Gilded Soul

Chapter 22 Revelations

“Well, this clears up a few things.” Dumbledore gazed over his teacup at Harry and winked. “I had always suspected as much, and then with your foray into the maze it made the possibility far more likely, but thank you for confirming my speculation. I presume Miss Granger put you up to the task?”

Harry smiled sheepishly and nodded. “I figured you knew, and only recently discovered that it was a unique ability.”

“Yes, Harry, it is. Only a select few wizards can tap into their magic in such a way. Most of them require the use of wands to focus the magical energy from their bodies toward their intended result. Now what you need to learn is how to absorb energy from the world around you so that the wandless magic doesn’t deplete your own innate magic.”

Harry gaped. “I can do that?”

“Oh yes, Harry. There is magical energy in everything, more in some places than others, of coarse. For instance, the land the castle is built upon is rich with energy, which is what makes it ideal for students who have not yet learned to control their magical abilities. Because of your level of powers, if you concentrate, you should be able to visualize the magical energy in any given location. In fact, you can even pull magical energy from other people or creatures, which can come in handy during a battle, as I’m sure you could guess.”

He couldn’t absorb everything the headmaster was telling him. Harry couldn’t fathom sucking the magical energy away from another person, or for that matter the fact that he truly had powers superior to those around him. “Are you sure you’re not mistaken, professor? I don’t feel as though I have any special abilities. I’m nowhere near top of my class even; in fact Hermione is far better at spell work than I am.”

The elderly wizard chuckled. “Indeed Miss Granger is a very special and clever witch, but she does not have the kind of power that you possess. I think you would find that if you applied yourself you would probably find yourself, much to Miss Granger’s dismay, at the top of all your classes.”

“All but potions, I bet,” Harry muttered.

Dumbledore nodded. “Yes, potions does take a kind of finesse and steady hand that Gryffindor’s by nature rarely have, your mother being an exception to that rule.”

“Even if I inherited my mother’s abilities in potions, Snape would still hate me and take points every chance he got.”

“Professor Snape,” Dumbledore intoned with a raised authoritative eyebrow, “does what he thinks is best for his students. He shows you a strong hand because he feels that is what you need to do your best. He doesn’t hate you, Harry, quite the opposite in fact.”

Harry blanched. What did the headmaster know that he wasn’t saying? “Professor. Do you…”

The headmaster halted him with a finger. “Now, now. This is not my place to discuss with you. If you would like to know the depth of Professor Snape’s attitude toward you, I suggest speaking with him about it directly.” Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes and nodded instead. “Good, now where were we? Ah, yes. Mage craft.”

“Pardon?”

“Hm? Oh, Mage Craft. It’s what it is you do, Harry. It’s an innate ability, passed on to you from your father, though he never had an aptitude for it such as yourself, but he carried the genetic background that transferred the ability to you…”

“So it wasn’t another thing Voldemort passed on to me?” Harry blurted.

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow at the interruption, but didn’t chastise him for it. “No, Harry. Were you worried about that?” Harry nodded “I can assure you it is traceable through your bloodline. Powers like these cannot be transferred by what Voldemort did to you.”

“It just seems like too much of a coincidence that he and I have even more powers in common, but that he’s not responsible,” Harry muttered.

The headmaster sighed and smiled sadly. “I know this is a lot, perhaps too much to expect you to comprehend all at once, but you share these gifts with Voldemort, because you share a blood line with him.” He raised a hand at Harry’s imminent interruption. “I will give you the books and charts you will no doubt wish to look over, but essentially you and Voldemort are cousins, distant cousins. The Potter line is an ancient one and can be traced back to not only the Black ancestry line, but also Salazar Slytherin himself.”

“That can’t be possible can it? I mean in second year I thought that I could be the heir of Slytherin, but I wasn’t, it was Riddle.”

Dumbledore shook his head, “No, your line was much more muddled and intermingled than Riddle’s. You are not a direct descendent as he is, but you can trace your line back to him nonetheless. Though many of the current pureblood families can trace their ancestry back to one of the four founders.”

“But I’m not even pureblood.”

“No, but your father was, and you are closer than you think. Lily’s family were not solely a muggle line; they were a wizarding family until three generations ago when Magdalene Ravenclaw married a muggle, Thomas Evans, and their child, Lily’s grandfather, was a squib. That’s why Lily’s parents were so thrilled that Lily was born with full magical ability and why they insisted she marry a pureblood in order to re-strengthen the line. You see you’re closer to a pureblood than you suspected.”

Harry just sat back, completely dumbfounded and overwhelmed by the information Dumbledore was relating. “Are you saying my parents marriage was arranged?” This went against everything he had thought about his parents. He imagined them marrying for love, not obligation.

“Well, yes and no. When it was discovered that Lily was a witch, her parents arranged for her to marry into a pureblood line and promised her to another wizard her age, someone, in fact, that she met before coming to Hogwarts. However, she fell in love with your father and pleaded her parents to break the arrangement, and since your father came from a pureblood line as well, they agreed to transfer the arrangement over to the Potter’s.”

Harry sighed wondering why he was only now finding out so much important information about his family. At least his idea of James and Lily marrying for love wasn’t so far fetched, but it only created more questions. “Who was she originally promised…” He felt a little twinge of nausea as an idea settled upon him. “It was Snape wasn’t it?”

The headmaster narrowed his eyes at the petulant Gryffindor. “Yes, it was indeed Professor Snape who your mother was betrothed to. She cared for him a great deal, and they were dear friends in spite of the separation of houses, but in the end, she fell in love with James, though she was loath to do so.”

Harry smiled at that. He recalled vividly the stories his Godfather and Remus would tell him about his father’s clumsy attempts at wooing his mother. She had wanted nothing to do with him and often rejected his advances. “You can’t help who you fall in love with,” Harry said before even realizing it.

Dumbledore raised a large bushy gray eyebrow and held a look of amusement mixed with concern. “Very True, Harry. I wonder,” he began thoughtfully, stroking his beard, “what is your relationship with Mr Malfoy?”

Harry blushed. “Is that important, sir?”

“It might be. There is prophecy that I believe may involve the two of you.” He ignored Harry’s scowl and pressed on. “I started doing research when you told me about your dreams in the maze. I knew there had to be a reason that you and Draco were selected to start this task, and I found what I believe is the answer in this book.” He turned the heavy volume around so that Harry could see it. It read ‘Great Unfulfilled Prophesies of Our Time’ on the cover and with a flick of his finger the book opened to a page toward the back. The page reminded him of an onions skin and it was tarnished with age. Two thirds down the page was a passage that seemed to glow with a halo around the words.

Harry leaned over and read the highlighted passage aloud. “The Pale Dragon will make a traitorous union. The lion is the key to releasing the gilded soul. Betrayal and death fall in its wake. The lion must fall before the Dragon can be redeemed” Harry read it again several times quietly to himself before saying a word. “You think Draco is the pale dragon?”

Dumbledore nodded, and Harry guarded his expressions carefully. “And you are, I believe, the lion.”

“Because of our traitorous union?” he laughed, but not kindly.

The headmaster tilted his head to one side as if studying the younger boy. “I don’t think it means traitorous in that sense. I think it is referring to the fact that you are from naturally opposing sides, but it may have multiple meanings. These things often do.”

Harry sat back and rubbed his temples. This was all too much. Too much to take in all at once, and too much for a sixteen year old to have to deal with. “Say this prophesy is about Draco and I, what’s the gilded soul, and what does it mean the lion must fall? Is it saying that I die? Because I can’t die for Voldemort and for Draco,” Harry muttered bitterly.

“No one says you must die for either of them. This one says you must fall before the dragon can be redeemed, which intones a choice. You may have a choice of saving yourself or Mr Malfoy, or falling could refer to something else entirely. These things are often vague enough for people to interpret in many ways. The part that concerns me most is the bit about the Gilded Soul. That’s the name the Order gave to the item in the center of the maze.”

“So, what is it?”

“Harry,” the headmaster narrowed his eyes at him again, “you know I cannot reveal that to you. What I can say, as I did before, is that the Gilded Soul is an item Voldemort wants desperately, and he will do whatever it takes to get a hold of it.”

“Draco hates him as much as I do. He wouldn’t let Voldemort get it, whatever it is.” Harry felt certain of that.

Dumbledore leaned back in his large chair and looked at Harry quizzically. “It is possible that Voldemort could persuade your companion, perhaps through gifts or even fear, to give him the item. He does still hold the boys mother captive does he not?” Harry nodded, feeling slightly less sure of himself. If giving Voldemort a nondescript trinket would save his own mother, it might be enough persuasion even for him, and he knew he was far more morally scrupulous than Draco. “Even if that weren’t the case, the power emanating from the item will be intoxicating. It could cloud Mr Malfoy’s normally logical decision making skills.”

“So what am I supposed to do? Apparently I’m the key, so I’m going to free this item from the maze, but Draco’s always there with me, how am I supposed to keep it away from him?”

“All good questions, my boy.” Dumbledore looked down at Harry with respectful kindness. “You should be the one to retrieve the item, and when you do, you’ll bring it back here to me directly. I can keep it safe and away from Voldemort’s reach. If Draco were to get it, it would be far too easy to steal it from the boy.”

Harry nodded. That made sense; it would be too hard to keep it from the vile snake within these castle walls. He got up and paced the expansive office, eliciting a coo from Fawkes every time he approached its perch. “I think that should be manageable. I’ll just tell him of the prophecy and he’ll understand why it has to be done that way.”

The headmaster stood quickly. “No, Harry he mustn’t know about the passage I let you read. We don’t know if we can trust him yet and it is far too important.”

“I trust him,” Harry shouted, “and this is too much for me to handle on my own to have to lie to him on top of it all!”

Dumbledore’s voice was soft and soothing when he next spoke, but it held an edge to it that made Harry aware he was not to be disobeyed. “ I do not trust him. He’s the son of Voldemort’s right hand man, and the Dark Lord holds too much that the boy finds precious in his twisted grasp. I cannot let this item pass into his hands, and I’m sorry if it offends you, but Draco is not to know. This prophecy unsettles me and I don’t know what part our pale dragon has to play just yet.”

“Fine,” Harry grumbled begrudgingly.

“I want your word, Harry, that you will not tell a soul about this.” When he met the headmasters usually sparkling blue eyes, they held hardness and a twinge of menace.

“Not even Hermione?” Harry whined. Dumbledore narrowed his eyes again, but before he could chastise him Harry answered. “You have my word.”

With a curt nod the headmaster indicated a large pile of books and scrolls. “Those are for you, they contain information about your heritage and your magical inheritance. You may tell Miss Granger about your Mage Craft ability. No doubt she can help you develop it further. Once class begins you and I will have private lessons in order to help you master and control these powers to the best of your ability.”

Harry nodded, not really listening any longer. He heard about the lessons, but nothing really sunk in with him. He felt over-full with information. He had a feeling even Hermione would find it to be too much to handle. He levitated the items in front of him and out the door, carefully guiding them down the stairs and through the corridors.

He had no idea how he was supposed to get any reading done, and study for his classes. He was sure Hermione would assist him, but at what cost to his free time with Draco?

Then there was the idea of lying to the boy who he loved. Could he do that? Well, he had to, he’d given his word to Dumbledore, and something told him that he was a wizard who wouldn’t take kindly to having been lied to.

Bits of information swirled around in his mind. Power, new magic, his parents and heritage and the prophecy all competed for first place in Harry’s thought process. He immediately thought of a way he could get around breaking his word and at least incorporating Hermione is not Draco. He would just ask Hermione to research the Gilded Soul thing and see what she found out. He could feel a very Malfoy-esk smirk forming on his lips at the devious thoughts, and he thought he could sense Dumbledore frowning in his office.

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