Disclaimer: Usually I write out a very specific disclaimer explaining exactly what it is I don't own but I find myself not really interested in doing so this time as it is very tedious. Suffice it to say I own nothing that was created by anyone else and I am not making any money off of this story or any of the other stories I have written.
AN: This story is self-beta'd; so there may be occasional grammatical or spelling errors that crop up every now and then and for those I apologize in advance.
Chapter 54: Madness is as Madness Does
Harry irritably scratched the back of his left ear with his hind leg as he tried to contain his frustration. He'd now been trapped inside of his wolf form for over two weeks and that wasn't even counting the nine days he'd been trapped inside of his mindscape while his body had gone feral. There were a hundred and one things he'd needed to get done during that time but he'd been unable to do a single one of them because he was still a wolf. At least he'd figured out a way to communicate with everyone else; teaching himself how to painstakingly type by holding a steel rod in his mouth.
He'd tried writing on paper but all he ended up doing was making a mess out of the paper and looking like he was just doodling and that was after he'd destroyed close to fifty pencils, a couple of quills (his wolfish instincts enjoyed eating those far too much), and a one pen (he'd not liked the taste of ink and had therefore not tried that a second time let alone a dozen or so times) because his teeth just sliced right through them the moment he applied pressure; hell, he even left dents in the metal rods Duo had made for him (out of fire hardened steel).
Doctor Watanabe had subjected him to several rather humiliating exams; including a third set of extensive blood tests in order to determine just how far the animagus transformation went in changing Harry's physiology. According to the x-rays the man had taken, his entire skeletal frame was well and truly that of a real wolf – if one discounted the unnatural hollowness of his bones (which is the main reason why he didn't weigh quite as much as a real wolf that had his size would weigh).
They had, during those exams, discovered that the frostbite damage had carried over to Harry's animagus form only instead of it affecting the nerves on the skin (which were completely covered by fur) it had transferred to the bones (specifically his joints); giving Harry an odd case of arthritis that would only act up when he was magically exhausted, if he was on his feet for more than two or three hours, or if exposed to the cold for extended periods of time (the last condition found through extensive testing with buckets ice cubes and a deep tub of cold water since it was not yet winter).
As much as Harry hated being a guinea pig, he didn't begrudge the geneticist his various tests and experiments though because there was a ten percent chance that the results could help them isolate the underlying cause of lycanthropy and possibly cure the cursed disease should they find any living werewolves (because of his lupine characteristics). They were also trying to determine if Harry's wolf form (which they hadn't managed to identify since he was technically a new species of wolf that was distantly related to both dire wolves and grey wolves) had any other magical traits.
So far all they had discovered was that he could literally vanish into the shadows, no matter how small the shadow was; which was mostly due to his coloring and a talent that was closely related to the method that dire wolves used to disappear (only Harry's ability strictly worked in the shadows unlike the dire wolves who could hide anywhere regardless of what kind of lighting was present). There were a few abilities he had as a wizard that had also carried over to his animagus form; the three most notable (not counting his ability to fly with his wings) was his magic's ability to filter chemical based drugs and poisons from his blood, his immunity to a wide range of venoms, and the ability to lace his voice with magic (which mainly just carried his words – when human – or his more emotional howls and songs out over a far wider range than what his normal voice would reach).
The last carry over trait was rather obscure and was one that he gained from Riddle's magic that he absorbed alongside everything else and that was his ability to speak and understand snakes; though it was far creepier to watch Harry the wolf hissing at a snake than it was to watch Harry the wizard speaking to snakes (according to his brothers). If there were any other hidden traits, they had not yet discovered them though it had been noted that Harry's form was balanced, much like his personality and magic were balanced; he could do great harm in his form (with teeth, claws, and venom) and he could heal (with both his tears and his tongue), he could effectively hide (using the shadows) and call attention to himself (using his voice), and he carried both the instincts of predator and prey (a mesh of wizard, wolf, basilisk, and phoenix all rolled into one).
Shaking away his drifting thoughts, Harry refocused on the chapter he'd been attempting to read out of the book on animagus transformations that Sirius had left to him in library. It was the chapter on how to reverse the transformation and so far none of the tips and tricks had worked for him (which wasn't really surprising since he hadn't actually used the animagus transformation to gain his shape; not that Harry knew that). He'd taken several dozen trips into his core to find the wolf avatar that had represented his inner nature but because he'd accepted the wolf as his equal and considered him well and truly a part of himself, there was no separate avatar for the wolf in him because he was quite literally the wolf just like the wolf was the wizard.
A true animagus only went as far as to accept that they had an inner beast and that they were equals; never making that final step to acknowledge that both their soul and their inner nature were both part of the whole. It was that final step that had allowed Harry to regain control of his mind and his body. But that was the difference between a wizard being forced into his alternate form and an animagus transformation and the reason why so few witches and wizards that had been forced through the change had ever returned to human form; since so few people could accept their inner nature as both part of the whole and equal in every way.
Feeling an urge to bang his head against the floor in hopes that it might miraculously knock the answer free so that he could return to his human self, Harry decided that he needed a break before he drove himself nuts while running his brain in endless circles. Flipping the book shut with his paw, Harry leaned down and carefully picked it up with his teeth (a book cover made from a thin sheet of steel protecting the leather cover of the book from his teeth) and carried it over to his desk. He then jumped up into his chair and collected his typing rod to leave a message on his laptop to let everyone know he was going flying to clear his head. Message sent, Harry trotted into his sitting room and made a beeline for the stairs leading up to the phoenix aerie which contained the only window that he could use to come and go from the tower without access to a wand.
Spera and Spero greeted him with happy trills that Harry parroted back to them with a warbled howl that mimicked their song's melody and notes several octaves deeper with a roughness that could be compared to a 'whiskey voice' that was rather throaty but pleasant none-the-less. So far none of the humans had heard him sing quite like that or they would have listed 'singing' amongst his talents since wolves don't normally have the ability to mimic bird song let alone phoenix song. Just like most wolves aren't anywhere near as flexible as Harry was; both his vocal abilities and his enhanced flexibility linked to the magic he'd gotten from the basilisk and the phoenix.
Pleasantries exchanged, Harry took a running leap towards the easternmost window and gave a single, downward thrust of his wings to give him enough momentum to reach the window ledge before he tucked his wings in tight so as not to injure them on the stone frame of the window (which he'd done more than once when he first started using the window to escape the tower). Once he reached the ledge, he braced his forepaws against the outermost part of the small ledge as he pulled himself up onto the sill before kicking off with his back feet; nose pointed towards the ground. As he launched himself out the window, Harry thrust his front legs in front of him and tucked his hind legs up tight against his belly as he stretched himself out lengthwise.
He spent several minutes just enjoying the sensation of free-falling (which reminded him sharply of diving on his Firebolt) before he snapped his wings open and brought both forelegs and head up so that he rose up out of his fall and soared across the sky as he regained altitude. The moment he felt gravity reasserting itself on his form, he shoved his back legs out (as if pushing off from an invisible platform) and swept his wings down and back. It almost looked like he was running or jumping higher with each flap of his wings; his legs going through the motions of running or leaping in order to help him maintain his balance and distribute his weight evenly so as to avoid straining his wings as they did most of the work to keep him airborne.
It was freedom; pure and simple. From the moment he'd first sat on a broom, flying had always been Harry's escape from all that was wrong with his life. In the air there were no angry relatives that hated him; no sick and twisted teachers abusing him mentally, emotionally, or physically; no annoying fans hounding him; and no pressure to be the perfect little hero. There was nothing but him and the sky and the only things holding him back were his own skills and daring and he delighted in the unending challenge of defying gravity each time he took to the sky.
It really didn't matter if he was flying on his broom, in an airplane, inside of one of the suits, or under the power of his own wings; Harry simply loved to fly. There were only a handful of things that could compare in his mind (spending time with his patchwork family, holding his son, or witnessing the magical world slowly coming back alive under his guidance with the help of friends and family) and only one thing that surpassed it entirely; being with Dorothy (no matter what they were doing – unless they were butting heads for one reason or another).
Harry lightly dropped down inside of the ruined Quidditch Pitch some two hours later and shook out his aching wings. The time he'd spent chasing clouds and trying new tricks that afternoon had been the longest he'd ever spent in the air using his wings alone and he'd probably pushed himself a little too far. He would recover though and it had been the most fun he'd had since he'd been transformed into a wolf; so it was well worth the pain. Besides, practice makes perfect and if he didn't push his limits he'd never improve.
Furling his wings to rest his aching muscles, Harry shook himself a second time before he loped across the field towards the castle. Running in his wolf form felt almost as thrilling as flying did, though it tired him out faster since he just didn't have the stamina that a normal adult wolf would have. Even the gentle ground eating lope he was using sapped his strength far faster than his flying had worn out his wings; part of that due to the fact that he used his legs to help him fly. As he felt the burning ache set in along his legs (the right foreleg especially), Harry decided that he was going to put far more effort into building up his endurance from that point forward; least he forever be a disgrace as a wolf.
Slipping into the castle, Harry slowed down to a walk and dropped his nose to the floor to check the area for trespassers (an instinctive habit from his wolfish side). Security of the castle confirmed, he kept his head low and slipped through the shadows, heading for the office his brothers were using in order to con one of them into following him up to his tower to open the door for him (wolf paws and door handles were apparently natural foes and he didn't care to break down the door each time he wanted in or out like Wolfstar). It didn't take him long to reach the antechamber that had once been his lab and office (and where he'd once been told he'd have to compete in the Triwizard Tournament) to find his brothers holding a rather intense meeting. Not wanting to interrupt, Harry muted his emotions (so as not to distract Quatre) and settled down in the shadows to wait for them to finish and listened to their discussion with growing distress.
"The construction crews are growing antsy with all of the delays," Wufei stated grimly. "It's been over two weeks since we've given them a new project and they keep asking to speak with Taliesin. We are either going to have to let them know what happened to Taliesin or we're going to have to find something else for them to work on to keep them occupied before they get so frustrated they up and quit."
"Unfortunately, all of the original castle projects they were scheduled to work on require Taliesin's presence to check for structural integrity and magical interference. We can't just send them off into the castle without that since working on those areas could potentially destabilize entire sections of the castle if they aren't shored up first," Quatre interjected as he pulled up the original timetable and projects schedule.
"There are several outdoor projects that we could have them work on while the weather is still warm," Heero reminded them. "They weren't as critical but it will give them something to do. We can also send them down to the airport and have them start on the improvements that we wished to incorporate there. I dislike the idea of letting them know what's going on with Taliesin though, because it might demoralize them further since there is a chance that his change is permanent; though none of us want to believe that, least of all Taliesin."
"What are we going to do about the new employees that Taliesin was looking to hire? We can't keep putting them off indefinitely either," Trowa inquired as he shifted through the interview notes that Taliesin had made almost a month earlier. "We've got the contracts and potions and I'm certain that we could weed out those that would cause problems down the line but none of us are capable of erasing the memories of those who are not."
"We might just have to take a chance and bring them in on a trial basis," Heero sighed as he scowled at his laptop and drummed the fingers of his left hand on the table. "If we bring them in a few at a time it might make things simpler and giving them all a definite date of arrival should set their minds at ease."
"Do we have enough rooms prepared for all of them?" Wufei asked.
"Yes, there are plenty of apartments still open in Ravenclaw Tower and plenty of family suites remaining," Cathy replied as she checked through her notes. "Even with most of the guest quarters currently filled, there is more than enough space for all of the potential new hires; private living quarters were one of the first projects that Taliesin approved when we first started really renovating the castle. Furniture is still in short supply but that shouldn't be much of a problem for long since Taliesin outsourced the carpentry to the refugees in New Hogsmeade and they are doing excellent work."
"That still leaves us in a quandary as ta what ta do with those that can't cope with da knowledge of da magical world," Duo pointed out. "Not ta mention the fact that they will expect ta meet with Taliesin upon arrival."
"I never really realized how much Taliesin was involved in everything around here," Sally stated as she leaned back and glanced about the table. "I mean I knew there were a number of things that he was personally responsible for taking care of but I never imagined that this reservation couldn't be run without him."
"If this was a normal reserve there wouldn't be any problems with Taliesin not being available but this is a magical reserve and without magic of our own there is only so much we can do," Quatre explained with a shrug. "Taliesin doesn't make a big deal out of the role he plays because he doesn't like being in the spotlight when he's just doing his job or pulling off the impossible."
"Doesn't stop him from playing the ham when it comes to his fancy card and knife tricks or flying," Cathy muttered fondly, drawing chuckles of amusement from the others.
Harry probably would have snorted in amusement over that observation if he hadn't been entirely focused on the issues that continued to pile up because he was trapped in his wolf form. The soothing tranquility he'd found by spending a few hours flying fled as his mood darkened once more with pure frustration. Not wanting to hear anymore of how much he was letting everyone down, Harry slipped out of the room and headed for the front door once more. He padded out to the promontory overlooking the Black Lake and dropped down onto his belly before propping his chin on his forelegs as he stared off out over the lake. He had no idea how long he was sitting on the edge of the cliff mired in frustration and self pity when Obduro trotted up and knelt down beside him without saying a word.
The two of them sat there side by side watching the sinking afternoon sun light up the lake with gold and crimson fire. The dancing rays of reflected light making it seem like the lake was filled with blood and coated with burning flames in turn and Harry felt an ache in his heart as his imagination painted the lake with an image of Hogwarts burning while the blood of witches and wizards soaked into the ground. It was as if the lake itself was mourning that which had been lost so long ago and blaming him for his inadequacies at the same time. Harry let out a soft growl that was half whine as he jerked his eyes away from the lake and pointed his nose up towards the heavens where the darkening sky was painted over with reds and oranges that was a mirror image of the crimson and gold that had painted the lake.
"You are frustrated, young mage," Obduro rumbled softly as he turned away from the heavens and glanced down at the tense wolf stretched out beside him. Harry's wings shifted irritably before he stilled them and nodded slowly; there was no denying he'd been frustrated for days now. Obduro chuckled softly and reached out to scratch Harry's behind the ears as he added, "You are howling at the wrong moon, young mage; look beyond the illusion of what you wish to make of your situation and see the truth behind what you have become."
Harry jerked his head out from under the centaur's fingers as his words cut through the pleasant fog that had settled over his brain the moment Obduro had began scratching the back of his ears. Twisting his head around, Harry folded his ear back against his skull, and dropped his head down and to the side as he furrowed his brow in confusion. He knew there was more to Obduro's words than just the words themselves; that was always the way it was with centaurs, though there were times when Obduro spoke far more clearly than any centaur he'd ever met before (not that he'd met all that many really). He just couldn't for the life of him find the thread that led to the nugget of truth that was buried in Obduro's declaration; for the first time since meeting the ancient centaur he had no clue whatsoever as to what he was referring to.
"You really don't have any clue as to what happened to you, do you?" Obduro asked in surprise as he took in the entirely too human expression on the wolf's face. Harry gave his answer by dropping his nose down further and arching an eyebrow and if he'd been in his human form wearing his glasses he would have been giving the centaur a dry look over the top of his glasses. "Did the mages of your age teach you nothing?"
Harry snorted and rolled his eyes as he finally relaxed his ears so they were no longer lying along his skull and thrust his back leg up into the air and made as if to lick himself only for Obduro to grab his muzzle in one hand and pull his leg back down with the other. The look on the centaur's face was a priceless mixture between amused, scandalized, and exasperated and Harry let out a single sneeze of laughter that had the aged centaur letting out a snort of his own.
"I get the point, young mage; there is no need to be so crude," Obduro dryly rebuked as he rubbed Harry's between the eyes with his index finger. "Let us start at the beginning; did the mages of your age teach you the ancient lore of the Rites of Ascension and Magical Maturation?"
Harry mentally frowned and scrunched up his nose as he racked his brain for any mental references to either process before he slowly shook his head no. Obduro sighed softly as he resumed petting Harry and turned his eyes up towards the sky where the stars were just starting to appear through the linger haze of the fading sunlight. After a few minutes, the centaur dropped his gaze to watch the ripples sliding endlessly across the surface of the Black Lake in the evening breeze as he began speaking.
"The stars weep for the souls of the children that were lost when those without direction drove our world to the brink of death when they forgot that a magic is a gift meant to be shared and that knowledge withheld is knowledge lost. Come, young mage, we must seek out those who can teach you what you need to know if you are to find your way out of the forest."
Harry stared up at the centaur as he rose up onto his feet with difficulty and Harry felt his heart clench as the knowledge that Obduro was thirty-eight years old (a centaur's life usually falling between thirty and thirty-five years due to their equine heritage) and that the time he had left on this earth could be measured in months if not weeks or days. Impulsively, Harry rose up onto his feet and trotted around to stand in front of Obduro as he rose up on his hind legs and hugged the ancient centaur as best he could with his wolf legs even as his wings swung forward to embrace the centaur as well.
The action caught the centaur off guard but after a moment he let out a fond laugh and buried his fingers in Harry's ruff and scratched the back of Harry's neck. Harry let out a moan and practically melted as the centaur's fingers hit all the right places and it felt like heaven and the only thing better would be if… No, best not to think of Dorothy right at the moment, Harry thought to himself as he pulled back his wings and dropped down onto his feet.
Obduro led Harry back into the castle and headed, not towards the library or the Great Hall (towards books or one of his brothers) but up two floors to the entrance of the former headmaster's office and the future restricted library. Harry stared at the jagged block that had once held the gargoyle that used to guard the staircase in confusion for a moment until he recalled the portraits of past headmasters and headmistresses that hung up in the office.
He made a note to himself to commission a new statue to replace the stone guard that had once protected the entrance before he stepped over the ruined base and slipped up the stairs in Obduro's wake; the former defensive wards protecting the office long since dismantled and replaced with wards that were keyed to a small number of individuals (including himself, Obduro, and his brothers). He paused just outside the door as he listened to Obduro greeting the dead echoes of the men and women that had dedicated some portion of their lives to educating thousands of witches and wizards through the years.
It was at that point that Harry realized that he hadn't been in to see the portraits since before he'd started viewing Dumbledore's memories and that unless one of the portraits from his tower tattled on him, none of them knew he was currently trapped in his animagus form. Cringing, Harry felt a wave of insecurity wash through him; how could he face the men and women that were considered some of the most powerful magicals of their respective ages knowing he was so weak? Would they demand that he be chased from the castle grounds because he wasn't able to live up to their expectations?
He probably would have been tempted to slink away to hide in shame if not for Obduro calling his name and with a soft sigh of resignation, Harry slipped into the office and jumped up onto the overly pretentious and highly ornate desk that Dumbledore had once claimed as his. Marshaling his Gryffindor courage, Harry sat down and let his wings unfurl behind him so that they framed his body as he shoved aside his insecurities and lifted his head so he could meet the stares of the forty or so former headmasters and headmistresses.
"Oh my," Dilys Derwent (headmistress during the late seventeen hundreds) exclaimed.
"Merlin's balding behind, boy, what did you do to yourself?" Phineas Black demanded in a tone that was slightly less condescending than usual.
"I did not know you were studying self transfiguration," Dexter Fortescue (an ancestor of Florean Fortescue who had owned the ice cream shop in Diagon Alley and headmaster during the early sixteen hundreds) murmured thoughtfully as he leaned against the frame of his painting to get a closer look at Harry. "As an animagus form it's not exactly subtle but I suppose you chose it based upon your canine friends."
"You don't look like an ordinary wolf, child," Everard Peverell (one of the oldest portraits in the room, his term as headmaster one of the longest ever; lasting from eleven fifty-seven and ending in twelve eighty-three when he'd been beheaded by Alaxandair mac Alaxandair).
"He is not an animagus; his magic forced him," Obduro solemnly intoned and silence fell over the portraits instantly; more than a few of the earliest headmasters blanching over that revelation. "He was never taught the Rites of Ascension and knows nothing of Magical Maturity. He has accepted the wildness of his inner nature as part of himself and the initial madness has receded but as you can see he has not yet been able to reclaim his human form."
"How long?" Everard asked softly.
"He spent nine days as a feral cub and two weeks as you see him now."
"That would explain why we haven't seen hide nor hair of him lately. Do you know what it was that drove him to temporarily reject his humanity?"
"Physical torture and a near death state are the most common causes and we've all seen the trouble this one gets himself into," Phineas disdainfully pointed out as he waved his hand about.
"According to those he has claimed as his family, his mind was shattered after viewing the memories of the Bee of War*," Obduro interjected before the ornery headmaster could add anything further; which again caused the soft mutterings of the paintings to fall silent while the paintings themselves for once appeared every bit the still life portraits that most paintings were intended to be. "He believes that he is host to a shard of another's tainted soul."
"Horcrux," Dexter hissed hatefully as he recoiled; not from Harry but from the mere idea that someone had done the unthinkable.
Harry didn't know that though and he flinched first from the word and then from the tone. Shame coursed through him and his wings went limp and pooled onto the desk to either side of him as he lifted his nose to the ceiling and let out a mournful howl. When he fell silent a moment later, all of the portraits were watching him with curiosity and he sank down onto his belly and dropped his chin onto his paws as he waited for the yelling to start.
"I shall leave you to guide the Child of Prophecy in the ways of the mages of old," Obduro stated as he bowed low to the portraits before disappearing.
"Ruddy centaurs," Phineas muttered with a scowl. "Always ordering civilized people about and making their vague references to things that have no importance."
Harry was on his feet in a split second, poised to attack the insulting and caustic portrait as an angry growl rumbled deep in his throat over the blatant insult; his respect for the aged centaur not allowing him to let the insult stand. Suddenly all of the portraits recalled what had happened to Dumbledore's portrait the moment the bearded man had opened his mouth and called the wizard turned wolf in front of them 'my boy'; the fact that Dumbledore had other portraits that hung in other buildings to which he could flee was insignificant since chances are high that Harry would burn each one of them if they hadn't already been burned or otherwise destroyed (like the one at the Ministry of Magic). Phineas at least had the good sense to shut his mouth and say nothing further and Harry growled a second time in warning before he calmed down.
"Ahem," Everard politely coughed to get Harry's attention and the moment the wizard in wolf's clothing turned to look at him the man began speaking in a lecturing tone that oddly enough reminded Harry of both Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick at the same time. "The Rites of Ascension are not, as most purebloods you knew would have you believe, some ritual or right that raised the nobility above the common man or wizard. The Rites are actually more akin to magical ranks and levels in regards to core size, magical talents, and magical potency (or magical potential) that a wizard will rise through throughout his lifetime. Additionally, the wizards within a given rank were assigned various levels to indicate the level of proficiency reached and was further defined by the potential of the wizard in question."
"The ranks were; magician, thaumaturge, conjuror, sorcerer, enchanter, mystic, and mage. Some incorrectly include the word wizard or witch in the list of ranks but what you must understand is that all humans with any level of ability are witches and wizards; that is what we are. Logically, you could say that all mages are wizards but not all wizards are mages and the same is true if you substitute the rank of mage with any of the other ranks."
"Magicians are the lowest rank as while they have some magic, they can only use low level charms and spells. The next lowest rank is thaumaturge and they can use low to mid level spells and charms but will tire quickly. Third in rank is the conjuror; a group of magicals that can use low to mid level spells and who have twice the stamina (which is determined by core size) of a thaumaturge. A sorcerer can use low to mid level spells in addition to a small range of high level spells for an extended period of time before they tire. Those four ranks have always been the most common; meaning that ninety-percent of all witches or wizards throughout history fell into one of those four categories."
"Of the last three ranks; enchanters could use all of the same spells as the lower four ranks, use high level spells for days before they tire, and account for five percent of the magical population; both Rowena Ravenclaw and Salazar Slytherin were enchanters as were a small handful of the headmasters and headmistresses of the various magical school worldwide while the rest, bar the remaining two founders, were mere sorcerers. Mystics are not much different than enchanters when it comes to their abilities to perform spells and the only thing that sets mystics apart from enchanters is a mystic's ability to perform healing magic. Any witch or wizard, regardless of rank, may learn how to cast a small number of healing spells or create healing potions but a mystic has the ability to heal others instinctively. Only four percent of the magical population ever received a rank of mystic and one of the most well known mystics of the British Isles was Helga Hufflepuff."
"Lastly, we have the rank of mage; one percent of all witches and wizards born have the potential to rise to the rank of mage. The first thing you should know is that mages are in a class all their own and the difference between a mage and all six of the other ranks is that mages are not born; mages are made. The second thing you need to know about mages is that they are forged in the fires of adversity; in other words there has never been a wizard that has risen to the rank of mage during times of peace. The last thing that sets mages apart from the other ranks, aside from raw power, is a mage's innate understanding of magic; earned through experience and willpower. Two of the most well known mages in Britain's history were Myrddin Emrys (or as he became known in later years, Merlin) and Godric Gryffindor."
Harry shifted uncomfortably as he learned the connotations behind the title of mage as he'd originally believed mage to be synonymous with wizard; at least that was the impression that Obduro had given him that first day when the centaur had called him the last mage. To him, it was arrogant and laughable to think that he had anything in common with the likes of Merlin and Gryffindor. In his own mind, Harry couldn't possibly be ranked any higher than a conjuror and even that seemed a little optimistic. Rubbing the side of his snout with his left paw to dispel his discomfort, he returned his attention to Everard.
"The levels within each rank, bar the rank of mage, reflect upon how skilled a witch or wizard was in their chosen craft and there are three acknowledged levels; apprentice, journeyman, and master. Apprentices are the lowest level wizards and are considered the beginners of their rank; they have the least amount of knowledge and the poorest control over their magic. Journeymen are the intermediary level wizards and they have a solid understanding of their limits, have a considerable amount of knowledge, and have developed decent control. Masters are those wizards that have reached a level of experience where their knowledge and control of their magic allow them to appear far more powerful than they are because they can get the most out of each spell they cast."
"Those that earned the title of master in their rank had an obligation to pass along their knowledge to an apprentice or journeyman; while the other two levels did not, though many journeymen were asked to the teach basics of their craft to apprentices that were bound to their masters. After the Ministry of Magic was created in the year seventeen hundred, some wizards began tacking other titles onto the various ranks such as novice, adept, and grand but they have no true meaning within the Rites of Ascension and were mostly for show once the concept of apprenticeships fell out of favor in the early eighteen hundreds."
"When it comes to mages on the other hand; you either are one or you are not. That does not mean all mages are the same or that all mages function at the same level; a newly ascended mage will not have the same skills of a century old mage, though the younger mage may well have a larger magical core. The distinction between mages ultimately lays in their individual talents and abilities; a few examples would be battle mages, healing mages, prophetic mages, elemental mages, and chaotic mages."
"Gryffindor was one of the finest battle mages and he made a name for himself on the battlefields of more than ten wars before he joined the other founders to raise Hogwarts. Merlin, on the other hand, was a prophetic mage and he used his abilities to help shape our world in the hopes of establishing lasting peace. I am uncertain whether to classify you as a battle mage or a chaotic mage; since it is obvious that you are skilled in the ways of war but it is also true that your mere presence is a catalyst for change."
Harry snorted and shook his head; he wasn't a mage despite what Obduro had called him.
"Magical Maturity will greatly influence one's ultimate rank within the Rites of Ascension. All children are equal when they are first conceived," Everard continued as he ignored Harry's denial. "By the time they are born, the size of their core has been determined and their ultimate rank tentatively fixed based upon the size of their core. An immature wizard's core is flexible though and through adversity or tragedy their magical core can be forced to either grow or shrink in order to protect their life and their magic; this is especially true in children that have not yet reached their eleventh birthday."
"One of the reasons why children are not taught to control their magic before their eleventh birthday is because if something were to go wrong, then they could permanently damage their core which will either kill them or corrupt their magic. The magical core usually settles on the child's eleventh birthday, though it still retains a measure of flexibility right up until the moment they reach Magical Maturity; which is the age at which their core loses the ability to adapt and most of its flexibility."
"Normally, Magical Maturity occurs between the ages of twenty-three and twenty-nine; the exact age depends upon the size of the wizard's magical core, how much control a wizard holds over their magic, and how often a wizard draws upon his magical core. The exact reasons why one wizard matures at twenty-three and another matures at twenty-nine are unknown though usually the twenty-nine year old used far more magic on a daily basis than the twenty-three year old did but that is not always true."
"There has never been a case of a wizard not reaching Magical Maturity by their twenty-ninth birthday but there have been a few rare cases where maturity has been achieved prior to a wizard's twenty-third birthday but never in one younger than twenty. The magical core of a wizard under the age of twenty is far too adaptable and far too flexible to be forced into maturity though there are other issues that can crop up during a wizard's childhood. Accidental outbursts, magical exhaustion, and forced magical adaptations are the most common issues that crop up in underage wizards."
"While usually non-fatal, each one of them can create potential problems for the witch or wizard in question if they occur frequently enough with exhaustion being the most dangerous. The less common problems that could arise (and the ones that were fatal ninety-five percent of the time) were; a fractured core (which refers to a core's inability to hold magic), a locked core (one that is incapable of releasing the magic it produces), a corrupted core (which produces tainted or weakened magic), and a dead core (which is what it is called when a core ceases to produce magic). Those types of problems, while rare, were far more common prior to the fourteen hundreds; when young wizards were far more likely to be caught up in a situation where his magic was forced to protect him from death or worse."
"Are you following me so far, child?" Everard asked softly once he'd finished the basic overview of both the Rites of Ascension and Magical Maturity. Harry dropped his eyes to the desk beneath his front paws and tilted his head to one side as he thought over everything he'd just been told before he looked back up and slowly nodded an affirmative. "Good, for a moment there I thought maybe I lost your attention when your eyes glazed over a bit. As a mage level wizard…"
Harry let out a long string of vocal complaints about being mislabeled as a powerful wizard when he knew he was far too weak; he'd never been able to properly protect any one no matter how hard he tried. The steady stream of barks, whines, growls, and grumbles merely amused the portraits of the former schoolmasters though and Harry wished (not for the first time) that he had been in his human form so he could properly inform the portraits just how wrong they were about him.
"Oh do be silent, boy," Phineas loudly ordered after Harry had been complaining for nearly eight minutes straight. Harrumphing in irritation, Harry snapped his jaws shut and glowered at the former Slytherin. "It is unbecoming of one of your station to throw a temper tantrum over such trifles."
"Stop antagonizing my descendant," Everard interjected crisply.
"I will not stand for a descendant of mine to act like a spoiled brat," Phineas countered with a sneer in Everard's direction. "He has responsibilities and I will not stand aside to watch him shirk those responsibilities."
"That does not give you free reign to insult him and belittle him at the drop of a hat," Everard replied with a scowl. "The child needs our support, not a constant tongue lashing; he's been under constant pressure from the moment he returned to the castle. He's performed admirably and to begrudge him his insecurities or blame him for not being properly taught his station will only make matters worse. We are here to teach and to train; it was for that reason and that reason alone that our portraits were made to hold an echo of our lives. The oath we gave when we took up the mantle of Headmaster or Headmistress of this establishment allows us to do no less. Now be silent so that I may correct the oversight of the one whom disgraced us all."
"And I am trying to teach him how to temper his tendency to open his mouth without thinking! Regardless of how it came to be, the boy is my great, great, great grandson and he needs to be taught proper manners. How can you expect him to learn properly if you constantly coddle the boy?"
Tilting his head to one side, his eyes wide in disbelief, Harry couldn't help but glance repeatedly between the two portraits of the two headmasters that had both just claimed his as their descendant. Sure, he'd known Phineas had been his godfather's great, great grandfather and because of the blood adoption that meant he was also a distant grandson to the man but he'd been under the impression that Phineas hated him. And yet… the man obviously cared on some level because otherwise why would he bother claiming Harry as his grandson? He'd had no idea that he was related to Everard though and it pained him to know that he knew so very little about his family beyond the names of his parents and what their lives during and after Hogwarts had been like (thanks to Sirius's memories).
"Oh do stop your bickering," Dexter ordered before Everard could reply to Phineas's last remark. "While you compose yourself, Everard, I will explain to the child how he came to be classed as a mage level wizard since it is obvious he doesn't consider himself to be that powerful. Phineas, you may lecture the boy on proper deportment once he has regained his human form; there is no point in conducting such lessons as a wolf."
"As you wish," Everard magnanimously intoned as he settled back.
"Oh fine!" Phineas grumbled as he left his frame to visit the Library where his portrait from the Black Family home had been hung upon his request.
"Now child," Dexter began as he looked out at Harry from his portrait. "If you will recall, Everard stated that one percent of all witches and wizards born have the potential to rise to the rank of mage. That means that for every one thousand magically gifted children born there are ten children born with the potential to obtain the rank of mage. Potential does not guarantee that they will reach that rank; only that they can reach that rank if they meet the conditions. A potential mage raised in a time of peace will never rise higher than the rank of sorcerer, enchanter, or mystic depending upon their capabilities, the size of their core, and their willingness to work. A wizard can only rise to the rank of mage by surpassing the various hardships that are thrown his way; in the same way that a sword can not be forged without fire, a mage can not be made without adversity."
"The age into which you were born was an age of war and prejudice. Muggles and wizards alike were awash in wars during the twentieth century, though our wars rarely ever touched each other's worlds. There were hundreds of potential mages during those years but few of them ever reached their full potential before they reached their maturity or because they ultimately failed to pass the tests that magic foisted upon them to unlock their gifts. Once a witch or wizard reaches maturity any untapped potential within them vanishes because their core has lost its capability to adapt; so those potential mages that survived to maturity without unlocking their full potential never rose beyond the rank they reached prior to gaining maturity."
"In your case, your potential was partially unlocked the night your parents died. The trials you surpassed during the time you were in Hogwarts helped prepare you for the trails you have faced since the moment you arrived in the present age. By the time you set foot on the castle grounds last year, you had obtained the rank of mage even if you still have not fully mastered the abilities that magic had granted you. We knew you had the potential to unlock your mage powers at the end of your second year when we learned you'd defeated Salazar's basilisk and recovered Gryffindor's sword; which Godric had sealed away inside of the Sorting Hat five years before his death. Only a potential mage could have unlocked the many enchantments that Godric had placed upon the hat in order to prevent the sword from falling into the hands of one lacking the ability to wield his sword."
"Further proof of your eventual status was given to us in your third year when Dumbledore ranted about your ability to cast a corporeal patronus in the face of a hundred dementors at the tender age of thirteen despite the fact that he'd bound your core. That was a feat few witches and wizards below the age of seventeen have ever managed when faced with a single dementor simply because it requires a significant amount of raw magic, the ability to focus upon a positive emotion, and a good degree of control over one's magic. Throughout your fourth year, Dumbledore often ranted for hours on end due to the way you continuously managed to slip through his compulsions and managed to continuously pull upon large amounts of magic despite more than seventy percent of your core being bound."
"Confirmation that you had achieved your status upon your return came when you broke the wards that had sealed the various rooms within the castle with relative ease. In order to make certain that it wasn't just a fluke of the wards having lost strength over the passing centuries, we tested you by teaching you three specific spells; the ceiling enchantment for the Great Hall, the empty spell to siphon off your excess magic into the castle, and the spell to reactivate the staircases. Connected to Hogwarts as we are through the frames of our portraits, we have all felt the amount of magic that you have poured into the castle and it has not been an insignificant amount."
"We also felt you activate the ceiling in the Great Hall and I can tell you now that the original enchantment took no less than three sorcerers close to one week to fully activate the ceiling. You, on the other hand, activated the enchantments in less than eight hours without the help of another. The night you temporarily activated the stairs; you instinctively poured just enough magic into the spell to fuel the spell for a set amount of time – something we had not revealed when we taught you the spell."
Harry huffed and dropped down to his belly as he fought the urge to pout over the man's confession that the portraits had been testing him. He still wasn't certain he believed them about his status as a mage but at the same time he was a little more open to the concept that he was more powerful than he'd originally believed. It would take time for him to accept the title of mage though; simply because he just didn't see himself as all that powerful.
"I can understand how hard it must be to accept the possibility that you are a mage, due to Dumbledore doing his best to keep you as downtrodden as possible," Dexter continued once Harry had settled back down. "But it is very important that you accept yourself and your power least you cripple yourself magically the moment you reach Maturity in four to ten years. There was at one time a book, titled Magical Mastery: A Guide to the Rites of Ascension, within the Hogwarts Library that can help you learn how to determine your rank, level, magical status, and any hidden talents you might have; if you need proof. In the mean time, it is important that you keep an open mind and pay attention to Everard's lesson because it will help you to regain your human form."
"Thank you, Dexter," Everard murmured he took control of the conversation once more. "Now child, do you recall what I told you earlier about Magical Maturity?" Harry nodded. "Good. As I mentioned, the most common problems an immature wizard will face are; accidental outbursts, magical exhaustion, and forced magical adaptations. The two issues I believe that we need to focus on at this point are accidental outbursts and forced magical adaptation; since magical exhaustion is pretty much self-explanatory. Are you familiar with the Law of Unintended Consequences?"
Harry nodded a second time while letting out a snort as he swept his wings forward and waggled them; he was intimately familiar with that particular law.
"Yes, I suppose that particular law would apply to your wings; they are also the product of a forced adaptation that drew upon the magic of the phoenix tears and basilisk venom that were in your blood. Dumbledore often speculated on what the tears and venom would do to you if you were ever placed under enough stress."
Harry had growled softly over the mention of Dumbledore but he'd quickly dropped his anger as he focused on what the painting had said about the wings being the product of a forced adaptation. Sitting up on his haunches, Harry stared up at Everard for a long moment before he swept his wings forward once more to study them; as if he could divine the answers to his unspoken questions from the black and green feathery scales that made up his wings. After several minutes, Harry turned his mismatched eyes back up to lock gazes with Everard; silently demanding an explanation.
"When a young wizard is in a complete panic, in extreme pain, or faced with something they consider far worse than death, their magic will do one of two things; either strike out at the one harming them or strike inwards to escape whatever is harming them. The cases where magic strikes out are considered accidental or uncontrolled outbursts of magic and when the uncontrolled magic is focused inwardly, meaning that it affects the wizard on some level, it is considered a forced adaptation. Both are usually triggered by an extreme emotional outburst (such as fear, desperation, or rage) or physical distress (such as extreme pain) and both typically lead to magical exhaustion due to the amount of magic involved being uncontrolled."
"The size of an immature wizard's core alongside the depth of his emotions at the time determines the full extent of damage such an outburst is capable of achieving; essentially meaning that the more powerful the wizard, the more drastic the result of the outburst or adaptation. The results of an accidental outburst are always noticeable, even if there are no witnesses, simply because the evidence is there for anyone to see. Forced adaptations, on the other hand, are not always immediately noticeable since the changes are internal."
"A few examples of unseen adaptations are; an advanced rate of healing (usually spurred by a significant injury that causes extreme or prolonged pain), improved or heightened senses (often in order to compensate for the lose of another sense; such as improved hearing when one is blinded), an enhanced rate of metabolism or an ability to digest food that would normally be inedible (usually the result of a poor diet or prolonged periods of starvation), or an ability to sense danger. Examples of a more obvious adaptation would be; an unexplained overnight growth spurt, changes to one's physical appearance, or if the wizard is powerful enough an instantaneous forced transformation into the animal that best reflects their inner nature."
Everard paused a moment to make certain Harry was still paying attention before continued once more, "While on the surface, a forced transformation through forced adaptation resembles an animagus transformation; the two are actually completely different. In fact, the only thing the two types of transformation have in common is the fact that they both draw upon one's inner nature."
"An animagus has a choice in which animal they become though; as there are many animals that represent the same basic natures. For example; dogs, wolves, and horses are all animals associated with loyalty while cats, ravens, and owls are all associated with wisdom. When a wizard gains an animal form through forced adaptation, it takes the form that not only best represents his inner nature but the one that can best protect the wizard from whatever it was that triggered the adaptation."
"Another difference between a forced adaptation form and an animagus form is the level of magic involved; during the course of animagus training, one is taught to moderate how much magic goes into the transformation while someone who experiences a forced transformation has no control over how much magic is used during the change and typically draws upon the entirety of their reserves."
"Then there is the fact that an animagus form is always a non-magical creature while a forced transformation has the potential to gift the wizard with the form of a magical creature if he is a powerful enough wizard. The biggest difference between the two is the fact that an animagus only looks like an animal while those that are transformed through forced adaptation become an actual animal; they loose all traces of their humanity upon the initial transformation."
"Additionally, animagus transformations are relatively easy to reverse in most cases because there is a specific set of rules that guide the wizard through the initial transformation; there is even a spell that can force an animagus into and out of their animal form. In the case of a forced transformation there is no easy reversal or quick fix and there is no spell capable of reversing the transformation in either direction. There is a way for a wizard to regain his human form after he has experienced a forced transformation but there is seventy-eight percent chance that some part of the adaptation will carry over into his human form."
Harry couldn't resist grumbling over the revelation that there was a chance he could end up with wolf ears and a tail or possibly end up as a walking throw rug. It was bad enough that he had wound up with wings but at least they were useful. Feeling somewhat more frustrated than he had when he'd first left his tower to fly, Harry closed his eyes and scratched at the back of his ear with his left hind leg. After a few minutes, Harry dropped his leg back down onto the desk and stood up so he could shake himself off in order to rid himself off any loose fur in addition to his frustration before he sat back down and returned his attention to Everard's portrait.
"Don't worry, child, we are almost finished," Everard assured Harry as he gave the wizard in wolf's clothing a fond smile that held more than a touch of amusement. "The method used to transform one's self from animal back to human after being transformed into an animal through forced adaptation has three steps. The first step is to come to terms with the reason behind the forced transformation; meaning you have to acknowledge whatever it was that triggered your change, understand why it affected you the way it did, and regain a measure of control over your emotions as they relate to the trigger."
"The second step is to unconditionally accept your inner nature as an equal part of yourself. The third and final step to reversing the forced transformation is to find the soul door that links one's outer nature to their inner nature; that door is the key to transforming between animal and human. For wizards that have no experience or knowledge of Mind Magics the final step is near impossible to accomplish because they do not know how to find their inner mind."
"Since it is obvious that you have been able to follow my lecture and have shown an ability to understand and respond to our questions; it is easy to conclude that you have successfully completed the first two steps prior to Obduro bringing your condition to our attention. All that remains is for you to find the soul door. No one can tell you where your soul door resides; you have to find it for yourself because everyone's soul door is found in a different place. The only constant is that the soul door will manifest somewhere within your mindscape. The better you know your own mind, the easier it will be to find your soul door."
Nodding to show he understood, Harry rose to his feet once more before he gracefully jumped down off the desk and headed towards the exit. He was halfway out the door when Everard spoke to him once more, "When you have successfully located your soul door and are human once more, there is much that we need to discuss; starting with horcruxes, Dumbledore's memories, and your status as an untrained mage."
Harry shifted his wings as he glanced back over his shoulder and nodded one last time before he loped down the frozen staircase.
Notes:
Alaxandair mac Alaxandair – also known as Alexander the third and was of the House of Dunkeld; King of the Scots from twelve forty-nine until his death in twelve eighty-six
Bee of War– the centaur's name for Dumbledore since Dumbledore is supposed to mean bumblebee or something along those lines I thought it an appropriate title for my Albus.
Dexter Fortescue – dates of his headmastership were never given so I chose to pull a date out of a hat or rather out of my mug… what can I say, I was missing my tea since the cup was empty.
Everard Peverell – Yet again I pulled the last name and dates he was headmaster out of a hat since JKR only ever gave us one name and while I suppose Everard could have been his last name, I felt like making him an ancestor of Harry's through the Peverell line because I could. And I needed a reason for him to feel a connection to Harry above the duty of a portrait oath bound to educate and obey the current headmaster or headmistress of the school since Harry isn't technically the headmaster even if he is essentially running the castle and will run the school once the children are old enough.
AN: And there you finally have a rather detailed magical explanation about what happened to Harry as well as a bit more of how magic works in this story. I'll have the next chapter up this weekend, if all goes as planned, and hope to have chapter three of WWYR2 ready for posting as well. I'm sure there was something else I needed to say but it slipped my mind for the moment.
More importantly, I'd like to thank everyone who has reviewed or added this story or my author's page to their favorite's list or have started following the story. I appreciate all of the support you've shown me over the past year since I posted the first chapter of this story. For those who are curious, there are exactly twelve more chapters left to post on this story; though the final two chapters aren't quite finished as of yet. I have plans to have all twelve of those chapters up by the end of the year but I make no promises on the final two chapters. =) ~ Jenn