Mark of Ancients

Chapter 5: AN ANCIENT TRUTH

    Dumbledore walked in momentarily after Hermione left.

    "She didn't look very pleased about her visit," he said as he entered the room. He, too, sat down on the bed next to Harry. He waited for a reply but it wasn't coming, Harry was far too uninterested. "Hermione told me that you were flipping through books looking for something. What was it?" This grabbed Harry's attention very quickly.

    "The ancients... s-something feels wrong about the mark. I don't know what," said Harry, looking at everything in the room but Dumbledore. Something poked Harry in the back of his brain but the hint wasn't strong enough. Dumbledore looked almost surprised at Harry's guesswork.

    "I can assure you the ancients are all they are made out to be. Great wizards on the side of good with an extra touch of happiness," he said with a smile. Harry's eyes finally stopped on Dumbledore, but Dumbledore thought nothing of it. "As usual, we don't know what the scar's pain is all about and most grievously unfortunate, there is no information on the sudden rod that had impaled you..." He patted Harry on the shoulder and headed for the door. "Rest easy with the mark, Harry. You don't have any more duels until Wednesday evening. Get some rest." Harry couldn't rest easy. The mark was what was causing him all this trouble to begin with, but he had no way to prove to anyone what he suspected... which is that the mark is evil.

    Living on Privet Drive, Harry took many things for granted. Many things a wizard should know, he turned total ignorance for. It was only last year Harry found out Hagrid was a half-giant. Harry didn't care ("So what?") but Ron looked scared half to death at the news. Are most wizards brainwashed into thinking the mark is a godsend?

    The next few days continued without anything noteworthy. Professor Snape had started on Paralysis Potions. Malfoy had found it funny when Snape demonstrated his own brew on Harry. The Slytherin's laughing stopped when Harry's mark glowed blindingly and Malfoy found himself on the receiving end of a Confusion Curse Harry had started just before he freed himself. At this point, the Gryffindor students were laughing. Lastly, Harry suspected Dumbledore spoke to Ron and Hermione because they were acting friendly to him again.

    Professor Trelawney decided to get going on speaking to the dead. She reasoned, somehow, that a very accurate way of predicting the future was to talk to dead spirits. No one really paid attention. Whenever she thought she got a spirit, it was usually one of the school ghosts whispering behind a chair or wall. Some people, including Hermione, started to pay slightly more attention after a very tantalizing class. Of course, it was probably attention due to fear.

    Trelawney had asked Snape to make a Potency Potion, so her abilities would be heightened, and asked Harry to hold her hand so she could get her share of the mark's power. All desks were pushed aside and everyone sat on the floor, glass orbs out.

    "Harry, if you will, hold my hand and keep your mark glowing white." She set herself down in front of her crystal ball and gripped Harry's hand. "Feel your Inner Eye, my students."

    "Feel my butt," Ron whispered to Harry.

    Professor Trelawney turned the lights off and all that lit the room were four candles, one in each corner of the room.

    "Feel the spirits through the plane!" she said, eyes closed, waving her hands over her crystal ball (and moving Harry's hand with it). To everyone's amazement, the usual cloud of junk swirled inside the ball turning a mix between gold and black. "Feel them coming!" She continued to move her hands over the crystal ball and the cloud continued to swirl inside it. For several minutes, she was quiet and everyone stared at the ball.

    The candle lights blew out. The cloudy swirl glowed a lazy white. The only lights were the crystal ball and Harry's skin.

    "Yes!" cried Professor Trelawney. "Talk to me! Tell me what is to come!"

    "An ancient walks among you," a voice said coldly.

    And at that, Harry's mark stopped, plunging them into near-total darkness. He looked up at scared eyes through the dim light of the ball - it was clear other students shared his fear. The voice made a shrill cry and faded away.

    To their deep astonishment, Trelawney was very happy with herself. It didn't hit her until she said, "Lumos!" at her wand and looked up at everyone's face. Even Parvati looked terribly frightened. They've seen ghosts, but when a voice tells you an ancient, a five thousand year old wizard, is roaming the halls of Hogwarts...

    Only one name was crossing Harry's mind that afternoon and by the looks of the other Gryffindor fifth years, theirs too -- Voldemort. Hermione, however, was stubborn, and an argument broke out over dinner.

    "You-Know-Who is not an ancient!" she snapped.

    "Yes he is!" said Ron. "The ancients are next to impossible to kill. They are determined, they never gave up and they didn't care what the leaders of nearby lands told them to do!"

    "I don't believe it," said Hermione in a very it's-finished voice.

    "It's exactly all the traits he has!" shrieked Ron through worried breath. "Remember when he got the mark from Harry? He was able to control it instantly with no problems! There were some people saying he already had it but lost it and needed Harry's blood to revive it." Hermione started to look slightly worried too. Seeing this, Ron kept going. "You remember what Professor Binns said in that class you asked about the mark yesterday?"

    "Yeah..." Hermione said in anticipation.

    "He said that ancients have wicked control over the marks. How do you think he's controlling Harry?" Harry glared at Ron. "What?"

    "He's not controlling me."

    "You believe it, don't you? That You-Know-Who is an ancient?" Harry didn't reply, he just made his skin glitter faintly, looking worried.

    "Oh come off it, Ron," said Hermione.

    "If it's not him, then who is it?" That question, Ron noticed, confused Hermione. "There!" he said conclusively. "He is the ancient that walks among us. That's how he's controlling Harry, he's here and that's how Harry got..." - he gulped - "impaled."

    Both of them shot a nervous eye at Harry who's skin was now glowing a chaulky gray. "I told Dumbledore something but he doesn't believe me," spoke Harry at last.

    "Well come on then, what is it?" said Ron.

    "I told him that we have the wrong impression of them," he said with confidence.

    "Harry, I thought I would never have to say this, but... you - are - stupid," said Hermione, as if Harry had just done the stupidest thing in his life.

    "Fine," said Harry flatly, "don't believe me." He stood up. "I'm going to Hagrid to see if he believes me." Harry started to feel like an outcast -- at Hogwarts. It seemed like everyone was brainwashed to believe the ancients are some great set of wizards that everyone loves...

    "We'll go with you," said Hermione, prodding Ron so Harry couldn't see (but he did anyway).

    "Yeah... yeah we'll go with you," Ron said smiling behind gritted teeth aimed at Hermione. Harry looked up at Hagrid's usual seat, but he was gone. It was usual for Hagrid to go back to his hut, so after eating, that's where they went.

    "Hagrid!" barked Ron, knocking on the door. Fang, Hagrid's dog, barked back, but there was no sign of Hagrid through the windows.

    "URGH!" grunted Harry impatiently. "Where is he?"

    "Maybe he finally left. I was hoping he would," said Malfoy sneaking up behind them and smirking. "Believe the ancients aren't good, do you? What is that Muggle-raised mind of yours thinking? You know it's probably a good thing your Mudblood mother died."

    "Malfoy," started Harry, who's skin glowed so bright he could be used as a torch, "get out of here before I hit you with Clades Ultimus."

    This was not a good time for Malfoy to be talking and even if Harry wasn't feeling so much malevolence, this was where he drew the line. Harry lost control of himself. He clasped his hands and closed his eyes chanting. The wind picked up to storm-like speeds and started to blow very hard, hard enough to push Malfoy away from the castle entrance. He tripped over his cloak scrambling to get away. Finally, the castle door slammed closed and Harry stopped. He looked up at Ron and Hermione who were looking at him as if they had just seen him really use Clades Ultimus.

    Harry gave them an innocent look.

    "What? It was just a wind charm," he said smiling innocently. They did believe him. After all, the wind was too powerful for Clades Ultimus. "Oh don't tut at me, you wanted him gone just as much as I did."

    Hermione tutted at him again and his skin returned to normal. The three of them stood there thinking of what to do next. Harry could tell Ron and Hermione were just as worried about Voldemort being the ancient as he was but they didn't share his view of the ancients. The perfect question came to him but his thoughts were interrupted by Hermione.

    "Up for a little midnight reading?" she said suggestively.

    "No," said Ron and Harry together, knowing what she had in mind. Hermione clutched her hands tightly around the back of their cloaks and dragged them inside the castle.

    "She's determined," whispered Ron to Harry.

    "Maybe she's the ancient," said Harry, stifling a giggle.

    "I heard that," she said, and pulled on both of their cloaks almost making them fall. Harry pulled himself away from Hermione and she almost tripped.

    "I can walk by myself, thanks," he said. Ron and Hermione looked at each other. She let go of Ron and they continued walking until they entered the library.

    "Hagrid!" said the three of them.

    "What're you doin' here?"

    "I don't know," said Harry slightly annoyed at Hermione. "Ask her."

    "Harry..." said Hagrid sounding more like a mother than his usual self. "You got ter remember what Dumbledore said about yeh. Yer prone ter mood swings. Calm yerself before yeh go an' do summat you'll regret." Ron and Hermione looked at Harry again. Harry moved his head slowly between the two of them, looking at them funny.

    "He's right," said Hermione.

    "I don't care if he's right, I want someone to believe me when I say there's something we don't know about the ancients." A light went off and he remember his question from earlier. He grinned and said, "If Voldemort is an ancient, what's to say the old ancients weren't evil too?" Ron and Hermione looked a tiny bit shocked.

    "No," said Hermione, refusing it.

    "I believe yeh!" said Hagrid.

    "You what?" said Harry, Ron and Hermione in unison. Hagrid shoved a book in their direction entitled "Ancients: Myth or Misery."

    "It don't say much, but what it's got ter say suggests the ancients, well..."

    "I don't believe it," squealed Hermione. "Thousands of years of stories and tales about them and you two are coming up with stories saying they're bad? Rubbish, total rubbish."

    "Maybe it's a secret someone wanted to cover up?" said Harry suggestively.

    "I have another thing that someone wants covered up." Someone spoke from behind them all. "Potter!" said Snape. Harry turned around.

    "Not you again, I thought we settled our differences!" said Harry.

    "Harry!" gasped Hermione.

    "This is because I scared Malfoy, isn't it?"

    "Scared? He told me you started casting Clades Ultimus before he ran away. I think this suggests a --"

    "IT WAS A --" started Harry --

    "Follow - me," threatened Snape in an icy voice.

    He grabbed Harry by the arm, who looked back at Hagrid, Ron and Hermione with innocent eyes... because he was... well, innocent! Snape blabbed about Harry being arrogant and showing off and instigating trouble and how he liked to make him angry and...

    Harry didn't say a word. Snape could become almost as frightening as Voldemort when he was angry. They walked to Dumbledore's office, who was standing just outside the door tapping his foot.

    "What do you have to say in your defense, Harry?" said Dumbledore looking at him disappointed through his half-moon spectacles.

    "It wasn't --" started Harry, but he was again interrupted by Snape.

    "What should his defense matter, Albus? Clearly the boy is under control and should be dealt with appropriately. We can't have him terrorizing students..." As Snape finished his speech, he looked at Harry and hid a grin from Dumbledore. Harry refused to look back at him, he fixed himself on Dumbledore, becoming quite annoyed at Snape. He was sure Dumbledore would let him speak his mind at some point, though, so he decided it best to wait.

    "But --"

    "Quiet, Potter. Dumbledore? Suggestions?"

    "Give me a minute..." Any time... any time now Dumbledore will ask Harry to say what really happened.

    "Draco came running scared right to my office. Said Harry tried to cast a very powerful Clades Ultimus," said Snape.

    "Professor --" Harry tried to say, but Snape interrupted,

    "Surely this does not require heavy thought?" he said, as if Harry had never spoken his last word.

    "Albus =-"

    "Potter you are to call him Professor Dumbledore," Snape warned him. Any minute now! Any minute Dumbledore would let Harry talk...

    "Harry, if you will, please spend the night in your bedroom. Madam Pomfrey will come up with some Sleeping Potion as soon as I can find her."

    "Albus, what --"

    "Can --"

    "about the --"

    "I --"

    "rumor of --"

    "SAY SOMETHING!" screamed Harry at the top of his lungs.

    Snape and Dumbledore stood frozen. It wasn't what Harry said, it was what happened to his skin. It glowed like a pure, black, smoky-quartz rock getting enormous amounts of sunlight from every direction. One could no longer see the color of flesh, it was just pure black, pure, glowing black. He was fuming. Snape had purposely interrupted his every word and Dumbledore had not thought to let him speak. Why?

    "FINE!" Harry screamed. "I'M GOING TO MY ROOM AND FEEL FREE TO KNOCK ME OUT!" He sprinted down the hallway, ignored the eyes staring with fright at his back with a heavy weight in his chest after realizing what he did. He exploded in front of Albus Dumbledore, the one person he respected the most among all others.

    "Password?" asked the Fat Lady, as he ran up to her.

    "Lily and James," said Harry, but too softly for the Fat Lady to hear. It was Malfoy's suggestion to the Fat Lady to change the Gryffindor password to this, the name of Harry's parents. She was groggy one morning and remembered she needed to change it... but unfortunately wasn't thinking.

    "Sorry, dear. Didn't hear."

    "CAN YOU CHANGE THE DAMN PASSWORD FROM MY DEAD PARENTS' NAMES TO SOMETHING A LITTLE MORE PLEASANT!" he screamed... and she opened.

    "Arithmancy," she said softly. "New password," and she dashed out of her portrait and down the hall across the others (presumably to inform Dumbledore of the password change).

    Harry walked in and fell heavy upon his bed. It was Tuesday night, he told himself and tomorrow he would be dueling again. The thought just wasn't enough to hide the fact that he screamed in front of Dumbledore and needlessly at the Fat Lady. Madam Pomfrey came a few minutes later with the potion. Harry fell right to sleep. It was good timing, he didn't want to be awake after what he just did.

    Harry was awakened by something soft landing on his cheek. He opened his eyes, looked up (he was laying on his side) and...

    "Hedwig!" She walked onto his arm and he and turned around to lay on his back. "Hedwig, I'm sorry."

    He sat up and raised his arm so she could look at him in the eye. She turned around and stuck her tail feathers up as far as she could, apparently still bitter. Harry hadn't seen her since the day he flung her off his foot. She flew off to land on the windowsill and showed him her tail again. Harry leaned forward and his eyes started to water. Hedwig was his best friend next to Ron and Hermione. Even if she couldn't talk, she understood every word from him. If he couldn't have a moment with anyone else, Hedwig was always there.

    He stepped out of bed and propped himself up against the side of it, bending his legs up close to himself. Elbows on his knees, face in his hands, he tried to hold back more tears and sniffed. Something landed on his shoulder. Harry picked his head off his hands and looked to see Hedwig cuddled up against his neck. He stroked her back; she hooted affectionately, nibbling him. By the faded light on the walls, it was still not morning. Harry had fallen fast asleep in this position.

    He was awoken again by Ron who had taken to yelling "SNAPE!" in his ear. Harry was sprawled on the floor with Hedwig sitting on his side. He quickly sat up spilling Hedwig who flew to sit on his head.

    "Umm?" was all that came from Ron's mouth.

    "Hedwig, she came back to me!" said Harry in a dazed and sarcastic voice. Ron rolled his eyes at him. "Okay now Hedwig, off my head. I don't want your poop in my hair." He shook his head and she landed on his shoulder.

    "You two are unbelievable."

    "She's just an owl." At that, Hedwig turned her tail up at Harry (mind you, she was so close to his face, her tail feather went up his nose). "Sorry, Hedwig. You're my best friend next to Ron, Hermione and Hagrid." She went back to nibbling him. Ron looked at him funny. "Well she is! She woke me last night by sitting on my face. Guess she just wanted me to apologize. Now we're best friends again, right Hedwig?" She stopped nibbling. "Oh come on!" She flew off his shoulder and landed on the windowsill again. Harry took some food he saved last night for Hedwig out of his trunk and gave it to her and she ate it happily. "Don't roll your eyes at me, Ron. I just may go ballistic again." Ron stared at him. "I'm kidding. Can we go have breakfast now?"

    "Sure, soon as you get the bird poop off the side of your pajamas." Indeed, Hedwig had forgotten to do her business outside.

    "Ugh! Hedwig!"

    "That must be her last laugh. Guess that means she's friendly again," said Ron trying hard - and failing - to stifle a laugh. Hedwig hooted in agreement.

    "Come on," said Harry, slightly irked, as he changed behind some curtains, "let's get Hermione and then some breakfast." Hermione had been sitting in the commons talking to some first years about what sounded like how to tolerate Snape.

    "Coaching first years into thinking Snape is not that bad of a teacher? Oh let's all make Love Potions and share them during class!" growled Ron.

    Hermione simply sighed at him -- loudly -- said good luck to the first years and walked off with Harry out through the portrait hole.

    Ron looked at the first years and said, "Honestly, with Snape you just need to threaten him a full body bind. But really, he hates it when you're nice to him," he snickered. The first years look horrified as Ron ran out to catch up with Harry and Hermione.

    Within seconds, the three of them were in deep conversation.

    "So you're really stuck on the idea that the ancients are evil, aren't you, huh?" asked Hermione to Harry, still not giving in to the idea.

    "Yes," said Harry confidently. Hermione sighed. "You've been doing lots of sighing at me lately. Anything the matter?"

    Ron put a hand over his mouth and said, "Oh, no... Hermione, you're failing Potions, aren't you!" in complete sarcasm.

    "No, it-it's not that. It's just that I'm starting to believe you."

    "What!?" squealed Ron. "Well, I... umm..." Harry nodded at him, arms folded.

    "I really wish You-Know-Who would go after Malfoy and not me," said Harry. "Did Hagrid tell you guys what he found out?"

    "Yeah," Hermione and Ron said in unison. "He said that, er..."

    "He read a book about them and it suggested that they were good wizards to start with," said Hermione. "The mark was a trait they had no one could explain. It would glitter gold when they were using it and would make their skin glow white when it was in full effect, meaning you could do spells you didn't even know, they would just come to you when you wanted to do something." Hermione took a bite of her eggs.

    "Yeah," said Ron trying to sound important and seizing Hermione's silence. "They-"

    "Something happened, the book said," said Hermione, ignoring Ron's frown. "But it just ends before saying what happened. Looks like the writer died or something because there isn't even a period at the end of that sentence."

    "That's right," said Hagrid as he came up to them. "And there's plenty more about them ancients we don't know!"

    "I can't believe this," said Hermione, "thousands of years of stories about good things the ancients have done and it turns out they hid more secrets than that stupid Chamber of Secrets? The ancients must be over five thousand years old! This... is ridiculous!"

    "This is true, Hermione," said Harry with even more confidence now, sounding to put it to conclusion. Hagrid sat down. They looked around at one another with grave looks on their faces. "So the question is... now what?" Harry clearly had more to worry about than the other three.

    "I don't know," said Hermione, followed by a slow, deep breath of concern, being a little louder on the outtake than she intended. They all looked at each other again through pained eyes.