Harry Potter and the Path to Power

Chapter VIII

Soon the day before the trial had arrived.

Harry had a feeling of nervous anticipation.

Maybe Dumbledore's visit would mean some more answers. Answers to questions like why he had kept Harry from getting angry, what was happening to him? But knowing Dumbledore it would probably mean more questions than answers.

Harry was by now pretty sure that Dumbledore had placed wards at the Burrow to keep him calm. He had not been angry once, not even when the twins had finally gotten him. That lyrical potion had been embarrassing beyond words, especially at moment when his voice had broken.

No anger, no fear, no sadness... but no exuberant joy either.

Dumbledore had owled Mrs. Weasley that he would be arriving at one o'clock in the afternoon.

Harry spent the morning pacing up and down the kitchen, the living room and Ron's room, driving both Ron and Hermione to distraction. The only thing that had half diverted him was the Quidditch practise that Ron had insisted on, but Ron soon gave up on that. He had gotten the snitch before Harry twice, something that had never happened before.

The twins had gone to London with their father to do some 'early shopping' and weren't due back until shortly before dinner; no doubt it was for another product that would cause mayhem and carnage for the unwary.

Ginny had gone to a friend's house, and Hermione had finally fled the Burrow and was, as had become her habit, sunbathing and reading.

After a quiet lunch that Harry hardly tasted, Dumbledore stepped out of the fireplace.

"Hello Molly. Harry, Ron, Hermione, how are you all?"

"Fine, thank you, Professor," the general reply came, everyone expectant of things to come.

"I had the Floo system put back on, as we will have to travel to court tomorrow. There is, however, an identification system now; no unidentified users are allowed to pass.

Quite ingenious actually, they just needed a few days to build and install it, and it only works because there is only one exit at the Burrow," the headmaster smiled.

"Well now, maybe Harry and I should go to the living room? We have a few things to discuss."

"Of course, Professor," Mrs. Weasley replied. "Would you like anything to drink?"

"Why is it I can never get my former students to call me by my first name? Really Molly, I've told you before, please call me Albus." Molly smiled, knowing she would probably make the same mistake the next time and her former teacher would probably chide her for it again.

"Why don't we go to the living room, Harry?" Dumbledore said, as he began ushering Harry towards the door. He turned back to Mrs. Weasley and said: "Some tea after we're done would be lovely, Molly, but we will be a while, so don't start as of yet." Dumbledore followed Harry to the living room.

"Please sit down Harry, I have much to tell you and afterward you will have some questions, I am sure."

Harry and Dumbledore took opposite seats. For the first time since he knew him Harry thought he saw Dumbledore display hesitation.

"Do you remember you told me how you parted your mind?" Dumbledore began; Harry only nodded confirmation, still not comfortable with talking about that period in his life.

"This alone is remarkable enough. I've heard and read about it before, but it is only done by those who are very powerful and very experienced.

My guess would be that because of your ...'desperation' you were able to do it. It was an astounding feat of willpower in any case.

You told me you put your magic in that separated part as well. As far as I know that has never been attempted before and as you know, something that has never been done before always brings unforeseen consequences, as indeed is now the case.

What you have done means that your mind and your magic were forced to exist in a limited space, together."

"The white light," Harry suddenly gasped, comprehension dawning on his face, "it was my magic."

"Yes, Harry, that was your magic," Dumbledore said with a proud smile, instantly understanding what Harry meant.

"You have been in contact with your magic like few wizards before you have. This will undoubtedly lead to those unforeseen consequences.

You may already have noticed how strongly your magic responds to your emotions. What you may not have noticed is how strong that magic has become.

Normally a wizard's or witch's magic develops most strongly during his or her adolescence. We think this is nature's way of giving you time to adjust, like you have time to adjust to a larger body.

We, as your educators, have a general idea of how powerful you will become when you reach your peak. This peak of course varies with knowledge and training, but we can always give a general indication.

The problem, Harry, is that, although you were going to become a powerful wizard in your own right, you have reached a level of power now that is already comparable with what we expected your peak to be. And you're still growing."

"What does that mean, Professor?" Harry asked with worry in his voice, remembering what had happened in the hospital.

"That means, Harry, that because you have undergone a forced growth you will have trouble controlling your magic for a long time.

You seem especially unstable magic-wise when you are angry. We don't know why that is, but we can guess.

We think that your mind and magic have been interconnected in a whole new way. What that will lead to we cannot say, but what we do know is that your magic reacts to your emotions."

"Professor, does that mean that every time I get mad, something will happen?"

"Or scared, sad, happy; we just can't say, but like I said, anger seems to create the strongest response.

We have taken some temporary measures here, at the Burrow, to insure nothing happens.

These measures will, however, not work at Hogwarts.

For one thing, there is too much magic there, the wards we used are very delicate. The main reason, however, is that with those wards in place you will never learn to control your magic.

We are working on a permanent solution. Do you have any questions so far?"

"Many, but none very important right now," Harry's voice sounded amazed and at the same time a little frightened. He was trying to understand and accept a whole new range of concepts

"Then I shall continue.

To better help you, we need to know more. For that purpose I have brought this."

Dumbledore reached into his robes and took out a crystal. It had so many facets that it seemed almost round. It looked hollow, but when Harry took it from Dumbledore it felt heavy.

"I want you to sit on the floor, cross your legs and set the crystal before you."

Harry did as he was told. The crystal held a strange kind of fascination for him. The light that fell into it from the noon sun was fractured in so many ways and directions that it seemed almost a work of art.

Harry felt as if the crystal was pulling at him, seducing him.

Dumbledore took a chair and set it behind Harry.

"Now Harry, I want you to concentrate on the crystal. Look at it, try to feel it with your magic, try to become aware of it in every way possible." Dumbledore's voice took on a magical quality.

The crystal was just sitting there, on the floor, but as Harry strained it seemed to become sharper in his vision, to sparkle more, to come closer. Slowly h felt himself fall into it.

It was as if his consciousness was drawn into it and he was aware of it in a whole new way with senses he never knew he had.

"The crystal is all there is. You are the crystal, Harry. See it, feel it..."

Slowly Dumbledore's voice faded from Harry's consciousness. Further and further down he spiralled into the crystal. It was fascinating.

He had the feeling the crystal had its own purpose, it felt like it was waiting to be filled with something; in fact it was being filled by something right now. But what?

Even further down he went, spiralling down, deeper and deeper, drawn on by curiosity and a strange need to see what it was that was starting to fill the crystal.

When he reached the very core of the crystal he saw it. There was a white haze that was familiar. Harry recognized it now; he couldn't believe how ignorant he had been before: It was his magic; how could it be anything else, to deny it was to deny that his arms were part of him.

The purpose of the crystal was now clear to Harry. It was meant to contain a sample of raw magic. Why hadn't Dumbledore told him this? Maybe finding this out was a test?

Well, if it was a test he would pass it.

Now looking inside himself, Harry searched for that same white light that was before him. As always it was there, in his very core, the still centre of his being.

He didn't try to grab it; he knew that to be futile; he had tried it so many times when he was still in his hospital bed to no avail. Instead he gently guided and coaxed it to the surface.

As he backed out of the crystal, slowly receding from its core, he let the magic pour out of him, filling the void he left behind. When he reached the outside of the crystal he gradually began to become aware of his body and senses.

"Come back, Harry, come back." It was Dumbledore but his voice sounded misty, as if from a great distance.

Slowly Harry untangled himself from the crystal further, filling the places he left with magic, and finally he left the crystal and returned to his body fully.

"Come back, Harry, come back," Dumbledore sounded hoarse, as if he had been saying the same thing over and over for along time. His hands were on Harry's temples.

"I'm here," Harry said, feeling content to leave his eyes closed for now, remembering the inside of the crystal.

"Thank Merlin," Dumbledore whispered with relief. "You went into the crystal so deeply, so quickly. I had not expected this.

You were lucky you came back when you did, for I could not reach you.

Had you remained in the crystal much longer, I doubt you would have been able to re-establish the connection between you and your body."

"But Professor, I wasn't gone that long, fifteen minutes at most." Harry protested, slowly becoming aware of small aches in his limbs and back.

"You were in the crystal for five hours, Harry."

Harry was absolutely amazed; the time spent in the crystal had not seemed more than ten to fifteen minutes to him, but as he squinted his eyes open and his eyes were assaulted by light, he could see that the sun in a totally different position than when they had started; it must be true.

"I think we should tell the others you're back.

They were quite worried. I had to send them away, though; they were too much of a distraction."

Harry now opened his eyes completely; he still felt drowsy, as if after a long night's sleep. The crystal was still there, on the ground before him. It now shone with an intense white light. When Harry picked it up it was warm to the touch.

"That crystal was meant to sample a little of your magic in its natural state," Dumbledore commented when he saw Harry looking at the crystal, "it should be emanating a soft, coloured light that corresponds with the nature of your magic. Instead it is shining brightly and it is white. You never cease to surprise me, Harry."

Dumbledore held out his hand. "May I have it please?"

"I found out what it was for Professor, so I decided to fill it as best I could," with these words Harry turned around to face Dumbledore and handed him the crystal.

"You found out what the crystal was for?" Harry nodded.

"Fascinating," was Dumbledore's only comment. Both stood up and Dumbledore led Harry towards the kitchen.

When they entered Mrs. Weasley immediately enveloped Harry in a crushing hug: "Are you alright, poor boy? We were so afraid you were gone again."

At the kitchen table were Ron, Hermione and Ginny. They had all stood up when Harry and Dumbledore had entered and all had worried looks upon their faces.

"I'm fine," Harry said, but no one looked very convinced.

"I assure you Mr. Potter is quite alright," Dumbledore said in a confident voice, "He was in the crystal a little deeper than is usual and so it took a little longer. No harm was done."

Looking relieved, his friends rushed up to Harry. Hermione hugged Harry while Ron was slamming him on the shoulder; Ginny simply extended her hand and covered Harry's hand where it was lying on Hermione's shoulder.

"Now Molly, I think there was talk of tea before we started," Dumbledore smiled

"Oh dear me, of course." Mrs. Weasley dried off the tears that had appeared in her eyes and set to making tea.

When the tea was ready they all sat down at the kitchen table, the mood one of relief.

"Ah Molly, you still make excellent tea, where did you say you got your blend?

Oh never mind, I know: it's a secret."

"I will pack you some if you like, Professor, to take with you, but as you said, my tea blend is a secret," Mrs. Weasley had a very pleased smile.

"I will be off after tea and come back tomorrow to escort Harry to the trial." Dumbledore took a look at his unusual pocket watch and said: "This took a little longer than expected, but then again there were some very unexpected and useful results.

Well, I had best be off. See you all tomorrow."

After everyone had said goodbye to Dumbledore he walked towards the fireplace.

"Oh Harry, before I forget, I know you lost all your clothes and haven't been able to go shopping yet; that, by the way, is partly my fault.

Anyway, I brought you some formal robes for tomorrow," and with that Dumbledore reached into his robes again and pulled out a small, flat box. In his hand it expanded.

"Here you go, Harry," Dumbledore handed Harry the box.

"Thank you, Sir." Harry was a little surprised by this gesture.

"Least I could do Harry, least I could do," and with that Dumbledore took out a little Floo powder, threw it in the fire and disappeared while saying: "Ministry Research Department."

*****

"You wanted to see me Albus?" asked McGonagall as she entered the headmaster's office.

Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, staring at a crystal shining with an undiminishing white light. He seemed lost in thought.

"Is that a Captura crystal?" she asked a bit puzzled.

"Yes it is," Dumbledore answered.

"Then why is it shining so brightly... and why white?"

"Because of the magic it contains."

McGonagall was silent for a moment, studying the answer for hidden meaning beneath its simplistic surface.

"Whose is it?"

"Harry's"

"Dear Merlin help us."