HPNSA - BOOK ONE

CHAPTER 2 – THE BLINDING TRUTH
TIMELINE: END OF 2ND YEAR – HALF WAY THROUGH 5TH




It was almost time to return home after another year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Harry, Ron and Hermione met at the Gryffindor common room to check their trunks and baggage, and make sure they hadn\'t forgotten anything. It was an uncommonly hot summer and though most were looking forward to their holidays in sunny beaches or cool summerhouses, Harry was more excited about their return to school in September. In truth, had he been given the choice, he would have stayed in Hogwarts all summer, every summer.

“Do you think Professor Lockhart will be all right?” Hermione asked.

“Who cares?” Ron said stuffing his Christmas socks deep inside his trunk. He was having trouble with it, not being very good at folding things or keeping his stuff tidy.

“I wonder who next year’s Defense against the Dark Arts teacher will be?” Harry said, taking the socks and other items out of Ron’s trunk. He was now finished with his packing and went over to help Ron with his, like he\'d always done.

“I hope it’s an Auror,” Ron said as he watched Harry fold his clothes neatly for him and tuck them away.

“I hope it’s someone who actually learned the Dark Arts,” Seamus said.

“I hope it’s not Professor Snape,” Neville said.

“Neville, why are you afraid of Professor Snape? He may be strict but he’s really not that scary,” Hermione said.

“Speak for yourself,” Ron said. “I hope it’s someone from the Ministry that Dad works with.”

Then someone entered the room, apparently a professor as the students all quieted down. It was Professor McGonagall and she had an urgent look on her face.

“Mr. Potter,” Professor McGonagall said, “Dumbledore would like a word with you before you leave.”

“Yes, Professor McGonagall.” Harry said. Harry followed McGonagall to the Headmaster’s office where Dumbledore waited for him.

“Headmaster, here is Harry Potter now.”

Dumbledore nodded and stood to meet Harry halfway. Professor McGonagall left them alone.

“You wanted to see me, Professor Dumbledore?” Harry said.

“Yes, my boy. I must tell you something you need to know before you go back home to your aunt and uncle’s house,” the Professor began, fixing his half-moon spectacles as they slowly dropped lower to the bridge of his nose. “I believe it’s about time you were informed of something about yourself. You’ll be, I believe, thirteen in July?”

“Yes, Professor.” Harry answered with a smile.

“Ahh, well…” Dumbledore nodded and smiled in return. “I want you to have this then.” He handed Harry a piece of very old parchment. It was tied with a burgundy velvet bow.

“What is it, Professor?” Harry asked.

“Open it.”

Harry untied the bow and unrolled the parchment. He was now looking at what seemed to be a certificate with his parents\' name on it. “\'Certificate of Live Birth.\' Mine, Professor?”

“Continue, Harry. I want you to continue reading to the bottom of the page,” Dumbledore said.

“\'This is a Certificate of Live Birth given this thirty-first day of July to Mr. James and Mrs. Lily Potter,\'” Harry read. “\'Name of child, Eleanor Marie Potter...\' Eleanor Marie Potter? I have a sister?” Harry asked, half expecting Dumbledore to say yes.

However, Dumbledore did not. Instead, Dumbledore turned away and said, “That was your initial Birth Certificate, Harry. The doctor that helped bring you into this world thought you were a girl.”

Suddenly the air became stiff around Harry as if some huge vacuum had slowly turned on and was sucking away the air around them. The answer to the question that had him baffled for many years was now in his hands. Dumbledore knew; then again was there ever a thing that he did not know? “What do you mean, Professor? How?”

“Lily and James thought they had a daughter. They were happy, very happy,” Dumbledore said. “It was Lily that gave you your name. When I heard the news, I immediately set off to see them both, and there you were, all in pink and looking very fine. Except when I gave my gift, a charm that protects baby girls...” Dumbledore took out three amulets -- one was shaped like a hexagon with purple swirling smoke inside, the other was shaped like a triangle with blue swirling smoke inside, the other was a teardrop-shaped one with gray swirling smoke inside. They all hung from silver chains and Harry took them. Only one of them changed colour –- the teardrop.

“Ah, you see?” Dumbledore said, seeing the pendant change to a bright golden yellow. “That’s what happened. No other pendant would work.”

Harry’s eyes grew wide as he looked at the golden swirls changed from smoke to liquid then to solid gold. “What is this, Professor?”

“Bloodsin –- that’s what it’s called -- determines if you are a half-breed. When I took out the pendants, intending to give you Hellenah, the purple one, this one fell out, and when it touched your foot, that’s what happened. You are what the magical world calls... a Nymphrodite,” Dumbledore said.

“Nymphrodite!” Harry gasped. Finally a name; that was a start, he thought.

“Yes, Harry. A Nymphrodite.\" Then Dumbledore’s voice changed. “I warned your parents then, and I warn you now. The life of a Nymphrodite is not an easy one, and to be honest with you, Harry, wizards have not paid enough attention to these magical beings -- that’s why we have very little knowledge of them.” Dumbledore went back to his seat as though laden with a heavy burden. “What I do know, is that the Dark Lord must never find out that you are a Nymphrodite, Harry. And it is for this very reason why I warned your parents not to register you as one.”

Harry stared at Dumbledore, the parchment in his hands quivering. The old Professor seemed to have aged more as he sat there silently.

“I did not reveal this to you before because you were too young,” Dumbledore said. “But time runs too fast, it seems. There will be great changes in your life. You need to be prepared.”

“Thank you, Professor.” Harry said.

“Harry, burn the parchment,” Dumbledore said. Harry looked at it one last time, and then threw it into the fire.

***


Harry Potter was a Nymphrodite. What exactly a Nymphrodite was, Harry didn\'t quite know. Aside from the bare facts that were given to him by Dumbledore before he had left Hogwarts a little over a month ago, Harry didn\'t know anything about his kind. Just that he was not male, nor was he female. He was both, and that was supposed to be special. But he never felt special about it, and in fact this is what caused most of the unhappiness and misery he experienced in his life with the Dursleys.

That he\'d grown up in his aunt and uncle\'s house, slept in the cupboard under the stairs, and been raised with very little love and attention was a fact that almost all his friends at Hogwarts knew. However, it wasn’t the constant ridicule nor the beatings from his cousin Dudley and his friends at school nor the many days without food that he loathes the most.

Vernon had a half-brother named Lars that came to their house periodically and he was not like Aunt Marge who was also bad news. He was worse. He would abuse Harry sexually. One time he abused Harry so badly he was bed-ridden with a temperature for four days. Since no one seemed to care what Lars did to him, Harry would sometimes hide himself inside the cupboard for days. When he risked sneaking out to get some food at night, Lars would catch him, bring him to Dudley’s second bedroom where he would gag him, and molest him.

It was now August, just a few more weeks and he’d be back at Hogwarts, and luckily Lars has not showed his ugly face yet. Harry was trying to study A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot because they were given a large essay assignment through their holidays -– he had just finished one for Professor Snape. As he read on, he noticed that not once was there a mention about Nymphrodites in any of its pages. He has almost finished reading the book but no stories about one –- what they did, who they were, how many there were, if there are more of them alive -- not even the word Nymphrodite is recorded there.

“Hermione might know,” Harry thought, frustrated that he could not keep this to himself. The night wore on and so did his dismay, however the morning might prove better and so Harry decided to go to sleep.

***


The next day, as Harry prepared breakfast for the Dursleys and waited for his turn to get something to eat, Vernon made an announcement.

“Marge is coming over,” Vernon said. He placed a large piece of ham in his mouth.

“What about Lars?” Petunia asked.

“No, he’s not. He’s in jail, got into trouble for robbing a bank I think. He’s in America.”

Harry smiled while he washed the plates. A whole year without Lars! He wished that Lars got a life sentence or even the death sentence, but of course, that is too much to ask.

Though Aunt Marge was no party -- her visit almost cost him expulsion –- Harry still preferred her than the torment that he would have had to endure yet again, had it been Lars.

Harry now finds himself excitedly waiting for the beginning of September at the Leaky Cauldron. His heart raced at every shadow that looked like Ron. He missed him sorely all throughout summer; after the phone call he made to Harry’s house that resulted in more friction with the Dursleys, Harry had been longing to see his best friend again. He had planned to tell both him and Hermione what Dumbledore had told him about being a Nymphrodite.

They will certainly be able to help me unravel the mysteries behind this, he thought. Then he wondered if Ron\'s attitude toward him would change. Realizing Harry was not a boy might alienate Ron. He hated the idea; Hermione was good company, and he adored her, but to lose Ron was unthinkable.

September came and they all began their third year at Hogwarts. Harry decided to tell Hermione about it. She took the news calmly.

“Really?” Hermione said.

“Yes, and the thing is we know very little about them,” Harry whispered.

“I have heard of that term before, but only from the Slytherins. They mentioned it along with the Unicorns –- like they were used for something,” Hermione said.

“Used for something?” Harry echoed, grimacing a bit.

“Sorry,”

“I need to know more, Hermione. Dumbledore told me I should be prepared. I wonder if this has anything to do with Sirius Black.” Harry said, shuddering a bit at the thought that perhaps this Sirius Black was after him because he knew. The thought of Lars invaded his mind; to have another man, this time a wizard, after him for this almost made him throw up.

Hermione shrugged. Harry found that for every answer he got, more questions came out and this added to his frustrations. But Hermione promised to help him find the answers and he swore her to secrecy about it.

“Not even Ron?” she asked.

“Especially not Ron,” Harry answered. He saw Hermione give him a confused look. “I don’t think this kind of information would go over well with him. He might get, you know, all weird.”

Hermione helped him find information from the Slytherins about Nymphrodites. However, he found the best resource during his many trips to the library’s Restricted Section. He found a book entitled PERPETUA – A Collection of Beasts, Beings, and Magical Objects for Immortality edited by Svererajas Nerinde. It described Nymphrodites as, “Beings that possess the body of a man with the reproductive organ of a woman. They possess in themselves the Iranna –- a pearl-like sphere that makes anyone who takes it in immortal. Only one Nymphrodite may exist within one hundred years to avoid abuse of the harvest. No Nymphrodite has been recorded to experience love, enter into marriage, bear an offspring, or live beyond the age of sixteen. Most die in agony from the way the Iranna is harvested, and are hunted for this reason from the day they are born.” Harry gulped in horror.

As Harry read on, the information bought him more anxiety than relief. For one thing, he was described as a \'Magical Being,\' he has an ‘Iranna,\' which is ‘harvested’ like he was some kind of farm. Another is that because of this ‘Iranna,\' and what it does for those who eat it, he would be hunted from the day he was born, and might not make it past the age of sixteen because in extracting it from him, he is almost certain to die an agonizing death.

“Great!” he said, as he put the book back into its shelf. “Another reason to be paranoid!” He lurked inside the library for some time trying to understand and make something out of what his life was. Then he remembered something Dumbledore told him. Voldemort must never find out about him being a Nymphrodite. Now he knew why. The Iranna was surely one way to become immortal, and Voldemort was all for immortality. “If it’s not one thing, it’s another. One more damn curse!” he thought.

***

Fourth year for Harry began rather differently; he had a Godfather, Sirius Black, and the Dursleys were more afraid of him than ever, since he blew up Aunt Marge, and he was going to spend more time away from them as well. The biggest change he was most excited about was he’d get to spend more time with Ron.

Ron and Harry stayed at the Burrow on the day the rest of the family went to Diagon Alley to purchase schoolbooks and supplies, and prepared for the first day of school. The Quidditch World Cup fiasco had made them all jumpy since the Dark Mark was something they had not seen for many years.

“You want to play chess?” Ron asked.

“Not really,” Harry answered. He sat down on Ron’s bed with a flop; he then took out his kit and his firebolt. “Have you read up on potions already?” he remembered.

“No. You?” Ron said, putting away the chessboard.

“Nope. Maybe we should start on that now,” Harry said.

“All right,” Ron sighed. He took out his parchment, their book on Potions Grade 4, his inkbottle and a quill. Harry did the same.

After a while, Harry felt quite tired sitting on the bed reading the book so he lay on his stomach. Ron did the same thing and lay beside him. For some reason, Harry felt awkward having Ron by his side this close so he inched away a bit.

“What?” Ron said. His face showed how perplexed he was at Harry’s reaction.

“What?” Harry said, trying to hide the sudden tension he felt.

“Why’d you move away?” Ron then shifted his position to lean on his right side, looking at Harry with a bit of annoyance.

“I didn’t,” Harry said defensively. Then moved back closer to Ron.

Ron went back to lying on his stomach again. “What do you think this animal looks like?” He pointed his finger to the Thick Thorn-beak Skalk that roamed the northern Alps.

“Probably something like Dudley,” Harry said, laughing at the idea. “It surely sounds something like him. Thick! Thorn-beak! SKALK! What an ugly name!”

Ron roared in laughter, and for ages, he and Harry could not stop laughing. Then Ron lay on his back and Harry could not resist noticing how handsome his best friend was. He was taller and broader than he was before, his angular face, though freckled, complemented him more now than ever. He also wore his hair longer now and it had soft waves that framed his face. Then Harry stopped staring when he noticed that Ron was looking at him with a strange expression in his eyes.

“What?” Harry said, trying to swallow.

Ron did not answer. Instead he moved closer; Harry felt like there was a magnet moving Ron closer to him, while an anchor kept him in place. Ron was now a breath away and Harry found it difficult to speak, or even breathe; he wanted to say that someone might see them that they were not supposed to do this, but it was too late. Ron had placed his lips on Harry’s, sending electrifying bolts all over his body. For a moment, he was in oblivion; then they broke the kiss. Harry immediately stood, going red in the face as a tomato while Ron stayed on the bed, breathing hard. They both just stared at each other for a time trying to comprehend what had just happened. Harry could not stand the tension and left taking his Firebolt with him.

As soon as he was outside, he jumped on his Firebolt and as he soared through the air at incredible speed, he screamed. He felt ecstatic; Ron kissed him! He kissed him and it was okay! Something more magical than anything he had experienced before happened today and he could not believe it. He soared through the air, laughing wildly, screaming with joy! This was the first time he ever felt happy to be a Nymphrodite.