Enternity Chapter 13, part two
“Why can’t I remember like you can? It’s all fragmented…” Draco’s head pounded, it felt as if it would split right down the middle. Harry hushed him, not answering his questions.
“You’re doing really well in the DA. Everyone is really, even little Eleanor. Well, she’s the same age as Ginny and Luna, but she seems so small, you know? And, I think it’s funny that Ginny was so worried that her parents would react to her and Luna badly; did she show you the letter she got from her mum? I wonder what Mrs. Weasley thinks of Ron and Hermione… not that there is a Ron and Hermione just yet, but it’ll happen soon. And -” Draco yanked Harry down into a kiss to silence his ramblings.
The effect was instantaneous. Harry just seemed to melt and all the nervousness that was gathering up fled. Strangely, or perhaps not, Draco’s migraine seemed to lessen as the moments went by. Harry’s fingers traveled down his face, over his neck and curled in his nightshirt. This kiss was the type Draco dreamt about, the ones he remembered from pervious lifetimes -passionate, with emotions and thoughts bundled in it, and hot.
Draco ran his hands down Harry’s back; the smaller boy was still too skinny. Harry shifted so that he was straddling Draco’s hips and the movement caused delicious friction.
From this close, Draco realized that Harry smelt like peaches and rain. Harry gently pushed away from him, hovering above the other boy.
“What?” Draco carded his fingers through Harry’s hair.
“I can’t be caught here by your roommates, for both our sakes.” Harry laid his head down on Draco’s chest, looking up at him. “I think I should go back to the Tower…”
Draco was pretty sure that most teenage boys in this position would be slightly insulted by the fact that their lover didn’t seem to want to make out with them… especially when said lover had actually had sex with at least one other person before. However, since Draco was not most teenage boys, he supposed that accounted for the reason he wasn’t that insulted. Besides, he was almost positive that the Order had left out a very vital aspect of Harry’s abuse.
“I know very well that things will go badly if the wrong people find us in bed together. However, you don’t have to insult my intelligence by saying that’s the reason you don’t want to continue this.” Draco kissed Harry’s forehead gently.
“Draco… it’s not that I don’t want to…”
“I know. At least, I think I know. I’ve never pushed you before; I’m certainly not going to push you now.”
When Draco woke up the next morning, Harry was gone and in his place was a purple hyacinth.
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“Alright, everyone’s here, so we’ll start. As per usual, we will start with a lecture of sorts, head right into a question and answer session and then into actual training. No one’s going to be missed for at least a few hours, no? If that answer is yes, you’d best leave now and I will find you later to yell at you.” Fortunately for all involved, no one left the room. Harry smiled.
“We’ll be talking about the Dark Arts and Magicks of Heaven. Obviously I’m not going to actually teach you how to perform them, but I will teach you how to recognize the effects of both in objects and humans. I’ll also teach you how to fight against some of the more… not so pretty aspects of them. So, as I’ve already told you, the Dark Arts are defined as Magicks that exploit, harm, influence, or disrupt balance between the planes. I don’t have to explain what exploiting, harming or influencing is, but I do need to explain what exactly it means to disrupt balance between the planes. Trying to bring back the dead by using the Dark Arts is considered as disrupting the balance. Trying to bind a god or goddess to this plane, or trying to cause an apocalypse is disrupting the balance. Use of the Dark Arts, as I’ve said, taints the blood. It turns you into something less then human and leaves you susceptible to things you would have been able to fight as a human.
“Now, the Magicks of Heaven are defined as Magicks that steal from all to give to one. Basically, it’s when a person uses magic to steal magic from another source. Use of the Magicks of Heaven crystallizes the blood and you turn into a living stone, with your soul trapped inside. Now, overuse of the Dark Arts has happened before, many times before in fact, so that’s why we know exactly what happens when one overuses it. However, the Magicks of Heaven have never been overused. Typically, people steer clear of them because they’re simply too dangerous. But, the only case that was close was that of Merlin; our Merlin, not the muggles’ Merlin. So, questions?” Inevitability, Hermione’s hand was the first one up.
“What do you mean, ‘Our Merlin’? There’re two?” Everyone in the room gave her a very strange look. Even Harry himself was remiss - he figured Hermione had already known that - but of course that was a stupid thing to assume. After all, she was muggleborn; she didn’t even know about the wizarding world until she turned eleven.
“Ah, this is a really good example of how flawed our current community is…” Draco muttered. He sighed before turning to address Hermione.
“Yes, the two Merlins are actually two different people. The muggle Merlin is the one associated with King Arthur, Lancelot, Guinevere, the Round Table, and all that stuff. That is actually the Wizard’s Merlin’s grandson. Our Merlin is someone from Ancient Rome, his name actually wasn’t Merlin - everyone just called him that because his mother was a Welsh Barbarian and that’s what she would call him. It was, at first, a way to tease him about his “unclean” blood no doubt, but it stuck and he went down in our history as Merlin. When King Arthur’s Merlin came onto the scene, he was addressed as Merlin only after he died and was written about. When he was alive, he was addressed by his actual name, which was Ambrosius Aurelianus Dumbledore - our Headmaster’s great-great-great-granduncle. Understand?”
Harry could see the gears still turning in Hermione’s head, but she nodded and thanked Draco for explaining.
“Okay, what about all that ‘use the Dark Arts and you will lose your mind!’ business? Is that just Ministry/parental propaganda or is it actually true?” Dean asked, he sounded curious with a touch of sarcasm.
“The Dark Arts make you less then human and thus you become more susceptible to things, like madness. Some people who dabble too deep do wind up mad - a combination of their lost humanity and the things they did to other people. Of course, not everyone ends up mad, just the majority. Does that answer your question?”
“Yeah, thanks, Harry.”
“Anymore questions?”
“Yeah, why are they called Magicks of Heaven when clearly they’re just as dark as the Dark Arts?” Neville sounded confident, it made Harry smile.
“Because they’re not dark. The Dark Arts feel like Dark Magic whereas the Magicks of Heaven feel like Light Magic. You’ll be able to feel the difference yourself once we get to Training. Good question.” No one else seemed to have any questions, so Harry decided to move on.
He grabbed his bag from where it lay against a wall and went about setting things up. He conjured four tables, each one getting its own set of four flimsy, see-through, conjured up walls and a door. Onto each table was placed an item pulled from his bag.
“Okay, as you can see, I’ve made four little rooms and placed an object in each of them. Now, two of those objects were used in a Dark Arts ritual, and still have the feel of that magic inside them. If you use an object in a Dark Arts ritual, the taint of that magic will stay in it until it is cleansed by fire. The same is true of human bodies - the magic taints and then corrupts anything around it. That’s why you can’t bury bodies that were killed by the Dark Arts - you’ll corrupt everything in the vicinity. Now, on the flip side, objects that have lingering air of the Magicks of Heaven in them feel barren. There’s nothing left to them. Humans that had the Magicks of Heaven cast upon them feel much the same way - the presence that should be there isn’t and, if you know how to look properly, they look distorted as well.
“Each of you will go into each of the rooms - alone - while the rest of us practice dueling in timed intervals. The order in which each of you will go into the rooms is as follows, please remember it yourself: Ginny first, then Ron, Luna, Eleanor, Hermione, Draco, Fred, Neville, George, Seamus, then Dean. And, for your peace of mind, the objects cannot harm you - but please do not touch them anyway.”
“Where in the world did you get those things? It’s probably illegal to even have them here!” Dean was riled and rightly so. Harry looked off to a shadowed corner, something like sadness and shame creeping into his expression, before it was wiped clean.
“Sometimes, a question is better then the answer. Alright, Ginny go on, the rest of you pair up and try to disarm the other - I want an emphasis on speed - real fights aren’t going to be slow- and use everything you can think of. Go!”
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“Albus, that book of Merlin’s is very interesting, historically and academically, but this book that was recovered from the Malfoy ruins… It’s like reading a horror story, only to realize it’s real. Accounts of massacres, various Dark Arts rituals, and even a few Magicks of Heaven rituals - it’s truly disturbing to read. On the other hand, both books discuss various persons of fame today as if they were just the person next door, which, of course, they were then. Then there are some people I’ve never even heard of, but were forces to be reckoned with. Like the Advisor of Merlin, Lady Saliar, who was also a General of the Roman Legion.” Remus lay both of the texts down on the table.
“It gets worse, I’m afraid. The book from the Malfoy ruins was the accounts of a military leader that worked directly under Merlin during the Roman Empire. It says that a lot of the various rituals were done for or in Merlin’s name. At least two massacres were because Merlin needed bodies for some ritual or another. The rituals using Magicks of Heaven were all completed by Merlin as well. Near the end, even the writer can see that something is wrong with Merlin - his movements are stiff and he hardly moves anymore.” Remus sat down, done with his report.
“Times were different then, we can never know for sure exactly what happened. Was there anything else of interest, or was it all just damning evidence of my great-great-great-great granduncle?” Albus massaged his temple. Remus could only half comprehend what it must feel like to have what was essentially his family’s dirty laundry blowing in the wind in front of the whole Order of the Phoenix.
“Well, the origins of Vampirism and Lycanthropy are discussed. Not in the General’s book, but in Merlin’s journal. Apparently, his mad genius brother was experimenting with animals, one of his potions exploded and a vampire bat and a wolf were doused in it. The explosion also caused a hole, and they escaped. The interesting thing about this is when the wolf bit a human it took almost a week for the effect to happen. He became a bloodthirsty beast, but it was permanent; he never regained human form. And, the one who was bit by the bat didn’t start to show signs of Vampirism until week later as well - that’s when the aversion to sunlight kicked in and he stopped needing human food.”
“Well, that clearly stops the medical debate: Lycanthropy is not a curse, it’s a disease - it’s obviously mutated since then.” Lucius Malfoy said in a bland tone.
“I find it interesting that both came from the results of a botched potions experiment. What in the world was being worked on that when upset it changes molecular structure?” Severus Snape sounded half curious and half awed.
“Was there anything else?” Albus asked.
“Just one thing: apparently, some families have something called a Guide. It’s like a guardian and a babysitter, I think? But they seem to also be very powerful; I was just thinking it might be a bad thing to run into, since a lot of Death Eaters are Purebloods. But, I’m not really sure if that’s relevant at all…” Remus trailed off. Lucius Malfoy sighed irritably.
“Albus I’m sure you are aware of what Lupin is alluding to, being a pureblood yourself.”
“Yes, I am, Lucius. Remus, that isn’t important. The Guides have all been put to sleep, much like the De Grindelwalds.” Remus shuddered at the mention of the De Grindelwalds. He may not have been alive for the war with Grindelwald, but he had read books and talked to people who were.
The De Grindelwalds were the favorites of Grindelwald: soldiers that could eradicate cities in a night. They were powerful and dangerous; they were that generation’s Death Eaters. They served Grindelwald with a zealot’s passion, and they were loyal to a madding degree - there was no betrayal amongst them, not even the thought of it. Rumor had it that they had given up their will and hearts to Grindelwald and in exchange they were granted limited immortality - they could live for up to a thousand years before they died. Remus wasn’t sure if he believed that particular rumor or not.
“So, Lucius, the books that you ‘borrowed’ from the Ministry storeroom… I do hope you intend to return them.” Albus looked at Lucius Malfoy as a parent would look at a child who was caught drawing on the walls. Malfoy bristled, but kept his tone civil as he responded that he would, eventually, return them.
And the meeting went on from there.
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Ginny walked through the corridors with Luna drifting beside her, their hands clasped. Luna was reading the letter from Ginny’s mother, smiling and blushing just a little. Ginny herself was in shock - her mother didn’t care that she liked girls. She thought there’d be more disappointment, more denial, just more drama on her mother’s end. She was happy that her mother accepted her, it was just shocking.
“There are a lot of Crawlshoes around here lately.” Luna commented as she handed Ginny’s letter back. Ginny blinked at her girlfriend, confused. “Crawlshoes are stray emotions; feelings like vanity, arrogance, and lust. Normally, there aren’t a lot of them just floating about in Hogwarts. It’s odd.” Ginny nodded, not sure what to make of the comment.
A suit of armor clattered to the ground a few steps behind them, causing them both to jump.
“Dammit, Peeves! Will you -?!” Ginny cut herself off as she noticed that the cause of the disturbance was not Peeves, but Crookshanks. The fat cat had a mouse in its mouth and was looking at the fallen suit of armor as if to say “this is your fault, you know.”
As the armor picked itself up and Ginny and Luna continued towards the Ravenclaw common room, it occurred to Ginny that she hadn’t seen Peeves at all this term, and it was almost the Christmas holiday break.
‘Well, maybe he decided to stop being so annoying. Or maybe he’s just been busy with the new first years or something.’ Ginny nodded to herself, and didn’t give it another thought.