Chosen - a Harry Potter fanfic
By Anton B. Ingibjartsson, AKA dragonwrath7
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling. I am not JK Rowling.
This story was partly influenced and inspired by the fanfic In The Words Of Ginevra Molly Potter, by TheJealousOne.
THIS STORY CONTAINS HEAVY SPOILERS TO ALL THE HARRY POTTER BOOKS! IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THEM AND DON'T WANT THE EXPERIENCE RUINED FOR YOU, REFRAIN FROM READING FURTHER. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
Chapter Eight: The Guardian
Quirrel raised his hand to cast the final spell, and Harry knew it was all over. He gave in to his pains and let himself slip into unconsciousness, but just as his mind was entering sweet oblivion, another voice sounded throughout the chamber.
"Stupefy!"
The next thing Harry knew, he was lying in a comfortable bed. He could see through his closed eyelids that the room he was in was bright.
Am I dead? Is this heaven?
Fear engulfed him when he thought of another far more horrible option.
Am I back in my world? Am I lying in my own bed at home?
It was a voice that saved him from this terror.
"Is he still out of it?"
Harry calmed down. It was the voice of Ron, who was approaching Harry from the right.
"Yes," replied Hermione's voice from Harry's left side, "he hasn't woken up at all since I came."
"How long've you been here?"
"I came in this morning, about seven o'clock."
"Seven? That was almost nine hours ago. Aren't you hungry?"
"I'm fine," replied Hermione stubbornly. Harry became aware of her hand holding his. It was rather sweaty, as if she hadn't let go at all since she first arrived.
"Look, this isn't good for your health. Harry's gonna be fine."
"I'm not leaving."
"Harry's been like this for days. Madam Pomfrey won't let you stay here overnight unless you get seriously ill."
"I'm staying," she repeated.
Silence, then-
"It's good to have the real you back. The fake Hermione didn't have your..." Ron began, but didn't seem to know how to finish his sentence. Harry could almost hear him blushing. Finally, he settled on "...flare."
For some reason, Hermione's hand suddenly squeezed tighter around Harry's. Before anything else could be said, Harry heard the door to the hospital wing swing open, and someone with loud footsteps made his way to his bed.
"How's he doin'?" whispered Hagrid.
"Madam Pomfrey says he's fine. He just needs some rest."
"I feel awful. If Fluffy was still 'ere, none o' this woulda happened."
"No, Hagrid," said Harry, opening his eyes, "if I hadn't screwed up, Fluffy wouldn't have died."
"Harry!" yelled an ecstatic Hermione. "You're awake!"
"Yeah, I know," he replied, rolling his eyes. "I've actually been awake since Ron asked if I was still 'out of it'."
"And you didn't say anything!" said Ron. He seemed a little less happy to see Harry awake, for some reason.
"Sorry."
"That's all right, Harry," said Hermione, who simply sounded relieved that he was awake.
"As I was saying," said Harry, pulling himself into a sitting position and drawing his hand out of Hermione's grasp, "it's my fault Fluffy's dead. No, don't say anything." Hagrid had just opened his mouth, but closed it again. Harry continued. "I left my mind unprotected in my enemy's presence and Fluffy paid the price. Besides," he added as an afterthought, "even if Fluffy was still here, this whole thing would still have happened. It might have taken him a while, but he would have found some way to get you to reveal Fluffy's weakness. And then there wouldn't even have been a Seal to keep him out."
"But, Harry, the seal didn't keep 'im out," said Hagrid.
"It would have," replied Harry sourly, "if I hadn't been so stupid."
Hermione, Ron and Hagrid looked at each other, but before any of them could make further comments, Madam Pomfrey showed up.
"Welcome to the waking world, Potter. How are you feeling?"
Harry was going to say 'fine', but then a sickly feeling crept up on him and he let himself drop back onto the pillow.
"Just a little woozy."
"That's to be expected. I think you could do with a little more sleep."
She presented him with a small dose of sleeping potion.
"Drink this and you should feel completely refreshed when you wake up."
Harry took the potion.
"I think I'll do that."
He lifted his head and put the cup to his lips, but then paused.
"Er- Hagrid, could you do me a favor?"
"Wha' is it, Harry?"
"Get Hermione and Ron out of the hospital wing and make sure they eat something. Besides your rock cakes."
Hagrid chuckled. "O' course, Harry."
Harry drank the potion, and once again felt himself slip into unconsciousness. The last thing he felt was a quick squeeze of his hand from Hermione.
Several days later, Harry found himself alone at the top of the Astronomy tower in the middle of the night, having travelled there in the safety of his Invisibility Cloak. He stared off into the distance, allowing the memories of the past few days to wash over him.
Dumbledore had yet to come and see him. What could have caused this? Surely the headmaster was not to busy to talk with the boy who risked his life to save the Philosopher's Stone.
Save the stone? said a familiar voice at the back of his mind. You're the reason it almost got stolen!
He didn't argue. He had led Quirrel straight to the stone, clearing the only two obstacles that caused him trouble. If Harry hadn't interfered, the stone would undoubtedly still be sealed in the Mirror of Erised.
Perhaps Dumbledore was angry with him. Yes, that sounded likely. Dumbledore had every reason to be angry, and it was as good a reason as any to not talk with Harry.
Harry's thoughts also dwelled a great deal on Hermione. She was his best friend, and yet he hadn't noticed the difference when Quirrel used Polyjuice Potion to mimic her. Even so, she made no indication that she blamed him. On the contrary, she was simply concerned for him. Why didn't she hate him?
Harry sighed and turned to leave. He jumped.
"Good evening, Harry," said Dumbledore, who stood by the entrance to the stairs. "Fancy meeting you up here."
Right, said the voice in his head, like he wasn't planning this.
Harry just swallowed and focused on his Occlumency.
"That isn't going to help you, Harry," said Dumbledore, smiling serenely at him.
"W-what do you mean, sir?" stammered Harry, nervously.
Dumbledore walked past him and turned to the sky, as if to look at the moon.
"What I mean is, you do not have the discipline or training necessary to use Occlumency properly. Your method is crude and ineffective, and if I chose to use my Legilimency now, you would be unable to stop me."
Harry took a step back.
"So all this time..."
"Yes, even if you'd used Occlumency to conceal your thoughts from Quirrel, it would not have worked. Mastering Occlumency without a master to teach you is nearly impossible. This is something that cannot be learned from books alone."
Harry looked out at the stars, his resolve strengthening. He had overestimated himself. A mistake he would not repeat. Then a terrifying thought struck him. Did Dumbledore know?
"Sir, have you been using Legilimency on me?"
"No, I have not, and I have no intention of ever doing so. You are an interesting individual, Harry, but I doubt Legilimency will ever be needed between us. Besides, reading your thoughts is hardly necessary to one who can read your face like a book."
He turned away from the sky to look at Harry, his half-moon glasses sparkling in the moonlight. His smile was inviting, as if to say; go on, keep asking.
Harry thought about asking why Dumbledore hadn't come to see him before, but he wasn't sure how to phrase the question without sounding rude. Then another question occurred to him.
"But if you're not reading my mind, how do you always know when I'm trying to block you?"
"Oh, but Harry, I already told you. Your face is an open book to me. It's not very difficult to see when you're concentrating."
Harry was only a little surprised. He knew Dumbledore was smart, he just hadn't counted on him being so good at reading body language and facial expressions.
"Sir, where were did you go on Christmas?"
"I merely went down to the village of Hogsmeade for a drink. Madam Rosmerta, the landlady at the Three Broomsticks, makes the most excellent oak-matured mead."
"And perhaps you visited your brother?"
"As a matter of fact, I did," replied Dumbledore without a shred of surprise. The fact that Harry knew he had a brother who worked in the village did not seem to disturb him in the least, even though this was a fact that very few people knew about.
Harry sighed. "Are you sure there's no way to learn Occlumency without a teacher?"
"Quite. But you could always ask Professor Snape."
"No," replied Harry firmly. "I can't."
"You don't trust him," said Dumbledore. It was a statement, not a question.
"I trust him with my life," replied Harry glumly, "but not with much else."
After a brief silence, Harry changed the subject.
"So what happened that night? I presume Riddle escaped."
"You presume correctly, Harry. Lord Voldemort escaped, leaving the horribly disfigured Quirrel to be taken into custody, but not before they both saw who had saved you."
"Snape," sighed Harry. He remembered all to well the voice of his rescuer. He'd recognize that voice anywhere.
"Professor Snape, Harry. And, incidentally, the Philosopher's Stone is no longer a threat. I've had a little chat with my old friend Nicholas Flamel, the maker of the stone, and we've decided it's best to destroy it."
"So basically, the stone's gone, but Quirrel lives to serve Voldemort in the future and Professor Snape has lost Voldemort's trust, making him useless as a spy."
There was no hiding Harry's spite when he spoke Snape's name, and Dumbledore noticed.
"You hate him."
"I'm trying not to, Professor, but he's not exactly making it easy."
"He saved your life. You should not forget that."
Dumbledore did not continue on the subject, opting instead to return to gazing at the stars. After a moment's pause, Harry dug his wand out from his pocket and looked at it.
"I wouldn't have needed saving if this thing didn't refuse to perform curses properly."
"Have you ever heard the Muggle saying; 'A poor sailor blames his oars'?"
Harry nodded. He'd heard that one.
"Well, the same holds true for us, Harry. Only a poor wizard blames his wand for his own shortcomings."
Harry stared at him incredulously.
"His own shortcomings? Are you saying I'm the one who's so bad at using curses? That I'm just a poor wizard?"
"Perhaps not," replied Dumbledore and pointed at the wand. "After all, you were chosen by the Trinity Wand. That little stick in your hand couldn't be more valuable if it were made of gold."
"But... It's not any better than other wands, and it can't even perform curses properly. Not even when I'm angry."
"Harry, of course it's not as powerful with curses."
Now Harry was just plain surprised. What on earth could Dumbledore be hinting at now?
"You spend so much time in the library. Did you never think to look up the attributes of your wand? Auguray feather, Salamander heartstring, Ramora fin."
Harry didn't understand, but then he remembered that when he had used Incendio, he'd seen the image of a lizard within the flames, and he'd also seen an image of a fish within his Aguamenti charm.
"Sir, do you mean to say that this wand is more powerful when used with water, fire and air spells?"
"Not necessarily. What I mean is, what do these creatures have in common?"
Harry just stared at him, not knowing the answer.
"The Auguray," explained Dumbledore, "which, coincidentally, is also known as the Irish Phoenix, cries out in warning whenever it's about to rain. The blood of a Salamander has powerful regenerative and curative properties. The Ramora is a guardian of seafarers."
Harry looked back down at his wand as he began to understand.
"Harry, the Trinity Wand is the wand of a guardian. It will choose none other. Not ministry workers, not aurors, not even the headmaster of Hogwarts."
Harry looked swiftly at Dumbledore in surprise. The Trinity Wand had denied him?
"You are a guardian, Harry. You would rather throw yourself in harm's way than see your friends get hurt. That makes you worthy of that wand. A wand that is weak in offensive and harmful spells, but incredibly strong in defensive and otherwise positive magic."
Harry looked at his wand, and then back at Dumbledore, his face riddled in doubt. Dumbledore turned away from him and walked towards the stairs.
"After all," he said just before vanishing from Harry's sight, "not many eleven-year-olds could have created something as powerful as the Seal of Harry Potter."
It was a peaceful year after that. School continued as normal, though without any DADA classes. The story of Harry's Christmas adventure had been quick to spread throughout the school and people were staring more than usual, but Harry had learned to zone it out.
Having now discovered the nature of his wand, Harry changed the focus of his library studies to all types of defensive and positive spells. He found several spells that would come in handy in the future, but actually mastering them was a little difficult. He was not allowed to practice in the library, but got permission from Professor McGonagall to use the now-empty DADA classroom.
Eventually, he settled into a routine of study and practice which lasted until the end of term.
It was as he was leaving the term's last Potions class that a thought struck him and he deliberately dawdled behind while everyone else left. Professor Snape was quick to notice.
"Is there a problem, Mr. Potter?"
Harry made sure everyone was gone before replying.
"I wanted to thank you, Professor, for what you did at Christmas."
"Don't get any delusions, Potter. I wasn't saving you, I was saving the stone."
Harry inhaled, trying to calm himself. Snape's tone was not making this easy.
"I wanted to thank you... for honoring my mother's dying wish."
Snape stared at him incredulously. That was clearly not something he'd expected to hear.
"And could you please dial it down on the hate thing? I trust you with my life, and I'm trying not to hate your guts, but you're not making it easy. I'm not my father, Professor. Half of me came from the other side. I'd like to think I got a little more from my mother than just her eyes."
Professor Snape just kept staring, speechless. Harry turned to leave.
"Your friend Granger asked the same thing."
Harry turned around. "What?"
"Shortly after your first lesson with me, Granger approached me and asked me to leave you alone."
Harry thought about that. He remembered she hadn't dropped her hand for the whole first half of that lesson. Most likely, she'd wanted to know why Snape was so mean to Harry.
"How many points did you take away before she gave up?"
"Twenty-five."
"Wow, she's more persistent than I thought," said Harry and smiled.
Snape did not smile. "Now, Potter, if you don't mind-" He pointed to the door.
"Of course, Professor," replied Harry and bowed. "See you after summer."
Harry was about to close the door when Snape added; "And don't ever mention your parents to me again."
Right. The malice was back in his voice and Harry doubted things had improved at all between them.
Harry was alone in the DADA classroom practicing the shield charm when Ron and Hermione stopped by. Harry asked Ron to cast a curse or jinx at him, and Ron tried the leg-locker curse, with the result that Ron fell to the floor with his legs locked together. Harry laughed with Hermione as she undid the spell. It seemed he'd mastered the shield charm. Quite a feat, considering his age. He wiped the sweat from his brow, he'd been concentrating very hard for over an hour.
"Sorry about that," he said to Ron. "I needed to see if I was actually doing anything... it's kind of hard to practice the shield charm by yourself."
"No problem," said Ron as he got up and laughed with them.
"So what are you guys doing here?" asked Harry. "Wanted to see me practice?"
"Err- no," replied Ron. "We're here to fetch you."
"Fetch me?" asked Harry, confused.
"To bring you to the great hall. The parting feast is about to begin."
"Oh. Right. Wait a second."
He went into his schoolbag and pulled out something he'd prepared earlier in the week. He'd meant to do this sooner, but he wanted to do it in private and he hadn't been able to get them alone until now.
"Here," he said, handing them one silver-colored coin each. The coins were identical, about the size of a pocket-watch, blank on one side but adorned with a lightning-shaped mark on the other and attached to a silver-colored chain. "These are for you."
"Blimey, Harry. What are you giving us? You expect me to wear this?" asked Ron, clearly repulsed at the idea of jewelry.
"Yes, I do," said Harry and pulled out the same kind of coin from under his robes. "Don't mock the coins; they're more valuable than they look. Keep them on you at all times, but keep them to yourselves. Don't tell anyone about them and don't let anyone see them. Got it?"
"Harry," said Hermione as Ron quickly slipped his coin under his robes. "What sort of spells did you put on them?"
Harry smiled. "You know, you're too smart for your own good. Don't think about it. You'll find out later, I promise, but it's important you don't mention them again for the summer. And don't write about them. Not even to me. No matter what happens."
Ron and Hermione looked at each other. Ron shrugged. Hermione put the coin under her robes and then surprised the boys by hugging Harry.
"Thank you, Harry."
"Hey, tone it down. It's no big deal. You're my friends. It's my job to look after you."
As they walked towards the great hall, Harry thought Ron seemed a little glum, but then he seemed to have a thought that cheered him up somewhat.
"Say, how about you guys come and stay at my place this summer? Mum and dad won't mind."
"If it means escaping the Dursleys, I'm all for it," said Harry, "but I've got to spend at least a portion of the year at Privet Drive, so I'll go there first."
Hermione and Ron looked curiously at him, clearly expecting an explanation.
"Can't tell you why. Sorry."
"Something to do with the future?" asked Hermione.
"Yes, one of the few things concerning the future that I'm absolutely one-hundred per cent sure about. I must go to Privet Drive at least once a year."
And he left it at that. After about a minute of silence, Ron spoke again.
"How about you, Hermione."
"Ron, I'd love to," Ron's smile suddenly got very big, but then Hermione continued; "but I'm going home first, too. I miss my parents."
Ron's smile dropped.
"Well, stay in touch. Let me know when you want to come so mum and dad can come pick you up."
"Sure," replied Harry, "but tell your dad not to use Flew Powder because the fireplace at Privet Drive will most likely be boarded up. Don't ask."
When they came into the Great Hall, Harry stopped dead in surprise. The room was... red. The walls were covered in red and gold banners and the Gryffindor lion adorned the back wall. This was very odd. Harry hadn't kept up with the house points over the last few months, but before that, Slytherin had been ahead by about seventy points.
"Harry? What's wrong?" asked Hermione when he did not follow them inside.
"I thought Slytherin was winning," said Harry.
"Oh, they won the Quidditch cup, but we've been in the lead on house points since Christmas," she told him. "You didn't notice?"
"Christmas? What happened at Christmas?"
Ron and Hermione looked at each other and Ron rolled his eyes.
"Listen to him. 'What happened at Christmas?' Like that sort of thing happens every year."
"You, Harry," explained Hermione. "You happened at Christmas. Dumbledore gave you and Ron fifty points each after your Christmas adventure."
Harry went a little red, but went to take his seat with the others. He allowed himself to relax and be happy about the fact that he'd made it through the first year without any serious damage. He was alive, his friends were safe, the stone had been destroyed and Voldemort was gone. For now, at least. He'd even given Gryffindor the points it needed to win the House Cup.
"Another year gone!" said Dumbledore as he started his end-of-year speech, but Harry wasn't listening. He'd just noticed Fred and George trying to hide some large joke item in their robes and, strangely, the sight had reminded him of Ginny. They would be leaving tomorrow, and when they got back to King's Cross, he'd get to see her again. He let his mind wander, but it never wandered far from Ginny.
His thoughts were suddenly interrupted when Dumbledore said "and finally, let us give a round of applause for the youngest spell-inventor Hogwarts has seen in many years and one of the truest Gryffindor students I have ever met. The inventor of the Seal of Harry Potter-" but the rest of the speech was drowned by the students' applause.
Harry wanted to hide his face. He probably looked like a tomato right now. Hermione took his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
Well, he thought as they left the Great Hall, one year down, six to go. Draco Malfoy walked past them, looking none too happy.
On the train ride back to London, Harry, Ron and Hermione shared a compartment with Neville Longbottom. The others were discussing their test scores (Ron didn't show much enthusiasm), but Harry was thinking about the year to come. He had already made plans for some of the coming events, but certain things still worried him. Was he really up to the task of righting the wrongs in the books? He'd already let one innocent creature die. Hagrid had buried poor Fluffy in his backyard, but Harry hadn't had the guts to go visit the grave.
What did he know about saving people? He hadn't been able to handle a weak Voldemort and a single wizard follower. How could he possibly fight a younger, stronger Voldemort with a Basilisk at his side? And yet he'd have to. He had to save Ginny.
He had to save Ginny? But what if Ginny was never in danger? What if he simply-
"Harry! We're here!" said Hermione suddenly. Harry looked out the window and saw that they were approaching the station. The train began to slow, and an announcement sounded, saying that they were indeed approaching King's Cross. They all scrambled to put away sweet wrappers and such, gather their trunks and change to Muggle clothing (except Hermione, who waited outside), and when the train stopped, everyone was ready to go.
Harry nervously got off behind the others and looked around, expecting to hear Ginny's excited voice yelling 'there he is, Mum, there he is' but it never came. Oh, she was there all right, standing beside her mother and staring at him, but she didn't even open her mouth. When he got to her, it was hard to tell which was redder; her hair or her face. He was sure his face was crimson too.
"Err- hi," was all he was able to say. Funny, he'd been able to act pretty normal around her the last time.
"Hi," she replied in a small voice.
They both looked away, and she shuffled to hide behind her mother, giving Harry a chance to recover enough to answer when Mrs. Weasley greeted him.
As he was leaving the platform, Harry looked back. Hermione was telling her parents some story or other. He heard his name mentioned. The Weasleys were getting ready to leave. Ron, the twins, Percy, Mrs. Weasley and... Ginny. She looked at him shyly. Their eyes met.
Yes. He would protect Ginny. And he wouldn't fail. He was, after all, a guardian. In his pocket, the Trinity Wand seemed to pulse.
He wouldn't fail. He refused to fail.
Author's Notes:
Been a while, hasn't it? I don't really have any comments to make on this chapter, except to tell you how amazed I am it turned out this well. I've been worrying about how to wrap up the year since I decided the whole Quirrel thing would take place at Christmas. Anyway, the next chapter will feature some of my favorite characters, so maybe I'll finish that one sooner. Then again, maybe not. I've started gathering material for a book I'm going to write (though whether I can actually get it published will be anyone's guess), and I'm starting college next winter (or the Icelandic equivalent to a college – Háskóli Íslands) so my time will again be limited. I think I can at least finish the next chapter by Christmas, but I don't want to make any promises I might break. I will promise to finish this story eventually, so you don't have to worry about that.
As always, if you have any questions, just ask and I'll answer them sooner or later.
BTW – In my Q&As, when I say 'No Comment' I mean I can't give you a spoiler-free answer.
'Till next time!