Harry Potter and the Birth of a New Sun

Harry Potter and the Birth of a New Sun

Chapter 27 - Choices

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Harry looked down into Gabriella's eyes and then glanced back toward the steps that led to the dungeons of Slytherin. Blaise had long since disappeared, but Harry's glance still lingered for a moment. Then, his hand took hers and his fingers turned the ring that had bound them forever. How could he be so blind? He knew and yet, until now, he didn't truly understand. When Harry's eyes returned to Gabriella's, they were pained.

"Draco...," whispered Harry, "...no wonder he's so... so..."

"Viciously evil?"

Harry's eyebrows furled. "No! Well... maybe. He's tried so hard to love, but no one's ever loved him back. Not really." Harry's hand caressed the side of Gabriella's face. "Not like this. Not here... in the open." Her eyes slid back toward the dungeon steps, at the nothingness left in Blaise's absence.

"I do not know, Harry. I think there may be some things about Draco Malfoy we will never learn. As for his love life..." Gabriella clenched the front of Harry's shirt and pulled him close, smiling. "You, my dear, are mine."

Harry was about to say something when the front doors burst open again, flooding the front corridor with light. A group of second years was carrying a student in their arms. His face was somewhat charred, the front of his robes were scorched, and the smell of burning hair filled the room.

"Out of the way!" one yelled.

"We've got to get him to the hospital wing," yelled another.

"He tried to turn his toad red and his wand backfired!"

The smouldering student groaned as Harry stepped in front of the group.

"Let me see," he said dismissively, rolling his eyes.

"We need Madame--" The student stopped, realizing who he was speaking with. He pushed back one of his chums, yelling, "Let him see! Let him see!"

They set the student down onto the stone floor, his head making a hollow thump as it hit, and Harry placed his hand just above the boy's chest, closing his eyes and reaching forward to find the injuries.

"My name's Harry," he said to the injured boy. "What's yours?"

"R-Ralph," muttered the student. The left side if his face was pretty badly blistered, as was his wand hand, but overall the injuries were minor.

"Hufflepuff, right?" Harry reached out and began to heal the wounds without using his wand. "I think your mates, here, would have fought Voldemort himself to see you to safety."

"Y-Yeah, I... what the... hey!" The wounds were healed, though his face and arm were still covered in a blackened mess. He shifted up onto one elbow, staring at his hand. "The pain... it... it's gone." Harry reached for Ralph's hand and pulled him to his feet - the small group gathered all clapped.

"Fine house, Hufflepuff," he said. "Where's your wand?"

"What?"

"Your wand... where is it?"

"Here," said one of Ralph's friends. "I picked it up for him."

"Good," said Harry, taking the wand from the student, examining it for a moment, and then handing it back to Ralph. "Never let it out of your sight, Ralph. In the wrong hands a cursed wand can kill." Ralph's eyes grew large and his rather large head nodded vigorously. "What was the spell?"

"The spell?" asked Ralph.

"Yeah... the spell to turn the toad red."

"Oh... that." Ralph pointed at one of his classmates. "Spaldy taught it to me. Erm... Sunshine, Daisies, Buttered Bread; Turn this stupid fat toad red." Harry glared at Spaldy, who began to slowly slink away.

"Elfsmora!" cried Harry, sending a greenish light from his wand and striking Spaldy on the head. The young man's hair disappeared and his ears curled up to tiny points. The group gasped. Harry turned to Ralph. "Hufflepuff's a great house, but you never can be too careful. I'd talk to Baldy a little more about that spell of yours." Spaldy started to move more swiftly down the corridor; the others giving chase.

"Wait a minute, Spal!" one yelled.

"And ask him what he did when he borrowed your wand!" Harry called after him.

"I thought I sensed deceit," said Gabriella. "I just wasn't sure who."

"Good," said Harry. "I was just guessing."

"Harry!" chided Gabriella. "You should never--" Again the doors opened.

"Who in blazes name is it this--" Harry looked up, shielding his eyes from the sun, to find Dumbledore framed by the castle doors. He was wearing long blue robes and, backlit by the sun's streaming rays, he appeared almost godlike in stature. His attention was focused, however, out on the castle grounds.

"VERY NICE!" Dumbledore cried out to someone well out of sight. His voice was so loud it shook the floor itself, but Harry noticed a thinness that wasn't there before. "Quite an excellent idea, Mr. Nott! It is always good to see the youth of today trying to learn more about their roots." Almost absentmindedly, Dumbledore turned into the castle, stopped himself, and spun back outside.

"Mr. Creevey!" There was a slight pause. "No. Yes, you Colin. Please add a little water to our troupe of truth finders. Buried as they are, I'm sure it will help to sprout some new ideas!" Harry heard Dennis, Colin's brother, yell something back in agreement, there was a pop, and then a screaming sound, and then Dumbledore turned inside, this time to find Gabriella and Harry, smiling at him.

"Ah! Mr. Potter and Ms. Dar..." His eyes caught the flash of gold on Gabriella's finger. Dumbledore's eyes darted to Harry. The change of his finger did not go unnoticed. Still, Harry slipped his left hand into his pocket. "A pleasure to see you both well."

"Sir," said Harry, "we need to speak with you about--"

"I was hoping I might find you, Harry," Dumbledore interjected. "Firenze provided me with a quite extraordinary tail. Even he was excited in its telling and for Firenze that's saying something."

"Sir, about that. You should really know--"

"Would you like to join me for some tea?" Dumbledore interrupted again.

They followed the Headmaster down a long corridor and Harry presumed they were heading toward Dumbledore's office, but they past the extremely ugly stone gargoyle and continued down the corridor toward the staircase leading to the astronomy tower. On a few occasions, Harry tried to tell his story, but each time Dumbledore would interrupt him by whistling, or describing some cryptic historic fact about a wall, or stone, or suit of armour. When they past the staircases to the astronomy tower, Harry began to wonder what exactly Dumbledore was up to. Harry had been down this way, and he knew it was nothing more than a dead end - Amortentia Alley. Sometimes students would use the benches to snog late at night, using the excuse, if they were caught, that they were just coming down from stargazing and had turned the wrong way. Walking down here with the Headmaster made Harry's palms sweat; it just wasn't right.

At mid-afternoon on a Sunday, the corridor was deserted. A dim light made its way in from the windows high above that lined the walls. They walked until they could walk no more. All that was in front of them were a half dozen wooden benches with various inscriptions and hearts wanded into them, and the stone wall some fifty feet high and twenty feet across that was covered by an old tapestry that had hidden the bare stones since Harry was a first year. He looked up at the windows, wondering if they would now try to somehow levitate up there; it seemed, to him, the only way left to go. He could make out the blue sky, but nothing else. A bird flittered by just as he heard Gabriella gasp.

Harry diverted his attention back to Gabriella. Her hand was over her mouth and her eyes were fixed on the tapestry. She was backing away from the wall. Harry glanced at the tapestry, noticing some bird holding what looked like arrows - some American thing. Gabriella continued to back away.

"What's wrong?" he asked her, but she said nothing. He looked at Dumbledore. "Sir?"

"Nothing is wrong, Harry," Dumbledore answered quietly. He sat down on one of the benches, took out a small gumdrop from his pocket, unwrapped it, and popped it into his mouth. "Perhaps you too should step back and admire the weaving. It has draped this wall since I was a student here." Dumbledore smiled and his blue eyes twinkled. "In my fourth year, little Terry Pensington and I would..." He shook his head, smiled and began to chew a bit more vigorously, scanning one end of the bench he was sitting on for something.

Harry walked over to Gabriella and put his arm around her, and then he turned to face the tapestry. He'd never before given it a moment's thought, but it was actually quite amazing really - some sort of medieval battle scene set in perhaps the ninth century. Visible through a dark moving mist, there were all sorts of creatures that came into and out of view as the scene on the tapestry changed, much like the movement of people in the portraits that lined the walls. Arrows shot through the black clouds; soldiers, wearing armour, slashed with their swords and occasionally a flash of flame or bolt of lighting would cross a portion of the landscape.

A rather large Centaur caught Harry's eyes. He'd never noticed Centaurs in the scene before, but he'd never really paid that much attention. Looking more closely, he noticed that it wasn't just one Centaur, it was an entire herd. The dark clouds weren't clouds at all, but swarms of Dementors blocking out whole portions of the countryside just as they had in the Carpathians. The clash forced Harry's eyes upward and there he saw, high above the scene, the comet Ebyrth floating in the sky - a shining omen of war and despair. Harry's heart began to race as he felt himself being drawn into the tapestry; it was as if he was on the battlefield again. His arm began to ache and he looked down to see the familiar mark, raised and red.

On the tapestry, there were giants and vampires, werewolves and wizards, all battling because the Centaurs and Dementors had been compelled to do so. Only, in this scene, the selected allies were different; friends of today were foes of old. The comet flying through the heavens above had ordained war and the sides were drawn to fit the age. The battle raged with no victory in sight for either side. It was a battle scene not unlike many in the castle. All such battles told the same story and Harry wondered why this one, more than any of the others, besides its more present implications, would cause Gabriella to look so stunned and his arm to ache.

He didn't need to wait long for the answer. Her hand tightened about his as the large bird Harry had seen earlier broke through the clouds of darkness. That's when Harry noticed it wasn't a bird at all, it was a dragon. A female Hungarian Horntail as ebon as the dark of night, her scales shimmering like a million tiny stars, opened her great mouth and flame roiled out enveloping the entire scene. In her claws she held not arrows, but a lightning bolt, no, two lightning bolts. They crossed each other as she flew high toward the comet - the Viswa Vajra. Harry felt his hand stroke the scar upon his forearm, his thumb sliding against the similar symbol at his own wrist, a rune uniquely his in all the Votary.

From below, a Centaur appeared, took aim and shot at the dragon, but before the arrow left the bow a woman, one of the commoners by the looks of her tattered garb trapped within a vice of war, threw herself in front of the bowman. The arrow pierced her breast and she fell dead. The dragon turned and attacked the Centaur and all below. The scene filled with fire, was blank as if someone had cleared a chalkboard with the wave of a wand, and then the action began anew, like a movie replaying itself over and over again.

"Asha!" Gabriella whispered.

"Yes, it's amazing," answered Harry.

"No," Gabriella corrected. "Asha... Asha and Aniente."

"Aniente? Your great, great--"

"She laid down her life that the dragon might live."

"And ever since," said Dumbledore, taking to his feet, "the Votary has been bound with the dragon." He too faced the tapestry. "It was the second coming of Ebyrth. Your great ancestor, Aniente Hayk, died protecting Asha. In this war, Dakhil was a young wizard of seventeen. He was one of the first members of the Votary. When Asha died, the evil of that age attacked him, thinking that he might have held the dragon's heart. Fortunately, it was hidden elsewhere and his refusal to speak kept it safe, but he paid a terrible price."

"Vampires," Harry hissed just under his breath.

"Yes, Harry," Dumbledore said with a slight nod of his head. "Vampires." He reached back into his pocket. "Taffy?" he offered. The two shook their heads. Dumbledore shrugged and began to chew.

"I don't know why I never noticed," said Harry as the Centaur reappeared in the scene.

"Few students who wander back here ever do. I suspect your mind was on... other things. Come, I promised you tea." He started back toward his office.

As they walked, Harry looked over his shoulder. The scene on the tapestry once again filled with flame and reset itself. His forearm continued to tingle.

"Sir," he asked, "how did the war end? What made them stop fighting?"

Dumbledore let out a long, slow sigh as they came to the gargoyle. "Death," he said softly. "They all died. Teatime Taffy." The staircase emerged and they hopped on as it spiralled upwards. Gabriella's eyes met Dumbledore's as the staircase rose. For a moment they locked, but then her eyes fell and her head and shoulder slumped.

"But how?" Harry asked, pressing the question. "If I knew how the evil was destroyed, perhaps I could--"

"NO!" Gabriella snapped. "Never think it!" The doors to Dumbledore's office opened and the three entered. Fawkes squawked and Harry would normally greet the bird, but Gabriella's reactions surprised him. She was clearly agitated, but didn't want to say more. Dumbledore decided to explain.

"It was the dragons, Harry. They tried to remain neutral, but their lands were being threatened, much as they were in the Carpathians. They decided to stop it." The expression on Gabriella's face was pained.

"Please, Professor," she pleaded.

"The truth is simply that... Ms. Potter," Dumbledore said, slipping into his chair. Both Harry and Gabriella looked at each other and then to their rings. Harry took her hand. Their bond, right now, was a second concern. Harry needed to know how to defeat the Dementors.

"But sir, if I could only--"

"They incinerated everything!" Gabriella snapped. "They purged the battlefields."

"They killed the Dementors? Their allies? Isn't that a good thing?" Harry asked.

"Not just the Dementors, Harry. Everything and everyone. Centaurs and Dementors, werewolves and wizards, it didn't matter what side they were on, they were all destroyed."

"The dragons called it a purge," added Dumbldore. "Truly a scorched earth policy. The destruction led to famine and plague. Its repercussions were felt for nearly a century. It was guilt over the devastation that turned Asha's heart to Gabriella's kin, the only humans that had ever shown them kindness. Although, some say it still bears the anger of the age, tempting those wizards who would try to control it."

"But couldn't the wizards just--"

"Not in those days," said Dumbledore. "In the earliest of times, dragons held the strongest of magic."

"They still do," said Gabriella shortly. Dumbledore nodded kindly in agreement, not willing to argue the point.

"But in the tapestry... the symbology... the dragon held the Viswa Vajra... to destroy ignorance and evil." Harry didn't notice how he clutched his own arm, nor did he hear how his voice was almost pleading for support.

"Can you think of a better definition for war, Harry?" Dumbledore asked simply. "During the second coming of Ebyrth, the dragons didn't care whose side was right. They only wanted the battle to stop. They chose the only logical path available - complete, combined annihilation of both sides. Since then, at the first sighting of Ebyrth, they have been courted by both sides to join their cause."

"And refused," Gabriella added.

"Until now," Dumbledore said. "And the champion of that cause bears not only the likeness of the dragon on his arm, but the symbol that represented Asha's very spirit, a spirit that killed everything to balance the scales of justice. And though you have been chosen by the Centaurs, dragons have never held any affection toward our forest friends. Knowing your connections, Lucius Malfoy chose to attack, hoping to rekindle the rift, hoping they would fight against each other once again so that he could get to you. He failed.

"Voldemort found himself in the middle of a battle that was already underway. He will not make the same mistake again. Through you, Harry, the power of the dragon remains undiminished. When the choice comes near and the darkness closes in from all sides, the choice of annihilation will be within your power. What then will you choose to stop the madness, Harry? It will not be Singehorn's breath of dragon fire that destroys; it will be your power, a power you have only just begun to understand."

"I won't destroy the whole fucking world to wipe away the darkness!" Harry asserted. "That's insane! I mean... erm... Sorry, sir."

"In the beginning, Harry, when first we begin our righteous journey, the precipice is never so clear. The crevasse opens with the simplest of things: the bending of good and right for noble causes; the abandonment of justice in favour of expediency; the temptation that, because we are more powerful, we are somehow wiser. Harry, I wanted to show you the tapestry because you needed to see it; to truly understand the history that is now at work, a history that must be woven into the decisions you will make, decisions that I will soon not be able to advise you on."

At these words, cold darts buried themselves deep into Harry's heart. He'd heard Macleta's words, but...

"What do you mean?" he asked, already knowing the answer. Dumbledore leaned back into his chair.

"I am dying."

There was a raucous cacophony of protest by all the Headmasters and Headmistresses within the portraits that adorned Dumbledore's office. He held up his arms to quiet them.

"Why?" Harry asked, ready to attack the foe, or heal the illness. "What happened?"

"Time, Harry," Dumbledore said tenderly. "The one warrior we can never defeat." There was a pause and then he looked sadly at Gabriella.

"Two years ago, I would have seen the evil that darkened these walls. I would have been able to see the poison that had held James in its grip. The mist fogs my eyes and I no longer see as I once did. I can no longer draw, as I once was able, from the deep magic that permeates this school. Soon, the ability will fail me utterly. How you were able to flush him from your body--"

"Fire," Harry whispered, hardly able to speak. Dumbledore smiled.

"Of course." The old wizard nodded with approval. "You've both been tempered by the dragon. Very good, Harry. Very well done. When the time comes, I'm confident you will be ready. You would do well to listen to the very capable witch at your side. You must both be ready, for he has again escaped. Another vessel was waiting; who I do not know. They had to leave the forest quickly. Perhaps by broom, or a flying beast of some sort, though I doubt it; Tom hates heights. It was more likely a Portkey." Gabriella stepped to Dumbledore's desk and took his hand in hers.

"Sir," she said softly, "is there anything we can do. You know the talents of the Votary, of the gift Harry carries. Even time may be cheated for a little while." Dumbledore took her hands in both of his.

"I would see this battle through, if it was within my power, but the prophecy is clear it is not my war to win." His eyes fell upon Harry. "My only wish is that I would have come to know you and your family sooner." He let out a contented sigh. "I spoke with your mother just yesterday - a delightful woman. She offered me a delectable dish of desert pastries. Made by hand! Incredible! She was, of course with Remus, with whom I have been discussing transition plans."

"But, sir--"

"Enough, Harry!" Dumbledore cut in. "Like many of those I hold dear, I've written you a letter. Though I must say, yours is one of my better efforts. I think you'll find, when you open it, a rather..." His blue eyes twinkled with delight. "What will be can wait till it is. What is must be acted upon now."

Dumbledore rose from his chair, stepped from behind his desk and walked toward the silver instrument about which pinpricks of light floated randomly. At least, it looked random to Harry. Dumbledore examined each glowing point with interest. There was a large cluster he was particularly concerned with.

"Lucius Malfoy," said the Headmaster, his eyes never leaving the instrument, "has moved a large number of Death Eaters and Dementors into Greece. Curious. All within the last few hours. Wizards are Apparating in all over the country. The Dementors have abandoned their attacks on Centaur herds throughout the Carpathians and are moving south. It's as if they're dragging a net from the north down, looking for something... or someone."

"Cho's child," whispered Gabriella with a furtive glance toward Harry. Dumbledore didn't raise an eyebrow.

"Sir, I've meant to tell you, but I swore. And now... you're dying... and I..."

"Go, on," Gabriella coaxed.

"Well... Cho had a baby last summer... my baby. His name is Jamie." The crow's feet of Dumbledore's eyes rose jovially and the blue behind the half-moon spectacles flashed a deep azure. He placed a large hand on Harry's shoulder and smiled.

"Are you happy?" he asked.

"No... er, yes. I mean, I was," Harry sputtered. "He has a target the size of South Benton on his back. Voldemort intends to take him somehow. Use what spirit he has left and the blood that runs through Jamie's veins to bring himself back again."

"And Greece?"

Harry stood silent. He refused to say a word. Gabriella saw the pain on his face and decided to speak what Harry could not.

"They're in hiding," was all she said.

"I can imagine where," said Dumbledore, "but... strange. I visited Sirius just last summer and now... I can't remember..." His eyes fell on Harry. "You're the Secret Keeper."

"I won't--" Harry started, but Dumbledore stopped him.

"Nor should you," he said, his face suddenly appearing more forlorn and weary. "I told your parents to hide, to remain hidden in secret, to let only one know their whereabouts - it failed them.

"No place is safe, Harry. Wherever they are in Greece," his eyes fell back on the specs of light floating about the instrument, "they will be found. If you wait more than a few days to move them, the net will have been drawn too tight and they will not escape. If you move too quickly, without proper planning, you run the risk of a rash mistake and its consequences might... well, you understand more than any.

"You might consider moving them to the Ministry, where Arthur's private Aurors would offer some protection, but where there are more protectors, there are more betrayers.

"You could consider bringing them to Hogwarts, but there are dark forces at work here that even I cannot control. You have done much to bring the houses together. Are they ready to stand, to step up to the challenge of uniting against the darkness, or would they turn on you for bringing it here and putting them all at risk?"

Harry shook his head with uncertainty.

"You have a great decision to make, Harry. It is not to be taken lightly. As you can see, I am not yet dead, but I would guess that I will not see the end of the school year. I've asked Remus to take my place here and have coordinated it with the Minister. Remus is a powerful wizard, Harry. More powerful than you realize and yet, more importantly, he has a warm and caring soul.

Harry swallowed hard, not sure how he felt, or what he thought. "I love Remus with all my heart, sir," he said, "but he would have killed Draco last year given the chance." Harry watched as two more pinpricks of light appeared on the instrument.

"More Death Eaters?" he asked.

"Yes," answered Dumbledore.

"I... I want you to see him... see Jamie."

"I'm sorry, Harry, but that's no reason to risk his life," said Gabriella cautiously. Harry nodded.

"But--"

"Gabriella is right, Harry. But that does not mean we won't meet some day."

"Then... then I'll go... stay with him and protect them."

"And your oath to the Centaurs?" Gabriella asked. "The Dementors in the Carpathians may be moving south, but the Dementors in Britain are moving on the Great Forest here at Hogwarts." Harry growled and slammed his fist against the table.

"I didn't make these choices!" he cried. "They chose me!"

"You may not have chosen to have a child, Harry," said Dumbledore, "but you chose the actions that led down that path. You were drawn to the Darbinyans from the first day they arrived across the street. You may not have heard the dragon calling, but it was, and you answered." He looked down at the band wrapping Harry's ring finger. "And sometimes, as it was with the Centaurs, destiny is thrown upon us and all we are left to do is to live and love and... sometimes... fight.

"Think well upon what you must do, but do not dally. I will support your decision," Dumbledore smiled, "however foolish."

Harry stepped over to Albus Dumbledore and hugged him. Then he reached out and took Gabriella's hand and pulled her in as well. Fawkes let out a squawk as the three embraced. Finally, holding Gabriella's hand, Harry stepped back.

"Sir... would you... you are the closest person I have to being a father. Would you give us your blessing?"

"I would be honoured, Harry."

Dumbledore held out his hands and softly spoke a chant. A golden, glittering light grew from his hands until it filled the room, making it difficult to see. With Gabriella at his side, Harry could feel the golden light brush across his face, penetrate his body and warm his soul. When the light faded, Dumbledore looked fatigued. He moved back to his desk to sit down and Harry knew that it was time to go.

"Thank you, sir," he said. "I'll think about what we've talked about."

Harry and Gabriella were about to leave when Dumbledore stopped them.

"Harry," he called, still looking down at the mahogany top of his desk, "when was Jamie born?"

"Harry and Jamie have the same birthday," Gabriella answered brightly.

"A wonderful surprise," Dumbledore said with a nod of his head. "Wonderful."

Again they moved to leave. Harry had opened the door when Dumbledore called one more time.

"Harry, has Cho ever faced Voldemort?" Harry looked perplexed, not understanding the question. "Since Voldemort came to life after the Tri-Wizard Tournament, has she ever seen him?"

"No, sir," said Harry shaking his head. "I battled him at the cemetery and then again at the Ministry. She was never with me."

Dumbledore's eyebrows furled and he gave his head a sharp shake, as if trying to bust loose a spider clinging to his beard that just wouldn't let itself loose. The problem was, this spider was weaving a web with each passing moment, becoming more entangled and entrenched. It would never let itself go, no matter how hard Dumbledore would try.

"And Gabriella..."

"Yes?"

"As I understand it, your custom is to bless the males of Harry's line, no matter their mothers. Has Jamie received Asha's blessing?"

"I had just finished and was returning home when I was taken by Malfoy's Death Eaters."

"Did Cho or Anthony know that's what you were doing?"

"The specific blessing will be revealed to Jamie, and only Jamie, when Asha deems it so. Even I do not know what its nature will take." Seemingly satisfied, Dumbledore nodded at the information.

"Enjoy the sun," he said with a wave of his hand. Harry was sure he felt a slight shove push him through the door. "And please, should you get the opportunity, tell Patrick O'Riley to report to my office."

"Yes, sir," they said in unison.

Streaming through the windows high above, the sun was warm and bright, as the two made their way down the corridor from Dumbledore's office. It would be a glorious day and, before too long, signs of spring would begin to emerge in the barren soils about the castle grounds. Neither felt like talking. Gabriella had been shaken, reminded of the terrible power held by the Heart of Asha, and the responsibility that was hers to see that such destruction never happen again. Harry's thoughts, to the contrary, were not about power, nor about responsibility. Harry's thoughts were swirling about family and love and loss. They were nearly to the front entrance when his hand tightened about Gabriella's. He was suddenly finding it hard to breathe. Fighting back the mist in his eyes, he stopped and looked to the blue sky above. Yes, it would be a glorious day. He stood there for a moment, locked in a silent prayer and then fell to his knees and wept.