Harry Potter and the Daemon Sidhe

Chapter 2

Severus Snape sat in his office at Hogwarts and stared sourly at the small flask in front of him. He had been relieved by Mad-Eye Moody shortly after Potter returned to his home. He had come straight back to Hogwarts after that. The rest of his time watching over Potter had been fairly quiet; the boy had not spoken to him again after his request for Dreamless Sleep nor had the boy gone anywhere else. He had remained in the park until shortly before 6 pm when he had gone straight home.

Snape had spent the day considering the boy. Mostly he was considering whether or not to inform Albus of the boy's request. While technically it wasn't required as a qualified Potions Master had the right to prescribe a potion for someone without reference to a Healer; if this was a constant problem though, the use of potions could simply mask whatever the underlying problem was without actually doing any good. He scowled then made a decision. He would not inform Albus at this point. His 'punishment detail' was supposed to last for the entire summer; he would have ample opportunity to examine the boy. He would keep his eye on Potter and if the poor sleep and nightmares continued he would insist that Albus got the boy some help.

He carefully placed the flask in the specially designed traveling bag and picked up the letter he had written detailing the strict instructions for the usage of the potion. He hesitated for a moment then picked up a small leather-bound book that was lying on his desk. After he had returned to Hogwarts, he had remembered where he had heard the name Devante. It was in this small volume on various deities and their servants. He considered the book for a moment then shrugged. The boy had asked and obviously it was due to the fact that for once he was not wasting his summer. He rather thought that encouraging a student to study, even it was Potter, was something that he was supposed to do. He tucked the letter into the front cover of the book and headed for the owlery.

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Harry sat at his desk in his room and stared out into the night. Hedwig had been waiting for him when he had gotten back from the park. The Headmaster's note had been fairly short, just thanking him for the information. Harry wasn't sure whether to be irritated or pleased with the note. He wanted to know more about what was going on but he also understood that it was possible for owls to be intercepted. What had happened to Hedwig during the last school year had shown the wisdom of that precaution. He sighed as he realized that once again he was going to be kept in the dark. Ron and Hermione had already written to him but their letters had been full of everything but what was going on. He had dutifully written back to them, even though he didn't really have anything to tell them. He had also been careful to write to the Order every three days; he didn't really want to disturb the peace by forgetting that.

He sighed and rubbed his eyes with one hand. He was tired but he was a bit apprehensive about going to sleep. He didn't want the nightmares but he had no guarantees that Devante was going to be back either. He stared over at his bed for a moment then finally admitted defeat. He was tired and needed the rest. He got up and lay down on the bed, dragging the sheets and blankets over him. He lay there staring at the ceiling until sleep finally overtook him.

He was extremely relieved when he appeared in the salle again and saw Devante leaning against one wall, waiting for him.

"Hello, Harry," Devante said cheerfully, a smile on his craggy face.

"Hi, Devante," Harry said with relief. "I wasn't sure that last night was real or not."

Devante paused for moment. "Well, of course, that depends on your definition of real."

Harry sighed. "Well, I thought it was real. I was really sore when I woke up, like I'd been whacking a large wooden pole with a sword and then gone for a run. So what is real if not that?"

Devante chuckled. "Yes, well, I suppose you have a point. Okay, I guess an explanation is in order. This is what is called Dreamtime. It's a little different than an ordinary dream." Devante pushed himself off the wall and started pacing. "In an ordinary dream, you don't really have much control. You just get presented with whatever your subconscious decides is the entertainment for the night. Which is why people end up having so many problems with nightmares, they can't control them and they can't stop them. Dreamtime however is different. It's real in a fairly unique way. It can be controlled for a start."

Harry frowned. "Last night you said this was my dream but I didn't know anything about Dreamtime. How could I get myself there?"

"Well, you didn't," Devante replied. "Remember I said that I hijacked your dream. Well, that was pretty much correct. I did hijack it; I dragged you from your dream into Dreamtime."

"So could I get here on my own?" Harry asked, intrigued.

"Yes, you could but not at the moment," Devante said. "It takes a great deal of training to be able to do this on your own."

"Oh, okay," Harry said, a little disappointed. "So, what we do here is real?"

"Yes, to a certain extent," Devante replied. "It's real in that what we do here will affect your body, as you've already found out. But your body won't disappear from your bed or anything like that."

"Why is that?" Harry asked, a little confused.

Devante shrugged. "It's just the nature of Dreamtime. It's more real than a dream but less real than being awake."

Harry frowned and shook his head. "You know I was thinking to myself yesterday that having vaguely obscure conversations was better than what I had been dreaming. I think I still believe that."

Devante laughed. Harry smiled to hear it; it was a loud, merry cheerful laugh.

"I know the conversations have been a little strange," Devante said. "They'll get stranger, of course."

Harry snorted. "Yeah, I've got no doubts about that. My life is just one weird event after another."

Devante laughed again at the wry tone of Harry's voice then walked over and flung an arm around the young man's shoulders. "Well, Harry," Devante said as he guided him over to the racks of weapons, "there is an ancient Chinese curse that says 'May you live in interesting times'."

Harry smiled wryly. "Then I think I've been cursed."

"Been running around offending little old Chinese men have you?" Devante teased then gestured to the racks. "Pick a weapon."

Harry snorted with amusement and went for the sword he had used last time. "I don't know any little old Chinese men."

"Maybe it was your parents then?" Devante said, jovially.

Harry flinched and his face became shuttered. He swallowed and tried to rally a little; Devante couldn't know after all. "I...I wouldn't know," he said weakly. "I...They died when I was just a baby."

Devante's face filled with compassion and a little guilt. He hadn't intended to hit a raw nerve; he was just trying to get the young man to laugh a little. "I'm sorry, Harry," he said sincerely. "I probably should have told you I suffer from foot in mouth disease." He paused for a beat as Harry looked at him with confusion. "I open my mouth and put my foot right on in there!"

Harry blinked and then laughed as he realized what Devante meant. "That's okay," he said. "You didn't know."

Devante was silent for a moment then gestured to the sword in Harry's hand to activate the spell used to blunt and protect the edge. He then waved his hand towards the wall of mirrors and the tall wooden pillar appeared once more. Harry didn't say a word, just walked over and started the exercise he had done the previous night. Devante watched him with sadness in his eyes but let him continue the exercise. It was clear the young man had more than one demon plaguing him.

Harry didn't last much longer in this exercise than he had the previous night and he was sweating and exhausted by the time Devante called a halt. This time he remembered not drop the sword though it hung precariously from his tired fingers until he summoned the strength to walk over and return it to the weapons rack. He then turned to face the craggy-faced man.

"Go for a run," Devante said kindly and Harry nodded and obeyed.

Again Devante called Harry to a walk when his running steps became ragged and he once again came over and walked beside him.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Devante said quietly. "I didn't mean to bring up bad memories."

Harry looked up in surprise and flushed a little at the kind and understanding look on the older man's face.

"N...no, it's alright," he stammered. "As I said, you didn't know."

"Thank you, Harry," Devante said and they lapsed back into silence.

Harry's thoughts were tumbling over and over in his head. He felt that he should explain but years of having no one to talk to meant that he wasn't quite sure how to do that.

"They died," he blurted out and Devante eyed him with surprise.

"Who? Your parents?" he asked.

"Yes," Harry said. "They were killed by a Dark wizard called Voldemort and he killed them because he wanted to get to me. It was really me he wanted to kill but they wouldn't stand aside. They wouldn't stop protecting me."

Harry was horrified to find himself crying by the end of this and he quickly turned away from Devante, not wanting the man to see his weakness. He was surprised when Devante placed his hand gently on his shoulder.

"Come on, Harry," he said softly and led the crying, confused boy through the door he had noticed the night before. Through the door was a small room furnished with a couple of comfortable chairs and a couch, a table, a cupboard and a fireplace. Devante led Harry over to the couch and gestured for him to sit; the older man then sat down next to him.

"It's alright, Harry," he said calmly. "You don't have to hide your tears from me. I won't think any less of you. They were your parents and you have a right to mourn them. I too cried when my parents died and I was a grown man near thirty. Let it out."

The understanding tone as much as the words themselves were the undoing of Harry and he leaned into Devante, tucked his face into the man's shoulder and cried. He felt Devante bring his arm up and hug his shoulders and he felt a hand smoothing his hair.

Harry wasn't sure how long he wept but when his tears finally stopped and he pulled back from Devante, he found the man staring silently into the fire.

"Devante?" Harry said quietly.

The man jumped a little and his arm tightened around Harry's shoulders. He looked down at young man beside him and smiled.

"Feeling better?"

"Sort of," Harry said with a small half-smile.

"Your parents were very brave and they obviously loved you very much," Devante said quietly. "I know you wish they had lived, that they hadn't sacrificed themselves for you but do you really think they felt that way. In their eyes, they probably wouldn't have been able to live with themselves if they had just stepped aside and allowed this Voldemort to kill you. You were their son and they loved you. They quite clearly were prepared to give up everything for you. Wouldn't you do the same for your son?"

Harry blinked at this question then slowly nodded. "Yes...yes, I would."

"So you can understand how they felt then?"

Harry thought for a moment and tried to imagine himself in his father's place, knowing there was a homicidal madman out after his son. He closed his eyes and swallowed. "I...I would have done exactly the same thing," Harry whispered. "I would have done anything to protect him, even die for him."

Devante nodded solemnly. "Mourn your parents, Harry, and honour their memory. That's what they would want."

Harry nodded and a few more tears trickled down his cheeks. For the first time in his life, he felt at peace with what had happened to his parents. Oh, he still wanted Wormtail brought to justice for what he did and he still wanted Voldemort dead but the terrible ache he had often felt when thinking about them was gone.

Just then Devante gave a small jerk. "Harry, you'd better go. Its morning and time for you to get up."

Harry nodded and stood. "Will you be back tonight?" he asked.

Devante smiled. "Yes, tonight and every night you want me to be here."

Harry smiled back. "Good." He then thought about waking and opened his eyes to see the ceiling once more. He sat up and rolled his eyes when his muscles complained. He felt something wet on his face and brought a hand up to brush his cheeks. They were damp with tears and when he felt his pillow, it too was damp. He drew in a shuddery breath and stood, walking out of his room to have a shower.

When he came back to his room and dressed his felt much better; the hot shower had taken care of both the aches in his muscles and the remains of the tears he had shed in Dreamtime. He was just about to go downstairs when he saw an owl approaching his window. He waited while the bird flew in and quickly removed the small package that had been tied its legs. Once he had done this the owl flapped its wings a couple of times and flew back out of the window. Harry looked down at the small package in his hands and decided it could wait until after breakfast.

He clattered down the stairs and nodded politely to his Aunt's offer of breakfast. He thanked her politely when she placed the plate in front of him and quickly ate the toast, eggs and bacon. He then took his plate to the sink and prepared to wash the dishes. Aunt Petunia brought the pans and Dudley's plate over to him and gave him a small, tight smile before she left the room. Harry started washing the dishes. He nearly dropped one though when his cousin spoke.

"You were going to do magic yesterday. They'll expel you for that."

Harry rolled his eyes. "No, they won't," he said calmly. "I got a letter on the first day of the holidays telling me I could do all the magic I wanted."

Dudley considered that for a moment. "Then why are you doing the dishes like that then?" he sneered. "Why don't you use magic?"

"Because they gave me the exemption because of what happened last summer, Dudley, not so I could use it for frivolous things."

Dudley went very pale and his hands started to shake. "Th...th...those dementy-things?"

"Dementors, Dudley," Harry said patiently. "They're called Dementors and yes, that was partly the reason."

Dudley shook for a minute or two longer as Harry began drying the dishes then the bigger boy's eyes narrowed. "So you couldn't really have used magic yesterday then?" he said triumphantly.

"Yes, I could have," Harry said firmly. "I somehow think that protecting myself from being beaten up by your idiot friends would be perfectly alright."

"Oh," Dudley said. Harry finished drying the dishes and quickly put them away. He then escaped up the stairs and into his bedroom.

He picked up the small package that had arrived earlier and opened it. Inside were a small bag and a book. He put the book aside for the moment and opened the bag. Inside was a small flask and he realized that this must be from Snape. It was the Dreamless Sleep potion he had asked for. Harry stared at the flask with surprise. He honestly hadn't expected the man to send it to him; at least not without telling Dumbledore and since there wasn't a note from the Headmaster he had to assume he didn't know. As he stared at the flask he realized that he probably didn't really need it anymore, particularly if he continued to move into Dreamtime to work with Devante.

He put the flask down on his desk and looked at the book. It was a small book with the gold-embossed title on the cover. It said: Avatars and the Deities: An Study of the Heavens. Harry stared at it with some surprise; why was Snape sending him a book about gods. He shook his head and opened the book. There was a letter lying inside the cover. Harry picked up the letter and put the book down. He unfolded the letter and read.

Potter,

Here is the Dreamless Sleep that you asked for. Take one sip just before you go to bed. DO NOT take any more than that and DO NOT use it for more than three nights in a row. This potion is highly addictive. If you damage yourself in any way or become addicted to it, I will take no responsibility.

The book mentions the name Devante. Do not ruin it as I would like it back when school resumes.

S.

Harry snorted and rolled his eyes. He threw the letter onto the desk and picked up the book, noticing for the first time that a page had been marked. He opened up the book to where the bookmark was and began to read.

The Daemon Sidhe.

The Daemon Sidhe (pronounced DAY-mon Shee) are a group of six beings whose origins date back to the time of Merlin. It is said that when Merlin was caught in a situation where he could see no solution that did not involve the destruction of all mankind, he sought aid from the gods. The legends say that he sought the aid of all of the gods and that the Daemon Sidhe were their answer. Certainly it is known that the six men and women who came to Merlin's aid were powerful and wise. When the crisis was over the Daemon Sidhe left, much to Merlin's chagrin, for he had become fond of them. Their last words to Merlin as they left were recorded by the great wizard in one of his journals: 'We are not leaving forever, my friend, though you will not see us again in your lifetime. We shall return though. When Darkness rises and threatens the land; when war is imminent and all looks lost, we shall return. We shall choose a side and find our leader, our King.'

Little more is known of the Daemon Sidhe. They have certainly not appeared again, at least not openly. What did the last words of the Daemon Sidhe mean then? What is this Darkness that will call them back? And who will they choose as their King?

The Daemon Sidhe: Devante, a warrior-wizard of great strength and power; Gwydion, a wizard of extraordinary power and knowledge; Kolos, a scholar of great repute, in some areas it is said that if Kolos does not know the answer, no one does; Asa, a powerful and gentle Healer; Awena, a strong and accurate Seer and Malini, a Herbalist and Earth-Witch.

Harry stared down at the passage in the book. Was the Devante in his dreams the same as the one in the book? He shivered as he read the Daemon Sidhe's last words. Devante had said they were looking for him; surely he couldn't actually think that he, Harry, was this King? Dumbledore was the leader of the Light side in the war against Voldemort, not him. Harry shook his head and put the book down on his desk. No, he wasn't going to think about this. He could ask Devante tonight. He stood suddenly, grabbed his wand and swiftly left the room. He clattered down the stairs and out of the front door. He strode down the front path and out of the gate and proceeded to walk around the neighbourhood, trying desperately not to think about Devante, Sirius or the Ministry.

By the time he got home shortly before six that evening, he was tired and slightly sweaty from his walking. He ran upstairs and had quick wash before returning to the kitchen and silently eating dinner with his relatives. After the meal, he just as silently got up and washed the dishes before returning to his room. He dithered for a moment in the middle of the room then, making up his mind, he walked over to the desk and sat down, pulling some of his summer homework towards him. He threw himself into his Charms essay.

Some hours later, he lifted his head from the finished essay and rubbed his eyes. He looked over at his clock and was surprised to see that it was nearly 11pm. He put his quill down and stood and stretched. He got changed into his pyjamas and stared at his bed for a moment. He lay down and pulled the sheet over him and stared up at the ceiling until sleep claimed him.

He appeared once again in the brightly lit salle where Devante was again leaning against one wall. Devante eyed the young man as he walked over and realised that something was different. Harry seemed tense and upset. Devante raised an eyebrow.

"What's wrong?"

Harry hesitated. "Are...are you one of the Daemon Sidhe?" he blurted out.

Devante jerked in surprise and stared at Harry in shock. "I...Yes! How did you know?"

Harry gaped at the older man for a moment. "Y...you are?"

"Yes," Devante said simply.

"Oh," Harry replied.

"How did you know?" Devante asked quietly.

"I...I asked one of my teachers if he knew the name Devante," Harry replied, then he blushed. "I...had to be sure that you weren't something sent by Voldemort to trick me again."

Devante blinked. "Voldemort?" he asked with a frown. "Who is Voldemort and why would he try and trick you?"

Harry shook his head. "That's kind of a long story. If you're one of the Daemon Sidhe, does this mean that you're back?"

"Yes, we are," Devante said firmly. "Darkness looms across the land and war is imminent. It has awoken us from our sleep and here we are."

"The book I read said that when you returned you were going to seek out your...king," Harry said carefully. "You can't possibly mean me?"

Devante blinked. "Yes, we do. You are the one we will follow. You are our King."

"But...but I'm not the leader of our side in the war against Voldemort!" Harry exclaimed. "Dumbledore is! He should be the one you're looking for."

"We do not know who this Dumbledore is," Devante said dismissively. "You are the one who will be our leader, our King."

Harry stood looking stunned for a moment. "Why me?" he asked softly.

"I couldn't give you a definitive answer," Devante said with a smile. "You just are. You are marked as such or your aura is at least. You are the one, Harry. We have not made a mistake. You are a powerful and skilled wizard though for some reason you refuse to believe this."

"Why me though?" Harry asked again.

"Is there anyone else you would trust to do what you have to do?" Devante asked simply.

Harry looked surprised at that simple question and he thought for a moment. Who else could take on his burden? His first thought was Dumbledore but he quickly realised that Dumbledore was no longer a young man. While his magic was still strong, his physical health would probably stop him from defeating Voldemort himself. Add that to the fact that Dumbledore had gotten too used to gathering information instead of acting and well, no, Harry couldn't give the task to Dumbledore. And he couldn't think of anyone else whom he could trust to do the job and not give up. He didn't particularly like what he had to do and he didn't really want to do it but he would. No matter what, he would see that Voldemort was dead or die trying. For his parents and Sirius if nothing else.

He looked up at Devante who was waiting patiently. "No one," he said quietly. "I'd never really thought about it that way."

Devante smiled sympathetically. "Merlin felt much the same way. You don't have to do this alone, you know. You will have the Daemon Sidhe standing beside you...and others if you wish."

"Others?" Harry asked.

"Yes, your court. A King must have a court."

"A c...court?" Harry stammered. "Really? Who'll be in the court?"

"Well, that's something you'll have to work on later," Devante said. "You need to come into your power first, then you'll know who is meant to be part of your court and what their role will be." He paused and grinned at Harry. "Do you want to meet the rest of the Daemon Sidhe?"

Harry swallowed. "Um, well, okay."

Devante grinned again and closed his eyes. After a couple of seconds he opened them again and five people blinked into existence behind him. There were two men and three women and they were all smiling at him.

Harry swallowed nervously. "Er, hi."

"Hello, Harry," said a plump, motherly woman who had a strong resemblance in her manner to Mrs Weasley. "My name is Asa."

"You're a Healer," Harry said, remembering what was in Snape's book.

Asa beamed at him. "Yes! I see you've done some research!"

Harry nodded and one of the other women stepped forwards. She was a tall, thin woman with long black hair and intensely blue eyes. She looked very striking and had a very aristocratic bearing.

"I am Awena and if you know about Asa then I'm sure you know that I am a Seer," she said.

Harry nodded and the third woman stepped forward. She was a small woman with brown hair, hazel eyes and a friendly face.

"I'm Malini," she said softly, "and as you probably know I am a Herbalist and Gardener."

Harry smiled at her as the taller of the two other men stepped forward. He was a stern-looking man with blond hair and green eyes.

"I am Kolos," he said sternly. "Scholar."

Harry nodded to him and the final member of the Daemon Sidhe stepped up. He was what could only be described as a very medium man. He was of medium height and medium weight and build. He had brown hair and brown eyes and what Harry could only describe as a face-shaped face. He was eminently forgettable; one of those men who if you were asked to describe him, you would be unable to remember what he looked like.

"Hello, Harry," he said cheerfully. "I am Gwydion, your fellow wizard."

Harry grinned at him. "Hello, sir."

"Goodness, don't call me sir," Gwydion said wryly. "You make me feel terribly old when you do that."

The six and Harry chuckled and Devante walked up to Harry. "I am a warrior-wizard, which I'm sure you already know."

Harry nodded. "So, what happens now?"

"I think we should awaken his power," Kolos said firmly before anyone else could answer. "It will take some time for him to get used to it and for him to be trained appropriately. The sooner this starts the better so far as I can see. It is clear from what little he has said about the situation, this enemy, this darkness is already extremely active. We are playing catch up here."

The others looked like they were about to object but they all eventually nodded. Devante looked over at Harry. "Well, do want us to do this now?"

"W...what does it involve?" Harry asked hesitantly.

Gwydion stepped around Devante and smiled. "Nothing on your part other than a willingness to have it done. You will feel a bit odd for the next few days though. We will put a partial block on your abilities so that you don't inadvertently hurt anyone with your new powers until you are properly trained. You'll still be able to do magic, your new powers will simply be temporarily restricted to Dreamtime rather than when you are awake."

"Do I have to do this?"

Gwydion cocked his head to one side, his eyes full of friendly concern. "No, you don't, Harry, Though your power will come to fruition eventually. It's inevitable. This way is controlled, if you leave it, it could happen at any time and you could hurt somebody."

"Harry, we cannot lie to you," Asa said gently. "It's just not possible. This is the best way to do this. Your enemy is obviously quite active. In order to be ready to confront him, you must be trained quickly and you need your power to be awakened in order to do that properly."

Harry looked startled at Asa's revelation then nodded. "Okay, let's do it."

Devante and Gwydion walked up to Harry and smiled grimly at him. "Just stand there and don't fight us," Devante said encouragingly. "It won't take too long."

Harry nodded and the two men started chanting in a strange language that sounded something like the Gaelic he had heard Seamus use once. Harry began to feel very odd, almost as if he were filling up and about to burst. He closed his eyes and tried to relax and let Devante and Gwydion do their work. Just as he felt like he was about to scream, something snapped inside him and power literally flowed through him. He felt like he could do anything and then knowledge began to flood through his brain. At first he though it was coming from the Daemon Sidhe but soon he realised that it wasn't. It was the power opening up parts of his brain that had been closed. This was knowledge he had seemingly been born with. Just as he felt overwhelmed it all stopped; the power still flowed within him but it was now quiescent and the flow of knowledge had stopped. He opened his eyes and swayed on his feet for moment. Devante quickly steadied him.

"How are you feeling?' the warrior-wizard asked.

Harry drew in a deep breath. "Strange," he breathed. "Powerful, dizzy."

Devante chuckled and waved his hand. Behind Harry a large, comfy chair appeared and the warrior guided Harry down into it. He waved his hand again and six more chairs appeared and the Daemon Sidhe also sat.

"Just take a few deep breaths," Gwydion advised. "And let everything settle down a bit."

Harry followed Gwydion's instructions and slowly began to feel a little calmer. He frowned in concentration and felt within himself. He gasped a little as he touched his magic. The power behind it was now immense and he became a little apprehensive at the thought of trying to control that much power. As he considered it, knowledge of spells, charms and even the ability to control the power flooded through his mind. After that came the knowledge of how to use a myriad of weapons and even knowledge about leadership and command. Harry blinked and shook his head, pushing all of this back down. He looked up at the Daemon Sidhe with a slightly plaintive expression.

Gwydion chuckled at the expression. "Don't worry, Harry. I've already put in place the spell that will stop you from accessing most of your power in the waking world. And as for the rest, find somewhere quiet and peaceful when you wake and just let everything wash over you and settle in where it should be. You'll be fine."

"It's a pity we cannot yet become corporeal," Kolos grumbled. "There are a number of books that could help you right now."

Harry shook his head to settle his thoughts. "Doesn't matter," he muttered. "I don't have access to a library right now." Then he stopped and blinked. "Er, corporeal?"

"Yes, corporeal," Kolos said stiffly. "We can became corporeal as we did for Merlin but there is not enough residual magic in the place where you are now for us to manage it."

"Probably just as well," Harry said. "I don't think my Aunt and Uncle would understand. You'll probably be able to become corporeal at Hogwarts though. There's a lot of magic there."

"Hogwarts?" Kolos asked with interest. "What is Hogwarts?"

"My school," Harry replied. "Where I learn magic. It was established over a thousand years ago by the four greatest witches and wizards of the time."

"Well, that's a thoroughly good idea," Kolos said firmly causing the others to chuckle.

Malini had been frowning through this. "Why wouldn't your Uncle and Aunt approve?"

Harry froze for a second. "Er, they...don't really like magic that much."

The Daemon Sidhe frowned. "What do you mean, they don't like magic?" Awena asked stiffly. "They are your relatives!"

"Erm, well, they're not magical," Harry said hesitantly.

"And obviously they're jealous," Awena said in a disgusted tone. She shook her head. "Pity you have to stay here."

Asa looked at Harry with a stern expression. "They're not just jealous, are they dear?" she said gently. "What have they done to you?"

Harry stammered for a moment then Asa took pity on him.

"Well, we'll leave it for the moment, dear, you've got an awful lot to deal with right now," she said with a concerned look. "But you are going to tell us, Harry. You can trust us you know. We are here for you. We are not going anywhere and we will not tell anyone your secrets."

Devante looked up for a second then looked over at Harry. "It's morning, Harry. Time to go. We'll be here tonight and you're training can start in earnest."