Heritage

Chapter 11

Harry removed the spell on his ears and pulled his hair back. Hermione snapped a picture. She tried to examine them, which wasn’t easy as Harry wouldn’t let her touch them. “They’re very sensitive,” he said with a blush and refused to elaborate. She made a few rough sketches beside her notes.

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“How many?” Hermione stood at the other end of the darkened corridor and held up three fingers.

“Three,” said Harry as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Hermione pulled out a quill and took down a few notes. Then she took out her wand and snuffed out the remaining candles.

“Now how many?” She held up fingers in the now virtually black corridor.

“Four.”

“Hmmm.”

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She blew a note on the whistle. Harry nodded and made a few marks on her parchment. She blew higher and higher notes and every time, Harry nodded.

Finally, she pulled a small silver whistle out of her pocket and blew on it. No sound could be heard, but Harry covered his ears and screamed in agony. “Bloody Hell!”

He snatched the whistle away, one hand still covering an ear. “What the bleeding hell did you do that for? What is this thing?”

Hermione stared at him incredulously. “A dog whistle.”

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“Dreams involving trees may represent your unconscious or your ‘mental space.’ If you are lost in the woods, it may be a reflection of feelings of confusion and lack of clear direction. The dark and threatening woods may represent the dark and unexplored areas of the psyche.”


Harry arched an eyebrow doubtfully. “I don’t think so.” He shook his head firmly. “I have been confused about who I am for the whole of my life. That’s nothing new.” Harry sighed. “Besides the trees weren’t dark, they were full of light.”


“Light,” Hermione flipped some pages, “Light is a very positive symbol. It represents enlightenment, the lifting of shadow, the acquisition of understanding and knowledge, and a positive force. Light always refers to consciousness. It may represent a well-lit journey through life, or simply a solution to a current problem.”


“I don’t want enlightenment. I want to figure out what the bleeding hell is going on with my body. And the only solution is want to my… journey,” Harry made quotation marks with his hands, “is the destruction of Voldemort and his followers.”


Hermione bit her lip in contemplation. “Strangers,” she began with a sigh. “The interpretation of seeing and interacting with a stranger, or strangers, in your dream depends on the details of your dream and on your personal belief system. The more modern approach to interpreting a dream with strangers in it is that they represent different sides or unfamiliar aspects of our personality.”


“Somehow I doubt that.” Harry leaned back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes squeezed shut. “This is useless. We’ll never find anything out this way. I can’t believe that you of all people even suggested dream analysis.”


“We have to investigate every possible avenue. Leave no stone unturned.” Hermione lectures patronizingly as she read further down the page. “Hmmm.” She murmured.


“Hmmm? What does hmmm mean?”

“Some Eastern cultures believe that strangers in your dreams are spirits from another dimension.” She looked up.


Leaning forward, Harry turned the book towards himself and examined the page. He looked up, his head cocked to the side as his eyes darted to hers.

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“Come on Hermione. You’ve been researching for weeks now. Do you know what’s wrong with me or not?


“Well, I have some ideas, but it’s too soon to tell. There are a lot of books in the restricted section. All I can say for certain is you should probably stop your forest visits.”


“What?” Harry turned to Hermione and shook his head vehemently. “No. Absolutely not.”


“But Harry,”


“I can’t stop Hermione. I need to be in the trees. Every time I’m around them I feel . . . at home.”

“Harry, what ever is happening to you, seems to get worse the more time you spend in the forest.”

“You don’t know that for certain. When all this started, I was nowhere near a forest. I was at the Dursley’s, in the middle of Surrey.\"

“Well, yes. That’s true, but…”

“Until you can figure out what’s wrong with me, I going to keep going back. I have to, Hermione.”

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~2 weeks later~

“Alright, what is so important that we had to miss dinner?” gripped Ron. Harry was stalking about the second floor lavatory like a caged lion.

“I think . . . I may know what’s happening to you . . . You probably want to sit down.”

rry rry folded his arms across his broad chest and stared at Hermione.

“Why don’t we just ask Dumbledore?” Hermione nervously wrung her hands. “He knows everything. Surely he’ll…”

“Hermione!” exclaimed Ginny, exasperated. “Just say it. What’s wrong with Harry?”

“I…I think he’s an elf.”

“An elf!” Harry laughed. “You think I’m a house-elf?!”

Ron covered his mouth, trying to smother his laughter, but his body shook from the effort. Ginny grabbed Harry’s arm and tried to bury her own laughter.

“I know it sounds absolutely mad, but you’ve sprouted pointed ears. How else would you explain that?”

“What about my sudden increase in height or my skin? It practically glows. House elves are tiny and ugly. How do explain that?”

“You’re not a house-elf. You’re a Quendi elf. They’re two completely different species. They’re like…” Hermione struggled for a way to explain it, “cats and catfish. They both have a similar physical feature, but that’s where the similarities end. Quendi elves and house-elves have nothing in common. They’re totally different species. In fact, the Quendi are supposed to be myth.”


“What do you mean ‘supposed to be’?” asked Ginny.

Hermione took a deep breath, to prepare for a speech or to summon her Gryffindor courage, one couldn’t be sure. “According to legend, Quendi elves were a race that once inhabited this world thousands of years ago. When humans kept multiplying and spreading over the world, they left this world for someplace called the Undying Lands.” Hermione stopped and wet her lips.


“The Quendi were a superior race of wise, immortal, unearthly beautiful creatures that lived in the forests. ‘One with the earth’, they were believed to have been able to tap into the very life force of the earth itself. They were able to communicate with nature and all forms of creatures.


“According to the books, they have very acute physical senses, far greater than that of humans. Sight, hearing, speed, agility, able to walk on any surface without leaving a mark … the list goes on.”


“On the surface, Harry’s still just like you and me. But I didn’t just do magical tests, I did some muggle tests as well. When I did a complete DNA workup on his blood, I got results that should be impossible.”

“Like what?” Ron asked curiously.

“Well,” She thumbed through the file. “All the tests showed a discrepancy in his bloodwork and brain wave patterns. His bloo mor more oxygen rich, his electrolytes are higher, there are a large number of T cells in his blood stream and his metabolism is faster.”


“The DNA tests also showed that there are some irregularities that I can’t explain. Human DNA is made up of four basic chemicals, thymine, adenine, cytosine, and guanine, which are mounted on long coiling strands of complex sugars and proteins. Harry’s DNA contains two additional unknown compounds and the support structures are laced with sodium and some type of phosphate.”


“What does that mean exactly?” Ginny cut in.

Hermione sighed and shook her head. “I don’t know. I used a Penetro Lux spell, it works like a muggle X-ray. His muscle density is at least 5 times that of a normal human. The increase in his stamina must be due to the unusual density of his muscle tissue, allowing him to run very fast for long periods of time. My theory is that he’s an elf, but it’s nothing I can prove one way or another.”


“Thank you, Hermione. You’ve been very helpful.” Harry said sarcastically and smirked at her.

Hermione smiled back and shook her head slightly. “Elves were considered…special, above the touch of a lowly human, but upon occasion…the two species did intermarry and…” a rosy blush crept up her face, “breed.” Hermione cleared her throat, “Which means it is possible that you are part elf.”


“This is insane.” Harry leapt from his chair and stalked around to the other end of the table. The others watched him with worried, anxious looks on their faces.

“I know. Why do you think it has taken me so long? I have gone over every possibility I can think of, but I just keep coming back to Quendi elves.”

“Alright.” Harry nervously ran a hand through his jet black hair. “Let’s pretend, just for a minute, that you haven’t gone completely nutters. And that somehow I am an … elf.” He choked out the last bit. “People don’t just become elves! It doesn’t make sense. A few months ago, I was perfectly normal.”


“That’s a good point,” answered Ron.

“Maybe I caught some magical virus or something.”

“A magical virus that causes a person to grow muscles and pointy ears?” asked Hermione in a very patronizing tone.

“We’ve seen stranger things over the years. Maybe…maybe someone cast a spell on me.” Harry absently rubbed the spot just below his collarbone. “Are you sure about this?”

“As sure as I can be without my evidence,” she said softly.

“I don’t know what’s more horrifying, the fact that it might be true or that it might not.” His voice wavered slightly as he thought about it.

“What’s that?” asked Ron curiously.

“What’s what?”

“That chain around your neck.”

Harry reached up and pulled out the necklace from under his sweater. “My birthday present from Remus.” As Harry stared at the sparkling crystal pendent in his hand, a dawning look of comprehension swept over his features. “This all started on my birthday. I was fine….until I put this on.” Harry started to lift it over his head when Hermione leapt up and stopped him.


“No Harry, don’t!” She pushed his hands down. “It might make things worse. Until we figure out what this thing is and what it’s doing to you, we can’t risk it.”


“I’ll bet Remus knows what it means.” Ron muttered softly.

“What?” Harry turned to look questioningly at Ron.

“Your dad gave that necklace to your mom. It was part of his family. Remus was one of his best friends. if your dad told anyone that he was part elf, it would have been Remus. Write to him. He’ll come if you ask.”