Deathly Fate
Chapter 3 – Now What?
"It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves" – William Shakespeare
The night had passed without any changes in the condition of the boy who laid on a bed in the infirmary. His magic was still wild. All Madam Pomfrey could do was wait till the monitoring charms on the boy alerted her. It was almost evening.
She busied herself in finishing the paperwork at hand hoping time would pass soon and the boy would wake up. Being a solitary healer in the Hogwarts Hospital Wing except for the occasion student who interned to get a hands-on experience at healing for help in future career, she found herself with quiet a lot of mundane paperwork at her hand, filing away records of student's health. Such times would often find her completing the said paperwork, keeping her distracted of the hopelessness of wait.
Ping!
Suddenly she felt the monitoring charms on Mr. Potter go off and quickly she rushed to his bed.
[Break]
Harry groaned as he opened his eyes, his mind still clouded by the recent happenings. He could see the white walls of the infirmary around him. As he was beginning to come to his senses, suddenly he saw a woman rush into his view with a wand in her hand. His eyes widened but he quickly relaxed when he recognized the familiar form of the Hogwarts healer Madam Pomfrey.
Madam Pomfrey sprung into action casting various diagnostic spells at harry under a muttered breath.
Her eyes widened in shock as the results noted in her mind.
"Madam …." Harry tried to speak but was interrupted by the healer.
"Mr Potter you have just suffered extreme magical exhaustion and would advise that you do not attempt to make any movement, neither speak."
Harry could only nod as Madam Pomfrey made him lie back in bed and summoned a house elf to alert Dumbledore.
"Though I would have preferred to inform of this later, my healer's oath prevents me from doing it. Mr Potter it is very strange, but your magical core seems to have increased many folds in size. I have no explanation for this phenomenon and am myself at shock. You need not worry, it will not hinder your ability to perform magic, but as I hypothesize it will make your castings stronger. I would also advise you to not attempt to cast any magic for at least 2 days, and later begin with only the simplest spells. Also, I will not be sharing this information about your magical core with anybody as my oath, and patient-healer confidentiality prevents me from doing it. I hope you understand, and I will be always available for further discussion on this matter once you have fully recovered." Madam Pomfrey stated in a no-nonsense manner.
Harry slowly nodded his head, his head almost busting with even newer information. Though he did feel relieved that this anomaly of his magical core would not be shared with anyone, and he could safely decide on what to do with this information later. Strangely as he thought all this, he noticed his mind felt clearer, as if a huge burden had been lifted of it. He somehow felt in control of the situation. His newfound ability to think clearly definitely helped. His mind felt sharper, and he felt as if he could process information more quickly than before. He wondered from his conversation with Death, of weather the removal of Tom's soul from his scar was cause of this. As he thought of his conversation with Death, he wondered if it was a dream, but something inside his gut told him it was not. He felt his scar. It no longer gave that subtle sensation of constant pain but was just like a plain old scar.
The door to the infirmary bust open as Dumbledore came in, McGonagall tailing behind him.
As soon as they spotted an awake Harry, relief spread through their faces.
"Mr Potter its quite a relief to see you finally awake, could you please update us on young Harry's condition Poppy?" Dumbledore asked.
"Mr Potter appears quite alright except for his exhaustion something that can be easily fixed up with a good night's rest and some potions. As for his magical core it appears to have finally stabilized and his magic is calm and steady. Though it will be helpful if Mr Potter does not cast any magic for at least two days." Madam Pomfrey replied.
"How are you feeling Harry, my boy?"
"Except for a mild headache and tiredness I am quiet ok sir" Harry replied his thoughts still focus on his conversation with Death and her warnings. He knew that he should trust Dumbledore, that's what Hermione would have said, but the encounter with Death and left him confused. Not to mention his gut feeling that he should hold out on the information he had and see the things play out made him measure his response and only say what was must needed to be said. This he felt was quiet different from his previous self who would be rushing to tell Dumbledore of all that had happened. He knew not what had caused this change, bit his mind reasoned with him to trust his actions.
Seeing that Harry was ok for now Dumbledore asked the question that had been long plaguing his mind.
"Poppy, do you have any idea what caused Mr Potter's condition and how was he recovered?"
"I can hardly hazard a guess headmaster; Mr Potter's condition is quite rare. It is probably one of a case and we can only hypothesize what might have happened. It looks as if after the dementor's kiss Mr Potter slumbered into a state of magical coma and his magic was able to fight him back out of it. Perhaps you can shed some light on it headmaster."
Dumbledore thought about the situation a deep frown on his face.
"It is truly a strange occurrence. Never before has anyone survived a Dementor's Kiss. Even I am not able to conclude on what must have caused it. Was it his mother's protection of love that had saved him of the killing curse acting again or was it something more. Perhaps only time will tell. Mr Potter I would like to discuss the night's events with you. I have already got a overview from Miss Granger and know of what had truly transpired. Rest assured we will take necessary steps to insure justice. I would also like to hear your view of the events to clarify the facts and more so know what happened after you followed Sirius in the forest. But first you need some well deserved rest. After you have been deemed fit to leave the hospital wing by Poppy, feel free to join me in my office for a refreshing lemon drop. I must remind you that Mars Bars are quiet the crunchy treat to enjoy on such a fine summer day. Now as much as I enjoy your company, duty calls and I must take your leave, leaving you in the capable hands of Madam Pomfrey. Sleep tight" said Dumbledore as he merrily grabbed one of the treats of the nightstand adjoining Harry's bed unwrapped it and dug in as if that was the only thing left to do as he left the hospital wing.
McGonagall had a hard time keeping herself from rolling her eyes at the headmasters infatuation of sweets. She too soon enquired after Harry health and followed after Dumbledore leaving the infirmary.
Harry mentally groaned at his predicament. He knew he could not tell Dumbledore of his encounter with Death nor about the secrets of the Peverell blood that he carried as per Death's own words. How was he to explain surviving a dementor's kiss. First he had been called the boy-who-live for surviving the killing curse.
Now What? The boy-who-kissed and lived.
Argh!
He had just lost his first kiss to a bloody dementor.
What? Where did that thought come form!
I seriously need to get my mind in order Harry mentally noted. He knew the wizarding world was going to make a huge fuss out of it. He could only hope Dumbledore could keep it out of papers. How was he to deal with this? The year he arrived in the wizarding world he was called their saviour, the boy-who-lived, layer they called him the heir of slytherin and a dark lord, now a new moniker was yet to arrive to mark his third year in the wizarding world.
As the thought of his previous years in the wizarding world came forth, he couldn't help but wonder where his friends Ron and Hermione were. Surely they would not leave his side waiting for his recovery in the hospital wing. Maybe they the patron Madam Pomfrey barred them for staying he thought.
"Madam Pomfrey, do you know where Ron and Hermione are?"
"Mr Potter, Mr Weasley recovered of his injuries this morning and I sent him of to his dorms to rest further. Miss Granger was here this morning and she left with Mr Weasley."
"When can I leave Madam Pomfrey, I fill like I can walk, maybe I can catch up with them in the Great Hall for dinner." Harry questioned with hope that he could leave the boring hollows of the infirmary asap. After being in here so many times he had no lost love with the beds in the infirmary and wanted out of it."
"Oh! No young man, you won't be putting even your feet of the bed unless I tell you so. You will only leave after I deem you fit enough. Now you are going to be a good boy, have dinner that I bring you here, drink up all the potions that I give and sleep to get proper rest. You have just suffered near magical exhaustion and there is no way I letting you go just because you say so." Madam Pomfrey stated in a tone that left no room for any doubt.
Soon Madam Pomfrey called upon a house elf to bring Harry a simple dinner. After finishing his meal quiet hurriedly trying to placate his hunger which had been ignored till the sight of the delicious food cooked by Hogwarts elves appeared before him. After he was well fed and watered, he saw Madam Pomfrey rushing toward him with a tray full of glass vials and he knew his doom was near. For all magic's wonders Harry still could not figure out why the hell potions tasted so bad. Did no one ever have the idea to make them taste even a bit better. Some magic could make a great change over there.
Seeing Harry make a face the healer rolled her eyes and shook her head as the sight in front of her reminded her of yet another boy with messy black heir who had the same reaction to being treated. Realising that she had you make a point before the boy in front of her tried to worm his way out of the treatment, she spoke.
"These are potions to help you recover soon and no reasoning on your part is going to make me not give these to you. There is a rejuvenating potion, a dreamless sleep potion, a pain relief potion as well as two nutrient potions and I want them down you without as much as of a squeak of protest."
Resigning to his Fate, Harry one by one downed each of the potions in front of the healers observant eye and felt his tongue wither from the repulsive tastes of the combined cocktail.
"Now I advise you take some rest Mr Potter. I will be available at your call should you need any of my help. Please ring the bell on your nightstand should you need any of my help. Sleep tight." Madam Pomfrey said as she returned to her desk hoping to catch some rest herself, now truly exhausted of all the events since last night.
Harry knowing that he could do nothing till tomorrow morning as he felt the effects of potion on him, he could feel his eyes beginning to shut. Giving in to his rapidly approaching sleep he decides to catch some rest and make sense of all that was happening with a fresh and rested mind.
[Break]
A well-rested Sirius Black had just woken up in his room in Grimmauld Palace. He knew now was the time to act. He did not have much time to waste, his godson needed his help.
He quickly got off the bed and rushed about to freshen up and take care of his morning ablutions. As he looked upon himself in the bathroom mirror, he looked at his shabby appearance and worn-out clothes. His eyes looked swollen; his cheeks sunk in. All in all, he looked haggard. A mere shadow of the once strong and handsome man he had grown into. He knew he had to get back in shape. But first he had some other business to take care of.
He needed to enter the Lord's study at the Grimmauld Place. He was sure he would find much of help over there. He knew he still did not possess the Lord's ring as getting it from Gringotts would be quiet a hassle considering his convicted status. He knew gaining access to the Lord's private study without the Lord's ring on his finger was quiet a risk and if not accepted he would be dead in the best-case scenario. He didn't even want to think of worst case, having learned of the protections the black family magic provided from his grandfather when he was young. The Blacks were a family that had practised the Dark Arts since centuries. They specialized in curses and possessed knowledge of such spells that could make their enemies suffer fates worse than death. He recalled the stories his grandfather told him, of how the Black Lords of the past fought, wielding such power through their wands that even entire armies couldn't stop them. It was like they wielded the hands of death itself destroying the very existence of those that had dared cross them. As he recalled those stories, a shiver ran through his back. He knew he was taking a great risk trying to enter the Lord's study without possessing the Lord's ring. But he had to do something. He needed to help his godson. He believed that if the Black Family Magic had judged him to be the true Lord Black, which was evident by Kreacher obeying his order; then he should be able to access the Lord's study.
With slow steps Sirius made his way to the Lord's study unsure of what awaited him. He had been inside the study only a handful of times with his grandfather who had insisted upon him being educated as the Black Heir.
As he arrived upon the ornately carved door he stilled. The door was pitch black, as dark as the night sky without the moon and the stars. The carving depicted worshiping the dark arts. In the lower half of the door, a figure holding a beautiful wand was depicted in a duelling stance ready to cast spells at an evil looking demon like creature. There was a huge carving of The Grim, the Black family totem at the centre of the door. The doorknob was polished silver without a speck of dust on it a far sight from the rest of the dusty house.
Sirius took a deep breath and readied himself. He knew there was no turning back know. With thoughts of Harry's wellbeing in his head, he steadied his trembling hand and touched the doorknob to open the door.
Pain, extreme pain, such that he had never felt before cursed through his body. Foreign magicks entered his body cursing through it finding way to each and every part. His body was lifted up by unknown forces and he stared shaking violently.
Just as soon as it had started the pain stopped. The unknown force left his body, and he was pushed inside the study. As soon as he fell in the door slammed shut. Sirius lay sprawled on the well-polished wooden floor trying to gather his wits. Just as he was about to celebrated at being allowed the entry in the Lord's study, he heard a strong and raspy voice call him out. Hearing the voice filled him with great fear.
Sirius Orion Black!
A voice bellowed. As dark metal chains sprang out of nowhere and bound him tightening around his frail body. Sirius could not fathom what had happened, he believed that the Black family magic had accepted him as the Lord, then why the imprisonment. Opening his eyes shakily and looking at the voice that had instilled fear in him. His eyes widened in shock as fear took its place in his eyes.
"Grandfather", he slowly uttered his voice trembling and weak as he looked upon the portrait of one Baron Arcturus Black III. The man who was feared by the entire Wizengamot for his political shrewdness and wit as well as his ferociousness with a wand. The man was revered to have fought Grindelwald to a standstill with his brother-in-law Charlus Potter. He alone had landed quiet a blow on Grindelwald advancing armies in Europe such was his skill with a wand.
As the Arcturus Black in portrait looked upon Sirius with a sneer on his face, Sirius felt torrent of fear wash over him. Finally breaking the staring and been stared at contest Arcturus spoke.
"Finally, you have decided to show up to the house of Black, grandson" Arcturus spat with venom in his voice.
"Grandfather…." Sirius tried to speak.
"I would have never thought you would become a man of such disgraced honour. I never said a thing against you when you rebelled and ran out of the house of Blacks. But supported you and believed you would return becoming a worthy man of the Black heirship. Alas, even you disappointed. To betray the family that sheltered you. Turn upon the boy who you considered brother in all but blood. We the Blacks may be practitioners of Dark Arts, and carry out the most heinous of acts, but even then, we do not turn our back on those we considered our own. Loyalty for your brethren was something I always impressed upon you when you were a child. And now you piss on all my teachings." Arcturus intoned his voice full of anger as the portrait frame shook.
Sirius felt the chains binding him tighten around him. He was struggling for a single breath as he felt the enormous weight of Black family magic press upon him.
"Grandfather…" Sirius tried to speak.
"Don't interrupt me. You have disgraced my name and what I stood for. First Bella, then Regulus and now you I just know not what you hoped to achieve liking the shoes of that madman. How could you betray my dear sister Dorea who had welcomed you with open arms and cared for you when you ran away from your own house. Oh! What has happened of the once great house of Black. Most of it dead and those that live slaves to a murdering psychopath. Now you better brace up young man. If you think I will just hand you over to the ministry to put you back in that hellhole of Azkaban, yes, I will do that, but not before making you pay for betraying the family of my dear sister and her husband who I considered a brother in all but blood. It pains me to torture one of my own bloods. But you must pay for your transgressions."
As Arcturus said so, Sirius felt the family magics around him thicken and suddenly a jagged whip with purple flames surrounding it appeared in front of his eyes.
Sirius gulped and cursed himself for the situation he found himself in. He had to do something quickly or else find himself the victim of tortures of the black family magic.
Summoning the last of his strength, he knew only one thing could stop his grandfather now and hence he spoke with a determined voice seeing the whip come his way.
"Grandfather, I swear on my blood and magic, I did not betray the Potters, nor am I a servant of Lord Voldemort. Please give me a moment to explain myself."
Arcturus Black was in fury. Such was his predicament. He had always given his children and grandchildren freedom of their own choice. Now he was repenting it. All of them had deluded themselves in foolish visions of grandeurs and followed after that upstart Voldemort. Arcturus knew that the path his family had took up was one that would destroy it. But there was little he could do. He had grown extremely weak in the years before his death. His wife's passing away and numerous injuries of battles of past having had its toll on him. He had spent his last days at Grimmauld Place trying to put things in order. He knew his son Orion had no spine, always deferring to his bint of a wife Walburga and her foolish ideologies and dreams. He had hopes for Sirius and expected he would take up the mantle of Lord Black and lead his family out of the path of annihilation. But all had went down the pit the night Sirius had betrayed the Potters. Arcturus could not believe the news. Resigned in fate's dance he had took to residing in the Lord's study never again going back to the world waiting peacefully for Death to catch him. He had lost all of hope. When he felt his grandson enter the study, fire of vengeance as his family's fate made him act.
Now, as Arcturus heard his grandson swear, he was astonished. His grandson was alive, proof itself that whatever Sirius took an oath on was a truth. A flicker of hope made its way into his eyes.
Hoping to gain an explanation at the sudden turn of events Arcturus made the fiery whip disappear and made Sirius drop on a chair that had materialized out of thin air below him as his bindings gave away.
As Sirius dropped in place on the chair, he took a steady breath, having just saved himself from a fate worse than Death. He slowly rubbed his aching shoulders and allowed blood to flow through them having just got rid of the binding that seemed to be squeezing the life out of him.
"Kreacher" Arcturus called, and the elf appeared before the portrait, his head bowing low.
"Bring Sirius a glass of water."
Kreacher looked at Sirius apathetically and snapped his fingers and a glass of water appeared before Sirius floating stably in the air.
Sirius quickly grabbed the glass and downed the water in a single gulp as relief spread throughout his body.
Bowing to the portrait Kreacher disappeared with an almost inaudible pop.
"Explain" Arcturus intoned as he looked upon his grandson.
Sirius took a deep breath and continued to explain what had happened before and after that eventful night at Godric's Hollow. He explained how he convinced Lily and James to switch the secret keeper to Peter saying he was way obvious a choice. He went on to explain how Peter had betrayed them. He mournfully retold his arrival at the Potter cottage and finding baby Harry and deciding to hand him over to Hagrid and rush of after Peter. Oh! How he regretted that decision. He told of how Pettigrew had trapped him, and he was sent to Azkaban without. As he said so, Arcturus erupted in rage,
"They dare put the Heir of a Noble and Most Ancient House in Azkaban without trials. Those bastards. Those snivelling bootlickers. I shall have their hide." And a string of not so polite curses followed. Finally, after Arcturus seem calm, he motioned Sirius to continue.
Sirius continued talking about his time in Azkaban and how he escaped in hoping to get to Harry and extract his revenge on Peter in the meantime. He recalled the events of Harry's third year sorrowfully, repenting his recklessness. As Sirius told his tell, Arcturus could see the sorrow in the boy's eyes. His regret at not being there for his godson. Arcturus hoped at least this Potter boy would be the reason Sirius grew up and took his duties more seriously. Knowing there was not more to hear Arcturus spoke,
"You have been quite foolish and reckless in your behaviour, grandson. Even now if it hadn't been for the magic wonder of the Potter boy, you would either be back in ministry's clutches at best kissed by the dementors at worst. Not only that you risked the boy's life to. Hope you have learnt something from your time in Azkaban and the past year and finally decided to grow up."
Realization sunk into Sirius as he heard his grandfather's harsh words.
"I know grandfather, that is the reason I decide to come to this place. I need to help Harry. He is alone in this world and needs my help. There is a lot he needs to know. The boy is smart and magically power, his Patronus a proof of that, but has also suffered a lot. I can only guess how those muggles he lives with when not at school treat him. I hope to be there for my godson like I should have been all those years back." Sirius said with determination in his eyes.
"You seem to be caring a lot about the boy Sirius. I only hope you don't disappoint him any further."
Sirius nodded his head.
"Yes grandfather"
"Good, now I hope you know what you have to do. I believe you Sirius just like I had all those years back when you left this house, I had said so then and say it now, the family magicks flow strong in you. You will make a great Lord Black. Now ritual to swear yourself as Lord Black, finalizing your Lordship. You can recover the Lord's ring from Gringotts later when you deem fit but as now let the family magics grow strong in you. If you hope to help the Potter boy, you know you need all resources you can have at your disposal. I hope you remember the incantation of the ritual as I taught you years back."
Sirius nodded and stood up making space for himself. He knew this was it. If he was to help Harry, he must do this. He mentally prepared himself as he recalled the incantation. Ready he spoke in a confident voice –
I, Sirius Orion Black, Heir of the Blacks, swear to take up the Lordship of this great house and uphold its tradition and values. I swear to protect the Blacks and its allies and destroy any that dare to harm to the Blacks and its allies. I swear to bring back the House of Blacks to its full glory.
Familia magica accerso
Suddenly the air around him thickened as he felt himself being judged by the family magics. The view before him went Black and the familiar form of a Grim appeared before him. The Grim growled in a slow deep voice and sized him up. As the Grim stared into his eyes, Sirius felt as if his entire life was judged before his eyes. He knew backing down now meant a fate worse than Death for him. He stared back in the eyes of the Grim defiantly. After what seemed like the eternity, the Grim slowly lowered its head. Cold magic washed over him and Sirius slowly opened his eyes. As Arcturus looked upon Sirius as he was opening his eyes, he saw a grey glint appear in it. Arcturus beamed proudly.
Sirius opened his eyes completely. He felt energetic, like his entire essence had been renewed. He also felt the familiar magic of the Blacks grow stronger in him. Now his magic felt colder, eager to rush out and destroyed any that slighted him. He settled in with this new feeling knowing that the magicks of Black was deadly both to the caster and the unfortunate one it was being used on. He knew he had to exercise immense control on his emotions, or fall prey to madness that the Black family magic caused. Perhaps his meditation exercises he had took up to while in Azkaban and Occlumency might help him greatly in this. He also felt the control of the wards at Grimmauld Place fall to him. He knew now the Black family magic was his to command, at his will. He slowly looked up at his grandfather's portrait and saw a rare smile on his face.
"Congratulations, grandson hope bring the Blacks to their past honour and glory" Arcturus said
"Thank you grandfather, I will try my hardest to live up to your expectations."
"Now I know you will also be needing a new wand. I doubt you could get you hands on your own while escaping Azkaban. You will find my wand hidden behind my portrait. Something tells me it will serve you quiet well." Saying this the portrait swung open to one side revealing a small recess in the wall, in which rested a beautiful wand. The wand was pitch Black with a white handle the end of which was carved beautifully in the shape of a Grim's head.
"Sirius lightly grasped the wand in his hand and felt a sudden wave of cold magic rush through him, the wand emitted silver sparks. He could feel his magic sing in symphony with the wand ready to cast at his mere thought."
"Ah! The wand suits you perfectly. Its made of wood from the oldest Blackthorn tree in the world with Ukrainian Ironbelly heartstring as its core. The wand has served me well, hope it serves your command just as well." Arcturus said with a proud smile.
Sirius beamed with pride and smiled having got a wand of his own after such a long time.
"Now I understand you want to help the Potter boy. And so do I, so I ask you to listen what I say next carefully."
"Grandfather why do you want to help Harry?" Sirius enquired.
"You forget grandson that he is not just your godson but also the grandson of my dearest sister. And that makes him family, which is enough to make me help him. Not to mention the boy needs all the help he can get if he is to make his mark in this world. There will be lot many vying for his blood once he comes of age. Though I trust you to protect him to the best of your abilities, you are inexperienced when it come to dealing with the jackals and hyenas of the political field. It is imperative that the boy be taught of the ways of the wizarding world. Not to boost but I can definitely be of some help in that arena. I may no longer be alive, but even in my portrait form I could teach the boy on how to weed the political water."
Sirius found logic in Arcturus's reasoning. Having kept himself away form his name, he knew he had no political experience to deal with the likes of Malfoy and Fudge if it came to it. He also understood that not all problems could be solved by the force of a wand. He was grateful now to have his grandfather's support whose political acumen had the entire Wizengamot tremble before him. He slowly nodded his head in acceptance. Seen this Arcturus spoke
"Now before venture to the subject of the boy, it is imperative that you familiarise yourself with wizarding politics if you hope on guiding young Mr Potter. Hence, from now itself I will start teaching you all that I know of the Blacks, the wizarding politics, and the secrets of all and whatever I can tell you, after all we cannot have an unprepared Lord Black."
Knowing that what was said was right, Sirius nodded his head and settles down in an comfortable chair in front of his grandfather's portrait eager to soak in whatever was told to him. There was a time when a younger Sirius would have ran away from such lessons, but he now knew that he needed these tools at his disposal to help Harry.
[Break]
It was late afternoon when Harry finally woke up well rested and recovered. The potions he had taken last night granting him a peaceful sleep while his body healed. He looked around to find the hospital wing empty except for Madam Pomfrey who seemed to be busy in the far end hustling around filling and labelling various glass flasks. Perhaps she was sorting the potions according to the infirmary's inventory. The thought of potions made him make a face the bitter aftertaste of last night still not having left his mouth. He thought better against alerting the healer and just laid in the bed
As he lay there staring up at the white ceiling, contemplating his situation, his parents word echoed in his mind. They were proud of him, how happy he was to finally hear that. The orphaned boy who lived under the stairs at Dursley's had earned to even gain a single compliment. Now hearing his parents praise him had filled heart with happy emotions.
As his thoughts focused on his father's words, a realization sunk in. He thought about how his father had told him to live up to his fullest potential, to never hold back, to grow as a man. The small boy in him had always yearned to have a father like figure say it to him. When he was a child and had outperformed Dudley in anything, be it academics or a simple running race he was severely punished by his uncle and aunt not to mention bullied by Dudley and his gang. This had led him to always perform mediocre and hold back in hope of not getting hurt.
When he had first arrived at Hogwarts he had stuck to that habit, hoping he would not displease anyone. He wanted to be accepted and loved, like any child depraved of it for his entire childhood would. Hence, when Ron had asked him to play chess or just goof around when he should have been working on his schoolwork, he never said no, hoping that he would not loose the first friend he had made in the magical worlds, perhaps his first friend till date. He knew he was exceptionally good at practical magic, in fact much better than all of his classmates. Whenever a new spell was taught he could effortlessly learn it and was always the first to get it right. He never had to strain his magic nor his mind to perform all the spells taught, they came as easily to him as fish to water.
But then he had befriended Hermione. To say the girl was academically competitive was an understatement. She was overbearing at best. She always felt the need to get each and every spell right first. When he had outperformed her on the practical portion of the classes, he had noticed the look she had in her eyes, that slight glint of jealousy was easily noticeable to boy who had became a bit to aware of his surrounding thanks to the Harry Huntings carried out by Dudley and his gang. Sure she had praised him, but he could hear the falseness in her voice. The girl he knew not why always thought of herself as better than others, and had no hold showing it off like she did may a times with instructing Ron and him on the simplest of things. This had led to him holding back his performance again, in hope of not loosing her friendship and hurting her.
He had always sailed by in the exams standing somewhere in the middle order of the class, happy by just attending the lessons. He had never curiously pondered over magic but was just happy to do it. Never had he wondered how magic worked, what were the spells actually. Never had he dug in the Hogwarts library trying to find answers to these questions in the magical theories. Somehow he had accepted what was served and never questioned how was it cooked. He had locked away his curiosity in fear of alienating those around him. He had became complacent, accepting what he got as his fate rather than trying to forge his own destiny.
As he thought all this, his thought wondered back to parents. His teachers had always expressed how intelligent and exceptionally talented they were. His mother was a exceptional at charms and potions and was often referred to as the brightest witch of her age. His father was a prodigy at transfiguration and dulling. Now that he looked back at what je had achieved a sour taste made its way into his mouth. Academically he was average. Sure he had some life threatening experience and face great threats, but each time he survived by a combination of fool headed bravery and sheer luck and not his talent and skill at magic.
As he thought of all this, his parents parting word left a mark on his mind. No more of this he thought. No more was he to be complacent, weak and average. He would do his best to be the best goddamn wizard possible. No more holding back. No more fear of loosing people. If people left him, just because he cared to better himself well that was their loss not his. He swore to himself that he would train, he would work hard and learn all about magic he could. He resolved to be never unprepared and base wins just on chance.
As he thought all this, he finally came to a choice. He chose to believe what Death had told him. If he was a Peverell, then he would do all in his power to live up to their legacy. Now he needed a plan of action.
He remembered Death's advice. He needed to visit Gringotts the first thing to know more about his ancestry. Perhaps he could find his further guidance in there. So, he decided to visit Gringotts the first thing when holidays began this summer.
He needed to plan on how to achieve it. He knew Dumbledore would not heed to his requests to not stay at the Dursley's nor would he give Harry permission to visit Diagon ally. He hoped he would find out someway. Perhaps he could convince the Dursleys to allow him to visit Diagon alley. That could be negotiated. A few mentions of his mass murderer of godfather should placate them enough for Harry to find a way out. Harry hated using Sirius name in such a way but knew it would keep the Dursleys in line and allow him some freedom.
A sudden noise of grumbling from his stomach made him realise jus how hungry he was. He got up from his bed and reached out for his glasses and wand.
As he grasped his wand, it felt a bit strange like something was off with his wand. It didn't feel just right like it always did. It still felt warm in his hands and he could feel his magic humming through the wand ready to be casted, but somehow his gut felt as if the reaction of his magic to the wand had changed. It still felt warm but it was not the same warmness he had grown accustomed to for years when he had grasped the wand. Putting the strangeness away thinking of it as him still being a bit disoriented after the recent events and his hunger, Harry moved to step out of the bed.
Just as he was about to hop of the bed, Madam Pomfrey rushed in with a stern look on her face.
"Mr Potter didn't I advice you against getting of the bed" she intoned.
"I know Madam Pomfrey, but I feel much better now and I am also a bit hungry, so I thought I could make my way to the great hall just in time for dinner." Harry said now truly been tired of having to stay in the hospital wing any longer.
"Well let me be the judge of whether you can leave or not" said Madam Pomfrey as she cast multiple diagnostic spells at him. After being satisfied of the results she spoke.
"Hmm, you seem to have recovered fully and there are no lingering effects of magical exhaustion."
"See, so can I leave now? " Harry jumped in not wanting too loose any chance of him leaving the hospital wing.
"Yes you can, but on a few conditions, first you will report to me at least once a day for next two days without fail and second you must take all the potions I give you for the next two days without fail too. And know that I will know if you fail to take any of these. " Saying this she summoned a few potions and handed them to him.
Harry made a face at the potions but not wanting to loose the opportunity to leave the hospital wing that he had been given he quickly agreed nodding his head.
"Thank You Madam Pomfrey! " He exclaimed cheerfully as he quickly ran out of the infirmary the potions she had given him now tucked away in a bag he had grabbed of the nightstand.
Madam Pomfrey shook her head at the boy's antics and went back to complete her work.
As Harry made way out of the infirmary, he realized that he still had about an hour till the dinner began in great hall. He thought on what he could do. Sure, he could go back to dorm and meet his friends, but he also had the impeding meeting with Dumbledore that he knew he would have to have sooner or later. Deciding that he better get done with meeting Dumbledore. And hence slowly he made his way to the headmaster's office.
A/N –
The third chapter is done. Arcturus Black will play a vital role in guiding Harry and Sirius in the arena of wizarding politics.
The next chapter will have the talk between Harry and Dumbledore. Be ready for quite a few surprises.
Please do leave a review.
Thanks for reading,
lordgreencryztalz.
