Harry Potter and the Burden of Becoming

Harry Potter and the Burden of Becoming

Chapter 71 - The Return of Ebyrth

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It's a wonderful thing really, what the heart feels when darkness passes and light shines brightly in its wake. Somewhat like the splendidly clean smell of rain after a storm. But the violent storm that had just swept past the Wizarding world took with it many spirits and the days that followed Harry's return to Hogwarts were filled with ceremonies and funerals, colourful celebrations and dark remembrances. Spring, however, blustery and beautiful, was not to be outdone and the flowers that bloomed brilliantly on the castle grounds spoke of rebirth and renewal. A new spirit had taken back the land, and Professor Sinistra was singing its praises.

"Can you not feel it?" she asked the class as they approached N.E.W.T.s week. "The balance has been renewed!" And indeed Harry and the others had felt it, an energy that flowed from the world all around them that strengthened their magical abilities. On the eve before Gryffindor's match with Slytherin, Katie Bell revealed that she was an Animagus, and transformed into a peregrine falcon. She flew gracefully about the common room and Harry not could think of a more fitting creature for the Gryffindor Chaser. The sight helped diminish his disappointment that he would not be facing his arch rival in the air.

Draco did not return to Hogwarts after the battle at the Ministry and the entire school noted his absence. Rumors flew that his mother, Narcissa, had fled with Lucius and that Draco had been killed, swallowed by the pit that had opened up beneath the Ministry's death chamber. Harry, the only one who saw Draco Disapparate with his father, said nothing to the contrary. In his heart, there was still hope that Draco might someday return. A return that promised to be greeted warmly since Ron had told the story of how Draco had saved his life. It was a story that earned the redhead much more respect within the Slytherin walls where, with Voldemort gone, many of the students wearing green spoke out against the Dark Lord, none more fervently than Gabriella.

On the morning of the year's last Quidditch match, however, she demonstrated her true loyalties. Just after breakfast she kissed Harry on the lips wishing him luck, and then hexed him so that his hair turned a brilliant green. He considered going bald, vanishing his hair altogether before flying out onto the pitch, but instead left it green as his own personal tribute to Draco. Once he was in the air on his Caduceus, all thoughts of death and exams slipped from Harry's mind. As the battle between Gryffindor and Slytherin went on, he couldn't help but grin every time he passed by the Gryffindor stands. There sat both Sirius and Lupin, side-by-side cheering him on.

With Ron playing Keeper for Slytherin and Draco absent, the match unfolded as expected; Gryffindor scored only one goal and only after Ginny made a joke about Ron walking around the Ministry naked. Enraged, he moved out toward her just as Dennis slipped the Quaffle through. On the other end of the pitch, Slytherin scored at will. In the end, when Harry caught the Snitch, the entire stadium erupted in cheers, not so much for the victors of the Quidditch Cup, but rather for the love of the game and quite possibly because it was their first chance to cheer about anything since so many had died at the Ministry and during the retaking of the Burrow.

Both the Slytherin and Gryffindor teams were surrounded once they lit onto the turf of the pitch. Harry congratulated Ron for a match well fought when the coach of the Magpies, Bernard Bennegin, walked over to the redhead and the two disappeared into the gathering crowd. Harry was slapped soundly on the shoulder from members of every house. He was also hugged by many girls he didn't even know, a few more times than Gabriella cared for, as they made their way to the school feast.

That afternoon and into the night, all of Hogwarts celebrated as more than butterbeer found its way into a few students' gullets. It was the last chance to unwind before N.E.W.T.s started and everyone was taking advantage; fireworks swooped and blasted throughout the castle. In the Great Hall many parents came to eat with their children and the feast broke out onto the warm castle grounds lit by a soft evening twilight. Still sporting brilliant green hair, Harry and Gabriella were seated at a table enjoying their meal with the Weasley family, Lupin, Tonks and Sirius Black.

Harry's godfather had emerged from the Curtain of Phenolem the same as when he passed in, wand in hand and ready to battle. It had taken him some time to understand that the new battle raging before him was different than the battle he had left. Although he would not speak of how much time he thought had passed beyond the veil. His body was whole, his mind clear, and his appetite ravenous.

"Gab," Sirius asked, pointing at her plate, "are you going to eat that piece of chicken?"

"No," she said with a smile, and passed him the leg. Sirius held it up to her in toast.

"I would never have believed it," said Sirius smiling, his mouth half full, "if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes -- a Slytherin offering Sirius Black dinner!"

"Hey," injected Tonks, poking him in the ribs, "I was in Slytherin."

"And have you ever offered me so much as a crumb from off your plate?" he queried indignantly. Tonks did not reply. "A dog remembers these things!" Everyone laughed.

"It's the year for miracles, Sirius" said Arthur Weasley brightly. "You're living proof. Tell us, what was it like behind the veil?" Sirius took a bite of biscuit and scooted out from the table still holding his chicken leg and walked toward the twins who were handing out fireworks free to any first year.

"Fred, George," called Sirius still smiling, "tell me how you get the blue rocket to explode in the shape of Dumbledore's face." He grabbed a boy in each arm and walked away from the group.

Harry was thankful that the papers were still declaring Sirius a hero, the only known soul alive that had returned from beyond the veil. But whatever happened on the other side of the curtain he would not speak of. And after a few days Harry knew not to ask; Sirius would tell the story himself whenever the time was right.

In the days that followed the Quidditch match, things settled down as N.E.W.T. exams became all consuming. On the few occasions that Gabriella and Harry had time to spend with each other they would visit Hagrid, and walk the gardens behind his hut. Her brother had returned home to Privet Drive and it had been difficult to keep her mind focused on her studies, but Soseh had insisted that she see the term through and Harry was the touchstone that made it possible. Occasionally, their paths behind Hagrid's hut would take them to more remote locations and they would catch glimpses of Centaurs skirting the Forbidden Forest.

"It's like they're watching you," Gabriella would whisper, and while Harry said the idea was absurd, he couldn't help but think she might be right. Even Hagrid had noticed that something was stirring in the forest, and he wondered what it was.

On the eve of the new moon, after having administered his N.E.W.T. exam in Divination, Firenze announced he was returning to the forest. It was a shock to Parvati and Lavender who wept bitterly about it all through dinner. After the meal, Firenze asked that only Professor Dumbledore and Harry see him off. Together the three walked to the edge of the forest, stopped, and as darkness fell watched the stars grow brighter and brighter. They stood quietly for some time. So long in fact that Harry was starting to get a bit restless; he had his transfiguration exam tomorrow. Nonetheless, seeing Dumbledore's patience, he waited for the Centaur to say goodbye. At about the point where Harry was seriously considering saying he had to use the toilet, Firenze raised his hand toward the eastern part of the sky.

"Can you see it?" he asked with a deep resonating tone. Both Harry and Dumbledore turned to look where his finger was pointed just above the trees. Dumbledore shook his head.

"I'm afraid, Firenze, that my eyes are not what they used to be."

"Ebyrth returns," said the Centaur with a dry, hollow tone.

Harry's heart skipped; he'd heard those words before, when he was being taken to the falls.

"Are you sure?" asked Dumbledore with a hint of surprise, but then reeled back his own words. "Of course you are." The wizard let out a deep sigh. "I thought as much." Firenze's hoof clawed the ground.

"Despite my past transgression, I have been asked to return," said Firenze. "Preparations need to be made." The words were sad and foreboding. "We are far too few." He looked down at Harry and what might be considered a smile came across the Centaur's face. "We will meet again, Harry Potter." The Centaur bowed his head and Harry returned the gesture.

"If ever I can help, I will," said Harry solemnly, not really sure why Firenze was being so glum.

"I know," said Firenze with a gaze that held much more meaning than the two words, and then he turned and disappeared into the forest.

Harry started to ask Dumbledore what had just happened, but the Headmaster silenced him with a finger to his lips, and beckoned him to follow. The two did not say another word until they climbed the circular staircase and entered Dumbledore's office. It was the first time they had been alone since the battle at the Ministry.

In the days after the attack, no one had seen Professor Dumbledore and many questioned why he hadn't been at the Ministry once it was discovered that Voldemort was there. Nor had he come to assist the Ministry battling at the Burrow. He was first seen on the day of the Quidditch match and appeared to grimace some when he lifted the Quidditch Cup to the victors. Still, even Mr. Weasley was a bit cool toward him during the great feast on Saturday. The Daily Prophet challenged that he had turned the coward in his advanced age, but Harry assured all that he was playing a vital role elsewhere, secret and hidden. No one dared challenge the story to his face, although he wondered as well where Dumbledore had been. Now the wizened wizard sat behind his desk as inscrutable as ever. It was Harry who began.

"Ebyrth?" he asked.

"A comet, Harry," answered Professor Dumbledore, "nothing more, nothing less."

"Then why--"

"Because the Centaurs believe it to be an omen, and I must say I can understand why." Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and folded his hands together. "This particular comet is... unusual. Most such celestial bodies are quite periodic by nature; Halley's Comet for example returns to visit the sun every 76 years or so. Ebyrth obeys no such pattern. Since before the time of Merlin when Centaurs roamed freely over all Europe, Ebyrth has returned six times. Six hundred years marked the largest span of peace, three the shortest. It has now been nearly a hundred years."

"Peace?" asked Harry.

"You may have noticed that Centaurs are not what one might call... emotional."

"No, sir, they're not," said Harry, stopping short from adding that they were pure boring when they weren't shooting arrows at you.

"It is a skill they have developed for times of war, war with their arch enemies, war that always takes place upon the return of Ebyrth, war against the Dementors." Dumbledore rose from his desk and showed a portrait of a Centaur locked in battle with a dark hooded figure. "It has been an ageless battle, marked by periods of peace when one side or the other is given to helping the quests of others."

"The war is over," declared Harry. "We won!"

"Won the war, Harry?" asked Dumbledore. "The battle, perhaps."

"But Voldemort... I saw him; I felt him. He's gone, I know it!"

"I believe you learned first hand that Tom Riddle did not hold supreme reign over darkness, Harry. Anaxarete was proof enough of that." Dumbledore left his chair and walked over to look at the portraits of the previous headmasters of Hogwarts. Nearly all feigned sleep. "And you know that the Dark Lord has taken many precautions to avoid death."

"He's dead!" said Harry, but the determination of his words was waning. Dumbledore walked over to a candelabrum that was burning four candles and, save for the four flickering flames, quenched all other light in his office.

"Can you not see it, Harry? The darkness is all around us, forever present, ever ready to seep in where light does not beat it back." He extinguished one of the candles and the light of the room dimmed. "All it takes is fear," he extinguished another candle, "and enmity," another, "and hate," the room fell dark, "and the world becomes a very bleak and cold place once again. You, Harry, you brought us back from the brink. You brought unity here at Hogwarts." A single candle glowed. "You brought unity between house elves and wizards, wizards and giants." The second candle glowed. "You fought for those you loved," the third candle glowed, "and forgave those who you would otherwise hate." All the candles in Dumbledore's office lit bright and for a moment Harry had to shield his eyes. "But, Harry, the darkness is always there, waiting for its next opportunity, and I'm afraid the return of Ebyrth marks more than the day Centaurs and Dementors return to battle."

"The smoke," Harry whispered. "Grigor used to play magic tricks for Gabriella and Antreas when they were younger. He would disappear in a cloud of smoke." Harry replayed the scene of Voldemort's death in his mind. "But he washed away, Professor. He's gone; what I saw was no parlor trick."

"Perhaps, Harry... perhaps," answered Dumbledore choosing carefully not to commit. "But the Dementors have certainly left the side of Wizards and, with Ebyrth's return, will no doubt rekindle old hatreds." The professor climbed three steps up to view the telescope in his office. "Other than the fact that the comet passes through some time window in space, I doubt that it holds any true power or significance." He sighed. "Dementors and Centaurs will battle because they now believe they must. There are so few Centaurs that Firenze was called to join the herd."

"But what does that have to do with me?" asked Harry.

"I was hoping," said Dumbledore, looking down at Harry from his perch, "that you would tell me." For a moment Harry blinked, looking up at the wizard who was smiling knowingly down on him. There was something immutable about his features; the flecked grayness in his beard, the shape of his smile, and the look in his eyes were ominously familiar.

"Well?" Dumbledore asked again, breaking Harry's gaze. Finally, Harry told him of the falls of Hogwarts and how he first came to find them.

"So you were their sacrifice," said Dumbledore, climbing down from the telescope. "By Centaur tradition, Ebyrth demands one when first seen. Most do not survive the test unless guided by another hand. There was no one else with you? They simply tossed you in?" He asked these words as if he didn't believe the original story.

"Butt naked," answered Harry. A smile crossed Dumbledore's eyes.

"If not, your clothes would have washed away, dissolved by the magic of the falls. Now you know why Centaurs believe that such things as robes are unclean." Dumbledore repositioned himself in his chair while Harry looked at the instruments in his office. "I have no idea what the year will bring, Harry, but now is not the time to let down your guard." Harry looked closely at one instrument in particular, the one that Dumbledore had used to watch the various points of light, members of the Order, Harry thought. Unable to sleuth its operation, he turned to look back at the headmaster and sighed.

"So I'll be going back to Privet Drive then, sir?"

"Until your birthday, Harry," answered Dumbledore. "It would be wisest. Then, I understand you have a small voyage planned."

Harry's eyes widened. He'd almost forgotten his Christmas present to Gabriella. And the thought that Dumbledore was giving him permission...

"You don't mind, sir?"

"Harry, I am honored that you so value my counsel, but you will be of age and the time has come for you to make your own choices. I have given my advice, be on your guard. Should you choose, after your birthday, to leave the Dursleys and live with Sirius he may have other requirements."

By the time Harry made it back to the Gryffindor common room, his face hurt from being pulled back in such a grand smile. They hadn't really talked about it, but he was sure Sirius would be happy to invite him in to Grimmauld Place, especially while Harry was training to be an Auror. Suddenly, the thought made the Gryffindor pause outside the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Password?" she asked, but Harry walked over against the wall and looked down at the drips of black that still stained the floor.

For the first time since he could remember he questioned if being an Auror was his calling. The Darbinyan women had led him to his true gift -- healing. He stood there flicking his wand at the carpet with no success as he wondered what it might be like if he and Gabriella set up there own Healers practice, maybe with Ron and Hermione. A great burden pressed down on him as he pondered his role in yet a new war; he didn't feel much like fighting any more.

When he finally entered the common room, he found Lavender and Parvati had only slightly recovered from their glum moods and he didn't have the heart to tell them that Firenze had just been conscripted to fight a new war. He would wait to tell of the return of Ebyrth and of the dark tidings it carried in its brightening glow.

The next day, after their Transfiguration N.E.W.T., Ron was distraught. Professor McGonagall had said that students unable to complete the transfiguration of a pillow into a goose and back again would have to withdraw from the class. Ron transfigured the pillow into a goose without trouble, and thought he had properly reversed the spell. Professor McGonagall was giving him high praise when the pillow waddled off the desk and fell to the floor, two webbed feet protruding from the bottom. After the exam, Ron and Hermione joined Harry and Gabriella down by the lake. Everyone's shoes were off as they enjoyed a beautiful blue sky and poked their toes into the lake's wet sandy bank.

"I'm sure she'll pass you," consoled Hermione holding Ron's hand in her own. "It's an easy mistake."

"It wasn't a mistake," Ron spat. "I was distracted!"

"I understand, sweetie," she said kissing his cheek, but she didn't seem to believe him and that made Ron angrier.

"NO you DON'T understand!" he yelled, pulling away from Hermione. There was something roiling on his insides and nobody could sense what it was.

"Ron," asked Harry with concern, "what's up?"

"Parkinson," Ron hissed through his teeth. "Park-in-son..." but he didn't finish.

"You swore not to," said Gabriella as if hearing something no one else could. There was a pause and then she said, "This summer?"

"Okay you two," interrupted Hermione, "we've talked about this before. If you're going to have a conversation--"

"Sorry," said Gabriella, "But his emotions are on the tip of his lips... or something like that."

Ron had taken to refining his skill in Legilimens, but had sworn to only use his gift on the willing. While the other three could always open their minds to tell him things, he had trouble speaking back his own thoughts. It was easiest with Gabriella, but she always spoke her thoughts so others could hear; Ron did not. Nor, at this moment, did he seem inclined to.

"I saw her," Ron said to Gabriella. "During my exam, she was thinking about it." He was clearly agitated, and was getting worse by the minute.

"Harry mentioned it," answered Gabriella. "He wrote about your arguments in his letters."

"Are you talking about Dean?" asked Hermione, but Ron wouldn't say. He looked like a pressure cooker ready to explode.

"We can find out, if you wish," said Gabriella, "tonight in the common room. I will talk to her and focus her thoughts; you can read beyond her words."

"Ron," chided Hermione, "you said you weren't going to--"

"This is different!" Ron shot back. "If I'm right..." He held out his wand in front of him and, pointing it upward, started spinning it in a small circle. A cloud formed turning into a tiny tornado that fluttered across the lake sucking fish up and tossing them into the air as it traveled along. It was a level of magic rarely seen from Ron Weasley, and it made Hermione a bit uneasy. Harry noted the concern in Hermione's eyes.

"Ron," he said, "I think you made an oath." Ron remembered their visit to the falls, and glared back at Harry.

"An oath?" asked Hermione. Harry was surprised that they had not yet spoken of it.

"Yeah," said Ron ignoring Hermione and answering Harry, "I agreed. But... if I'm right... if I'm right, I'm going to kill--"

"Well, look who we have here!" sneered a voice from behind them. "I would have thought that members of my own house could discern the proper associates. But then you're both tainted I suppose."

It was Professor Snape; he was striding toward them by the lake with a large empty glass jar in his arms. With the sky blue and the sun warm, he would usually still be wearing his thick black robes, but today he was not. It was the first time Harry had ever seen the professor in black pants and a white shirt. More amazing still was the fact that the sleeves on his white shirt were rolled up. As he stepped closer and passed the four to wade out into the lake up to his knees, Harry also noticed that his hair was clean; he actually looked presentable.

For a moment, Snape stared down at the water with the large jar under his left arm. He reached for his wand, but then slipped it back. Harry watched in amazement as a small smile creased Snape's lips and it had nothing to do with being vindictive, or spiteful, or inflicting some cruel punishment. Instead, it was as if he was recalling some small enjoyable memory from his childhood. Whatever it was he was about to do, he was enjoying himself. Snape scanned through the ripples of the water, then plunged his hand below its surface and pulled up a grindylow. "Always at dusk," he whispered with a grin. Then he filled the jar with water, stuffed the grindylow inside and screwed on the lid. A tremendous look of satisfaction crossed his face as he turned to head back to the castle. Just as he left the water, Harry stopped him.

"Excuse me professor," he beckoned. Snape turned back and looked at him with as smug an expression as he could muster.

"Yes, Potter?" Harry withdrew his wand and snapped it at Snape.

"Asciutto!" he called, and Snape's pants immediately dried. Snape looked down and found them perfectly creased. "I never got the chance to properly thank you for being there for Hermione at the Ministry, and for keeping Tonks out of trouble."

"Yes, sir," added Hermione. "It was quiet brave."

"Thank you," Snape answered, not really sure what to do next. As Snape paused, Harry noticed that the Dark Mark on the Death Eater's arm had disappeared; he wondered for how long, and hoped forever. Harry looked at his own pale white mark, a collection of designs representing the four houses and a uniting mark to destroy ignorance, and for the first time he was truly glad to see the scar there. Looking out across the grass and down the shore of the lake, students from all four houses were mixing and enjoying the sinking sun. Gabriella broke his trance.

"Professor, has there been no word from Draco?" she asked with sincere concern in her voice. Unease spread across Snape's face and he appeared to think about his answer for some time.

"I'm afraid not, Gabriella," he answered. "But not to worry; if he's alive I'll find him. I know where his heart lies, and it is here at Hogwarts." He gave Harry the briefest of looks, and then turned to Ron. "Mr. Weasley, have you taken care of your sock problem?" he asked. Ron's ears reddened.

"Y-Yes, professor," he answered, looking quickly to Snape but then down to the ground not holding anyone else's glance.

"Very good," said Professor Snape and then he looked at Gabriella and pointed at the jar. "For your N.E.W.T.," he whispered as if no one else could hear. "Enjoy the evening." And he walked briskly back to the castle.

"That was weird," said Harry. "Did you see his hair?"

"I don't know," said Gabriella. "He's always been quite kind to me considering I broke his arm."

"What's a grindylow got to do with your potions N.E.W.T.?" asked Ron.

"What sock problem?" asked Hermione, but Ron had already put on his shoes and was dusting the sand from his pants.

"Ready for dinner?" he asked, fiercely trying to change the subject.

Nobody bothered to ask more, knowing they'd get no reply, and they all returned to the castle.

The rest of N.E.W.T.s week was uneventful. Harry's last exam was in Potions and it appeared that everyone was more than prepared to mix the ingredients required for the anti-venom of a grindylow bite. Apparently, Gabriella and her friends at the lake were not the only ones given the same hint. Snape was exceptionally pleased with himself that everyone was doing so well, although Harry and the others were none too keen about having a grindylow bite their arms. When Snape finally dismissed the class, he wished them all a fine summer.

That night the Gryffindor common room was in full celebration. Harry had wanted to meet with Gabriella after dinner, but she said she had plans and that she'd come to get him later in the evening. Similarly, Hermione found herself alone after dinner. When Gabriella appeared at the portrait of the Fat Lady with beads of sweat rolling off her brow, both Gryffindors were concerned. Without asking permission she burst into the common room.

"Hey you can't--" started Neville, but Gabriella pushed him aside. She strode up to Harry with a look of fear in her eyes. Hermione walked over to the pair.

"What is it?" asked Harry. "What's wrong?"

Gabriella looked at Harry and then to Hermione.

"Is there somewhere we can talk?" she asked Harry.

"You can speak in front of Hermione," he said. Gabriella was torn, but decided it better to get Harry's help right away.

"It's Ron," she began slowly. "He's... angry." She stopped, and looked nervously at Hermione once again. "We found out what Pansy was hiding." Hermione looked a bit irritated that Ron had read Pansy's mind. Gabriella continued, "He said he was going to kill her, and I think...." She stopped herself from saying more.

"I know he has a grudge, but he's not going to kill anyone," said Harry dismissively. "Why, what did she do?"

"Last summer in Germany ... she held three men under the Imperius Curse... the same three that attacked Hermione."