didn't want to lie but there was something nagging at him to stay quiet on his recent bout with the Dark Lord. "I'm actually quite hungry and was just on my way to the Great Hall and thought I would stop by to check in. Since I'm heading that way, would you like to grab some dinner?"
"While I'd be delighted to, I've already eaten but thank you Harry. You may wish to visit some of your friends and do so before tomorrow as I'm not sure how often you will be able to interact with them in the future."
Harry frowned but agreed, "I figured as much and I will try to at any rate. Oh, and Profe… I mean, Minerva, did you happen to see Hermione today?"
She blinked, not expecting the question, "I have. She was at lunch, although only briefly. There isn't a problem, is there?"
Harry frowned, 'Where are you, Hermione? He didn't show his annoyance though, "No, I was just wondering. Thank you Minerva, for all your help."
"My pleasure Harry," and she bid him goodnight as he left.
XX
Harry's stomach growled, his footsteps bringing him ever closer to the Great Hall and a much overdue meal. His objective would be delayed though, as Dobby popped into existence and threw himself into a stolen hug.
"It's very good to see you up and about, Master Harry Potter! We were getting most worried about you!"
Harry smiled gratefully, "Thank you Dobby, I appreciate your concern. If you'd excuse me though, I need to get to the Great Hall and then find Hermione."
"Oh not yet, Master Headmaster, not yet! There is business to be tended in the Kitchens. That's why I'm here, to fetch you Sir."
His lips drew into a line, not quite a grimace but not a frown either. "Is everything alright, Dobby?"
The elf let go and started leading Harry to the kitchen entrance, "As right as everything can be, Master Harry. There are introductions to be had and directions to be given."
Harry sighed, "But Dobby, I really must," and he paused when his stomach growled loudly.
The elf chuckled merrily, "I do understand Master Harry, on both counts to be sure. There's food ready for you Sir and no worry need be spared for Master's Grangy. She's quite busy in the Library and does not wish to be disturbed." Dobby shuddered and tugged fearfully at his ears, "Dobby learned this the hard way, he did."
Harry couldn't help but laugh, "Duly noted, Dobby. Well, carry on then. If Hermione's in a mood best find her last."
In the remaining time before they reached the portrait of fruit, Dobby spoke of Head Elf Snippy, the leader of the House Elves of Hogwarts and a champion of the Bondless.
Snippy, unlike many House Elves, wasn't bonded to a Master but to Hogwarts herself. Harry was surprised to learn it was this Head Elf whom Dobby looked most to for guidance and inspiration in seeking his own freedom. House Elves weren't traditionally bound, like many non-elf owners believed. The bond between Master and Elf was life changing for the elf yes, but not life sustaining. When Harry questioned why abused elves didn't break their bond and become free, Dobby grimaced.
"While it doesn't sustain us, it is a significant part of our lives. To live long without a bond is very uncomfortable. The Masters know this and use our Oaths of allegiance to their advantage."
"Meaning it can't be broken without a token willingly given..."
Dobby smiled sadly, "Master Harry understands."
"Dobby," Harry said, realizing something. "Are you bonded to me?"
The little elf looked sheepish for a moment before shaking his head, "No, Master Harry. I am bound to Lady Hogwarts though I am honored you would think of me so."
Harry scratched the back of his head in embarrassment, "Sorry Dobby, I didn't mean to presume. You always call me Master and if I'm not, then why don't you just call me Harry?"
The duo rounded a bend, coming up to the portrait.
"Another little known fact of House-Elves, although probably best to say unknown since Masters are tricksy in their bindings; we House Elves will happily call those whom we respect 'Master,' for a House Elf has no greater need than to satisfy his or her Master. To call a non-master 'Master' is an honor in the eyes of us elves."
Harry was genuinely surprised and absent mindedly tickled the pear. As they walked into the kitchen, Harry came to a sudden stop, amazed at the sight before his eyes.
Standing in the center of a small raised platform and with numerous elves running every which way could be no one other than the Head Elf. Snippy directed the bustling activity with the finesse of a symphony conductor, his arms and hands waving back and forth with the motions of the elves. As they flashed by, he inspected platters of food, critiquing their arrangement and cooking by offering praises and criticism in equal measure.
"Snippy's been here the longest and has performed every job that could possibly be done inside Hogwarts."
Harry blinked in surprise. For being the oldest of the elves he looked no older than Dobby. As the two approached the platform Snippy barked out quick commands in a language Harry didn't understand. The result was a chirping of sounds from all the elves and then Snippy hopped down and rushed over to him.
"Greetings Headmaster, I am Snippy the Head Elf," the elf bowed low as he introduced himself. "Please follow me and I shall give you a tour of the Kitchens."
Before Harry could respond, Snippy and Dobby escorted him around and began the tour. It bothered the Headmaster to realize it, but despite many ventures into this very room, he had never truly explored it as he did now. Harry had no idea the kitchens held several specially sealed rooms with elvish cooling charms where mounds of food were kept inside. He never knew the silverware and goblets, plates and other assorted dishes were conjured by elf magic. Not a thing on the tables, save the food itself, had been made the old fashioned way. Perhaps the most stunning revelation was not a scrap of food went unused, even the leftovers from the plates was recycled somehow: if not in a stew or if too badly mutilated by messy eaters, the food was ground up and sent to Professor Sprout or Hagrid as fertilizer.
At one point, Harry had to stop and marvel at what was going on around him. The entire kitchen was almost completely self-sustaining and it further surprised him he never really thought about it before. How did the food even get here in the first place?
It was just another question he wouldn't get the opportunity to ask for dozens of pops met his ears and he was surrounded by house elves.
Snippy, who stood beside him with Dobby announced proudly to the assembly, "My family! To you I present, Headmaster Harry Potter!"
The roar of approval made his head ring and before he could try to calm them, Snippy raised his hand and they were silent.
"Do you accept us, Headmaster Potter? Do you approve of our work?"
Harry blinked.
The idea was absurd; after all he'd seen, why wouldn't he, let alone anyone not appreciate them?
He gazed around the room, looking at many hopeful eyes, all yearning for approval and acceptance and in this Harry began to realize what he saw. The elves truly believed this to be their life's work, their one true calling. They poured so much effort, so much time and magic into these tasks that their jobs defined who they were. One elf had a flour sack as a covering, a mark that he was likely a baker. Another wore a necklace of forks, quite possibly a cook or maybe a preparer. Simple things wizards and witches would have laughed at or ridiculed but to the elves, they wore them as badges of honor. He would later marvel at how unfair it was and maybe he understood Hermione's cause a little better if this was how she saw them.
He had to say something. He had to make them realize they were appreciated.
"Your work now and in the future shall always be a great service to this school. Without your efforts I have little doubt we would be able to function even remotely as we do now. I feel I owe you an apology, for I can think of nothing more to give but my thanks and continued belief that you will stop at nothing to see Hogwarts have the best food, the cleanest sheets and the greatest castle this world will ever know. Thank you, each of you, for everything."
He was expecting cries of joy, given his past experiences with Dobby, but what he got instead was a blinding headache and whispers of names. He cringed, screwing his eyes shut.
'Jumpy, Lance, Madrick, Sipper, Tunz, Jasper, June.'
They marched to a beat, rhythmic and with a face of an elf to go with each name. The pain he felt grew as dozens of faces blurred together and just when Harry thought his head my split open, it stopped.
"Master Harry Potter?" spoke Dobby softly, shaking his arm gently. Harry came to, sitting at a table in the kitchen. His head previously lie next to an empty plate with clear indications it had been full not long ago. He looked around, confused since he didn't recall sitting down and eating.
'What happened? Where did all the elves go?'
"Master Harry," Dobby said quietly, an understanding look on his face. "The Mistress wishes to see you. She's waiting in the Come and Go Room."
The elf smiled and turned away, leaving Harry to stare at his retreating form for a few seconds before getting up and leaving. The trip to the seventh floor was done quickly, but in a daze. Not only did he have more questions than answers, but somehow two hours had gone by in the process.
"What in the world is happening to me?" he asked aloud and no sooner found himself standing opposite of Barnabas the Barmy.
Harry paused. The door to the room was still visible, meaning this 'Mistress' just arrived or was willing the portal to remain. He prepared himself, not certain as to what he might find and opened it. No sooner in doing so something wrapped around his waist and he was tugged inside, stumbling through the door. It closed with a click, the door locking itself and that was when the lights turned on.
What the room changed into was something Harry had never seen before throughout all of Hogwarts. It was in the shape of a massive hexagon with a magnificent golden chandelier hanging in the center. Several feet before him the floor fell to stairs, only six or seven steps, to a lower floor.
From the bottom of each wall, ran carpet with the color of a House in a triangle shape coming together at the center of the room. The remaining sections were silver, originating along a wall that had nothing on it and from where he stood. Aside from those two locations, everything else was decorated in a theme from one of the Houses, culminating with that House's Founder in a portrait on the corresponding wall.
'The images aren't moving,' he wondered, eyeing the portraits. The four of them looked over the room with carefully guarded expressions, surveying everything inside. Hundreds of doorframes stood upright everywhere and each of them were a different color and texture, right down to the door knob and hinges.
"What is this place?" he asked and started making his way over to the unoccupied wall. "There are easily hundreds of them, probably as many doors as there are in…" Harry's eyes widened, "No way..."
He approached one of the doors which had a grainy look to it. If he didn't know any better, he'd swear it was to a store room. Without bothering to rap the door out of courtesy, he opened it.
"Don't cha know how to bloody knock!" growled Filch who started to turn around from his location at a filing cabinet to glare at the intruder to his 'office.'
Harry didn't let him get a quarter of the way round before slamming the door shut. He would never know, but Filch quickly ran to the door and opened it, ready to scream bloody murder to the one who disturbed him and without even properly doing so. Instead, the caretaker floundered like a fish only to shut his mouth in embarrassment as Professor Sprout gave him a curious look from outside his office on the ground floor.
"It's a room of doors to every room in Hogwarts!" Harry exclaimed, clearly stunned but quite happy with the find. He surveyed the doors closest to him, wondering where they might lead when he came across one door that was different.
It was severely aged, burnt and completely covered in dust. On it was an ornamental handle made of cast iron with the beginnings of rust starting to show. The forged image of a hideous beast adorned the bust where several heads could be seen coming out of it: that of a lion, a snake, an eagle and a ram.
Harry's vision blurred and all his focus was turned to the door and the creatures on the handle. He reached for it but the same force that pulled him inside the room acted again, calling him away. He resisted at first, wanting to grasp the handle but eventually gave in and moved in the force's direction: the empty wall on the opposite side of the room's entrance. Harry shook his head turning back to glance at the door and his eyes widened.
It was gone.
The tug released its hold and Harry quickly discovered a majority of the doors were spaced too close together for him to slip through and the room, while useful, was more along the lines of a gigantic maze.
'Bugger,' he groaned. 'Another dead end. This is worse than the Third Task.'
It had taken many more wrong turns and almost an hour later but Harry was finally able to breathe a sigh of relief upon reaching the barren wall. As he ascended the few stairs up to it, he glanced in the direction of the portraits. Unlike the walls dedicated to a House, this one was barren, comprised of nothing other than the black stones that made it up. Absentmindedly, he reached out to touch them.
Fingers just barely grazed the surface, but when they did, the air left his lungs.
Magic flowed around him like a river; each gushing surge of power pushing him below the surface, suffocating him. He was so surprised by the feeling Harry backpedaled and gasped loudly, nearly losing his feet. The magic which had so completely surrounded him left and he felt winded.
'What... was that?'
To feel such dense magic and have it taken away so suddenly left him with an unsettling desire to be submerged again. In the back of his mind a small voice of reason screamed at him this could be Dark, but he ignored it. His gut told him there was something here, something that needed to be found. Or maybe, it was the other way round. Maybe he was the one being found?
Harry held up both hands now and placed them just inches away from the black stones and hissed as sparks shot between his fingers and the wall. His magic started to churn and he felt himself drawn further into this whirlpool. It was intoxicating, so much raw power his eyes glazed over and he pushed closer. Inches became miles but it didn't matter. Every centimeter gained only added to the feeling of euphoria.
His fingers started to numb and tiny pinpricks of pain shot up and down his arms. A moment or so later, a rather nasty prick hit his fingers all at once, jostling him out of his stupor and that's when he heard it.
Hogwarts came alive, hundreds upon thousands of voices murmuring to him, each trying to speak at once. His ears rattled, not from the loudness but the sheer multitude of sounds. Emotions flitted past his consciousness, feelings of happiness and joy, sorrow and fear. Just as he was about to touch the stones again, all voices and feelings coalesced into a single entity. A barrier of some kind prohibited him from touching the wall completely and Harry froze as he felt that entity come to settle just above his fingertips.
'Be wary, young one. While you will find no danger here, less can be said for other places of the world.'
He dare not believe it, "Hogwarts?" he whispered.
'I am, Headmaster.'
Harry was blown away. "Where am I?"
'Only four others ever set foot in this place and whose portraits hang before you. They never formally named it, but they always referred to it as the 'Archway.'
"The Founders," he marveled and took one hand away in order to look around. As he looked to their portraits a shiver ran down his spine. Their eyes focused on him and Gryffindor seemed to be smirking. Harry turned quickly around.
"Why am I here? How?"
'I called and you answered; such is our way. You are here because you need to be.'
Harry frowned. She had called him through Dobby so did that mean Hogwarts could speak to the elves? 'Why didn't she just say that? Why couldn't she ask me to the room herself?' One question lead to another and eventually, the ones bothering him the most.
"Why have you chosen me? Why have I been acting so strange? Why is all this happening?" Harry had noticed his sudden oddities and the feelings they brought with them. The changes were happening so quickly, so abruptly that he couldn't help but notice. He had wanted to ask those questions for hours, but there really wasn't anyone who could answer them, let alone understand.
The castle actually chuckled at him and he could swear he felt the laugh reverberate through the floor.
'Not I, but you that have chosen me. In the moment that mattered most, you called and I answered. Such is our way.'
"But I, I don't remember saying anything!"
'You didn't have to. Your magic spoke to me in your stead. It knew what needed to be done.'
Harry snarled, "So this was all just destiny?" He hated being manipulated.
The being laughed again but not in spite, 'Young one, your magic is you. Do you not trust yourself?'
He placed his forehead against the barrier, "Lately? Not really. What with me acting like Tom there for awhile, I thought I was becoming a part of him. Just a few hours ago we had a little chat and I barely pushed him out of my head."
Harry laughed bitterly once he realized the irony of his situation. To any outsider, he was literally talking to a wall. Then again, this was exactly how he dealt with his emotions back in the cupboard when no one was around to punish him for it.
Maybe it was meant to be this way.
A warm sensation brushed across his cheek, a hand gently caressing. 'You have never been, nor will you ever be a shade of the Dark One. He has interfered too much and our troubles of late are partly his fault.'
"Our troubles?" He shivered as the room grew cold.
'There is an event horizon on approach: a point of no return the Dark One has orchestrated. Machinations of an impure mind stalled our union and would have otherwise hindered you further had your magic not cried out for aid. As a result, you consented to be my caretaker without first knowing the tasks to be done.'
Harry could agree with that. His mind wasn't at its clearest when he made the agreement but it felt right. It had been an instinctive response and to this day he had always followed his gut. "Perhaps," he replied in sudden amusement. "With my luck, it could have been a lot worse."
Silence greeted his ears before thousands of voices laughed with him.
'Indeed it is so, my Daughter was right about you.'
"Daughter?"
'An offspring due to the most unlikeliest of circumstances, yet born just the same. She believes resolutely in you, to the point of blindness.'
Harry felt warm from the praise but insecurities came roaring back, "Why?" he murmured. "Everyone who's believed or gotten close to me has either died or is hunted by Voldemort. What do you want with me?"
Tears stung in his eyes as a year's worth of anger, frustration and depression bore down on him all at once. He slid down to his knees, his hands now balled into fists but still pressed up against the barrier.
"What do you ask of me?" he whispered softly.
The room which had been cold and uncomfortable grew warm again. 'It is not I that ask of you but you that must ask of me. You must address those who will follow you tomorrow, to state your purpose and reason for being. Do you know your reason?'
"My reason, you mean for being Headmaster?" he became frustrated again. "I don't know, I thought you just said my magic chose for me? How am I supposed to know?"
Had Hogwarts possessed a head, Harry could almost see it tilting to the side, looking at him with a playful gaze, 'Your magic is a part of you. It cannot act beyond your own understanding.'
He snorted, "Well I think it did this time. Why would I want to become Headmaster when someone like Professor McGonagall could? She'd do a brilliant job of it or better yet, why not just bring back Dumbledore?"
Silence met him and he realized Hogwarts wouldn't answer; this was something he needed to figure out on his own
'Okay, so let's say I did choose this. Why then?' and he also realized she put it quite well: what was his reason? He thought and debated but Harry couldn't get past the fact others were better than him, that someone else could do a better job.
"There are so many others out there who have more experience, more ability than I do. Again, McGonagall would be a great fit."
Her response was soft, 'True though it may be, why then didn't it stop you before?'
Images flittered past.
Hermione, Ron and he fighting through the professors' defenses of the Sorcerer's Stone; hours spent researching in the library for what could have been terrorizing the students; fighting to save Sirius from execution and risking prison time in order to do so.
Why had he done all those things? The Dursley's never once taught him what it meant to love or to cherish others. Why would he fight so hard and put his life on the line so willingly? What did his magic and the unconscious part of his mind know that his waking self struggled to see?
Neville holding up a bubotuber from fourth year and being the only student excited to see the plant up close. Ginny from this year, with the wind rustling her hair in every direction and the most intense look of concentration on her face as she chased the snitch. Ron in third year, pumping his fist in the air as he beat Harry at yet another game of chess and Dean who was excited and foolish enough to be the new challenger. Luna smiling brightly at him on the train to Hogwarts after being called a friend in her second year. Hermione from just two weeks ago, sitting by the fire in the common room reading one of her favorite books as the red hues danced warmly across her face.
His eyes lit up in understanding, "Is it really that simple?"
The reason he did all those things in the past never changed: it was a part of who he was and he did it to protect his friends. He cherished them, to the point of seeing them as a family and if danger arose or someone threatened them, it was obvious what he would do. Now was no different, except his magic somehow knew of an opportunity, a chance to even the odds.
Voldemort was getting stronger; their earlier bout was proof. If Dumbledore couldn't be Headmaster, then there was no one else who would be as willing as he to stand between Voldemort and the others, not because of some sense of duty but because it was who he was. He lived, breathed, and would die for others, his family; that was his reason.
"My purpose is my friends, my family," he stated firmly. "I do not know how this came to be, but I trust in my magic and my instincts. I chose to be Headmaster because I couldn't stand back and let their lives be put on the line without knowing I was doing something in order to protect them."
'To protect? To be their shield?'
He stood up to give his reply, finding his confidence, "And their sword. I want none of them to have to fight if I can help it, but I want them to know how to do so, should I fail."
There was a moment's hesitation before a soft voice whispered in his ear, 'What then do you ask of me?'
"I need strength and proficiency in magic to protect them and I need knowledge and patience to teach them in case the worst should happen. I ask you to aid me in this, as it is my purpose and I refuse to fail them."
'All those who may dwell?'
Harry strained to hear the words but that didn't stall his reply, "Anyone and all."
The barrier that stood between him and the wall vanished.
With no warning or indication, the cracks between every stone lit up in a forest green light; the same color as Harry's eyes. He gasped as happiness, the shouts from so many voices reached him and like before, the castle's magic surrounded and consumed him. As he struggled to control his breathing and the erratic emotions raging inside, the light of the stones went out.
And then it came back, pulsing like a heartbeat.
Every fiber in his body immediately followed it, the sound of her heart, the feel of her breathing. Harry watched in awe as the light moved liked a wave, traveling away from wherever her heart was and rushing over the entire room from bottom to top and ultimately the entire castle.
'My Headmaster, is this what you choose knowing full well the cost?'
Pain.
Pain unlike anything he ever felt, shot up his arms and gripped him by the shoulders. Harry cried out in response and in his mind's eye, images of the runes that governed and powered the wards appeared. Harry could see the ward stones in which the runes were inscribed and they glowed in tune with the heartbeat.
"I, achhh!" he cried, trying to respond. With each pulse, the pain thrummed in his arms and Harry realized what she meant.
'I am sorry it has come to this but there can be no other way. Is this what you truly desire?'
The images of friends flew past his eyes again and be it now or later, regardless of how little or how much this was going to help him, his answer would always be the same.
"Yes!"
'So be it.'
If his mind whimpered at the things Voldemort tried to do, it cried at what the castle was doing now.
Words from countless voices whispered through his ears and images forced themselves into his consciousness and it hurt from them doing so. He could see students, milling about in the common rooms, working in the library, everything. Snapshots of their faces and names written in gold appeared before his eyes and somehow, he came to know of every student that had been placed under his care.
Harry lost feeling in his arms and seconds of this madness became days. He fell to his knees but not once did he try and remove his connection from the stones.
After a time, Harry became aware of a presence. A barrier was wrapped around him, something that bound and isolated him from the castle. Hogwarts was slowly getting through to him, but the pain was terrible.
Before he felt like a buoy being dragged under the roaring oceans and now it felt as if the magic was forcing itself into him, squeezing through cracks and crevices of whatever it was that separated them.
Harry tried and he held on for as long as he could, but at some point, his mind disconnected from it all and blackness fell over his vision. The body became heavy and he fell away from the wall, breaking the connection and falling completely into darkness.
XX