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Chapter 70
"Prophecy?" Tannim said in disbelief. "What kind of bullshit-"
Chinthliss placed his hand on Tannim's shoulder. "Perhaps we should allow him to elaborate before we jump to any conclusions."
Tannim's head snapped towards the dragon in human form. "Are you buying any of this crap?"
Chinthliss shook his head. "That is not the point. He evidently does," he said gesturing towards Dumbledore. "Whether we lend this prophecy any credence remains to be seen."
Tannim scowled at him but finally backed away and returned to his chair.
"Now," the dragon said turning back to the aged wizard. "What exactly did this prophecy say? And who gave it?"
Dumbledore shook his head. "I am afraid that I can not reveal-"
Chinthliss took a step forward. "We told you there would be no more of your games!" he said angrily, heat radiating from him as smoke curled from his mouth. "Your games have cost too many too much! Do you not understand the damage you have inflicted over your life? Have we not shown you that much?"
Dumbledore looked up at him, still rubbing his left arm, in a mixture of horror, confusion and fear.
"Look at your world! It has scarcely progressed at all in a hundred years! And even less after you ascended to your gilded thrones of power!" Dumbledore looked down. "My good man your people can hardly even think of surviving outside their cloister!"
Chinthliss stood straight. "Harry is our responsibility, not yours! Whether or not this prophecy has any relevance is for us to decide! And if you try to dodge our question about it once more the consequences will be dire!"
Dumbledore's head snapped up at that pronouncement and he looked at each man in turn, before nodding slowly. "Perhaps you are right… But I must insist on a magical oath of secrecy from each of you. This information must be protected!"
Keighvin laughed. "Do you believe us unable to protect this information?"
Dumbledore looked agitated. "Be that as it may, no chances may be taken with this information! It is of the utmost importance!"
"So you say Dumbledore," replied Chinthliss, "but this information would be safer with us than any place you know of. Now talk!"
Dumbledore sighed. 'Why couldn't they just understand!' he thought. "Very well, but I trust you will understand my point shortly. I was interviewing a new professor to teach Divination at Hogwarts when she gave it… and unfortunately one of his minions heard part of the prophecy and reported it to him."
"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..." he said in a quiet voice.
Tannim and the others sat for a moment, mulling over the prophecy. Tannim was the first to speak. "Ok. And?"
"Do you not see, young man?" asked the aged wizard. "The prophecy was about young Harry! His parents defied Voldemort and fought against him! He was born on the 31st of July, as the month died! His scar, the one on his brow, it was given to him by Voldemort! Marking him! And his destruction of Voldemort! He has a destiny yet to fulfill!"
Tannim shook his head. "No, even if that was a prophecy was about him, it has been completed!" He said sarcastically, "
Keighvin shook his head. "Tannim, I think he believes he is still alive."
Albus nodded. "I am now more sure of it than ever," he said with conviction.
"And what makes you believe that?" Chinthliss asked.
"My spy's dark mark has returned!" he replied.
"Dark Mark?" asked Tannim.
"A tattoo," Albus said, "of sorts. In actuality a modified Protean charm, given to the members of his group, the Death Eaters. After his attack on the Potters it faded but never completely disappeared as one would expect."
Chinthliss looked upward and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Depending on how it was created, it is possible that your hypothesis is correct." His eyes drifted back to Albus. "But that is just supposition, you will need better proof than that to convince me that your theory has merit."
The elderly man nodded and stood, slowly crossing the room and tugging on the frame of the picture of a young blond woman, behind which was a safe. "Two years ago an item was found by one of my students," he said as he opened the safe. "Thankfully she heeded her father's warnings about such things and brought it to me."
He pulled out a thin leather bound book and went to pass it to Chinthliss, only to find it being flipped from his hand by the tip of a sword.
"TANNIM!" cried Keighvin, "Destroy it with your bar!"
No sooner were the words out of the elf's mouth than Tannim was in motion. Drawing the heavy bar of Cold Iron from where it rested among the straps of his pack and bringing it down, using the pry bar end to transfer his strength and weight into the blow along with his magic, burying the chisel end almost four inches, through the thin book first then the wood of the floor and into the ground below.
Black ichors like ink erupted from the book, as did a muffled cry of some form.
"What the hell was that?" Tannim asked, as he watched the dark energy dissipate with his mage sight.
"One of the most disturbing perversion of pure of magic I have ever encountered," said Chinthliss. "A soul jar, it uses death magic to bind a soul to this plane."
"A Horcrux," corrected Dumbledore, his voice shifting slightly as he spoke. "Then I was correct, he is still alive!" He turned towards Chinthliss. "Harry's destiny is still not complete. I have reason to believe that he has made multiple such abominations."
Chinthliss sighed. "If he did he was more the fool!"
"But Herpo the Foul-" Albus began.
"Oh, yes!" said the dragon man. "Let's quote that idiot again! Did it ever occur to you that his writings were wrong? That the man was just being strung along by those that were baiting him?"
Albus's eyes grew wide. "The man had one of the Unseelie whispering in his ear the entire time he was developing it!" Chinthliss continued
Keighvin nodded. "Immortality is a lie. There is no such thing, not in reality. Time can be bent, twisted, even split if one knows how, but eventually death comes for everyone. The soul jar, or Horcrux as you called it, is nothing more than a way to keep death at bay for a time, and not a very good one at that."
Albus looked stunned. "Is this knowledge well known in Underhill?"
Keighvin looked at Chinthliss briefly, then back to Albus. "In a way… it is a perversion of a particular power wielded by some in the royal family. A way that they are able to share their magic, their very life force with another… And while not truly immortal, as they are vulnerable to each other, they are close enough due to their nature. When they use this power it is a drain on them, enough so that they may well sleep some time while their soul repairs the section they have used."
Albus stood in place dumbstruck. "If they must pay such a toll, then…"
Chinthliss nodded. "Oberon and his family can do this without the use of a spell, but the price they extract for their benevolence can be quite high. As for the spell to form a soul jar… it has many other drawbacks. Once complete, a feat that would take someone with no regard for life, the individual's soul will be held here on this plane as a formless wraith. As I remember Corrigan thought it quite humorous when he taught the priests of Egypt, and they used their own deaths to deny themselves passing on, all to watch over their Pharaohs' rotting tombs… This is just a more malignant form of the same art."
"In most cases," he continued, the wraith is harmless, incapable of interacting with anyone, even using possession, a skill powerful ghosts can achieve if only for a short time. It would take a willing participant to gain a foothold in a living human body, or prepare one for him…" Chinthliss paused in thought.
"Do you think one of his Death Eaters has found him? And that is why the mark is reappearing?" asked Dumbledore?
He nodded slowly. "It is possible," he said. "We know that one of his people can become a rat, and has been spotted several times, possibly to meet with someone…."
"Then we must go to Harry immediately!" Dumbledore said. "He must be protected, so he can fulfill his destiny!" he said, trying to head for the door.
"He is perfectly safe where he is!" said Tannim stopping him.
"But Voldemort-" he began.
"I said he is fine where he is!" said Tannim again, loudly. "Besides, even if we believed all of this crap, his part would most likely be over!"
"But only he can vanquish Voldemort!" said Dumbledore urgently.
"And if your information is correct he has!" replied Keighvin. "Think about it man! He did vanquish him! Or rather one of his parents did! He has been gone fourteen years! And until this stupid tournament Harry was living quite happily! Besides it could mean you as much as Voldemort! Especially after the things you have arranged to bring him back to your world and deny him the life he wishes to lead."
Dumbledore stepped back as if slapped.
'Is that true?' he thought, as his mind began running a mile a minute. Running through what he had learned of Harry's life up to this point.
He had been the one to convince the boy's parents, along with the Longbottoms that they were the focus of the prophecy…
It had been him that convinced them to use the Fidelius charm rather than hiding in the muggle world like Lily had wanted…
He condemned Sirius to Azkaban, when he decided that Harry would need to lead a simple quiet life until he was ready to be trained for his destiny…
He left Harry with his relatives…
He never found the time to check on him…
While he did not actively participate in the boy's entry into the tournament, he had let certain things transpire…
He had tried to forcibly remove him from his adoptive parents….
…and make him into the new 'Leader of the Light'…
"Dear Merlin… W-What have I done…" He thought, his mind whirling.
Sweat poured down the elderly wizard's brow, and his breaths came in gasps,
"Dumbledore?" Chinthliss asked, noticing the now sallow looking color on the man, as he collapsed onto the floor.
Harry's right hand flashed from the steering wheel to the shifter, as he pushed the clutch to the floor, and turned into pit road.
"Three…two…one…" said a voice in his ear.
He hit the brakes as the voice said 'one' and slid the last two feet as he came to a stop, the nose of his car just touching the marker board for the end of his pit stall.
"How did it feel?" the voice asked.
"Tight going in to three, six and seven! I don't think the air pressure helped!" he said.
"Alright Harry, I'm giving you one round on the left rear, a full set of rubber and a tank… But this is the last one! You've been out here almost three hours!"
Harry didn't say anything and as soon as the front tire changer waved he tore out of the pit box and back onto the track.
Al sat back in his chair, as he watched the back end of the mustang exit to the track, and shook his head. He pulled his head set off and handed it to the man next to him. "Keep an eye on his times, if he gets better than a 2:24 pull him in and get him out of that car! I won't let him crack my car up because he's pushing too hard!"
The man nodded, as he placed the earphones on and adjusted the microphone.
Jumping down Al made his way towards the infield care center, where he found Margo sitting with a very pregnant Shar.
"Well?" Shar asked.
"I told him this is the last run of the day, and Berry is watching his times… Just in case," he said as he sat next to the women. "Damn it! What the hell happened over there! I haven't seen him like this since that first trial… when Dursley was still in the courtroom."
Shar sighed. "He lost control of his magic, when he saw his birth parents' home… He blew a hole the size of his car through the back wall…"
Al shook his head. "Damn…"
"The house had been left to rot, with all of his family's possessions still inside. It was just too much for him."
Al took his hat off and rolled the bill in his hands. "Could- could anything be saved?"
"Keighvin and Tannim are looking into it… Keighvin is hopeful that he and Tannim can use Keening to repair the frame of Harry's birth mother's piano, but the wood can't be saved…" Her voice fell silent.
The older elf nodded. "If the metal isn't too far gone then they may be able to knit it back together…" he said softly.
"That's what they're hoping…" she said wiping away a tear. "Sirius wanted to do something, and since magical repair would eventually fade, he is going around to the Potters' friends, and gathering pictures, and asking them to write their memories of them down for Harry…"
"That's nice of him…" Al said, a small smile playing on his face. "Too bad things turned out this way…"
She nodded, as Margo's hand wrapped around hers and squeezed in support. "I'm going to go, Margo can drive me… Don't tell Harry I was here."
Al nodded. "Yeah… no problem, if he knew you were here... checking up on him…" He let his voice die away. "The boys and I will keep an eye on him… take him out for dinner, give you a chance to rest a bit…"
"Thanks Al." She smiled a sad smile at him. "You're a good friend."
"Not friend sweetheart," he said, leaning over to wrap his arms around her. "Family."