Avalon - Chapter 3 - Old Foes
Magic
Helga watched as Harry crossed the grounds towards the greenhouse in which she was waiting and watched him curiously. Over the past few days, each of them had visited the boy frequently to ensure he was holding up under the circumstances.
Of course, it would take considerable time for him to adjust, but now that he seemed to be physically recovered from his ordeal, there was no reason to delay assimilating him into his new life any longer.
She offered him a smile as he spotted her and he returned it, though his own didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Still, despite how he was feeling about what had befallen him, he’d proven to be nothing but polite and respectful to each of the Founders.
Helga found that he had a rather dry sense of humour, and although he often mentioned things that she or others had no understanding of, he patiently explained each point of interest with great patience.
“Good morning, Harry,” Helga greeted him. “How are you today?”
“I’ve certainly been worse,” he replied, offering her a weak smile.
It pained her to see the young man struggling, and Helga knew it would do him well to have something to distract his mind from his plight.
“I understand,” she returned empathetically. “Come, let us have discuss your understanding of some of the things I am considered quite the authority on. From there, we can decide where best to start with your education.”
Harry nodded and entered the greenhouse where a more genuine smile crested his lips.
“You have fond memories of working with plants?”
“Some,” Harry answered, “and others not so fond. One of my friends almost got throttled by Devil’s Snare and another did not secure his earmuffs tight enough and fainted from the cry of a juvenile Mandrake.”
Helga chuckled amusedly.
“It happens all the time,” she said wistfully. “Well, as I’m sure you’ve deduced, I tend to the greenhouses here, and teach classes on the many wonderful and dangerous plants you may come across in the wizarding world.”
“Is there any reason you chose plants?” Harry asked.
Helga smiled sadly.
“My husband passed away some years ago now, and I decided that I would like to become more proficient in healing. Magical plants are at the very forefront in the field.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Harry said sincerely.
“It is quite alright,” Helga responded. “We had some wonderful years together, and he gave me three children. Each of them travel the world on their own magical journeys, but they visit often enough that I do not have to miss them so terribly. Anyway, magical plants are only one interest of mine. I also instruct the students in the study of Arithmancy, Healing Magicks, Toxicology, and Runic Languages.”
“That is a lot of subjects,” Harry murmured. “I’ve only studied Herbology.”
“Then I expect we will have much work to do, should you prove to be competent or show particular talent in any of the others. Do not look so worried, Harry, no one is forced to study anything they do not have an affinity for.”
“There are no compulsory lessons?”
Helga frowned as she shook her head.
“What good is it trying to learn something you either have no interest in, or are particularly poor at? Here at Hogwarts, we believe that everyone has their own magical journey ahead of them, and we wish to see our students thrive in whatever they wish to do. Of course, every subject on offer can be useful in its own way. Were there compulsory subjects for you?”
Harry nodded.
“Most of them, but some of what you mentioned wasn’t even taught. Neither Toxicology nor Healing Magicks were the electives.”
“No Healing?” Helga gasped. “What would you do if you were sick or injured?”
“Go to the Hospital Wing,” Harry answered with a shrug. “Or St Mungo’s if it was really bad.”
“St Mungo’s?”
“A hospital,” Harry explained. “It’s a building were lots of different types of Healers work.”
“How ingenious,” Helga mused aloud. “Like the medical bay, but bigger?”
“Exactly.”
Helga hummed thoughtfully before shaking her head.
“Let us get an understanding of your knowledge, Harry,” she suggested. “Do not worry if there is something you are unsure of. Just do your best.”
Harry nodded nervously and Helga offered him an encouraging smile before placing a stick on the table in front of him.
“Can you tell me what this is?”
(Break)
“Why are there so many people here?” Arthur asked worriedly.
“They seek the counsel of their king,” Myrddin explained. “Your people will come to you for advice, Arthur.”
“But I don’t know what to say or do.”
“You will learn,” Myrddin assured him. “Wisdom comes with experience and you gain experience by making mistakes and triumphing. Your people do not expect perfection, Arthur, but fairness and an opportunity to live well.”
Arthur nodded his understanding and offered two shabbily dressed men a smile as he beckoned them forward.
“How may I serve you?” he asked.
Both men were taken aback by the humble way in which the young king spoke to them, but after a moment, one of them cleared his throat.
“This man is trespassing on my land!” he said irritably. “He is allowing his livestock to graze on my field.”
“Is this true?” Arthur asked the other.
“It is, my king, but he has no livestock of his own and his pasture is being wasted. My beasts need the feed or we will all be without meat, milk, and skin for the next winter.”
Myrddin watched Arthur interestedly as he pondered the conundrum.
“It would have been right for you to seek permission before allowing your animals onto this man’s land,” he chided the second man gently. “However, I believe we can reach an accord. If you allow his livestock to graze on your land, you should receive compensation. One twentieth of your yield is to be given to your neighbour for use of his land, unless either of you have an alternative agreement you wish to put forth.”
The landowner nodded.
“One twentieth is fair,” he agreed. “I will even repair the fences and provide dogs to guard the livestock from predators.”
The first man hummed before offering his hand.
“I accept the terms.”
After another short exchange with Arthur, the two men left, making way for the others in the area he sought the judgement of their king.
Myrddin merely nodded approvingly as Arthur looked towards him for clarification that he’d done right by the men, though his expression of relief faded as he realised many others remained waiting beyond the doors of the Great Hall of Camelot.
The boy was learning and doing so quickly.
They had not long arrived at Camelot and Arthur was already proving his mettle. The road ahead of him would be full of difficult decisions, much harder than those he’d already been faced, but Myrddin had faith in the young king.
The same, however, could not be said for the problems occupying his own mind.
Still, the stars were not clear.
Night after night, Myrddin would consult them in the hope that they would reveal more of what was to come, but they remained as blurred and silent as ever.
All he ever seemed to see was the blood red dot in the far distance, indicating that war was indeed on the horizon.
That was why he was here.
He’d taken the short journey from the castle to the lake a dozen or so leagues away with the intention of consulting the only other who might be able to offer him guidance, though he was not anticipating that they would be so forthcoming.
Myrddin had first made the acquaintance of the Lady of the Lake some years prior, and although it had been the stars that had prompted his first steps, it was that fateful meeting with woman that had made his stride more purposeful towards what he saw for the world in the coming years.
“I know you are there,” he murmured from beneath his hood. “I can feel your lingering presence.”
As though he had summoned her, the surface of the lake broke only a short distance away, revealing the impossibly pale woman.
For several moments, she simply stared at him with her penetrating gaze, but Myrddin did not flinch and nor did he as she glided across the water towards him.
“You grow stronger, Myrddin,” she said.
“With every passing day.”
Her eyes roamed over him and she nodded.
“There is nothing else I can tell you.”
“But you have the answers I seek.”
“Perhaps.”
“Then why can you not tell me what I need to know? It was you that set me on this path.”
“You chose this path,” the Lady corrected. “I gave you my guidance and you made of it what you wished.”
“So, it is you that intends to intervene against me, against the rightful king.”
The Lady shook her head.
“I cannot. It is the task of another.”
“But you chose him,” Myrddin returned, narrowing his eyes. “Do not lie to me.”
“I have no intention of being dishonest. Yes, I chose him, but he was already chosen for another task.”
“Who is he?”
“I cannot say.”
“Cannot or will not?”
The Lady looked towards the sky.
“All remains unclear,” she said ominously. “You have chosen your path and it remains full of uncertainty.”
“Arthur will be king!”
“Perhaps.”
Before Myrddin could utter another word, she sunk into the lake from whence she came and he no longer felt her presence amongst the lapping water on the shore.
With a shake of his head, Myrddin turned away, no closer to any of the answers he sought and back on a path of uncertainty which had not always been so.
Before he saw the message of the storm, it had all been as clear as day.
Arthur would conquer the fractured lands of Britain, uniting all people under his banner with Myrddin at his side.
Now, all he saw was the promise of violence, death, and further disruption ahead.
Why the Lady had seemingly turned her back on his vision, Myrddin knew not, but having convened with her once more, he found that his mind was no less burdened by the uncertainty ahead of him.
(Break)
Harry looked back towards the greenhouse he had exited and shook his head.
He didn’t believe he’d given a terrible showing of his knowledge, though Helga seemed disappointed by his admission that he’d not chosen Ancient Runes and Arithmancy because they seemed challenging.
“You should always strive for excellence, Harry. It is always preferable to fail and know your limits than never trying to push them. Do you think I have succeeded at everything I have attempted? I can assure you, I have experienced more failure than success throughout the years.”
Although the woman had been chastising him, it had not been done in a condescending way. Helga. Harry found, was just about the kindest person he’d ever met, even when expressing her disapproval.
Nonetheless, her kindly nature had not prevented her from putting him through his paces, and Harry quickly realised that just because he’d never studied something in the classroom, that didn’t mean he shouldn’t at least have a basic knowledge of the subject at hand.
Helga had promised him that he would gain that and much more under her tutelage.
What she meant by that remained to be seen, but he wasn’t dreading spending more time with her.
Now, however, his focus was firmly on his next meeting, and this one he suspected would be more mentally taxing than what he had just endured.
Helga had warned him of Rowena’s expectations, and Harry only expected that he would fall short of them.
Still, there was no avoiding it, and as he made his way through the corridors of the oddly empty castle, his pace slowed more and more until he reached the fifth floor.
“Come in, Harry,” Rowena called before he could knock at the door to her office.
Entering, he found almost exactly what he’d expected.
All of the walls were lined with row upon row of books, and in the very centre of the room was a desk that Rowena was sitting behind. Her hands were neatly folded in front of her and she eyed him curiously for a moment.
“Did Helga try to frighten you?” she sighed amusedly.
“She might have made a comment or two,” Harry answered.
Rowena tutted and gestured for him to take a seat.
“I may not be as jovial as you will often find Helga, but I am not quite the taskmasters that both Godric and Salazar will prove to be. You will see that for yourself in due course. Now, with this being our first meeting together, I would just like us to discuss magic, the things you enjoy and the things you do not. Tell me, Harry, what does magic mean to you?”
It was not a question he expected to be asked, nor one that he’d ever pondered, though when he did, it did not take him long to utter a single word.
“Freedom.”
“Freedom?”
Harry nodded.
“Before I knew I was a wizard, I felt trapped and that I didn’t belong. That feeling always followed me around, but the day I got my Hogwarts letter, that changed. For better and worse, I suppose. I was always told that I was a freak, that I was worthless, but when I entered the magical world, I found exactly where I belong, even if it has been mostly cruel to me.”
Rowena adopted a look of sadness before reaching across the desk and squeezing his hand.
“That is an in-depth answer for one so young, and not one I was expecting. We will revisit that when the time is right, but what about magic? Forget everything else and just focus on your magic. What does it mean to you? Close your eyes and speak the first words that come to mind. Feel your magic, Harry.”
He did so, and although he couldn’t quite grasp what she meant by feeing his magic, Harry knew what it meant to him beyond his freedom from Privet Drive and the misery it had brought him.
“Protection, safety…”
He broke off, uncertain whether he should proceed with his trail of thoughts.
“Go on,” Rowena urged.
“Justice and vengeance.”
He kept his eyes closed for a moment, unsure on how he should feel about the final two things that had sprung to mind.
“There is nothing wrong with how you feel, Harry,” Rowena assured him. “From what you have shared with us, I would be more worried if you did not have a desire for both. You watched your mother being murdered in front of you, and you were powerless to stop it. It is only natural that you would want to right the wrongs done to you.”
“To them,” Harry corrected. “As much as I want it for myself, it is my parents who deserve the justice.”
Rowena offered him a smile.
“And that already makes you a better person than most could profess to be. It shows a selflessness seldom seen.”
“But isn’t it still wrong?”
Rowena frowned thoughtfully for a moment.
“I don’t believe so,” she replied. “If there were not those in the world who were there to right the wrongs for those that couldn’t, what kind of existence would we have? People failed you and your parents, Harry, and they have continued to fail you throughout your life. I do not wish to speak ill of those you may look up to, but it doesn’t seem that anyone has been there when you needed it most. You have been left to your own devices to handle all that has been thrown at you, and although I remain unaware of much you have faced, it is you that has overcome the adversity.”
Harry nodded and swallowed deeply.
As much as Ron, Hermione, Dumbledore, and Sirius had been there for him, much of what he’d faced had been done alone.
“Let us move on,” Rowena suggested. “We can come always come back to this. What I want to do is test your magical knowledge and see what you are already capable of using certain branches of magic. We will begin with some simple Charms and progress from there. Wand out, Harry.”
He drew it and realised that this was all he had left of the life he’d eft behind, save for the knife Sirius had gifted him for Christmas.
“Now, I want you to cast an illumination charm, starting from a dim light and making it grow to be as bright as you possibly can.”
Harry did so, and by the time he’d reached the maximum brightness, he had to close his eyes to prevent blinding himself.
Evidently, Rowena had done the same and when he ended the spell, she nodded approvingly.
“That is exceptional control,” she praised, “and you certainly are not lacking when it comes to how much power you can call upon. That is something we will continue to work on. For now, I’d like for you to levitate your chair for me.”
(Break)
“Accio!”
She frowned as nothing happened before pushing her thick, dark hair out of her face.
“ACCIO!”
Morgana screamed as the acorn shot towards her, moving her head out of the path of the projectile.
“Maybe I should use something softer,” she groaned.
Nonetheless, summoning it from more than a few hundred feet away was proving to be more challenging than she’d expected, and catching anything hurtling towards her at such speed, nigh on impossible.
Her frown deepened at the thought.
The boy she’d seen with Godric had done both so casually, and from much further away than Morgana had managed thus far.
She grudgingly admitted that is was impressive, but she was not one to be outdone by anyone.
Banishing the acorn into the depths of the forest once more, she pointed her wand towards the trees.
“ACCIO!”
For only a second, she thought nothing had happened, and then she heard it, though this time she failed to avoid the acorn. It hit her on the leg, and Morgana groaned as she hopped around the clearing near her home, cursing under her breath.
“It’s a stupid thing anyway,” she grumbled, taking a seat on a nearby log to check her injury.
It would certainly leave a bruise, but already, a large welt was forming on her leg and she huffed irritably. It wasn’t easy living out in the forest.
She’d learned to fend for herself against the many creatures she shared the land with, and finding food wasn’t much of a problem, but protection herself against the elements and avoiding inevitable illnesses and injuries had become part of her daily routine.
This one, however, was her own doing, and with another muttered curse, she reached for the bag of salves she kept in a shrunken bag in her pocket.
So what if she wasn’t particularly gifted at summoning and catching things moving at impossible speeds. Morgana was a brilliant witch in her own right, and so few could hope to come close to matching her in what her magic was more in tune with.
Still, she found it curious that the boy she’d seen was evidently so proficient in what was a rather simple spell. Morgana had never seen anyone summon something from so far away and certainly not be able to snatch it out of the air so seemingly easily.
Who was the boy she’d seen?
He certainly had not been a student during her time in the castle.
With a shake of her head, she applied the sale she’d retrieved from her bag to her leg and breathed a sigh of relief.
It would indeed still bruise, but the worst of it was over now.
(Break)
He’d watched from a distance as Harry had left the greenhouse, and Salazar suspected that by now, he would have finished his time with Rowena.
What he knew of Harry’s story was saddening.
It was clear that much of his life had been a struggle, and he did a poor job at hiding it.
Although he’d seen flashes of determination, warmth, and strength in his gaze, for the most part his eyes spoke of hardship, loneliness, and melancholy, in which one so young should never have experienced.
Only having known the boy a few days but having visited him regularly whilst he rested, Salazar felt a protectiveness over Harry developing.
Perhaps it was that he merely wanted to protect him from the horrors of the world, or that there was something of a kinship between them. Not by blood, of course, but the similarities could not be ignored.
Harry had been shaped by all that had befallen him, much of which pertained to his own descendant.
Salazar would not shoulder the guilt of Tom Riddle’s actions, but he could not deny the sense of responsibility he had for the boy who’d come to them under the oddest of circumstances.
Harry being a parselmouth was certainly not something he’d expected, and how such a thing had occurred without a blood connection was rather troubling.
Having consulted every work in his collection that may offer something of an explanation with no luck, Salazar was at a loss as to what could’ve occurred to produce such a phenomenon, but he was determined to discover the truth of all that had happened the night Harry’s parents were murdered.
He was certain that the answer lie in that singular event and all that led to it.
Before being able to ponder it, however, he needed Harry to open up to him.
Leaning back in his chair, Salazar scratched his chin thoughtfully.
Something unheard of had happened that night.
Harry had survived the impossible, and there was not a thing that should’ve been able to prevent his inevitable death.
It was puzzling to say the least.
Shaking his head, Salazar shifted his attention to the several brews bubbling away in the cauldrons.
Harry had already spoken of his apparent ineptitude when it came to Potions, and Salazar idly wondered if he truly was as terrible as he claimed, or that he’d simply had poor instruction.
He would find out soon enough, among the many other things he hoped to learn during his impending assessment of the boy.
(Break)
Godric chuckled amusedly as Harry entered the room on the third floor he’d arranged to meet the boy. He all but flung himself into one of the chairs and shook his head tiredly.
“I expect you’ve had quite the morning.”
“You can say that again.”
“Rowena can be quite the taskmaster, but I’m afraid your day has only truly begun. She may drain you mentally, but with me, you will get a mix of both mental and physical work. How was your time with Helga?”
“Interesting,” Harry answered. “She had me identifying different types of plants, poisons, and antidotes. After that, I embarrassed myself demonstrating my lack of knowledge in Arithmancy and Runic Studies.”
Godric offered him a look of sympathy.
“Well, both are exceedingly important studies, but no more so than anything else on offer at Hogwarts. I suspect you and I will be working together a lot.”
“Why?” Harry asked curiously.
“Because what I teach will be most useful to you in the coming years, Harry. Under me, you will study transformative magic, various types of combat magic, and magical creatures, among any other things I believe will benefit you.”
“Not too much then,” Harry snorted.
Godric grinned.
“It will be worth it,” he assured the boy. “There will be times you despise me, and I will say this only once. It will not be easy. I will push you far beyond any limits you believe you have, but I will do so with the best of intentions. If you truly are expected to stop Myrddin, you will need to become more than you ever anticipated.”
Harry frowned.
“Who is Myrddin?” he asked. “I know that he was a student here but…”
He broke off.
“Myrddin is a man that I fear lost his way some years ago. He was a most excellent student who wishes to see our world and the muggle as one. In his pursuit of this, he has manipulated things he should not be meddling with, and now acts as an adviser for a king he has installed via his machinations. He is determined to see Arthur on a throne to oversee the entirety of Britain.”
After a moment of pondering what Godric had said, Harry’s eyes widened.
“King Arthur?” he whispered. “The King Arthur!”
“I believe that is the name he mentioned to Rowena.”
Harry nodded before laughing humourlessly.
“Merlin. I’m expected to stop Merlin?”
“You know of him?” Godric asked curiously.
Harry looked at him as tough he’d grown a second head.
“Merlin is considered by most to be the greatest wizard to ever live! There’s not a person I have ever met who hasn’t spoken highly of him. Wait, if I’m supposed to stop him, doesn’t that make me the bad person in all of this?”
Godric was taken aback by what he’d heard.
“Where you come from, Harry, do muggles and magicals live in harmony?”
Harry shook his head.
“No, we live in secret under the Statute of Secrecy that is enforced by the Ministry of Magic. Magicals are not allowed to perform magic in front of muggles.”
“Ministry of Magic?” Godric asked confusedly before shaking his head. “Why aren’t we allowed to use magic in front of muggles?”
“I don’t know,” Harry murmured. “It’s been that way for hundreds of years, but I think it had something to do with wizards interfering with muggle affairs and us being persecuted by them.”
“Which is exactly what Myrddin is doing know and what we fear happening. Muggles are bloodthirsty, Harry, and will only become more so. With each passing year, their population increases. Already, we are significantly outnumbered by them, and their weaponry becomes more destructive. Even a wizard can be killed with an arrow.”
Harry had become rather pale of the course of the last few moments, and he looked positively alarmed the more he seemed to consider what they were discussing.
“It becomes about keeping us safe,” he murmured.
“Keeping us safe?”
Harry nodded thoughtfully.
“Where I’m from, the world is very different. Swords, bows and arrows and all the things you worry about are no longer used. Weapons are different and much more dangerous. Just a single bomb from the muggles could wipe out the entirety of Diagon Alley.”
“A bomb?” Godric asked.
“It’s something they usually drop from aeroplanes that explode on impact, big explosions. I learnt about them whilst I was at muggle school.”
“They have weapons like that?” Godric gasped.
“Well, not here,” Harry assured him, “but they will one day.”
It was a troubling revelation.
“I can’t say I’ve paid much attention in History of Magic,” Harry continued sheepishly, “but the Statute of Secrecy must’ve been put in place to protect both us and muggles from one another. It is the only thing that makes sense.”
Godric released a deep breath.
“It would seem so,” he agreed. “I do not usually tend to believe in such things as higher powers, but there is a reason you were brought here, Harry. If what you say is true about the circumstances surrounding your arrival, then the task ahead of you is of paramount importance. Perhaps you are to ensure the world you know comes to be, or maybe you are to prevent something from happening. I cannot say for certain, but you were chosen.”
“I wish I wasn’t,” Harry grumbled. “I couldn’t even stop Voldemort. How am I supposed to stop Merlin?”
“By preparing for that eventuality,” Godric answered. “You are certainly in the right place for that.”
Harry shook his head almost hopelessly and Godric gave his shoulder a squeeze.
“Do not think of the destination, Harry,” he urged. “Instead, focus on the journey that will take you there. As things are, you are not ready to face such a man in any capacity, but if a higher power brought you here, then she believes you have the ability to succeed, even if you can’t see it for yourself. Think of this as your new life and focus on your education. I expect everything else will fall into place and come to be when the time is right.”
The boy seemed uncertain, but he nodded, nonetheless.
“Good,” Godric praised. “Now, I can teach you much. You will learn to wield your magic in the deadliest of fashion, and a blade with equal effectiveness. We will discuss the ins and outs of magic, what has shaped you into what you are now, and what we can do for you to become the man you need to be. My expectations will be high and your time with me will not be easy. Nothing in life worth having or achieving is easily done. So, do you believe you can step up to the challenge?”
“What choice do I have?” Harry snorted.
“Apparently very little,” Godric sighed. “Come, let us waste no time. Wand out, Harry. Let us begin your journey. We will start with seeing how well you aim your spells.”
With a wave of his own wand, Godric set up a series of targets, some still and some moving before watching Harry set to work in destroying them.
When the last one shattered under the impact of a curse, he nodded.
“You did well,” he said sincerely. “It took a couple of attempts on a few of them, but I have seen much worse. By the time I am finished with you, you’ll take the whiskers off a cat at fifty paces. Now, show me what you have, Harry. I want to see your offensive arsenal.”
There proved to be much less than Godric had hoped, though what Harry did offer he did so quite brilliantly.
“Have you not learned much offensive magic for combat or duelling?”
Harry shook his head.
“We had a duelling club once, but it didn’t last long,” he explained. “Outside of that, we weren’t allowed to duel at Hogwarts.”
Godric was perplexed by the revelation.
Every witch and wizard should be taught to defend themselves.
“Well, I can only say that your magical education has been sorely lacking, Harry,” he sighed, “but in a way, it might prove to be to your benefit. We will not have to spend time correcting poor habits you may have developed. Worry not, we will fix the shortcomings.”
Harry nodded and almost looked to be disappointed in himself, but Godric saw no reason for him to be. What the boy had shown was promising, perhaps more so than he believed.
“What next?” Harry asked, adopting the often-fleeting expression of determination that crossed his features.
Godric nodded approvingly.
“We will take a break from using your wand,” he decided. “You mentioned that swords have been absent from your education. Do you have any experience in wielding one?”
Once more, Harry looked rather uneasy as he nodded.
“Only once,” he answered.
“Oh? It seems as though there is quite the story to that.”
“There is,” Harry confirmed.
“Well, I would be most interested in hearing it.”
Harry shook his head.
“I don’t think you will quite believe it,” he murmured.
Godric chuckled.
“Harry, I wouldn’t have believed much of what has happened these past days if I had not been here to witness it for myself.”
Harry nodded.
“Well, you might get quite the kick out of this,” he sighed.
He spoke, and Godric experienced a myriad of emotions as he did so ranging from utter disbelief to shock, sadness, and finally curiosity. As ever when it came to a story Harry was sharing, the boy had undoubtedly not disclosed everything, but for now, it didn’t matter.
What he had described was a tale of bravery in a situation so very few could ever hope to escape from.
“A basilisk,” Godric whispered.
Harry nodded as he rolled his sleeve up and pointed to the puckered scar on his right arm.
“It bit you!”
Godric’s mind drifted back to the conversation in the medical bay where he and the other Founders had discussed Harry’s scars. Both Rowena and Helga had said that the wound had been caused by something dangerously venomous, but a basilisk?
“How did you survive?” he asked.
Harry chuckled almost dismissively.
“I had a phoenix on hand,” he answered. “Fawkes, he was Dumbledore’s phoenix. He’s the one who brought me the hat with your sword inside. The basilisk bit me, and his tears healed the wound.”
“Unbelievable,” Godric choked. “You were bitten by a basilisk and healed by a phoenix?”
“Is that a bad thing?” Harry asked concernedly.
“On the contrary, it is quite the marvel. Your wand, it contains the feather of a phoenix?”
“It came from Fawkes.”
“It came from the very same phoenix. Now, that is either very fortunate or the makings of something much greater… What became of the basilisk? It must’ve been quite a large specimen, judging by the size of the wound.”
“It was,” Harry confirmed. “I killed it. I don’t know how big exactly, but it had to have been at least fifty feet.”
Godric chuckled humourlessly and conjured a seat for himself.
He felt the need to sit down and digest what he’d just heard.
“Do you remember us discussing your wand?”
Harry nodded.
“I remember you being displeased that I’d bought it from a wandmaker.”
“Indeed,” Godric confirmed, “but it is so very different now. I will need to ponder the matter the closely.”
It was quite the trivial and curious development, though not one to become prematurely excited about until he’d given it careful thought.
“Back to our assessment, Harry,” Godric decided. “So, you have something of experience using a sword. Let us see if you have the talent to truly wield one.”
(Break)
“What do you make of him thus far?” Salazar asked curiously.
“Well, his knowledge in the foundations of magic is lacking,” Helga answered honestly, “but he is far from being a stupid boy. He just doesn’t seem to have applied himself.”
Salazar hummed thoughtfully.
“Unsurprising given what we know of his upbringing,” he sighed. “I suspect Harry had given up hope of much living with his aunt and uncle. It would be enough to quash any ambition one might have. Rowena?”
“His knowledge is lacking,” she concurred, “but his practical ability is exceptional. He is talented, and even at his age, he is powerful, but he must be nurtured and pushed. He already has notable control over his magic, even without seeming to understand how he does it. I am eager to see what he can achieve under the right guidance and being motivated.”
“Interesting,” Salazar mused aloud. “So, what are your thoughts?”
“Truthfully, I believe he has the potential to be quite the wizard. The hard work will be getting him to believe it himself and instilling the habits needed for him to push through the limits he sets himself. I was not expecting him to demonstrate such ability so early on. He is rough around the edges, but when he is polished…”
She broke off and lost herself in her own thoughts.
“It will take work,” Helga spoke. “He must truly apply himself. There is only so much we can teach him, after all.”
“Then he will work for it,” Salazar declared. “I am keen to see him succeed.”
The others nodded and he shifted his attention to Godric as he entered the room with a thoughtful frown creasing his brow.
Salazar offered him a questioning look.
“He is brilliant,” his colleague whispered. “A born warrior through and through. Of course, he is far from being perfect, but the potential is there. Within five minutes of holding a sword, he was becoming comfortable. His instincts are sharp, but his body remains weak. I believe I can mould him into quite the man. It will take time, but Harry could be great.”
Salazar nodded
He would assess the boy for himself but much of what his companions spoke of was indeed positive.
“When can I expect him?”
“Shortly,” Godric answered with a grin. “I told him to take a short break to catch his breath and clean up.”
“Of course, I shouldn’t have expected less from you,” Salazar huffed good-naturedly. “Elrond, is there something I can help you with?”
“An urgent letter from the Wizard’s Council.” The man replied with a bow before handing the missive to Rowena.
She read it and the colour drained rapidly from her cheeks.
“What is it?” Salazar asked.
“Wraiths.”
Salazar felt his heart sink into his stomach.
It wasn’t often the vile creatures arrived on their shores, but when they did, they left a trail of devastation in their wake. So far, they had proven to be all but impossible to combat.
Enough fire would eventually deter them, but even the flames were mostly ineffective against such creatures.
Where they had come from, Salazar didn’t know, but they were as unnatural as anything he’d ever felt.
He vividly remembered the coldness that seeped into every fibre of his being when he was in their presence.
“Is something wrong?”
Harry had arrived and he’d evidently sensed the unease within the room.
“Wraiths,” Godric answered honestly. “Horrific creatures that feed on everything good around them. They attack muggles and magicals, leaving behind only a husk devoid of true life.”
Harry frowned.
“Do you mean Dementors?”
“Dementors?”
“They wear a cloak and suck people’s souls out. Everything feels cold when they are around, like all the happiness has gone from the world.”
“You know of them?”
Harry nodded.
“More than I’d bloody like to,” he grumbled. “I can’t feel them here,” he added, his frown deepening.
“They are in Northumbria,” Rowena explained. “The Wizard’s Council sent an urgent message informing us.”
“So, you’re leaving to get rid of them?”
Rowena nodded worriedly.
“We will,” she declared. “Not that it is easy.”
“You don’t know the Patronus Charm? That soon sends them off.”
“The Patronus Charm?” Salazar asked confusedly. “Are you saying there is a spell that can be used against them?”
Harry nodded.
“Harry, you must teach us,” Godric said urgently.
The boy looked rather uneasy at the prospect.
“It’s not an easy spell,” he murmured. “It took me the better part of a year with consistent practice to get it right. Most people can’t ever make the spell strong enough to make it work as it should.”
“Show us,” Salazar instructed.
With a shrug, Harry drew his wand and released a deep breath.
“Expecto Patronum.”
Instinctively, Salazar closed his eyes as a brilliant light erupted from the tip of his wand and filled the room with a pure warmth.
When he opened them, he gasped at the sight of the ethereal stag cantering amongst them.
It was like nothing else he’d ever seen, and he drew his own wand.
“Expecto Patronum,” he echoed.
Nothing happened and he looked at his wand expectantly.
“It’s not as simple as just saying the words,” Harry said apologetically. “I can teach you, but we don’t have time. You will have to take me with you.”
Salazar was not sure it was a good idea, but Godric nodded.
“Gather your things, just in case,” he urged. “Harry, you will stay by my side. If this works, you might just save many lives tonight.”
Salazar remained unconvinced, though he was more peeved that the spell had not worked for him. Still, once more, Harry was proving to be a very interesting young man, and if the spell did indeed work, it would be quite the revelation.