The Return of the Griffin

Chapter Seven

Harry sat at the large wooden table facing Maggie. "Here are my notes from the dreams I've been having," he said heavily, handing over the Muggle pad of paper he had been using.

"Harry, you can't expect to get all the details that way. I have a better way. Do you still have your Pensieve?"

"Yeah, but what good will that do?"

"Ginny, would you go get Harry's Pensieve?" Maggie asked, then turned her attention back to Harry.

" For goodness sake, Harry. Just because you can't do magic anymore, doesn't mean we can't USE it. I talked to Dumbledore about this. It will work just fine. I'll remove the memories from your head. You just need to focus on the dreams while I do it."

Great, Harry thought to himself bitterly, more stuff I can't do on my own.

Ginny came back from their room carrying the stone bowl whose lip was engraved with various runes. Maggie pulled her wand from her robes, and moved to stand next to Harry.

"Ready?" Maggie asked. Harry nodded abruptly. He focused on the first dream, where he was flying as a griffin again and watched as a wispy golden fog followed Maggie's wand from his temple. She dropped it into the Pensieve and then returned the tip to his temple.

"Gold? I thought they were silver?"

"These are dreams, Harry. They don't work the same as memories. They won't last more than three or four days in the Pensieve either. They'll evaporate. Next?"

Harry concentrated on the dream with Rodney Jeffries, and the strange prophecy that Maggie told him. The second shimmering gold mist followed the first. It wasn't long before the Pensieve was full. Ginny and Charlie sat at the table across from Harry, watching intently. Molly was puttering about at the counter, but he could tell that she was just as concerned.

Maggie sat at the head of the table when she finished and swirled the gold matter with her wand. "Let's see what patterns emerge, shall we?" she murmured more to herself than anyone present at the table.

"Dragons, well we know that, the griffin is what the mother wants, and you...you know the Mother, Harry?" She looked up surprised.

Harry nodded glumly, "That is what the dragon I spoke with said this morning. I don't know how though. The only other dragons I ever came in contact with were the Swedish Short Snouts at Stonehenge and the Hungarian Horntail my fourth year."

Maggie nodded and continued, once again muttering to herself.

"Balance, lack of balance, the griffin returns balance. How to get the griffin...What's this?" Maggie actually looked frightened.

"How did you know this? How did you see this??" Maggie's wand clattered to the table.

"What is it Maggie?" Ginny asked, concerned.

"The prophecy. Harry, you saw that prophecy. But how?" she whispered.

"You know that prophecy already?" asked Harry a bit fearfully then realization dawned on him. "It was real?"

"I made it in the early spring. Severus was with me. We didn't know who it was about. We should have guessed," she sighed. "Well, that answers a few questions, I guess."

She picked up her wand, and cautiously began stirring up the thoughts again. "The dragon again, has it been in all the dreams?" she asked Harry.

"Most of them. Mushussu said I had been in their dreams as well."

"Mushussu, you say?" Maggie tapped a finger to her chin. "Was that the dragon you spoke to this morning?" Harry nodded.

"Well, that changes a few things. This requires a bit of discussion." She stood up from her seat, and walked over to the smaller fireplace in the kitchen. She sprinkled the fire with Floo Powder and called out, "Albus Dumbledore".

"Albus, do you have a few moments?" she asked when his face popped into the grate. Harry took a few moments to observe him.

His face was quite a bit gaunter than the last time he saw him, and he looked exceptionally tired. Harry was surprised as well, since he could see past Dumbledore's face a bit, and it looked as though scrolls and scrolls of crumbling parchment were piled on either side of his fire.

"I always have a moment for you, Margaret," he replied generously.

"Well, I need some assistance, if you could see your way to Flooing over," Maggie requested. Dumbledore looked over her shoulder, meeting Harry's gaze momentarily. An indefinable look passed quickly over his face before he accepted.

"Let me just tell Minerva that I'm leaving the castle, and I will be with you shortly," informed Dumbledore before popping back out of the fire grate.

Before Dumbledore could show up, Arthur Apparated home from the Ministry. Molly harangued him about the late night, and placed a plate of food before him at the table.

"You really shouldn't have to work so late! You've had hardly any time to spend with the grandchildren; they're already in bed! If you'd only retire..."

Harry smiled wanly at what sounded like an old argument. He sat at the table, hunched over his folded hands. Maggie went back to stirring the memories in Pensieve, hoping to see something new. Arthur ate while the others were just silent. Why was he seeing real prophecies in his dreams? Or talking with dragons that he ended up meeting? He wasn't a seer--that was Maggie. He couldn't wait until Dumbledore showed up and reminded everyone that it was nothing, since Harry was just a Squib. At least in America, no one expected him to save the world. The people here didn't know how to deal with a powerless Harry.

Dumbledore entered quietly from the living room. He smiled wearily at everyone present. Harry looked in shock. Dumbledore's face was even gaunter than the Floo had shown, and his skin was taking on the dull gray opaqueness of the very old or very ill. His body's movements still flowed, but it was much slower than Harry remembered.

"Albus!" Molly called out, rushing to him. She gave him a hearty hug and then offered, "Let me get you a chair."

"Thank you, Molly, Thank you."

Harry stood for a moment, staring at his mentor and friend. He then rose and came to Dumbledore, giving him a large hug. Harry closed his mind to the thought that he even felt less substantial.

"Ah, Harry, my boy. I have missed you." Dumbledore murmured so that only Harry could hear.

There were the general rumblings of welcome, before Dumbledore settled into a chair between Maggie and Harry, in front of the Pensieve. Harry caught him giving Maggie a look when he noticed the stone bowl.

"So, now that the pleasantries are out of the way. What is it you need of me?" Dumbledore asked Maggie.

"What can you tell me about Mushussu?"

Dumbledore sat up straighter, startled. Harry looked at the two questioningly. "Why would he know about Mushussu? I mean, you couldn't have known the dragon's name before this morning." Dumbledore exchanged another look with Maggie.

"Just some research a doddering old wizard was involved with, Harry. Nothing more. The name Mushussu is a Sumerian. How familiar are you with Sumerian history, Harry?" Dumbledore looked over his glasses.

"Not much call for it," he replied.

"Well, I've been spending some time studying it. Mushussu is the son of a famous goddess, the mother of all dragons actually."

Harry gulped. "The mother?"

"I think we can agree you are not a seer, therefore these dreams have to have an external force behind them. There is some connection between you and the dragons, can you not think of what that is, Harry?"

Harry thought about the griffin in his dreams but dismissed it. Damn it, he was a Squib. There was nothing he could do about that now. Harry shook his head.

"Harry, the mother of all dragons is Tiamat," he informed quietly. Dumbledore looked at him with great sadness in his eyes. "Somehow, you are the key to all this."

Harry panicked hearing this. He couldn't possibly be. Dumbledore had to be wrong. "That's not who I am anymore," Harry murmured in distress then his voice gained volume. Everyone in the room stopped what they were doing, watching Harry with pity. "That isn't who I am anymore!" He looked at Albus beseeching him to take it back. For once, he avoided Harry's gaze. "I did it once! I'm not doing it again! The whole fate of the wizarding world does not rest on my shoulders. It can't! I'm a bloody Squib! I can't do this!" he fell into his arms, the tears flowing freely.

"Why couldn't she just leave well enough alone? Seven years I've lived without it, and now she has to pull something to make me really feel it? Like I haven't been miserable enough?" Dumbledore laid his hand on Harry's shoulder in sympathy, but he jerked it off, standing then pacing the kitchen floor.

"All of you, you're acting like I'm the last hope, a savior. I'm not! I'm not powerful--I'm not a wizard! I'm not THAT HARRY! Everyone looks at me, I'm the ruddy boy-that-lived, the god-damned conqueror of Voldemort and Death. And no one questions...no one even THINKS...the only magic I CAN do anymore...is talking to snakes because of Voldemort. So I have to thank HIM everyday for having one link to my past. I wish I didn't even have that," he said bitterly. Everyone stared at Harry, feeling a bit guilty for placing such expectations on him, not realizing the depth of his pain.

"Harry, you can't mean that...." Ginny whispered in shock.

"The hell I don't! The one piece of magic I have, I have to thank Tom Riddle for? I don't want anything from him!" Ginny yanked him down next to her and made him look her in the face.

"Now you stop that now, Harry James Potter," she said angrily. "This isn't just about you. We've spent the last seven years away from friends and family who loved us because you didn't want to face this. I accepted that, but I don't care if you're a Squib, or a bloody Muggle. Magic does not define who you are, and if the last seven years don't prove that, then there is nothing I can do to convince you." Ginny stood up quickly and murmuring an apology to the rest, left the room.

Harry watched her leave through bleary eyes. "Oh, bloody hell." He consciously took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair. "You must all think I'm an incredible prat." He used the heels of his hands to wipe his eyes dry.

Molly came to stand behind him, putting her hands on his shoulders and handed him a handkerchief. "Oh, no, Harry. Of course we don't. It's just such a...transition."

"We still need your help though, Harry. We know it's hard and if we could do it without you, you know we would," Charlie added.

Harry felt Dumbledore's eyes on him before he looked up to see them. He could see the deep remorse in his eyes. He knows how I feel, Harry thought.

"The mother is Tiamat. Since I seem to be the only person alive who has ever spoken with her, I guess it makes sense that it has to do with me."

"I need to ask you to do two more things, Harry, if you don't mind," Albus requested quietly.

"What?"

"There is one more memory I want to add to the Pensieve. I want your journey to the underworld. When you performed the Enuma Elish."

Harry startled. He spent much time trying to forget that. It was private; it was his pain. Then the voice of reason broke in. If that was where he spoke with Tiamat, then that would be the link that needs to be studied. Harry nodded curtly in agreement.

Harry stood up and moved back to his original seat next to Dumbledore. He pulled the Pensieve closer and watched as Albus removed his wand, and pointed it to Harry's temple.

"Do you have it in your mind?" Harry nodded tersely.

The silver strand pulled away from his face, shimmering and growing longer. Dumbledore put the tip of his wand into the Pensieve, then returned to his temple, murmuring something about a long memory. The strand kept growing, longer and longer. In one way, it was a relief to be rid of it, only a vague memory, instead of the clear-cut images of Jamie, his mother and Draco hanging dead in the cavern. He shuddered as the image of darkness passed through, and the strand ended.

Harry watched as Albus stirred the Pensieve. The gold and silver worked together, giving a sort of platinum sheen to the thoughts placed there. He thought he saw a look of hope cross Dumbledore's face, but it was so brief, he could have imagined it.

"I will study this closer when I return to Hogwarts," he said heavily. "I imagine it will take some time to go through it all." Harry smiled wanly when he tapped the edge of the Pensieve, and used the same charm Ginny used on Tory's cup to keep it from spilling.

"Albus," Harry said, feeling distinctly odd calling him by his first name. "You said you had two requests."

"Indeed I did. We had discussed this possibility before, knowing you were having dreams...but not how detailed they were. We want you to visit St. Mungo's tomorrow."

"Okay, look, I said I was sorry, and I was out of line, but really. I'm not daft or anything."

"No, no, nothing like that, Harry. We want you to take a Squib test."

"Do you think that wise, Albus?" Arthur broke in. "It's been years since it's happened."

"A Squib test? What in the ruddy hell is that?" asked Harry.

Arthur began to speak after Dumbledore nodded to him. "There are different levels of Squibs, Harry. And they can happen different ways. Children from wizarding families who don't show any magical prowess are often tested before entering Hogwarts." Harry thought back to a vague memory of Neville mentioning how he was nearly a Squib in their first year. He nodded in response.

"The other main way it happens is in cases of magical removal. Dementors were the most common way. Wizards leaving the old Azkaban would be tested to see how much magic they still held."

"So why test me? I'm as Squib as you can get," Harry asked, confused.

"A few reasons. First is you shouldn't be able to have those dreams," Albus interjected. "And you were never tested before you left for America. An oversight on our part, certainly, but understandable under the circumstances."

"If you feel it's necessary. I'll go," Harry answered.

"We do. I wouldn't ask you otherwise, Harry, you've had quite enough to be going on with. I'll arrange the appointment. Nita had mentioned that she would be willing to perform the tests with you."

"It will be nice to spend some time with her. I didn't get to see her much last night," Harry acknowledged.

He was surprised when Albus pulled him into a surprisingly hard embrace considering his frailty. In that short physical contact, Harry felt as though he'd been dipped in a vat of well wishes and empathy. Dumbledore looked at him as he pulled away, his bright blue eyes twinkling.

"Very good then. I must be getting back to the Castle. Are you two coming?" Dumbledore looked at his two teachers.

"Of course. I'll carry that for you, Headmaster. It is rather heavy," Charlie said.

"Right behind you, Albus," Maggie added. She turned to Harry. "I'm sorry this is happening to you. But we all love you, you know. Go upstairs. Ginny is waiting for you." She winked and gave him a hug. "We'll talk to you after your Squib test tomorrow, okay?"

Harry hugged her back. "Thanks for not thinking I'm a total git."

"Oh, no, I can think of quite few people who deserve that title, and you aren't one of them." She squeezed him once more. "See you later. And Floo me if you have more dreams tonight."

Harry nodded as she released him. He watched the trio each take a turn popping through the Floo.

He turned to see Molly and Arthur behind him. Harry shrugged sheepishly. "I guess I need to go and make up with Ginny now."

They smiled at him and Molly called out to his receding back, "Don't forget to have Ginny put an imperturbable charm on the room!"

Harry blushed all the way up the stairs.

He reached entered the darkened room. Quietly, he removed his shoes, and pulled his robes over his head. He slid under the sheet on the bed, and reached out for Ginny.

Her body was tight and tense, and Harry sighed in relief, glad that she had not already gone to sleep.

"Hi," he said quietly.

"Hi," she answered back, just as low.

"Look, I'm sorry I was being a prat," Harry murmured into her hair, as he reached his arm around her waist.

Ginny nuzzled into him. "I know you're under a lot of stress and pressure, Harry. We all do. I just don't think it was very fair to take it out on my family."

"You've all missed out in order to give me my space. I may not act like it, but I recognize it. Appreciate it. But your mum's right, it's a transition. They've had seven years to get over the changes. I've just had to deal with the changes in me, not the world around me."

Ginny turned in Harry's arms to face him. "I haven't changed, Harry. If there was some way I could make this easier for you, I would. I love you," she whispered and kissed his lips softly. Harry felt like he was falling again and he deepened the kiss. His hands moved over her smooth skin, his hands tracing mythic designs on her back as her breasts pressed against his chest. He reveled in her groan of desire. She pulled away for a moment, grinning mischievously in the darkness. It didn't matter that he couldn't see her, he knew instinctively. She rolled him, straddling his waist. She reached above his head, and he heard her reach for her wand.

"I overheard Mum," she giggled. Harry groaned in embarrassment. With a wave and a flick, she sealed the room off, then dove beneath the covers. Harry moaned in desire as her lips did incredible things to his body, making him forget everything but the satin silkiness of her hair against his thigh, the feel of her warm moist mouth and the scent that was solely her.

Much later, just before he fell asleep he realized all three of them--Albus, Maggie and Charlie-- had Flooed to Albus' office.