Dursley Dream

Chapter 8: SKIN OF GOLD

    "Harry, your hand!" gasped Hermione.

    "His entire body!" said Ron.

    Harry's entire body started glittering in the same manner. Harry looked more scared than any of them.

    "Professor Dumbledore," he said with a tremble looking frantically at his hands, "w-what is this?"

    "The Mark of Ancients," said Dumbledore in disbelief. His eyes brightened as if he just realized something. "Harry when that troll exploded did you notice anything?"

    "My hand... for about a second before I killed it..."

    "That's not dark magic you're experiencing, it's old and very powerful magic originating from ancestors of Godric Gryffindor." Harry's heart rushed with excitement, despite the fact that his skin was doing something very odd. It was true all along, he didn't have anything to fear from the Sorting Hat trying to place him in Slytherin...

    "The Sorting Hat... it --"

    "-- it saw Voldemort's leaky powers and wanted to be sure that you didn't want to be in Slytherin." A great weight broke off Harry's stomach. He took a deep breath of relief but when your skin glows, it still bothers you.

    "Ok so what is this?" Harry asked. He still frantically looked at every inch of his hands then rolled up his sleeves to look at his arms which were, of course, glittering too.

    "Come out in the hall with me." They all stepped outside and Dumbledore pointed at a far wall. "Put your hands together and concentrate on that wall."

    Harry copied Dumbledore's motion, closed his eyes and the wall appeared in his head. A surge of energy shot through him and before he could realize what happened, the ground shook violently. Dumbledore, Ron and Hermione fell down due to the earthquake but Harry stood perfectly still. He instinctively ducked as several cinderblocks cleanly missed his head. He opened his eyes. The wall exploded taking out the floor and ceiling with it. The great weight attached itself to his stomach again as he quickly separated his hands and looked back up at Dumbledore. He, surprisingly, was smiling. The glitter was as bright as ever.

    "That, my friends, is the power of the ancients. Now try to fix the wall." Harry closed his eyes again and put his hands together. The ground shook softly and he heard the cinderblocks moving very fast. He opened his eyes. They were rushing along the floor at the broken wall, ceiling and floor, piling themselves up to fix the wall. Broken pieces formed into whole blocks. Blocks from the floor snapped into place. Blocks from the ceiling shot upwards and wrenched themselves in. Before their very eyes, the hallway was back to normal. Harry, however, was stunned along with Hermione and Ron.

    Professor McGonagall must have seen the wall repair itself because she came running at them. She looked at Harry with eagle eyes then turned to Professor Dumbledore.

    "He -- he has it?" she said, goggling at Harry.

    "Yes," affirmed Dumbledore. "I would not have believed it unless I saw it for myself. Look, his skin is glittering just like they say."

    "All this time you were convinced it was dark magic, I -- I don't understand?" asked Professor McGonagall, clearly just as confused as Harry.

    "No writings ever explain how it starts," Dumbledore said matter-of-factly, "but it could not come at a better time."

    "I remember reading something about this," started Hermione. "If the person with it feels threatened or angry it starts to show up." She looked at Harry. "Which explains the strange magic you were able to use." She looked back at Dumbledore and McGonagall. "Not until the bearer becomes more confident in it does it come out in full force." She looked at Harry again and said, "That's why your skin is glowing. It strengthens all magic and also lets you use stronger magic much more easily. That's why you blew the troll up, that's why your levitation magic was a lot stronger than normal, that's why you could even attempt the death curse..."

    Dumbledore stood stunned at Hermione's research. Professor McGonagall was very pleased.

    "If school was in session, that would get Gryffindor sixty points alone," she said with a smile. Hermione's cheeks turned velvet, looking very embarassed.

    "Your foresight is probably back, you must have been calm the day it didn't work," Hermione added.

    "Good, now let's go before it runs out," said Harry as he started running. His legs carried him faster than he thought they could. Ron and Hermione couldn't keep up.

    "Slow down, Harry!" they called to him. He stopped and, feeling he might as well use it while he has it, with a wave of his hand, they were floating behind him.

    "I'm not Disapparating there just in case we appear in the middle of something I'd rather not see," he said. The two of them nodded, it was best if they walked on their own.

    Harry ran so fast his cloak floated almost perfectly horizontal. He was nearly as fast by foot as he was in the air with his Firebolt, a world-standard broom Sirius bought him in his third year. They arrived seconds later next to Hagrid's hut. Harry let Hermione and Ron onto the ground.

    "Wonder if this has anything to do with the stupid scar on my forehead," said a frustrated Harry.

    "I don't think so," replied Hermione. "It's passed down by parents. It may have something to do with why you survived."

    "How can it, I didn't know what Voldemort was doing. All my memories of that night are just him coming up to me, some green light and that's all I remember."

    Harry put his head down not noticing the glittering growing brighter. His stomach started to feel like someone grabbed hold of it and squeezed. Something was going to go wrong because tragedy never failed to fall down on him. No one dared speak until they arrived at the familiar red scene. Harry was again reminded of that fateful day. The screams of his parents were loud as ever.

    Every moving bush, every rustling tree... they were all Voldemort waiting to jump out and kill him. And the sunlight couldn't penetrate those trees, it was just as dark as usual. Harry could no longer bare the red scene. He clasped his hands together and closed his eyes. Without fully knowing what he was doing, heavenly voices filled the air and he heard Hermione and Ron gasping. Harry opened his eyes to see a brilliant light shining directly on top of him as he looked up.

    The blood from the troll slowly faded off of everything as the light and voices faded with it. He could hardly believe he had such strong magic. It was a full minute before any of them spoke.

    "Well here we are. Now we just wait for something to try and kill us again," Harry said depressingly. The familiar voice didn't hesitate.

    "Back for a third time, are we? They always say third time's a charm... or was it a curse?" it said howling with laughter. Harry kept his hands together waiting for something.

    "Where are they?" he demanded cooly.

    "Aww, Harry Potter is starting to see his full potential, I see? How about a test?"

    Ron and Hermione stepped shoulder to shoulder with Harry and he could feel them trembling. A white dementor came out from behind a tree directly in front of them. It shot towards Hermione but Harry closed his eyes. He knew the dementor had been shot off course and he sent flying into the air. He opened his eyes, grinned and looked up. The dementor became transparent and disappeared into thin air, a little bit of blood dripping to the ground where it was floating.

    "Excellent!" said the voice. "And you can control it too, magnificient! Let's see how good you are at it!"

    Grim looks shot across their faces. Hundreds of dementors appeared out of nowhere once more and were advancing on them.

    "I can't look!" said Ron with a faint voice.

    Harry's eyes closed as if instinctual. The familiar heavenly voices filled the air.

    "Ron! Look!" said Hermione poking Ron. The dementors stopped dead in their tracks and one by one disappeared as if a Patronus shooed them away.

    "WHAT ELSE DO YOU HAVE, HUH!?" bellowed Harry.

    Fear was no longer part of his vocabulary. His mind never worked clearer and his thoughts never came faster. The glitter turned into a glow and glowed it did, almost blindingly. Ron and Hermione could no longer look at it. The heavenly voices faded away with the last dementor.

    "I don't think you should have said that, Harry," said Ron looking all around. Clones of Voldemort stood around them in a circle. All at once, they aimed their wands at the three of them and all their mouths spoke at the same time.

    "Avada Kedavra!"

    The green light burst through the end of all of the wands at once but it was all in slow motion to Harry. His head swung around and a pearly transparent circle arced outwards directly in line with the array of green lights. Upon touching, the green light was thrusted into the opposite direction hitting it's source. All but once clone was left standing.

    "Harry, Harry, Harry... how long must we fight? You're only getting weaker and I'm getting stronger."

    Harry didn't want to believe him, but sure enough, Voldemort was right. The glitter was less bright than before. How could this be? Harry was definitely not feeling less and less threatened but the glow turned to a glitter and continued to fade. His worry grew bigger and bigger. The fist around his stomach became so tight he almost slumped over in pain and fell face down on the soft and inviting dead grass.

    "You're going to die for good this time, Harry, I'll make sure of that."

    Ron and Hermione didn't matter anymore. Without warning, the scar upon Harry's forehead screamed at him as loud as it could. Harry curled up in more pain from it then he ever remembered. The glitter became a white glow and vanished altogether. All Harry wanted was for Voldemort to end it. Pain, excruciating pain, pain that wasn't ending... The pain prevented him from controlling his voice and he couldn't even scream. He could still hear, though, and Voldemort was speaking.

    "Won't be needing you two," he said. Harry heard a bang so loud he could not hear what Voldemort was saying. Ron and Hermione were gone. The scar lightened it's pain slightly but it was still strong as ever. With every sound it throbbed unrelenting. "Still not giving up, are you?" Voldemort bent down over him. "What's the use. You're just going to die and will be forever known as the arrogant boy who thought he could kill his Dark Lord!"

    Voldemort laughed softly and it seemed to control the pain in the scar. It grew ever stronger and Harry's writhing grew with it.

    "Just do it and get it over with," said Harry in so low a voice Voldemort strained to hear.

    "And deprive myself the joy of this moment? Tsk, tsk... thirteen years I've been waiting to get rid of you..." Harry could barely speak. Every word throbbed his head in more pain.

    "I've heard that before," and at that word Voldemort grabbed Harry's head by the hair just high enough so he Voldemort could look him in the eye. Harry refused to make eye contact.

    "This will be the last thing you hear, boy. The cry of someone dying, yourself... dying." He dropped Harry's head and it fell in a small puddle of mud he avoided when he first fell. "I will have as much power as I had thirteen years ago and there's nothing the famous Harry Potter can do since he won't be with us any longer!"

    Voldemort laughed maniacally. The pain in Harry's scar was so great it started to tear at his very being. His hearing started to fade. Voldemort's voice was a mere soft muffled groan and it was pleasing because the sound no longer made his head throb. Something turned him to face upwards. Swirls of green and red filled his vision. The light from above turned gray and he was seeing double. Dark figures started to fill in from the corner of his eye. Something rose over him, sped back down and Harry felt a very sharp pain at his ankles. He felt something liquid flow where the pain was. It happened two more times, this time the pain was felt from his wrists and neck.

    The amount he could see started to shrink rapidly. One of the dark figures pulled on him but he was so numb he didn't know what part of himself. If the pain from his scar lasted any longer he would surely die from just that. Finally, his vision died and his hearing dead to the point where all he could hear were his own thoughts. All he wanted was to be with his parents. He could hear what sounded like a voice saying to him, "Don't give up!" He could feel a thousand fingers all over him and whatever they did to his body was a mystery. All the pain he felt came from his scar and at long last, his dream came true. His eyes were forced open and fixed on Voldemort's outstretched wand pointed at him.

    All of the the pain stopped.

    At some point, someone poked him and he woke up. It was morning and he found himself in the hospital wing.

    "Harry?" Hermione said, standing over him. "Wake up, sleepy head."

    "What?"

    "Dumbledore thought you would be awake by now, are you?"

    "Yeah."

    "Good. Now come on, we're waiting for you in the Great Hall. Get changed and come!"

    She walked out and Harry strained to sit up. His glasses sat on a table next to him as well as a change of the usual Hogwarts robes. He got dressed, walked out the door, through the hallways and to the entrance of the Great Hall. It was packed with people and lots of talking. Did the next term start? Harry opened the doors and all the murmuring stopped. Every head focused on him as he spotted Hermione and Ron, taking a seat next to them.

    "Good morning!" said Ron.

    "Have a good sleep? You were out for three days," said Hermione giggling.

    "Three days? That's nothing," gasped Harry.

    "We found you face down, bleeding heavily. But shhh, I'll explain later, Dumbledore's talking to the first-years," said Ron.

    "We all know there are good wizards... and there are bad wizards." Dumbledore looked around and paused briefly. All eyes were on him. "There are who try... and those... who die." Harry tried to hide himself in his cloak. Sure, he lived, but did Mr. and Mrs. Weasley get out and what about Voldemort? "Some souls refuse to be contained. Trying to contain such souls is like trying to stop life from living... it cannot be done. There is one among us with such a soul." Dumbledore gazed around the room and he stopped at Harry who tried to ignore all the people standing up to do the same. He quickly put his hand inside his cloak when he noticed it starting to glitter. Harry's scar burned for a quick second, something wasn't right. "That one among us is none other than... Harry... Potter." The room exploded in applause. Harry peered over his shoulder to see Draco Malfoy in tears (they certainly weren't tears of joy) and grinned wildly at him.

    Dumbledore continued his speech. "Bravery and a steel set of nerves are the minimum requirements for acts of courage... Mixed with dedication, true friendship and an astounding will to survive... these ingredients show true heroism." Harry took another look across the teachers chair and what he saw surprised him. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were sitting next to Hagrid... staring and crying. The glitter on Harry's hands extended to his arms. Soon he wouldn't be able to hide it. He didn't forget what it was, it was just embarassing. Not every day do you start to sparkle in the sunlight. The scar burned again, this time slightly more painful and for a little longer. He tried not to flinch.

    "Harry you're glittering again," Ron whispered at him.

    It would appear that was the end of the speech and all eyes were fixed on him again. There was no hiding it, the glitter extended to his legs and head. He put his hands out on the table and it glittered as bright as ever looking as if his skin were made of gold. People at the Gryffindor table stared at his hands.

    "Stand up, Harry," said Dumbledore.

    He looked at Harry oddly.

    "That's not Dumbledore," Harry whispered to Ron and Hermione.

    "What? Of course it is," said Hermione back.

    "Come on, don't be afraid," said Dumbledore.

    Harry stared at him with eagle eyes and slowly rose up. Everyone in the room could see him and his glittering skin.

    "That's not Dumbledore," said Harry again to Hermione. The people next to him didn't believe it. Harry, again, contained the pain in his scar without flinching or moving.

    "What?"

    "Yes it is."

    "How do you know?"

    "That's not Albus Dumbledore," said Harry loud enough for anyone in the room to easily hear. "Where is he..." said Harry staring at Dumbledore. At this word the entire room turned attention to Dumbledore.

    "So you've seen through it?" said Dumbledore in a voice not his own. Slowly the picture of the body of Dumbledore folded and split to reveal Voldemort. Harry continued his gaze. "I don't know how, but I'm quite impressed."

    Everyone in the Great Hall took one simultaneous step backwards. Several screams broke the air.

    Harry spoke to Ron and Hermione. "My dream, the foresight. It works on him." Harry's magic grew ever stronger as the Mark of Ancients grew in power.

    "I thought I killed you last time, but it wasn't enough. Your blood feeds me and now I have it too."

    Voldemort closed his eyes and clapsed his hands together. Harry felt his insides turn to ice. Voldemort's skin started to glitter but it wasn't golden -- it was a black sparkle.

    "The only problem is, Harry, is that I know how to control it!" shouted Voldemort. His evil laugh pierced the ears of everyone filling the Great Hall. "The Mudblood lover Dumbledore though many things, one of them being that I could never take this school. How very wrong he was..."

    Everyone got up and tried to open the door but Voldemort locked it. Harry's piercing stare began to have an effect. Without losing eye contact, he put his hands together and began chanting but even he didn't know what he was saying. Voldemort started to walk off Dumbledore's chair but froze in place. A fierce wind picked up blowing plates, cups and anything loose all over. Several bright, long strands of white light started to whip around from the middle of Harry. He wasn't afraid, he was angry.

    Voldemort fell to the ground. No one knew who to stare at, Voldemort or Harry.

    "Kick his butt, Harry!" someone screamed. Voldemort couldn't stand up or move at all.

    "Where is Albus Dumbledore," Harry repeated coldly.

    "If you kill me... you'll never find out!" He was right, Harry failed to catch foresight on Dumbledore. How could Voldemort trick him if Harry couldn't even do it?

    "TELL ME!" Harry bellowed. He whispered very quietly to himself, "Crucio," with an outstretched finger. Voldemort could move again but they were squirms of pain. "WHERE... IS... DUMBLEDORE!" yelled Harry again with his finger still stretched out. Harry liked this.

    "Make him suffer, Harry!" someone yelled out. He withdrew his finger and asked once more, "Where is Dumbledore?" It looked like Voldemort was still feeling the Cruciatus Curse but he slowly got to his feet.

    "Hogsmeade... you'll be lucky to find him alive..."

    "Let's just make sure you don't do that again." Harry closed his eyes and put his hands together. A great ripping sound came from Voldemort's direction and a quick cry of pain. Hermione gasped. Something warm and wet shot at Harry very forcefully directly at his heart splashing all over.

    "Ugh! Not again..." said Hermione. When it stopped, Harry opened his eyes.

    "Ugh! Not again..." he said.

    "I just said that." Harry looked at Voldemort. A big gash was closing itself near his heart. Harry had used a spell to remove his blood from Voldemort. "I think you're supposed to do it to yourself, too, so it has a place to enter." She looked at herself. Her, Ron, Harry and a few others were dripping. "You idiot, now look at us." They were covered, head to toe, in blood yet again. Voldemort fell limp, but still breathing.

    Hermione gave Harry an uncomfortable glare for a quick second. "Look on the bright side. Now you have a little bit of me everywhere you go," said Harry. Hermione sighed. They both looked at Voldemort and the black glitter shot off him, vanishing into the air.

    "Dumbledore!" said Ron, Hermione and Harry in harmony. Instantly, Harry Disapparated them to Dumbledore and back into the Great Hall. Everyone crowded around the limp, motionless body. They stood agasp at what could only be described as a dead body.

    Voldemort disappeared.

    "Oh no, where'd he go?" someone said.

    "I sent him away but I don't know where. Trust me, it's far," Harry called back. Madam Pomfrey came dashing over.

    "Oh my goodness," she said with one long stare at Dumbledore. "Quickly, come!"

    Harry floated Dumbledore's body behind him. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Madam Pomfrey rushed to the hospital wing. They had no time to think, Dumbledore could very well be dead. Harry set Dumbledore on a bed.

    "I don't know what's happened to him but it would appear he'll be alright," said Madam Pomfrey. "Look, the Mark of Ancients is seeping through him." Harry stood next to him with a hand on Dumbledore. The glitter was slowly covering every inch of his body. The pale skin began to liven and he started to breathe. His eyes opened and the glitter crawled back onto Harry. Dumbledore sat up but before he could say a word, Harry interrupted him.

    "I've had enough excitement for one day. I need something to eat," he said, looking rather exhausted. He walked out and back to the Great Hall. Ron and Hermione rushed after him, Harry's skin still glittering.

    They arrived back at the Great Hall and the doors flew open by themselves for Harry to just walk past. He sat back down. Dumbledore, the real Dumbledore (Harry was dead sure of it), sat down in his chair. The glitter flew off from Harry's skin and dissolved into the air. He felt a sharp pain in his scar. Something forced him out of his chair, up, up into the air slamming him against the wall behind him, in front then behind again. The spots where he hit left large cracks in the wall and the force shattered windows. Before Dumbledore could speak, before he opened his mouth, Harry was face down on the floor crumpled up, sweating, hyperventilating... out cold.