Consequences of the Mind

Chapter Seven - Christmas on the Coast

Harry blinked and stared dumbly at Dumbledore before he was nudged in the back. "Oh, er... hi, Professor," he managed.

"Come in, come in," Dumbledore said with a wave of his hands. "Have a seat." There was a brief glow from behind them and four chairs appeared.

Harry sat between Ginny and Ron and kept his eyes fixed on the foot of one of the nightstands.

"When did you wake up?" Hermione asked stiffly.

"Not long ago. Perhaps three days," Dumbledore answered.

There was a sudden pop and burst of bright orange flames announcing Fawkes's entrance. He swooped around the room once before settling on Dumbledore's bed, trilling softly. The bright red Phoenix circled on the sheets next to his master and delicately sat in the impression he had made.

"Fawkes was here not ten seconds after I became conscious," Dumbledore explained, reaching a hand to stroke the bird's feathers. "Amazing intuition, this one has."

There was a moment of silence that lengthened until it became awkward. Harry still refused to look up at Dumbledore, guilt riding his conscience because of his Headmaster's state. If he would have known about the effects of the Learning Spell, he'd never have let Dumbledore go through with it.

"Perhaps I could have a moment alone with Harry?" Dumbledore asked the others, interrupting Harry's thoughts.

Ginny, Hermione, and Ron stood immediately and walked towards the door. Ginny lingered until she caught his eye, giving him a wink, her eyes glistening in the light of the lamps on the wall. Then, he was alone with Dumbledore.

"Harry," the older wizard began, "you are no doubt feeling a little guilty about my condition...."

Harry's face heated slightly even as he nodded his confirmation. "Remus told me that the Order hasn't been able to do much without you. If it wasn't for me...."

"Now, Harry," Dumbledore interrupted. "Look at me."

Reluctantly, Harry raised his head.

"You must know that I chose to perform this spell as surely as you did. The only difference is that I knew what the consequences were and I did it anyway."

Harry pulled an unpleasant face. "That doesn't make it any better for the Aurors that were killed when Azkaban fell."

Dumbledore sighed. "Indeed, it does not. But I believe that Voldemort would have attacked the prison, or some other target, regardless of my state. The blame for those deaths lies firmly with Voldemort, Harry. Neither of us can accept that burden because he chose - and continues to choose - the path of darkness. In opposing him, we accept only the chance that we may fail and the inevitable destruction of good and right that would follow."

Unable to find a way to counter Dumbledore's arguments, Harry crossed his arms and sank back into the chair. "I can't help but feel responsible. You know I'm the one. How can I not feel that way, knowing I have to stop him, to -- kill him?"

Fawkes nipped at the sheets just then, pulling them away from Dumbledore just a bit. "That is the very question that has plagued all who fight the darkness. And yet, we cannot let guilt consume us, or we will be unable to deal with the challenges ahead."

Breaking eye contact, Harry let his head fall into his hands.

"There are many who love you, who would give their lives to ensure your success."

Harry's head shot up and he opened his mouth to protest, but Dumbledore's hand stopped him. "And it is not your place to choose whether or when they will make that sacrifice, Harry. As admirable as it is that you care for them enough to want them to live, you need to grant them the freedom to make their own choices as they grant you the freedom to make your own. For years you have resented being treated as a child, now you have the highest of adult responsibilities thrust upon you."

The bitterness of the truths Harry was hearing burned in his throat. He swallowed, but the flavour lingered. He thought about Ron and Hermione - how they'd been through so much together and were still by his side. Ginny's face popped into his head next and with a sudden lurch in his stomach he knew that she would sacrifice herself for him in an instant. He wouldn't be able to live if something happened to her.

"What can I... What can I do?" Harry asked desperately. "How can I stop Voldemort before he kills again?"

Dumbledore blinked slowly and a wisp of sadness crossed his face. "We cannot stop him yet, Harry. You cannot stop him without first learning the depths of your potential. You must be prepared, Harry. The Learning Spell was necessary because it will give us the time we will need to obtain such preparation before Voldemort becomes too strong for either of us to defeat him."

Harry stared at the rough wooden floor and the intricately woven rug by the bed. The rug's pattern showed miniature Phoenixes flying around a stone basin filled with golden water. Fawkes trilled again, sending a jolt of courage through him.

"Harry," said Dumbledore slowly, as Fawkes nipped at his sheets once more. "It may be of little comfort, but I promise to prepare you for your trial the best I can."

They locked gazes for a moment before the older wizard's eyes drooped, and the light in them was concealed by heavy lids and his head fell to one side. It was a long moment before Harry realized that Dumbledore was asleep, his chest slowly moving up and down. Fawkes trilled softly one more time and buried his beak under his wing, leaning into Dumbledore's slumbering body.

Harry took his cue, and stood. As he closed the door softly behind him, he decided that no matter what happened, Voldemort was not going to destroy the happiness his parents, godfather, and countless thousands had fought to keep. If Harry was the only one that could defeat him, then defeat him he would.

*

At the foot of the stairs, Harry informed McGonagall that Dumbledore was asleep and that Fawkes was with him. This seemed to please his professor, who began to search through her robe pocket.

She removed a folded slip of parchment and thrust it at Harry. "This was written by the Headmaster last night. It is for you."

Harry took the paper and unfolded it, reading through the single paragraph once before Ginny approached him. "What is it?"

"He wants me to take a walk on the beach," Harry confessed. Though it seemed odd to his ears, Professor Dumbledore's words were specific. I often find a brisk walk on the shore to be both liberating and invigorating.

"What a splendid idea," McGonagall announced with a slim smile on her face. "Better be off, then." Then turning to Ginny, she said, "I expect you'll want to accompany Mr. Potter?"

"Er."

"Splendid. I'll let your mother know where you are. Be back by dark."

Professor McGonagall then turned on her heel and walked back upstairs, leaving Harry and Ginny at the foot of the stairs with Ron and Hermione looking on the whole scene with a slightly bemused expression.

Harry shoved the parchment into his pocket and walked to where Hermione and Ron were sitting. "What was that all about?" he asked.

"I dunno," Ron replied. "But it looks like you're supposed to take a walk with Ginny on the beach."

"But doesn't it seem odd?" Ginny asked next. She was busy pulling her hair back into a ponytail, a motion Harry found distracting for some reason.

Hermione stood and pulled Ron to his feet. "Whatever the reason is, it'd obviously safe, or Dumbledore and McGonagall wouldn't have insisted on it. We're going, too," she announced.

"But Hermione," Ron whinged, "she didn't say anything about us going."

"No," she conceded, "but she didn't say we couldn't go, either."

Ron seemed to know he wasn't going to win and didn't press the issue. Harry decided that he'd settle the matter, anyway. "Look," he began, "it doesn't matter. Ginny and I will walk ahead and you guys can keep an eye out for us. I'd rather be safe than sorry."

Ginny and Hermione blinked. "Harry?" Ginny asked. "Are you feeling well?"

"What are you on about?" he asked with a huff.

Hermione smiled and chimed in. "It's just that you're normally too willing to leave your friends behind and now you're asking for our help?"

Harry's face heated slightly. "I'm not quite asking, just acquiescing. I can't stay stupid forever, can I?"

Linking her arm through Harry's, Ginny reached up and kissed his cheek. "Definitely not."

*

The mid-afternoon sun was veiled by a thin layer of clouds that dulled the already brown and grey landscape. Gulls circled high overhead and a stiff breeze blew in off the English Channel with vigour. It wasn't long before Ginny was shivering.

Harry put an arm around her, but the benefit must have been minimal. "Dumbledore was right about one thing," he quipped. "A walk on the beach in December is quite invigorating."

His smiled died quickly however, in the face of Ginny's unamused expression. "It's bloody cold out here, Harry."

"Too bad we can't cast a warming charm, eh?"

Ginny snuggled in closer to Harry, making it hard for him to walk properly, so he stopped. The wind was blowing in the wrong direction to hear what Ron and Hermione were talking about, but he was sure the topic was the same.

Harry took Ginny fully into a hug that sheltered her more effectively from the biting wind. Over her wind-whipped hair, he let his eyes trace across the base of the cliffs that dominated this area of the beach. Great clumps of sharp grass dotted the place where rock met sand. There were numerous nests in the crags of the cliffs where the gulls perched on and off again. Near the base of one particularly large cliff that bowed outward towards the sea, sat a pile of rubble that didn't seem to come from any of the cliffs above. Upon further inspection, Harry decided that the granite rocks in the rubble weren't even the same type as the sandstone the cliffs were made from.

"Harry? Why are we out here again?" Ginny's muffled question brought his mind back to her.

"Um," he started, still looking at the pile of rocks. "I'm not exactly sure, but I think I may have found the answer."

He pointed and Ginny followed his finger. "Those rocks? I don't see how Dumbledore wanted us to come out here in the freezing cold to look at a bunch of rocks."

Ignoring her questioning look that clearly implied she'd much rather be inside by the fireplace with a cup of hot chocolate, Harry grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the cliff base. "Come on. Let's have a look, all right? If there's nothing there, we'll go back inside."

Shoving her hands into her armpits and holding her arms tightly across her chest, she gave a violent shiver and followed. "Fine, but you are so going to owe me a foot massage when we get back."

*

The rocks turned out to be boulders, roughly the size of Hagrid's hut. Harry couldn't imagine anything bringing these here besides an army of giants. Leaving Ginny sheltered between two of the huge stones, Harry climbed on some of the smaller rubble and onto one of them.

"What is it?" Ron cried as he and Hermione ran towards them. "What do you see?"

"Nothing," Harry replied with a shrug. "This just looked odd to me, so I thought I'd take a look."

Hermione joined Ginny in the rock crevice, and inspected the boulders more closely. "These are a little off." She didn't seem remotely phased by the cold wind, however, and Ginny was eyeing her suspiciously.

Ron began to climb towards where Harry was still perched, while the latter looked for anything amiss and still keep his balance in the face of the wind. Harry hopped down to a slightly smaller boulder and found that one of them gave an odd sort of shimmer. He withdrew his wand and approached the boulder. When he prodded it with his wand, it shimmered even more violently and disappeared altogether. Behind it, lay a deep, dark cave.

"Hey!" he yelled towards the girls. "I've found something!"

Ron clambered down next to Harry and let out a slow whistle. "Blimey. I wonder if this is what Dumbledore wanted us to find?"

"Dunno," Harry conceded. "There's only one way to find out, isn't there?"

Hermione and Ginny slid down the same rock face Ron had used and were soon at the cave entrance.

"So what are we waiting for?" Hermione asked and promptly lit her wand. "Let's go."

Ron caught Harry's eye and shrugged his shoulders. Harry did the same and followed their friend inside, Ginny trailing behind.

*

The cave was narrow, but ran deep underground. They came across several detection charms that had fizzled out and a large pit that had once been cloaked with a Concealment Spell. For all intents and purposes, it appeared that someone wanted to hide something very badly, but the spells had stopped functioning long before.

"Hermione," Ginny said through gritted teeth. The younger girl was rubbing her arms briskly in the cool, but windless cave.

"Yes?" Hermione responded.

"How is it that I'm shivering like a little Crup after a stiff rain and you look like you're taking a stroll through London in May?"

Carefully, Hermione pointed her wand at Ginny and pronounced a simple warming charm. The heat was heavenly and Ginny shuddered in delight. "Being of age has its prerogatives."

"Thanks," Ginny replied wryly. "I'll try to remember that the next time I'm dying from hypothermia."

Harry snickered next to her and held his lit wand aloft, casting more light in the cave. "Come on, you two. If there's a point to all of this, we'd better find it before it gets dark."

They trudged further down the cave, avoiding a few rats and the bones of a medium-sized animal. A small trickle of water sprung from a rock and ran down the side of the cave floor, adding to the eeriness of the already-dank tunnel. Finally, the cave opened into a room the size of one of the girls' dormitories at Hogwarts. At the opposite end of the room stood a stone table with something round on its surface. Between the tunnel and table, there was a gaping chasm that seemed to absorb the light from their wands, it was so deep.

"Now what?" Ron asked, and then kicked a pebble into the pit. "It's too far to jump, and we don't have a broom handy."

"I don't know," Hermione answered. "Let me think about this for a minute."

She began to pace in front of them when something popped into Ginny's head - like the shadow of a memory - but it just didn't form fully in her mind. Then, it clicked.

I've got it, she said in her mind and was surprised when someone answered.

What is it?

Harry had approached her while she'd been thinking and was holding her hand.

She smiled and turned to face him. Something... different. Follow my lead, Harry.

He nodded and she walked towards the edge of the chasm. Standing there, Ginny noticed small engravings in the stone, worn smooth until they were almost indiscernible. Carefully, she traced her fingers over the nearest rune and shook her head when nothing happened. "Not that one," she said, mostly to herself.

Ron and Hermione had taken notice of her actions and were gathered behind her. "What's she doing?" Ron asked.

"I think she knows how to get across," Harry explained, saving Ginny from having to articulate the vaguest of impressions that even she had a difficult time understanding.

She moved from rune to rune, tracing them with her finger and trying to match the feeling each one gave her with the one she'd had in her 'vision'. The trouble was that the initial impression was fading with every passing second. She needn't have worried, however, for when her fingers touched a rune that resembled a hawk with a snake in its talons, there was a pulse of energy the connected her to the floor. A dull boom was heard in the distance and in the middle of the chasm appeared a narrow stone bridge that joined the two sides of the room. Ginny stood and placed her foot on the bridge, testing it to make sure she wasn't hallucinating, and then walked across the bridge to the other side.

"Brilliant," Ron muttered behind her.

"I think so," Harry agreed from behind Hermione who was trailing Ron. "You don't have a monopoly on brilliant witches, you know."

Ginny felt warm pleasure surge through her and was still glowing when they reached the other side.

Hermione took the lead again and approached the stone table. There were more runes on the wall behind the table and on the round object on its top. It was a basin, much like a Pensieve, except much larger and deeper.

"What do you reckon it is?" Harry asked, running his hand across the lip of the bowl.

Hermione pursed her lips. "I've heard of something described like this in that book Dumbledore gave me," she explained and then her eyebrows shot skyward. "I wonder if...." She shoved her hand in her pocket and produced a piece of parchment and a self-inking quill.

"That's my Hermione," Ron announced. "Never goes anywhere without a quill and parchment."

"And what would you do without me and my ever-present quill, Ron?" she shot back good-naturedly "You'd fail every subject and be doomed to a life of pranking."

His ears pink, Ron folded his arms and said, "I'll have you know that the twins are making loads of Galleons from their life of pranking."

"Ron, I love you as you are," Hermione soothed. "Now hush and point your wand at the font so I can see properly."

He grumbled, but complied with her request.

As Hermione began to sketch the runes on the basin, Ginny knelt to look at the table itself. Carved into its face was a large fountain with what looked like bolts of lightning extending out from the middle. Above the fountain was a winged creature that looked remarkable like a Griffon.

"Why did you call this a font, Hermione?" asked Harry after a moment.

Hermione shrugged and continued to scratch her quill on the parchment. "If it's what I think it is, it's one of the fonts of power put in place before the wizarding world existed. Fonts are sources of raw magic. No one knows where they came from, but people have built monuments to the ones they've found to mark their place and to draw on the magic."

Ginny sensed she was going to continue and didn't interrupt. Hermione probably knew the story better than anyone.

"The origins of magical beings go back eons. The earliest legends attribute the first person with magical abilities, a witch mind you, to be a common Muggle that fell into one of these fonts. From her sprang forth every witch and wizard in existence."

Harry shook his head. "Hold on," he said with outstretched hands. "So you're saying that the entire wizarding world exists because someone fell into a bit of water?"

Hermione finished her sketches and blew on the paper to dry the ink. "No, Harry. This font was probably used up very recently. There were once hundreds of them spread throughout the world. According to legend there's only one left now. Once a font is used, it loses its power forever and transfers it into the person that takes it."

"How does someone take power from a font?" asked Ron.

"Easy. You can either drink the water, taking a bit at a time, or you can completely immerse yourself into it, taking all the power at once."

Ginny's mind was whirling. "So..." she began, "if someone like...say, Voldemort were to get his hands on the water...."

"He'd be unstoppable," Hermione finished for her. "But there are all sorts of magic to prevent dark wizards from tapping into the font."

"Like what?" Harry asked.

"Before Merlin, there wasn't much," she explained. "But we know that each font has a guardian. When Morgana became a Dark witch and threatened to destroy the world, Merlin tapped into one of the last three fonts, the one at Stonehenge, to be precise. Part of the bargain he made with the guardian of that font was that he would add protections to the last two fonts before he died - to ensure their safety from future Dark wizards. No one knows what those were, and no one has come across a font, that we know of, to find out just what those protections entail."

"Do you think this is one of the fonts that Merlin agreed to protect?"

Hermione held out her parchment and said, "That's what this is for. The runes describe the location of the other font. The only question is, is the font still active?"

Harry stood tall with a glint in his eye and said, "We need to talk to Dumbledore."

*

They had to wait until after breakfast the next day to see their Headmaster, as he had been asleep until then and Mrs. Weasley wouldn't allow them to pester him.

"He needs his rest," she had explained.

So the four teens ate their food at top speed and clamoured up the stairs to begin posing their questions to Dumbledore while Molly was busy with the breakfast dishes.

"Parselus," Harry called to the portrait on Dumbledore's door. "Is he awake?"

The painting bowed and nodded. "Madame Pomfrey has only just left."

"Great. Can we see him, please?"

Parselus seemed to consider it for a moment. "You must place your hand on the door and it will decide."

Harry balked at the strange request but complied nonetheless. A warm sensation spread into his hand as it made contact with the door. There was a glow and then a click of the lock before he removed his hand and entered.

Dumbledore was in much the same condition as he was the previous day, but he seemed much more alert. There were small stacks of parchment strewn across the bed and Fawkes was relegated to a perch in the corner. He trilled a hello to them as they entered.

"Ah," Dumbledore said brightly. "I had hoped you would visit with me this morning."

As before, he raised his hands and four chairs appeared behind them.

"I take it you found the cave, then?" he asked, looking peculiarly at Ginny.

They nodded, and Harry wondered just how much he knew had happened in the cave.

"Splendid. And the font?"

"It was there," Hermione answered, squirming in her seat with apparent apprehension to ask loads of questions. "But how did you find it? It was used recently, so who took the font's power? Do these runes lead to the other font?"

Dumbledore held up a patient hand and Hermione's questions stopped. "That particular font was used in 1943, two years before Grindelwald's final defeat. It was I that used the power of the font and learned that there was but one left in existence. For now, its location is safely obscure, but I doubt it will remain so forever."

"Voldemort," Harry whispered.

"Indeed, Harry," Dumbledore confirmed. "If Tom were to discover its location and overcome the defences, we would be utterly unable to defeat him."

"But what about the guardian?" Ginny asked next. "Wouldn't the guardian stop Tom from getting to the font?"

"It is very likely that he does not have sufficient power to overcome the guardian; that is true. However, I have learned that underestimating my opponents can be a costly mistake. We must be vigilant in our plans."

"What can we do?" Harry asked, suddenly aware that everything was going to come back to him somehow. "If the guardian can keep the font safe, why even bother with it?"

At this, Dumbledore levelled an unblinking gaze at Harry. "Because to every generation there is one born with the power to drain the font's power and defeat the darkness that threatens it. I was the one chosen to defeat Grindelwald, and you, Harry, are the one chosen to defeat Voldemort."

"You?" Harry asked slowly. There was something about the way he had mentioned being chosen that caused Harry to blink.

"Yes, Harry. You were not the only one born with a prophecy hanging over them."

Suddenly, it all made sense. The way Dumbledore had been protecting him from the knowledge of his destiny, the careful prodding and instruction, and the final confrontation they'd had in his office last year.

"But the guardian," Hermione blurted. "The book says the guardian is to keep everyone out of the font."

With a twitch in his beard, Dumbledore winked at Hermione and spoke. "That was written specifically to keep a rush of people, all thinking that they were the chosen one, from tempting their luck. The unspoken requirements also do not mention that the person allowed to take the font's power must have an active threat against him or her." He turned back to Harry. "We must discover the font's location and take its power before Voldemort does."

The room fell silent as each person quietly contemplated what they had discussed. Then, one by one, they all turned to look at Harry.

"I guess I'm in need of a dip, then?"

*

Christmas came the next day. Ginny was delighted with the figurine Harry had purchased for her and Hermione shrunk it to fit on the younger girl's necklace. Ron had been given an entire set of school clothes from Hermione, who was determined to break from her stereotype of always gifting books. Harry received a set of hand-knitted mittens and matching scarf that sang shrilly whenever anyone said "Harry Potter". Ginny hid giggling behind the sofa for a full five minutes before he realised it was from her. Even the magically moving Golden Snitch on the scarf didn't save her from a solid tickling that day. The best present of all, however, came when Dumbledore appeared in the room from his solitude upstairs.

"It seems I have been cleared by Madame Pomfrey... to get a little fresh air," he had said as he sat next to the fire. Then with a smile, he propped his sock-clad feet on the hearth and announced, "I will be going back to Hogwarts with you."