Godric's Gift
A/N: a couple of things to clear up: 1.) there will be no harem. Hermione is Harry's sister, not his lover. 2.) for now, we will stick with Harry's POV. I will add some Fleur POV in the second arc. But we are a long way away from that. In truth, this story is just beginning.
Note on 1/14/23: My apologies for the sloppy, unedited work I subjected all of you to if you read this story before the above date. I will be slowing down my posting to ensure I actually take the time to edit. If you are a person who loves editing–drop me a message, and I would love a second pair of eyes for this thing.
The Lookout
The door swung open, revealing a vast room with wide stained windows overlooking the castle grounds. To his right were a broad table, fireplace, and wall lined with books and a contraption that looked like a muggle thermostat. To his left were rows of weapons, suits of armor, and what looked like training dummies—clearly an area set up for some kind of sparring. In the center of the room was an elevated platform with a four-foot obelisk jutting from its base. On it rested a milky white gem, completely round, half the size of one of Trewlaney's crystal balls. It gave off the faintest glow. The only light in the room save the whisper of sunlight making its way through the stained windows.
Harry walked forward towards the stone. He felt the steady beating of his heart. He wanted to touch the stone. His hand began to reach out, but he was not sure at the same time. It was magical, and Harry knew touching magical artifacts could be dangerous.
"There is a fine line between courage and foolhardiness, lad; I'm quite glad that the latest wielder of my sword is not totally devoid of sense." A powerful yet jovial voice said from behind Harry.
Harry spun around and saw a large portrait of an absolute bear of a man standing above a chair in a drawing room. He wore a great tunic of deep crimson embroidered with gold which draped over white trousers and dragonhide boots. He had a massive head with medium-length blonde-greying hair and a prominent mustache that stood out from the rest of his trimmed facial hair. His face was filled with mirth, an honest smile that radiated warmth in the dim room.
"Your sword, are you Godric Gryffindor?" Harry asked tentatively.
"Ahh, despite Rowena's fears, it appears that modern educational systems are, in fact, capable of literacy and basic deduction," Godric replied with a laugh.
"What is this place?" Harry asked.
"It is called "The Lookout. " It was my personal contribution to this castle's defenses. It was designed as a command and control room in case the castle was ever attacked. Its magic, alongside myself, have been dormant for a little over three hundred years. I awoke a little less than a year and a half ago when you pulled my sword from my old hat." Godric said, still smiling.
I awoke to quite the sight! A child slaying a thousand-year-old Basalik, and with its venom coursing through his veins, destroyed an abomination of magic. More than that, Harry Potter, I watched you display the fiercest courage of all. I watched you face your death and be at peace with it before that beautiful bird did the miraculous." Godric said, beaming.
"Fawkes the phoenix did most of the work. But I imagine most anyone would have done it if they were in my position." Harry replied.
"Ahh, that is where you are wrong young master Potter, but we can get into the particulars and paradoxes of courage on another day. Today we must discuss why I called you here." Godric said kindly.
"Why am I here?" Harry asked.
"Haven't the foggiest," Godric said with a laugh.
"Excuse me?" Harry said, stunned.
"I do not know why you are here," Godric said, beaming still.
"Sir, didn't you make the room?" Harry asked.
"Of course," Godric replied.
"And it was your message that called me here?" Harry continued
"Indeed," Godric said.
"But you don't know why you called me?" Harry asked
"Ohh, I certainly know why I called you," Godric replied
"But you just said you haven't the foggiest?" Harry asked, growing more confused.
"Rowena may have been right," Godric chuckled.
"Sir?" Harry asked
"You asked me "why you are here?" And I do not know why you are here, Mr. Potter; I do, however, know why I called you."
Harry sighed and shook his head, "Why did you call me sir?" Harry asked.
"Because I've watched you for over a year, I've seen you face a Basilisk and a hundred dementors, and I have seen you overcome, and I have also seen you waste time and hold back from what you can become. Something you cannot afford because "The Dark Lord will rise again with his servants aid greater and more terrible than before…."
Harry shuttered at the repeating of Trewlay's prophecy, terrified by its implication.
"You were there when she went into that trance?" Harry asked.
"Once I awoke, I could be anywhere there is a portrait or tapestry in the castle; I can also see through the eyes of the Sorting Hat that is conveniently located within your Headmaster's office. An excellent source of information. For the past fifteen months, I have gathered snippets of what is happening in the magical world, and I have learned that this "Lord Voldemort" is gaining strength and has an unfortunate obsession with you."
"So you called me to tell me to study harder because Voldemort is coming back?" Harry asked.
"A teacher must always reserve the right to give his underachieving pupils a swift kick in the arse," Godric said, chuckling. "But, I am offering you more; I am offering to train you. You have an abundance of courage; I seek to add knowledge, prudence, temperance, and magical skill to your arsenal."
Harry's heart started pounding. He thought of Fleur dueling four wizards at once, of the moments when he survived on luck alone. This was his chance.
"What do I need to do?" Harry asked excitedly.
"First, you need to make a choice, the stone that is behind you. It is called a Saxum Scientia.
"A stone of knowledge?" Harry interjected.
"Perhaps you don't need as hard of a kick as I thought; you've learned much in two months of runes." Godric praised. "This stone of knowledge is woven into the magic of The Lookout. If you take hold of it, it will show you, and me, yourself."
"Myself?" Harry asked.
"Yes Mr, Potter, yourself. We will see foundational portions of your life as they were, free from the stories you tell yourself about them. We will see triumphs and failures, the good and the evil." Godric said.
Harry's throat tightened; he was speaking to Godric Gryffindor. One of the founders of Hogwarts. Currently, the man thought Harry was worthy of him. But if he saw what happened at Privet Drive, no, no, there must be another way.
"Sir, I, I just met you. I don't, well I'm not sure; I don't think I can," Harry said, his eyes dropping to the floor.
Silence fell between the pair as Harry could not bring himself to face the portrait.
"May I call you Harry?" Godric said gently.
Harry nodded.
"Harry, there is light and darkness within all; all have sinned and been sinned against. Listen to me when I tell you; I have chosen you as my pupil. There is nothing we will see that will change my decision. But, to be my pupil, you must know yourself. Moreover, you must face yourself.
"This is the only way you'll teach me?" Harry asked.
"The stone activates the room. Without the activation of the room, I will rest again in about a fortnight. Regardless of your decision, I will teach you everything I can for that time." Godric replied.
"So I don't have to choose now; I can take some time and think about if I want to show you every part of my life?" Harry asked.
"Take some time, my young friend, but do not confuse discernment for delay; we have much to do," Godric said."The door will open only to those who've truly wielded the sword. I will not silence you but advise you to be cautious in who you tell about me. You attract enough attention already," Godric finished.
Thank you, sir. Harry replied, exiting the room.
Harry left the room and took several breaths. Trying to settle himself and take in everything he had just heard. His feet began to move rhythmically but without an end destination. He had little doubt in his mind that the portrait was, in fact, Godric Gryffindor; while the room unsettled him, it did not feel evil like Tom's diary did. Besides, Godric knew things he only could if he was woven into the castle's magic, as he said. Furthermore, Dumbledore sent him on this task, and Dumbledore would not send Harry into something sinister. But, to want to know everything about him. To see, why would he even need to see all of that? It's so. Harry paused. He did not think about his past. He could not think about his past. He had a practiced habit of un-knowing his childhood. This damned portrait has no right to know what Harry rather deliberately un-knew.
"Harry," Hermione called from behind him.
Harry stopped on instinct and tried to get his mind back under control. Last night's dinner felt like ages ago, but he tensed slightly, unsure what his friend wanted or how she would behave.
"Harry, glad I caught you; I missed you at lunch and wanted to apologize," Hermione said sincerely.
"Er, thanks, Hermione." He paused, then continued, "sorry to ask, but what exactly are you apologizing for? Last night was tense, but I've no idea why? Harry asked.
A look of incredulity passed Hermione's face, but it gave way to a soft smile. "Harry, I often forget that while you're quite different than Ron, you are, in fact, still a boy."
"Um, thanks, I think?" Harry replied.
"No, it's just, Harry, I was being stupid last night, and at breakfast for that matter," Hermione said, picking up steam. "Ron was going on and on about the Quidditch player, then everyone was ogling Fleur, and you, well, you weren't really ogling, but you dropped everything to talk to her, not to mention almost getting killed for her, and you don't even know her, and I well, Harry I got just got frustrated at everything."
Harry, remaining confused, remained silent.
"I was rude, Harry, to you, and I projected some of my insecurities onto Fleur, who was nothing but polite." I am sorry." Hermione finished, her face sincere.
"Hermione, it's forgiven; nothing to worry about," Harry responded quickly.
"How was your tour?" Hermione asked.
Harry paused, considering Godric's words, then decided.
Incredibly productive. Harry said. Hermione, the tour was fine; I took Fleur around a bit. We talked, and I walked her back to her carriage; I think she will help me learn to duel better, and she's nice to talk to. But more importantly. I found it.
"Found what?" Hermione asked.
The Gryffindor, the Hat's message, remember? When I went to see Dumbledore, the voice in the hat told me to "Find the Gryffindor," but I was thinking all wrong. It was not Gryffindor, and it was Gryffen-Door. The tapestry on the ninth floor is of a Gryffen, and a man with his back turned. The back has a sword holster–I put the sword into the holster, and it opened a secret door. You'll never guess whose portrait I met inside.
"Godric Gryffindor?" Hermione asked.
Harry shook his head, somewhat ashamed of himself.
"Guess it was pretty obvious now that I think about it," Harry said.
Hermione was kind enough not to comment.
"Was Fleur with you for all of this?" Hermione asked.
"No, I noticed it and came back after dropping her off. She'd have thought me a right prat if I whipped out the sword and accidentally destroyed a tapestry." Harry replied, evoking the faintest hint of a smile from Hermione.
"So, you did go back then? You met Godric Gryffindor. It was his message? How did it go? What did he say? Hermione exclaimed, making Harry smile at her return to form.
"He was not what I expected, but I suppose I did not really know what to expect. We didn't speak for very long, so I really can't say for sure." Harry replied. After I pulled the sword from the Hat second year, he woke up; he watched me slay the basilisk, saw us drive off the dementors, and saw Trelawney's prophecy.
At this, Hermione gave a sour look.
Hermione, it was different, I swear. Dumbledore and Godric Gryffindor both believe it was a genuine prophecy.
"I suppose," Hermione said, exasperated. "Sorry, go on."
"Well, he offered to train me, to teach me, and give me access to the magic of the room he created," Harry said.
"What sort of magic?" Hermione replied.
"I'm not quite sure; it's dormant until I accept or reject his offer," Harry said.
"Reject? You would pass up the opportunity to study with one of the school's founders? Hermione asked, confused.
"He said to train me, he must know me, and I must know myself. I have to pick up a stone; a Saxum Scientia doing so will show Godric all the memories that shaped me. I just have some unpleasant memories I don't really want to talk about. I don't even want to see them; why would I show them to a total stranger?
Hermione looked pensive for a moment, then threw her arms around Harry. He stiffened at her embrace but, taking a deep breath, relaxed into it. After several moments they broke apart. Hermione looked at him kindly.
"What are you going to do?" she asked.
"I, I dunno," Harry said.
"Harry, you're a good person; nothing in your past changes that," she responded.
He nodded weakly.
"And nothing that's been done to you is your fault, and you've nothing to be ashamed of," Hermione said, her voice growing stronger.
Harry looked away.
"Look at me. You faced your worst memories last term and overcame them. You can do this." Hermione said boldly.
"Thanks, Hermione," Harry responded. Nodding at his friend, he turned to walk away.
"Harry, Where are you going?" Hermione asked.
"I've made my decision. No point in any more delay." Harry finished.
oOOOo
In no time, Harry was back at the door and inside The Lookout. Turning to the portrait, Harry said firmly:
"Sir, I'm ready. I've made my decision."
"What have you decided?" Godric asked, smiling.
"I want you to teach me; I'll touch the stone," Harry said.
Godric appraised him. "When you are ready, then lad, and you may call me Godric."
Harry took a deep breath and grasped the stone.
A whirl of images swam across Harry's vision. He was watching his life flash before his eyes. Harry watched as he ran towards a masked man throwing himself at him and grappling for his wand. He saw a fist knock him over, and Fleur take the man out. The image changed, and Harry watched himself writing a letter to Sirius, a smile plastered on his face. Another change He watched himself struggle to cast the Patronus charm in Lupin's office, a look of fixed determination driving him on. He looked again and saw he and Ron ignore their homework, play chess, and say terrible things about Millicent Bulstrode, the unfortunate-looking girl from Slytherin. Harry felt ashamed.
Another image flashed, and he was looking at the message on the wall "Her body will lie in the chamber forever" he remembered his sadness and the need to save her because she had a family and she would be missed. Another flash, and he was walking alone through the halls of Hogwarts. Nasty glances were thrown at him; it was his second year. Another change and he was screaming into his pillow, and he remembered the anger from that night two years ago.
Another flash, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were pleading for McGonagall to believe them that Snape was going after the Philosopher's stone, only to be dismissed. Another flash, and Harry was sitting with Hagrid in the leaky cauldron. He watched Hagrid tell him about his parents and about Lord Voldemort for the first time. Another change, and he was running from his cousin, a game of Harry hunting clearly going on.
Harry grimaced, anticipating what was to come.
Another flash and Harry looked on at a terrified little boy who had woken up from a nightmare he watched his younger self shake his aunt, waking her and asking for comfort. A look of cold apathy was all that was offered. Harry remembered how worthless he felt, how alone he felt, how little he mattered. Another flash, Harry watched Uncle Vernon box his ears and throw him into his cupboard. He had knocked over a vase in the living room while dusting. He felt the terror and helplessness of his seven-year-old self. Another flash and Harry was sitting on top of the roof of his primary school. He had no idea how he had gotten there, but he was exhilarated at what had happened.
Another flash and he saw a snakelike man with wand raised pointing at an auburn-haired witch he knew to be his mother. He heard her crying, "Not Harry, please, not Harry." He watched a jet of green light take his mother. He watched his mother crumple to the floor. Another flash, and he saw no more but was overwhelmed by a torrent of emotions. Anger, fear, sadness, hopelessness, drive, joy, hope, and a white-hot fire of determination burned within him. Overwhelming the other emotions filling him with strength. A final flash and a tidal wave of memories overwhelmed him, too many to remember at once. Harry was sinking, drowning in a sea of memories and emotions. Enduring no longer, Harry fainted.
oOOOo
Godric at last! I hope you enjoyed the chapter–let me stress there will be no romantic interest between Harry and Hermione. She is his sister, and this is not Game of Thrones. Next time Harry will deal with the aftermath, and his training will begin in earnest…also there's the small matter of the Goblet of Fire.