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Chapter Nine

The Summoners

Harry awoke blearily as a ray of sunlight stabbed at his eyes; he grumbled, protesting at having to wake up. His dream, for once, had not been a nightmare, fantasy, or Voldemort-related dream, but rather a strange mixture of recent events, current fears, and questions. But he was okay with that; he was glad he'd had just a simple weird dream rather than a symbolic or nightmarish one.

He jumped in surprise, as suddenly, a familiar old voice said, "Well, Harry? How are you feeling today?" He turned to see Dumbledore sitting by his bed, blue eyes twinkling as usual, though perhaps a bit dimmed.

Sitting up, Harry mumbled "Oh, ah, fine professor. A bit tired, and very confused, but I'm basically alright."

"Good to hear. Poppy gave you some good potions, I see. Well!" Dumbledore turned away from the potions on the bedside table, gaze now directed at Harry, saying, "So, you say you are confused? Ask me if you like, and I will divulge as much information that I can without getting you into any more trouble."

Harry nodded, gazing trustingly into Dumbledore's eyes. He wondered how many answers Dumbledore could give him before he ran out of the safe answers. Suddenly, a different thought altogether occurred to him.

"Er, Sir, where is Dr-er, Malfoy? He answered some of my questions, and he might have some of his own to ask, sir."

Dumbledore raised a brow (a talent that Harry had always envied and wished he had), saying, "I am glad that it seems that you and young Malfoy are getting along, however, I do wish either of you would tell me quite how it became this way." Harry blushed, and shook his head violently. He refused to tell. Sighing in surrender, Dumbledore said, "Well, I will not pursue the subject any longer, then. Draco has already asked his questions, and gone back to his common room. I told him to not cause any ruckus of any sort and to not bother you. Surprisingly enough, he consented to the agreement, and was reading a book to your unconscious self when you awoke. I presume he told you about the scars?"

"Yes sir, he did. But I was wondering...What about his scar, sir? He said I was given my scar by a Summoner--Voldemort--and that he was also given a scar by a Summoner. But that's him! So did he give the scar to himself?"

Dumbledore eyes twinkled as he smiled, nodding. "Very interesting question, Harry. Yes, Draco did give the scar to himself. It is not a scar like that from an injury. It is like yours--given by a curse."

"But...why would he give the scar to himself? I don't understand."

"Well, Harry, Draco was born a Summoner, you see. Summoners are very powerful, and Draco is an untrained one, and, until recently, hasn't known that he is one of the last two Summoners. He already had a vague idea what a Summoner was, knew that it implied great power that someone is born with. Not knowing that he was one, Draco...how do I put this? He branded himself."

Harry sat there in silence, shocked.

"BRANDED?"

"Yes. It was entirely accidental, of course. Well, actually, I am not sure about this. I don't know the exact story, the boy refuses to tell me, but there are only two ways he could have gotten that scar: in an accident where he became very emotional, and in the intensity of this emotion--most likely sorrow, anger, or frustration--he put that spell on himself."

"A spell to give him the scar?"

"No. A curse, a symbol. Summoners always have symbols, and, I believe, in a fit of emotion, the symbol came to Draco, manifested itself as his personal symbol, the symbol of his power. Voldemort has the Dark Mark, and Draco his Eye of Flame. The alternative to this, that Draco accidentally gave himself this symbol, is that he gave it to himself purposely. This would imply that Draco found the chart of Summoner related symbols in a book, most likely one quite ancient, and for some reason or other, decided to imprint the symbol on his skin. Contrary to belief, Voldemort did not make up the Dark mark himself; it was born with him, a symbol of his specific power--what he orients his power towards mostly, which is death and trickery. Summoners are born with the symbols just as they are with the power. It is a part of them, representing them."

"So...wait...what does Draco's symbol represent?"

"The Eye of Flame? It represents a special sight, perceptivity, you may call it, an inner, inhumane ability to understand things, wisdom, really. Yes. It represents wisdom, as well as confusion. Upon himself and others around him. Does that answer your question, Harry?"

"Well, yes, but...I wanted to know more about the Summoners. He said that he and Voldemort are the last two."

Dumbledore's gaze clouded, the usual twinkle in his now only faintly glimmering. He suddenly reminded Harry of his fourth year, when Dumbledore had barged into the room, furious and powerful, and saved Harry from dying at the hands of Crouch jr. However, Dumbledore wasn't angry now, so this look was milder. But it was serious, and grim.

"Yes, Draco and Voldemort are the last two Summoners. The Summoners were all very powerful people, Harry. Special wizards and witches trained in childhood to control and use their power, born special. There was not, is not, and never will be a way to learn to become a Summoner. The abilities and knowledge are born to one from the start. The Ministry of magic, in the olden days, used to be made of solely Summoners. But gradually, the amount lessened, till only the Hogwarts four and a few others were the only Summoners left."

"How did the amount lessen, sir?"

"The OtherWorld." Harry looked questioningly at Dumbledore, who continued. "The OtherWorld is the name for the trilogy of dimensions that are separate from the dimension wizards and nonmagic people live in, Harry. Full of creatures like unicorns, gryphons, centaurs, hippogriffs, and powerful beings such as warlocks, shape shifters, and more, the OtherWorld is where people with all kinds of special magic can go to their own designated dimension for that type of magic. Everyone magical can fit into one of the three dimensions of the OtherWorld.

"However, the way of getting through the gate to the OtherWorld, that knowledge disappeared from earth along with Salazar Slytherin. The rest of the Hogwarts four were content to put spells on the OtherWorld gates and let our two Worlds be separate, but Slytherin was not. When he disappeared from this world, or maybe died, the knowledge went with him, for Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, and Ravenclaw put memory charms on themselves so they could not remember. And the scrolls of parchment on which they wrote about the OtherWorld became lost. I myself only know about the Summoners because I have explored into the deep of Hogwarts and found out its many secrets. Regardless of the gate, some OtherWorld beings, such as the centaurs, hippogriffs, unicorns and etecetera we see today, slipped into our world. And as times changed, magic lessened even more. OtherWorld beings even became scarce, as well as wizards and witches. This, for magical beings and people, was the Ice Age. Magic was frozen, like ice.

"But, when I was but a boy attending Hogwarts, the Chamber of Secrets was found, and in it, a being of power, similar to a human, yet quite not. This was the first Summoner. Time went by, and some forgot about him, some didn't. I did not. The boy never told anyone about the OtherWorld, never spoke a word, but we knew. He had an aura of power about him, and an obvious gift for magic."

"Was it...Voldemort?"

"Yes. Tom Riddle came from the OtherWorld, slipped into our world as a mere spirit, took birth as a human, lived in Hogwarts for years. It is said that Salazar Slytherin found him in the Forbidden Forest, knew him to be powerful, and locked him up into the Chamber of Secrets for experimentation, trying to gain power himself from the boy. He did train Voldemort, in some ways. He was more of a father to Tom, I suppose, then Tom's muggle father was. The other three Hogwarts four never found out about Tom. I found the boy in the Chamber of Secrets when I first came to Hogwarts--I decided to take my own personal tour of the castle, alone. He stayed at Hogwarts as a student, for I insisted to the Headmaster that he stay, knowing of his power, and not knowing that he would wreak such havoc in the wizarding world."

Harry was shocked beyond words. Dumbledore had let Voldemort--as Tom Riddle, a boy--stay at Hogwarts? So it was all...? But no, Harry refused to blame it on Dumbledore. Dumbledore hadn't known, and Voldemort probably would have still done his evil deeds if he hadn't stayed at Hogwarts--after all, he had already had immense power and magical abilities. In a way, Harry thought, it's better that Dumbledore took Tom Riddle in, really. If not, he wouldn't know so much about Voldemort, wouldn't be the one Voldemort fears, and I would have had to find out about Voldemort all by myself, without Dumbledore's help.

Harry still had a question. He was very curious about the Summoners--after all, Draco was one.

"Sir...what exactly IS a Summoner?"

"They are gifted in certain fields of magic, and once they are trained on how to control their power they are able to do many things. The main thing that makes Summoners different from normal wizards and witches is that one, they can reach into the OtherWorld, see and hear things there, and go there, and two, they have the Sight. Not the Inner Eye like Professor Trelawney is always talking about, but the Sight to see and feel the presence and thoughts of others. Almost like telepathy, but not direct contact with a person's thoughts, only vague generalizations. And, for them, each person has an aura, a color around them, a sense that they feel when one is present near them."

Harry was quiet, thinking. So absorbed was he in his thoughts that he wasn't even aware that Dumbledore was silent, waiting for him to speak. He said the first thought that had occurred to him upon hearing this: "So that's how Draco always knows when people are around, and what House they're from. I was beginning to wonder if he had eyes in the back of his head." Dumbledore laughed, and Harry, jolted out of his swirl of thoughts, swiveled his head towards the Headmaster. Realizing what he'd said aloud, he began to laugh also.

Both student and Headmaster looked up, however, as Draco sauntered up to them. Actually, he didn't saunter up to them yet. But he stood in the doorway. Harry sensed Draco; it was much like the feeling of stalking the Slytherin, knowing which step he would take next. But now he knew that the only reason he'd ever been able to tell Draco's presence was because the boy, unable to control his Summoner essence or aura, reeked of magical power. He reeked of it so much that Harry could almost smell it.

A slight blush tinged Harry's cheeks as he looked up at Draco. He looked past the boy, farther, pretending that he had never looked in that way at Draco, and also wanting to hide the blush from Dumbledore. But he knew Draco noticed it anyway. The boy noticed everything! He turned back, blush gone, in dismay, as Draco sat, not beside him, not even across from him, but towards the right of Dumbledore, on the chair against the wall by Harry's bedside table. Harry had to turn in his bed to be able to see Draco at all. He did so, trying his best to be inconspicuous.

It worked partly; Dumbledore didn't notice. Draco though, of course, did.

The Slytherin shot Harry a venomous glare, before turning to Dumbledore, and saying, "Headmaster, may I take my leave of the Hospital Wing now? Madame Pomfrey said I was free to go if I take this potion in three hours." Draco held up a tiny, triangular glass bottle full of a blue liquid.

Dumbledore nodded, saying, "I trust Poppy. You're free to go." Draco tucked the potion back into his pocket, and was just walking away, forced to walk in between Harry on his hospital bed and Dumbledore on the chair across from the bedside. The Headmaster stopped Draco in his tracks, saying, "Since you two have accomplished much between you as of late, since you found much out about each other, since Slytherin and Gryffindor were united--although perhaps temporarily--and you, Draco, helped Harry to the hospital wing--you must shake hands."

Harry wondered, for a flickering momentary thought, if Dumbledore knew what had happened. But waving off the terrifying possibility, he supposed that by Slytherin and Gryffindor being united and accomplishing much between each other, the Headmaster had meant the realization of their linked scars. And really, a handshake wasn't much...right?

Draco, not even wanting to look at Dumbledore, stiffly turned towards Harry. Harry looked up at the other boy pleadingly, wondering if the Slytherin would show a hint of what Harry thought Draco must secretly feel towards him inside. But Draco's eyes were as cold and stony as usual, if not even more--that gaze was so full of hatred. As Harry felt the other boy's hand slide into it's lock with his, he remembered what Draco had said in the locker room: "Don't you think I meant whatever I said or did. I'm innocent of any ardent thing I just did involving you, alright?" and also the boy had mentioned a potion "getting to him."

Something was amiss.

As Draco gripped Harry's hand, tight, even tighter than the shake before each Quidditch match, his eyes bore such malice and hatred toward Harry that Harry almost shrunk away. It was even worse, now. Draco had denied feeling anything toward Harry, even after the locker room incident.

I still mean nothing to him?! thought a very appalled, saddened, and very confused Harry.

But then why had the locker room incident happened at all? Why had Harry been pounced on, kissed? Something was most definitely wrong with this entire situation. And Harry was determined to find out what.