Harry Potter and the True Heir

Harry Potter and the True-Blooded Heir

Chapter Four- Reason to Live

"No, Ron. That's not how you handle the situation." A puffy-haired, brunette girl with a harsh look that creased her mature face told an apricot-colored hair boy with a befuddled atmosphere hanging about him.

"But it makes sense, doesn't it? I mean, if they get caught by Filch, we take them to McGonagall for their 'reprimanding'. I mean, Filch himself said that he'd kill someone for messing with that feline of his." The boy was clutching a book entitled "The Prefects Rule Book: A Guide to Perfection." His gaze was fixed at a single page and didn't look up to address the girl as he spoke. This was fortunate, for this way, he could avoid her scornful appearance.

"But that's not how it's supposed to work." She snatched the Rule Book away from the boy, who muttered curses under his breath. "See, here on page 534, it's written: 'If a prefect happens to be in position of a Professor or elder of any title reprimanding a student, the prefect is to simply walk away and allow the Professor or elder of any title to continue." She then put the book aside and pursed her lips in the pleasure of being correct.

"Alright, Alright, Hermione." Ron waved his hand in the air dismissing all of what he was supposed to have soaked in. "I get it, trust me. It's not Filch I'm worried about, it's Ginny."

"Ginny? Why her?"

"Don't get me wrong, Dean is me mate. But the thought of him snogging me sister just makes me want to pound him into the ground..." Catching whiff of Hermione's frightened expression as he was pounding his fist into his palm; Ron stopped the incessant beating of his fist. "I mean, I don't like it, 'Mione."

'Well, she's 15, Ron. You can't stop her from being with someone she likes."

"I can, too! I'm her flesh and blood. That gives me all the bloody right I need!"

"No, it doesn't. Look, she's just coming to her own. It's not like she's goggling at him all the time like you did when Phlegm, I mean, Fleur was at the Burrow."

"I did what, again? 'Goggle' at me brother's soon-to-be wife?"

"You know what I meant, Ron. Don't twist my words. Ginny told me. Whenever it was time to go anywhere, you would be the first in line to receive her good-bye kisses."

Ron scowled at this comment and shot up into the air. "Well, she kissed Harry too, you know. And besides, it's not like she kissed me on the-" Ron could literally see the blood boiling in Hermione's eyes and quietly resumed his position is his seat.

"Well, what you do with your time is not any of my business." Hermione calmed down before she decided to speak. She didn't look at her friend when speaking, but could feel his dazed look wander from his reflection in the glass window, to the doors, and then to her. "I'll be right as rain no matter what you do."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" It wasn't the frustration in his voice that had triggered her to look up at him; it was the warmth of his feelings. It was the fact that he cared whether or not she was involved in his life.

"It's almost time. I have to get changed." She opened her suitcase and pulled out her robes. Then, rushing past him, she let him see a tear slide down her cheek. Closing the door behind her, Hermione left Ron to his thoughts. Alone in his coach, he didn't know what to do. For someone had always been with him.

Ron got up from his seat and emptied the compartment; knowing fully well that his presence would be missed when someone else got back. He knocked on the door of the coach beside his and pushed aside the doors only slightly. To his utter shock, he found a boy fast asleep on the lower berth with only little under an hour left till they arrived upon their destination. He then slid the doors aside even further revealing a positively stunned girl glaring at him and her quill pen running a leak on her stationery.

"Oi. Your pen's running a leak." he beckoned to the girl. When she simply stared at him even more, Ron pulled out his wand and chanted, "Nullus!" The ink stain soon started to fade away into nothingness.

Ignoring his unusually perfected spell-work, the girl simply asked Ron, "Who are you?"

"I'm a Gryffindor Prefect, Ron Weasley." For once in his life, Ron was proud that his title as Prefect could bring him this much honor. He just didn't let it get to his head as his brother Percy had done. "Who are you?" he said turning to the sleeping boy, wand out. "Contradormons!"

The sleeping boy had shot bolt upright in his seat. His deep blue eyes were wide apart, and looked ill-rested, although he had been asleep for eight-hours. His hair fizzed about, and his lips were creased by the evidence of drool.

"Sorry bout that, mate. Me wand's in need of mending, again."

"Dormiens!" The girl had taken out her wand from behind her and aimed at the shockingly upright boy, who resembled the first homo-sapiens at this point. As she said, the boy propped back into his position before Ron had gotten there and used his wand, which was in desperate need of repairing.

"But, it's little under an hour till we get to Hogwarts," he said.

"I know."

"Then why are you letting him sleep?"

"I'll wake him up when I feel like it. The prat deserves all the sleep he can get."

"I take it he's related to you, then? Older brother, perhaps?"

"If he is?"

"No reason. Hand me your wand."

"But why?"

"Just hand it to me."

She handed Ron her wand and he recited 'Contradormons' again. This time, the boy simply yawned and stretched out his arms into the air. He looked at Ron for a moment, and then extended his hand.

"You must be a prefect. My name is Joseph Arriens."

Ron accepted his hand by meeting it with his. "Ron Weasley."

"Is it time to get on, already?"

"It is," Ron said, giving back the girl her wand.

"Well, then, I'll have to go change into my robes." With a flick of his wand when the words 'Accio Robes' were uttered, Joseph had his trunk opened, and had black robes greeting him in the air. He brought them down and closed his trunk manually. "It was nice making your acquaintance, Ronald. I shall see you around grounds sometimes." Joseph left his sister and Ron alone in the compartment.

"Name's Shalimar. But, you really should've let me take care of that. The git deserves to be late to the banquet."

"I had to do my duty. Sorry. Well, which house are you in?" Ron had asked this because there was no house insignia on her cloak.

"None."

"Is that possible?"

"First time for everything."

"I see. Well, Shalimar, I have to go and alert all the Gryffindor students. Nice meeting you."

"Likewise." Shalimar said this as Ron shut the doors behind him. When she knew for certain that he was well on his way, she whipped out another piece of stationery and began to write.

It was strange seeing the aged wizard without his hat; however, he still had that glistening smile on his lips, and that provided more than a warm atmosphere.

"I am terribly sorry about your treatment in the previous visit, Professor." Although Dad wasn't referring to me in particular, I still nodded contritely, for I did my share. "I would never have said those things had it not been so early in the morn." Dad smiled affectionately to Dumbledore.

"No need to worry. So, shall we put our minds at ease about that not so unfortunate event, as much as it was gratifying, seeing as to you two are before me right now?" Professor Dumbledore sweetly grimaced at Joseph and me as we returned his spiel with a gentle inclination of our heads. "Well, then, let's have a round of Chuddley's Venom Float." He said this calling to a server, but didn't notice Joseph's worried appearance.

"Venom?"

"No, not real venom," Dad replied to Joseph's not so cleverly concealed frightened looks. "It's merely a berry blend smoothie. They give you a type of berry juice that fits your personality. It's all rather nice. The berries are exports from all around the world. You still want it?"

"I'll have a go at it." Joseph had agreed, but still looked intrusively of our server, who was dangling his wand on his head and had, what appeared to be, snot peering out of his nose.

"Will that be all?" he asked.

"Yes," the Professor had answered. As the server was known to be well out of our sight, he began speaking. "We are here to merely discuss how your first year at Hogwarts will fare. I hope that it will be delightfully filled with learning and a little bit of fun along the way. It is something that is very important, and thus must not be overlooked. I was going to arrange everything by owl post, but then it seemed rather impersonal. However, I ask that you refrain from soliciting any questions until I complete what I have to say, to see if I have not already answered them." After he was sure that he was going to receive our undivided attention, he went on, "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is a school where magic is taught to all wizards and witches that enter after they have turned 11. The motto of Hogwarts is "Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus", which means "Never tickle a sleeping dragon". I find the placing of a practical motto of more use than those such as "reach for the stars."

"Usually, first years are placed into Houses. The Sorting Hat, is a sentient artifact used at Hogwarts, which magically determines to which of the four school houses -- Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw or Slytherin -- a new student is to be assigned. As the First-Year students' names are read aloud at the year's opening banquet, the hat is placed on each student's head in turn, and after a few moments' deliberation, it announces its choice. Occasionally, the hat will allow a student's request to influence its decision.

"In the school's early days, students were handpicked by the founders. When they began to worry how students could be picked after their death, Godric Gryffindor took his hat off and offered it for the purpose they had sought. Now, at the beginning of each school year, the magical Sorting Hat is used at a ceremony named the Sorting ceremony. Before beginning the sorting, it sings a short ballad about the founding of the school and the four houses. The Hat sorts by judging the most obvious qualities of the student.

"Each house has one teacher who acts as its Head of House. Each house also has a house ghost."

The Professor handed Joseph and me two rolls of parchment for the pair of us. As we scrolled it, it had information regarding the Four Houses. I didn't really care which House I was put in. But, definitely liked the prospect of either Gryffindor or Ravenclaw. Their ghosts are Nearly Headless Nick and the Grey Lady. The Heads of Houses are Professor Minerva McGonagall, also the Transfiguration teacher, and Professor Flitwick of Charms.

The rolls also contained information on classes we could take. I marked down the compulsory seven subjects, and then one elective, Ancient Runes. Joseph signed up for Arithmancy and Astronomy. It talked about O.W.L.s or Ordinary Wizarding Level examinations, which are administered at Hogwarts at the end of a student's fifth year, but are graded by the Ministry. It also talked about N.E.W.T.s, which is an acronym for Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests. You have to receive excellent grades on both to get a decent job at the Ministry. But, I have other professions in mind. Nevertheless, I still signed up for the N.E.W.T. level courses.

After noticing that we were done looking over our rolls of parchment, Dumbledore continued to explain more, "Since you are joining our school in your sixth year, you will be tested on your O.W.Ls at the end of this year, and a bi-monthly N.E.W.T. will be administered to monitor your learning process. Also, flying lessons are in order. Should you choose to want them, you will be training, each on the same day with this year's Quidditch Captain, depending on your house, in private lessons once a week. Madam Hooch, will be far too busy this year. I understand that you both are not skilled in magic, let alone know the basics. But, our dear Professors at Hogwarts have volunteered to give you a part of their memory. They are going to instill in your minds all that they have attempted to place inside their students these past five years. Don't worry about how this is going to take place. Simply close your eyes. I promise this won't hurt a tad bit." He placed the tip of his wand near my left temple and chanted a few words.

Suddenly, out of the wand, a thin string of grey fluff began oozing its way into my head. I felt cold, and shivered for a bit. My eyeballs rolled inside their sockets, and I felt light and weak. My mind was squirming. Suddenly, charms, and book work I didn't remember doing, and spells I couldn't before understood the meaning of, now surged through my mind. I knew how to make someone levitate, I knew how to open a locked door, knew how to transform my appearance using a potion, I knew what an animagus was... It was unbelievable; I was finally made a witch. Then Professor Dumbledore went on to do the same for Joseph. After a bit, he removed his wand from Joseph's temple.

"Now for a test. Shalimar, what is the exact usage for a Mandrake, and why is it sometimes worrisome?"

I tensed up for a bit, unsure as to how I should answer this question. Then I found myself spilling the words right out, "Mandrake or Mandragora is a powerful restorative. It is used to return people who have been transfigured or cursed, to their original state. The Mandrake forms an essential part of most antidotes. It is also, however, dangerous. The cry of the Mandrake is fatal to anyone who hears it, so earmuffs are essential."

"Good, good. Now onto you, Joseph." Joey didn't look as worried as I was, however; he was rather confident, in fact. "What is a bezoar, and what does it do?"

"A bezoar is a sort of calculus or concretion, a stone found in the intestines of mostly ruminant animals. There are several varieties of bezoar, some of which have inorganic constituents and others organic. Bezoars were formerly sought after because they were believed to have the power of a universal antidote against any poison. It was believed that a drinking glass which contained a bezoar set within would neutralize any poison poured into the glass."

It was astounding what the flick of a wand could do. Answers to questions I would never have before been able to reply to were now simple, and redundant.

"Now, I have explained what I needed to have. And have done what it is required of me. I wish that the rest of your time spent at Hogwarts be one filled with pleasant surprises, so I do not want to go on further about things like the teachers, the subjects, what is Quidditch--which I'm sure both of you will enjoy--and things to that effect." Our server had returned with a clear liquid in each glass. "Well, now the time has come for us to put those matters aside and drink to your future success. Oh, and are there any questions?" When Joseph and I swiveled our heads in either direction, Dumbledore went on cheerily, "Perfect. Now we can enjoy our drinks."

Our server had placed our drinks onto the table when Professor Dumbledore was speaking. He then waited till the Professor was done with his speech to give us his own explanation of what exactly he had brought before us.

"Alright, for the young lady," he set aside a glass with transparently white liquid in front of me. Then the liquid started to swish against the sides of the glass. It churned itself at incredible speed, and then began to slow down, integrating into a bright reddish in hue drink. "Ah, in red we have the Red Strawberry Venom Float for the crimson-colored stains left inside of your heart." He then began placing glasses with the same liquid in front of the others. They started turning colors left-and-right. He hurriedly spoke of their meanings.

"For the lad, we have the Blackberry Venom Float for his quest to ponder the darkness that wounded him. For our dear sage, we have a Rosy Cherry Float for his goodwill towards all people. And finally, for the children's father, we have a Violet Blueberry Venom Float for the emptiness he feels inside." The server was so completely blunt that we were all taken aback. I didn't assume that he would actually tell us the reasons behind our drinks and didn't touch mine until Dad had prompted me to do so, for the fourth time. What did he mean by 'crimson-colored stains inside of her heart?' And how did he know that they even were there?

Anyway, after we had sipped the last drop of juice, Professor Dumbledore had led the way to the warmth of the sunlight, as opposed to the looming darkness of the 'Cauldron', as we left the pub.

"I believe that the best means of transportation is by Apparating. Anything other than that will attract Muggle attention because of my attire. I never was too fond of 'tee-shirts'."

"I agree, but how are we going to do this?" Dad had asked. I, before, would've questioned him about what Apparating was exactly, but saw no purpose to it now, being completely aware.

"Is it not obvious? I can Apparate with your daughter here, and you can with Joseph."

"I suppose that's correct. Thank you for everything, Professor. I really appreciate it." Dumbledore merely winked at this. "Alright, let's do this, Joseph. Now I warn you, this will be rather stomach-churning." He grabbed Joey's left arm, and within seconds, they vanished with a deafening crack.

"Shall we?" The Professor held out his wand arm to be placed in mine, however; I had other things in mind. I had been fighting off the urge to ask him many things.

"Professor, before we do so, may I ask you a few questions?" I was frightened as ever that by asking him, he would know more about the 'crimson-colored stains' in my heart than I wanted him to.

"I don't see why not."

"Did you know my mother?"

"I did. She was an 'exceeds expectations' and 'outstanding' student. Great in Potions, though. Whereas your father favored Charms."

"But you must know, he's not me real dad."

"I do. But it still doesn't change the fact that he raised you, now does it?"

"Do you know who my father is?" I had not only caught Dumbledore off guard, but myself as well. I didn't know why I had to ask it, really.

"All of that really doesn't matter. Your dad loves you--"

"I know, but when my mum died, two months following that, he told me a little bit about the situation. He talked about her being murdered. There was no sign of struggle and no stab marks, or evidence of the use of a weapon. Just a clean death. No traces of chloroform in her body. How could that have happened?"

"That was done by a wizard, Shalimar. Can you tell me what curse does that?"

"Yes, an Unforgivable Curse. The Avada Kedavra," I had answered my own question.

"Yes, the Killing Curse. Some wizard used this against your mother and claimed her life. But you do understand that her occupation was risky? Being an Auror put her on the death-list for many Death Eaters."

"It's untraceable, right?"

"Yes, so I can't possibly tell you who did it. But, believe me, Shalimar. The Ministry did try its best."

"Can't you bring her back to life?"

"No, that's only something that GOD can do. We are humans still, and are limited as to what we can do and cannot do. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to put this conversation away for a bit. Maybe pick up later? But, for now, your father and brother are awaiting our presence." He offered me his right arm again, and I slipped my left through it. He had given me the same warning Dad had given Joseph, and with a loud crack, I found myself soaring in time. My body felt like it was being ripped apart from itself, and I was sickened to the bone. I made a note of it never to do this again unless I had to. But then remembered that it was required to learn how to do.

I remember his exact words: 'But you do understand that her occupation was risky? Being an Auror put her on the death-list for many Death Eaters.' If it was a Death Eater that had taken my mum away from me, then I am going to do everything I can to find out which one. I will take my revenge. I will... If Hogwarts can teach me what it is I need, then no wizard or witch in the world will stop me from finding out the truth. No one will try and prevent me from bringing my mum's killer to justice.

The quill had stopped writing, and the person in whose grasp it was, was clutching it hardly. Tears began to well up in her eyes, and one escaped its socket and dripped down onto the parchment, and it seeped right through the words: "I will."