Harry Potter and the Flesh of the Jade Guardian

Chapter 3: Furthering of the Dreams

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           The days drew on and before Harry could blink an eye, they were already two weeks into the first term. Sunday was drawing to a close and Harry shut his astronomy book having spent the last half hour gazing at the heavens with Ron, Hermione and the other fifth year Gryffindors.

"Finished?" he asked. Ron yawned and nodded and soon they were heading back down the tower for the boys' dormitory. They had all gotten a late start on homework because of a small ("Just a little do," Fred said as he set up the elaborate display of Filibuster Fireworks) eighteenth birthday party for Angelina Johnson.

Harry felt as if he were moving through water, he was so happily tired. He pulled on his pajamas and slipped into his four-poster. He could feel weariness ease over his mind like a glove. It drew him into slumber before the last lantern was blown out. As he began the limbo between awareness and sleep, he suddenly became very focused on the memory of the series of dreams that had plagued him. The same scene played over and over, and for a fortnight, the events they showed seemed not to progress.

As it was before, Harry was pulled into the world of the underground network of caves again, and this time, he hoped he would see what would happen to his mother. Slowly, his mind began to blur and he regained focus as the same cavern formed around him.

 Lily was staring at the creature that stood before her. It was a massive monster, about ten feet tall, conjured completely of stone. For such a bulky mass, it moved with grace and deadly precision. Lily knew the creature was forged from a complicated charm that gave life to inanimate objects and sure enough, a sizable chunk of the stone cavern wall was missing. Without thinking, Lily dived between its legs and stood up, looking frantically around for the sword. The creature charged her and she leaped behind the stone platform as the entire cavern shudder with old Stony's fury.

           "What do you want?" she cried out.

           "To eat you," it roared, jumping over the platform, as she scrambled to her feet.

           "You too?!" she cried out incredulously, fumbling for her wand. The monster dived at her again. She sidestepped it and ran all out towards the golden sword half covered in debris. Not quick enough.

With a deafening roar, the rock creature seized Lily around the ankles, bringing her crashing to the stone floor. Lily yelled in frustration, as she tried to kick it off. The sword was several feet in front of her head and she couldn't reach it.

"Come on, mum," Harry encouraged, trying unsuccessfully to kick the sword to his mother.

But Lily had her wand out.

"Accio!"

The sword flew to her and she caught it at the hilt. Swinging around, she yelled a stunning charm with her wand plunged into a hole in the creature's face that was barely recognizable as an eye socket.

Infuriated, the rock creature flew back enough for Lily to turn over and bring the sword weakly over her head. In a single swipe, the monster's head came crashing down, rolling several feet away from them. The creature stood up and began to frantically look around for its head, causing large amounts of dust to fall on her as it crashed blindly into the walls. Its head, which lay slightly crushed, was muttering several dirty, medieval curse words.

Lily gasped, looking down at the gold sword in her hand. It had magical significance after all, for no sword could slice through solid stone that easily. The rock creature was still bumping around clumsily. If Lily weren't attempting to flee for her life and complete her mission, she would have found the search quite amusing. Thinking quickly, she took the sword and her wand towards the jade stone that marked the line on the wall. The mark was only about three inches in length--the approximate width of the sword near the hilt.

"Curiouser and curiouser," Lily hissed as the mumbled directions from the mashed stone head continued to draw the headless body closer.

           "Here goes nothing," she murmured, raising the sword so that the blade was vertical, matched up to the line on the wall. With barely any pressure, she pushed the blade through the rock wall. The green stone gleamed suddenly and began to pulse, though it appeared cool. A bright green began to seep through her closed eyelids and a gold light engulfed her entire body. Suddenly, the cave wall melted away, revealing a beautiful hall, meticulously carved into the rock of the underground cave. The pillars gleamed, intricate carvings of ancient dark wizards and power-hungry lords adorned the walls, and though they did not move like modern day pictures or paintings, their eyes seemed to follow her as she passed them. To add to the hall's uninviting character, its ceiling was menacing, enchanted to reveal a stormy, gray, sky, where lightning cut violently. It lit the hall in harsh white light and eerily transformed the carvings into menacing images. The wall Lily had entered turned solid once more and she pressed on towards a soft gold light that emitted from an entrance at the other end. It was the only welcoming aspect of the underground caves so far. As she pressed on, whispers passed by her ears as if past holders of the pendant were claiming that it was theirs, not hers.

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           "Asking the spirits of the dead is a very inaccurate way of learning the future," Professor Trelawney said mysteriously. "Death is not an initiation to the world of Sight."

Ron smirked and turned to hide his face. Harry too, couldn't help but be amused by the spangle-decked woman's musing. This afternoon, he found himself sitting over a board emblazoned by a series of letters and numbers, trying to summon a spirit through a triangle indicator with Ron and Neville. Ron was too busy trying to spin the indicator off the board to take note of many of Trelawney's revelations.

The day had been long and rather gloomy. The sky was gray and occasional rolls of thunder moved through the heavens in the distance. Harry stifled a laugh as the triangle spun off the board and smacked Neville square on the forehead.

           "However," Trelawney paused acidly and eyed Harry's table, "they may very well offer insight on future fortunes, current choices...impending doom. The spirits can not be denied their higher observations."

She waved her hands over her own board, which was covered with intricate carvings and made from real mahogany.

"For now we will learn the history of the Spirit Board and why its use, while controversial, can be quite beneficial. We will attempt to Communicate at the end of class."

Harry groaned and leaned back in his chair. Ron was twirling his wand, and Neville looked as if he was having a hard time just trying to look alive. Trewlaney erupted into what promised to be a long, boring lecture, and before long, Ron was snoring.

Harry sighed and stared out at the gray sky, the claps of thunder began to roll over the grounds and it reminded him instantly of the enchanted passageway in his dream. The whispers that had followed his mother began to resonate softly around his own ears.

Surprised, Harry shot from his chair, turning towards Ron to find, with a sinking feeling, he was no longer in his Divinations class, but that very hallway. He turned around and saw his mother several yards in front of him and jogged towards her.

           "Hello?" Harry called after her, but she did not turn around or acknowledge his presence. He caught up with her. For a while, he trailed her silently and for a moment, the urge to touch her empowered him. A cold sweat broke out on his brow and his heart began to pound like the night he had watch the reflection of his mother and father emit for Voldemort's wand. But this was different. Lily was so solid before him, so very life like, alive with warm colors that contended violently with the menacing character of the hall. Unable to resist, Harry reached out to touch the young woman's shoulder to see his hand pass right through her.

           "She's not real," he murmured, feeling a lump rise in his throat. He wondered if his mind would ever stop torturing him.

With nothing else to do, Harry followed Lily deeper into the hallway and the whispering. The gold light at the end began to grow brighter, and Harry could now make out a pillared entrance. Lily Potter stopped before it and drew in a deep breath, grasping the gold sword and her wand before her. Harry followed her in and stared, wide-mouthed.

They had entered the most lavishly decorated room he had ever seen in his life. It was adorn by beautiful Greek inspired furniture and carvings, Indian silk pillows, and Asian print throws in soft, shiny silk. The walls were adorned with paintings, depicting medieval European countrysides and French castles, all in a circular cavern with black stone floors. It was so lavishly furnished, it seemed nearly cluttered, but it had a bit of beauty in each of its individual decors. In the center of the room stood a short, stone, pedestal where the plainest inhabitant of the room resided.

A flat, rectangular, jade piece on a delicate silver chain, from which the soft gold light seemed to emit, stared back at them. It was of the finest grain, lucid in hue, and absolutely brilliant, without a vein of white to contaminate its shade.

The sword clattered from his mother's fingers. She stepped towards the pendant. Standing before it, she pressed her left hand over the stone muttering softly, pointing her wand at it with her right.

           "Excio ad me vox," she said, her voice ringing through the circular chamber. Harry stepped closer and stood next to his mother, staring at the stone beneath her fingers. The jade piece began to glow, then rise, and at last, stopped in midair, appearing to be resting on an invisible throat. Slowly the form of a young girl began to form. Her hair was dark and floated around her as if caught in a wind, and her equally dark eyes peered down at them. But her bare body and features seemed cloudy and undistinguishable.

           "The Guardian," Lily murmured.

           "The what?" Harry asked shakily before remembering she could not hear him. The figure was speaking and his mother was paying ardent attention to her words.

           "Adsuevi exicio ad auditio," the Guardian said.

           "Awake to my voice," Lily returned. Harry got the impression it was the translation of the charm Lily had just recited.

           "I am awake and listening," the Guardian answered, the English strange from its clouded mouth. It's eyes, the clearest of its features, were penetrating, but seemed completely innocent. Lily turned away, shaking her head.

           "How is it you seem so peaceful," she murmured almost angrily, "but your existence has caused so much pain?"

A strange look melted over the Guardian's face as if it did not quite understand.

           "The Guardian guards the pendant for those who want power," it replied, though its steady voice wavered as it continued to stare at Lily. "But you do not want power. The Guardian does not understand."

Lily shook her head and returned her gaze back up to the Guardian. Slowly, the Guardian descended from the pedestal and moved so that it stood before Lily, Harry watching both of them from beside his mother.

           "I don't want power," Lily replied, knowing that it was the only part of the charm she couldn't master; she didn't have the cold desire for power. "But I have to take you. To prevent destruction." The Guardian gazed at her with an honest curiosity.

           "You are with child," it said, looking up at Lily penetratingly.

           "Yes," Lily answered. The Guardian was silent for a moment, looking thoughtfully at Lily.

           "You fear for your son's safety."

           "I do," Lily answered, a bit surprised. "After this, no more putting ourselves in danger."

Suddenly, the Guardian turned and faced Harry. Harry, who understood he was only an audience within his dream world, felt his jaw drop, shell-shocked.

           "Don't you see your gift to him?" the Guardian asked, pointing at him.

           "You can see me?" Harry said completely bewildered. Lily spun around, but found no one.

           "Gift to whom?" she asked puzzled.

The Guardian didn't answer, but lifted the pendent over its head and placed it over Lily's. It spoke again.

           "Adsuevi exicio ad auditio."

Lily stared at her in amazement. It was easily the most doable task in her mission so far. The spell would be complete. The room began to whirl and the Guardian melted into a flow of liquid light, gliding around Lily, shielding her from view. The Guardian's voice resounded again.

           "You have one desire," it said. "It is a desire needing power." And then the light became brighter and Lily grasped the pendent around her neck. The swirling glow seemed to stretch like a living entity, and it slipped around Harry too. He heard the Guardian's voice again, though it seemed his mother could not.

           "I return when darkness rises."

With that, the light encased them both and Harry gazed bewilderedly at his mother. Suddenly, Lily squinted at him. Harry's heart caught in his throat. She was looking straight at him.

           "Who are you?" she asked before the light faded away and so did she.

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           "Harry!"

           Harry flinched as his lids snapped opened, finding himself staring at a pair of exaggerated eyes.

"AHH!"

He tipped back in his chair, gasping at the sight of Trelawney's face. She looked mildly insulted.

Blushing furiously, Harry struggled to release the arms of his chair as several sniggers erupted around him.

           "If you and Ron find this too drab to follow," Professor Trelawney said huffily, "perhaps you two should leave."

           "No, no," Ron said shaking his head and picking up his quill. Glancing down to find his notes parchment blank, he hastily covered it with his arm. "We just had our eyes closed to...er...better concentrate on the...erm...the--"

           "Spirits," Harry completed hastily, fumbling to load his quill before succeeding in dribbling ink all across the table.

           "Really?" Trelawney asked, hardly convinced. "Then perhaps one of you will volunteer for our demonstrations."

           "Be delighted," Ron replied weakly. Still eying him with obvious irritation, she instead turned and beckoned Harry to stand.

           "Perhaps we will ask a more insightful student to help with this example," his professor said eyeing both boys suspiciously. "Parvati? Care to help Harry out?" Parvati, who was seated nearby, squealed happily and met Trewlaney and Harry who were now standing before the center table.

"Now remember," the spangled woman said airily, "you must relax, and never take the information given without consulting a true Seer--you need not worry this time, as I am here."

Harry groaned as he sat in a chair that was enchanted by Trelawney to pull itself up to the little table that held her Spirit Board. Parvati eagerly took the other chair that had pulled itself up beside Harry's. He sat, but was hardly able to concentrate on the board--instead he wondered if it was time to tell Ron about the strange dreams--but what if they were nothing? Yet, instinct told him, they were more than dreams...something was coming, and its reason was Voldemort's return.

           "All right, everyone clear your mind," Trelawney said, sweeping her right hand over her head, as if to wipe away her own thoughts. Parvati let out a breath of air and closed her eyes.

"Now, place the tips of your fingers onto the indicator--concentrate, my children."

Harry and Parvati placed their fingers on the indicator next to the professor's spindly ones.

"Now roll the indicator lightly. Be sure to let it take on its own movements..." Trelawney suddenly stopped talking, because the board was spelling something. Harry could feel the indicator drag rather forcefully over the letter "R". He looked over at Parvati who was staring at the board with mouth agape.

           "Is it doing that by itself?" she asked, looking at Trelawney who now was staring at it intently, looking just as surprised by the quick response. Harry wondered if the Divinations teacher was pulling a fast one on them. The indicator shot forcefully to "E". First "R" "E", then T-U-R-N.

           "Return..." Trelawney read. The indicator spelt out I-N-F-L-E-S-H. "In Flesh..." as Harry's breath caught in his throat. The words were familiar and he knew where they came from.

           "I return," Trelawney continued to read as the board spelt out R-I-S-E-S, "when darkness rises."

Her eyes bulged from behind her bejeweled spectacles as the indicator stopped abruptly in the middle of the board.

           "I return in flesh when darkness rises."

Harry jumped up from his seat, knocking the little table and its contents to the floor. Trelawney looked up at him in surprise.

           "Harry?" she asked quietly, her eyes gleaming with interest. Harry stared at the fallen Spirit Board and shook his head. She touched his arm and he jumped away from her.

           "I'm fine," Harry blurted out instinctively, running his hand through his hair, bending down to pick up the fallen board and indicator. "My foot fell asleep."

Pavarti, who huffed rather angrily, broke the silence.

"You disrupted the spirits!"

           I return in flesh when darkness rises.

 They were unmistakably the words from his dream Harry thought, easily ignoring her. What he couldn't decide was whether or not the message was a warning or threat.

           "And that," Trelawney whispered, having grown clearly bored with Harry's lack of dramatics, "is why we don't consult spirits to foretell the future, because the messages are simply too vague and often not dependable. I s'pose it's the celestial interference."

Trelawney sighed matter-of-factly, falling against the cushions of her chair. Harry was relieved when he registered the roll of chatter in the class and Trelawney's ignorance. He ultimately decided then that he didn't want to share his dreams, because he had yet to understand them himself. Whatever his parents did, it must have been dangerous. Hagrid had said that they were important in the fight against Voldemort, and his mother in his dream had said that she had wanted to quit after their last mission, because of that danger. It was no secret as well that he had inherited a large amount of sums from his parents, but why had he never known what his parents did for a living?

"Couldn't stand it anymore, eh?" Ron said, grinning as Harry took his seat. "'My foot fell asleep'--nice one, Harry."

Harry forced a smile back and reached for his bag. Class came to an end and he and Ron made their way down the silver ladder back to Earth and reality.Â

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           Tryouts for the Keeper position on the Gryffindor House Quidditch team were in twenty minutes and Angelina had requested that all players show up with broomsticks, ready for a short practice in case the weather didn't prove too hazardous. Ron accompanied Harry to their dormitory to retrieve his Firebolt.

           "Oy, Harry!" called Seamus Finnigan as they reached the bottom of the stairs. He was leaning against a Nimbus Two Thousand.

           "Trying out?" Harry asked as they three made their way to the portrait hole. "I didn't know you played."

           "Always wanted to," Seamus replied, putting the broom over his shoulder. "Figured getting on the team my fifth year's better than never getting on at all." He grinned at Harry and Ron.

           "Wonder who else is trying out," Ron said as they reached the marble staircase.

           "I think Dean is," Seamus said, "reckons he's as good with Quidditch as he is with his

'Football'. What about you, Ron?"

Ron scowled a bit. Harry thought it was hardly his imagination that Ron was growing increasingly irritated with Dean. He also noticed Dean tended to turn up wherever Hermione did.

"Haven't a broom," he muttered solemnly.

           "Harry, Ron, wait up!" Hermione called from behind them. They stopped and waited for her to catch up.

           "Sorry," she said apologetically about not meeting them on the way to Gryffindor Tower. "I was discussing Arithmancy functions with Professor Vector--quite complicated, I fear."

           "Wow," Ron said flatly, "exciting."

           "It was just such an engrossing discussion," she said smiling. She opened the front doors and was met by a nasty gust of cold wind. The smile turned into a frown and she added, "Why did I leave it again?"

The sky had darkened dramatically and was heavy with rain. Thundered rolled ominously a few miles off.

           "Fantastic," Seamus said bluntly. "I get to tryout in this."

           "Break a leg," said Ron, slapping him on the back.

Entering the Quidditch stadium was like Christmas for Harry. Quidditch was something strangely tangible. It was a departure from real life, where the objective was never clouded by complexity. Harry knew the game, understood its parts, and got pats on the back for playing well in a match, not for being the Boy-Who-Lived.

Angelina was conversing with Madam Hooch and the rest of the team was seated on the sidelines. Hermione wished Seamus good luck and she and Ron took seats in the stadium. Dean waved to her and she called out a good luck to him as well before taking a seat. Harry sat down next to Fred and Alicia. A few feet away stood the Keeper hopefuls. There were five total, two were Dean and Seamus. A sixth year by the name of Kaitlin Bixby, a third year named Lara Wong, and a large heavy-set seventh year, Stephen Moore, made up the rest. Angelina turned so that she faced both her team members and the candidates. Her face was stern, and her eyes were aglow with certain excitement.

           "Afternoon everyone," she said, her voice strong and clear over the building wind. "I'm your Captain..." she was interrupted by whoops and cheers from the Weasley twins. She tried unsuccessfully to turn her grin into a look of annoyance.

"Anyway, I welcome back last year's players and wish luck to those trying out today. We will choose our Keeper after several tests. The results coupled with school histories will determine the best candidate. We will let you know who will be awarded the position at the end of the trials and thank you in advance for your time."

Angelina opened up the lid of the trunk containing the Quidditch balls and took out the red one--the Quaffle.

           "First test," she said holding up the scarlet sphere, "as you are called, you will mount your broom and fly twice around the pitch attempting to catch the Quaffle me and several team members will be throwing. You will each have a go five times. Bixby! You're up!"

The wind was getting chilly now and the sixth year climbed onto her broom and pushed off the ground, putting on a burst of speed as she rounded the first corner of the field. With the help of George and Alicia, the red Quaffle was repeatedly tossed through the air as Kaitlin glided by. She dropped the last of the five throws.

           "Finnigan!" Angelina called over the roll of thunder. Harry looked up at the sky, a strange feeling rolling in his stomach much like the roar of nature's fury.

Seamus mounted, flew up into the air and leaned forward on his broom as he took the straightaway. He caught all five throws. The heavy-set seventh year was next, and he barely caught two. Dean was then called and he caught five also. Lara Wong went last, and caught all five easily.

"Next test!" Angelina called as Wong landed. "This time, you'll have to take on me and my fellow chasers! We'll call you!"

They went in the same order. Kaitlin did relatively well, blocking six out of ten shots. Seamus blocked all of them, Stephen Moore, the big guy caught, well... Let's just say a strainer catches more water then he does Quaffles. Dean blocked eight out of ten and so did Lara Wong. Tryouts ended after nearly two hours. Angelina landed and went to converse with Madam Hooch who had the score sheets. As they waited for the results, a burst of lightning lit the skies and Harry shuddered.

           "Darkness is rising," came a female voice from his right. He snapped his head in that direction, finding Fred's grinning face.

           "Something wrong?" Fred asked, the grin falling away at the sight of Harry's shock.

           "Nothing," Harry said quickly, his face going red. Fred definitely didn't provide that voice. Maybe it was his imagination, Harry thought as he continued to watch Madame Hooch and Angelina... He hoped that he wasn't proving Fudge assumption of his insanity correct. But Harry couldn't shake the feeling that continued to churn his insides: something was going to happen.

Angelina nodded her head and approached her team, motioning the Keeper candidates closer so that she could be heard over the now howling winds.

           "First off," she yelled, grinning, "You all were fantastic. It was a hard decision and I am proud that all of you have shown interest to be on the team--".

           "The best damn Quidditch team--" George interrupted enthusiastically before Madam Hooch cleared her throat loudly. "Heh..." he said sheepishly. "I mean best darn Quidditch team."          Â

"Anyway, I've come to my decision," Angelina continued loudly, casting him a reproving glare. "Any questions before I announce it?" A huge hand raised by Stephen Moore (though supposedly a seventh year, Angelina seemed suspicious that he may have been on the special eight year plan) called for her attention. "Yes, Moore?"

"Did I get it?" he asked. Angelina looked a bit pained staring at him, blinking several times speechlessly. Finally, clearing her throat, she forced herself to turn away, continuing on with the task at hand.

"No questions then?" she blurted out hurriedly, "our new Keeper then. Seamus Finnigan."

Polite applause irrupted all around and somewhere in the stands Ron was screaming his head off (obviously happy Dean didn't get the position). Another clap of thunder and a lightening bolt ignited the sky. At that same moment Harry was engulfed in the same light from his dream earlier that day. Blindly, he stumbled into George, as a scream ripped through his head.

           "Harry!" Angelina cried out. George steadied him.

           "Did you..." Harry shook his head, lifting his eyes, finally able to see again. "Did you hear screaming?" He watched as his fellow team members looked questionably at each other. Madam Hooch had forced him to sit back down on the bench. Hermione and Ron were quickly making their way down the steps to the pitch.

           "You okay?" they asked breathlessly in unison, pushing past the circle of his teammates.

"Fine," Harry answered loudly, brushing Madam Hooch's hands from his forehead. There was something...wrong.

All of a sudden, the thunder was over their heads and lightening struck the nearby forest. Harry heard another piercing scream and jumped to his feet. Everyone snapped their head toward the sound; they had finally heard it too. It had come from near the edge of the Forbidden Forest though it was hard to tell due to the echoing that resounded around them eerily. Without a second thought, Harry sprinted towards the scream, grabbing his broom and mounting it in mid run. Someone was in trouble. He knew it had something to do with his dreams.