Harry Potter and the Tri-Fold Prophecy - 5. Chapter 5

“A bit less power perhaps Harry?” Dumbledore remarked, casually flicking his wand at the burning rubble. “Concentration is key to most magics.”

Grumbling in frustration, as his previous attempts at Lumos had caused his wand to shoot beams of burning light throughout the room, incinerating the first object they made contact with. Gathering his thoughts, he tried to actively channel less power into his wand. “Lumos,” Harry said, trying to keep his emotions under tight control.

A loud snap filled the room, and Harry found himself picking himself up off the specially cushioned floor. “This is impossible,” he grumbled, frustrated by his lack of success.

“On the contrary, my boy! We've already made some progress, that last spell was a deal more focused, if not less powerful.” Dumbledore seemed to think that Harry having blown himself across the room was of no cause for alarm. “You've been able to stop the light from leaving the wand tip, now you need to focus on using less power. I believe you will be able to master other spells much more easily when you have a starting point to base your power levels.”

“I hope so. I don't feel like being blown up by one of my own spells,” replied Harry as he walked through the room to retrieve his wand. “Lumos,” he said, once more concentrating on nothing but the spell.

There was a slight whooshing, and his wand lit up. It was several orders too bright, but it hadn't destroyed anything this time, which Harry figured to be an improvement. Cracking a smile, Harry turned to Dumbledore. “Seems you're right, professor!”

A low whining sound reverberated through the room, accompanied by the wand tip growing much brighter very quickly. A sudden bang, and Harry once more found himself air-born, soaring in the opposite direction of his wand.

“You need to concentrate, Harry. The amount of power you now control is far more than you are used to, and until you can contain it while concentrating you should not try anything else.” Dumbledore calmly walked over to pick up Harry's wand, only to notice the wand tip was lit up like a proper Lumos spell. “Harry, let go of your magic. Your spell is still active.”

“Nox,” Harry intoned, pointing at his wand nearly 30 metres away.

“Thank you,” the headmaster said as he bent over to pick up the wand. “Now, I want you to work on further controlling the Lumos spell. Let us see if we can get the light level down to the proper level before lunch time.”

Sighing, Harry once more took his wand and prepared to cast the most basic of spells. “Lumos,” he said quietly. The wand tip once more lit up, still much too bright. Trying to limit the flow of his magic, Harry stared at the wand, ignoring everything else. The light started to grow dimmer, then spread so the wand appeared to be a line of light appearing in Harry's hand. The spell was now at the proper level of light, but covering a much larger area than before.

“Most interesting,” Dumbledore stated as if observing a lab experiment. “It appears that your magic does not wish to be any more contained than that. It is possible that, with time, you may learn better control. I dare say that you did not get to Sixth Year in one day! Let us go eat. We can return here for further practice when you are rested.”

“Thanks, sir,” Harry breathed, quite through with spell casting for the minute. “Nox.”

“Harry, please let go of your magic.”

“But sir, I just did.” A glance around the room showed nothing unusual, so he was unsure as to what Dumbledore could be referring.

“Harry, you seem to have done something to make yourself invisible. It is possible you are simply blocking the light from leaving your body, making you invisible. The muggles have a lovely idea on how our eyes process light that could be applied to new invisibility spells, if most wizards weren’t so certain they knew everything. Concentrate on returning to normal, please.”

Invisible? Harry thought. I can see myself. Usually with invisibility magic I can't see myself either... Shaking himself, he closed his eyes and pictured his magic flowing through his body. He noticed some was extending beyond him, before curling back in on itself. That must be it. Now how am I supposed to stop it? Thinking of the way water moves, he thought to make a wall around his body so that the magic wouldn't escape.

“Much better, my boy! This is a most puzzling discovery. I have never heard of a spell being twisted in such a way,though it is also true that I have never heard of a case quite like yours. Perhaps I should start a journal of our discoveries. It could prove an invaluable tool for the future. Let us go collect the Malfoys, and make our way down to the lunch.”

__________________________________________________________________________________

“Draco, we will be meeting the Headmaster and Potter for lunch.” Narcissa fixed her son with a cold stare. “I expect you to be on your best behaviour. Something is strange with that boy, and it would not do for you two to get in a fight.”

“Something is always strange with Potter,” Draco mumbled while nodding to his mother.

“This is different, Draco, and you know it. He was not acting himself at all this morning. I might have an idea as to why, however for now I will keep that to myself.”

Sighing, Draco agreed with his mother. He was far more civil than he's ever been. He was the one that convinced Dumbledore to listen to us, and he appeared to be completely at ease with it too. I have to work to appear that calm in situations like that. Bah, Diplomacy. He had been taught the Art of Speech from a young age, but he still would much rather hex someone and be done with it than to attack with words like a proper High Society Heir.

While Draco was deep in thought, he missed the Headmaster walk in. “If you are hungry, we were just on our way down to lunch. Would you care to join us?”

Even though Professor Dumbledore had asked in his usual calm tones, Draco spun around as if shocked. With a reproving glance at her son for his lack of composure, Narcissa agreed to accompany them to the Great Hall.

Walking along the hallway, Draco noticed the portraits were whispering to each other while pointing at Harry. When they noticed him watching, they giggled and started an even more excited conversation, all the while glancing between the two boys. Pushing it out of his mind, Draco started to wonder over Harry's recent behaviour.

He and Dumbledore have been training for something, but why in the Room of Requirement? I would think they would have simply used a classroom. With Harry's new behaviour I'm not even sure they are practising magic...

Draco was startled out of his thoughts when they walked into the Great Hall. Instead of the house tables, or even the single table used during the Christmas Holidays, there was a small single table set for four people. Even though they had said they were eating lunch together, he never would have thought it would have been like this. Glancing over at Harry, he watched as the expression of mild shock quickly molded itself into a polite diplomatic visage, more fitting to a world conference than a simple lunch.

“Is there a specific chair you would prefer, Mrs. Malfoy,” he heard Harry ask, while he gestured to the table.

“No, thank you, Mr. Potter,” his mother replied, while she gave a slight nod, as if ticking something off on a mental checklist.

“Well, the house elves have given us a wonderful setup for our meal, and are no doubt hopping about waiting to serve us. Shall we?” Professor Dumbledore gave a small smile as he swept towards the table.

As they sat down, Harry was looking around as if for the food. Snickering to himself, Draco pulled his plate, silver with glowing green borders, closer and spoke clearly, ordering a seared fillet mignon, with french green beans and baby red potatoes.

Harry noticed that his plate was gold with glowing red borders, but when he touched it to bring it closer it flashed a bright blue and settled into a swirling pattern of blue and white.

“Um, Professor?” Harry asked, gesturing at his plate.

“Well, this is a most interesting turn of events. Harry, did you try to cast any spells on the plate?” Dumbledore asked after having picked up the plate and looking it over.

“No, when I touched it, it started doing that,” he said, as he gestured at the glowing plate.

Dumbledore took out his wand and waved it around the plate a couple times. “Well, there is no sign of any magic being applied to the plate since its creation, so perhaps it is simply confused about what house colours to use for you. Tell me, Harry, why did the hat take so long to sort you into Gryffindor all those years ago?”

“Um, well,” Harry glanced at Draco and his mother, then made up his mind. “It wanted to put me in Slytherin, sir. I told it I didn't want to be a Slytherin though.”

“I see,” Dumbledore replied, while peering over his glasses. “And why, precisely, would a boy that knew next to nothing about the workings of this school not wish to be in Slytherin?”

Harry glanced over at Draco one last time, blushing a deep scarlet. “Well, sir, I had met a boy in Diagon Alley, and he was sorted into Slytherin. I didn't want to be anything like him, so I told the hat not to put me in Slytherin. It argued with me, telling me that Slytherin would make me great, but I refused.”

Draco's head shot up from staring at the plate, a look of shock all over his face. His cheeks went a few shades pinker when he realised which event Harry was talking about. Thinking back on the day in Madam Malkin's store, he realised he had made an ass of himself.

“Mr Potter, are you telling us that the Sorting Hat actually conversed with you during the sorting?” Narcissa's face told of her disbelief as she asked this.

“Yes, it did. It spoke with me a couple times since then as well. I thought it spoke with everyone.”

“No my boy, aside from the start of term speech it gives, the Sorting Hat is a rather silent being,” Dumbledore replied while stroking his beard in thought.

“Headmaster, if you would, I ask a moment of your time in private,” Narcissa asked, indicating towards the large entryway outside of the Great Hall.

“Certainly Mrs. Malfoy...”

Narcissa cut him off with a wave of her hand. “Black, if you would. I wish nothing to do with that man any longer.”

Harry looked up from the table, his eyes glowing a light blue. “Names are powerful, Narcissa Black. Is it truly your wish to be known as such? Speak true, for what is set in motion shall not be undone, nor undertaken lightly.”

Quickly snapping out of her surprised stupor, Narcissa replied that she indeed wanted to sever her ties with Lucius Malfoy, and those of her son as well.

“So mote it be. From this day forth Draco Black, formerly known as Draco Malfoy, and Narcissa Black, formerly known as Narcissa Malfoy, shall have no ties to Lucius Malfoy. The guardians of magic have spoken!”

With Harry's last word, a brilliant flash of light flew from his body racing away. Everywhere it went it exchanged Black for Malfoy in the familial lines. As the pulse of light was fading, Harry slumped forward on the table, sleeping lightly.

“Headmaster, I believe you have understated the boy's condition. Is this a contagious affliction? Are we at risk?”

“No, he is most certainly not contagious. This is a very specific event. I'm afraid without his permission, though, I shall not share any further information with you.”

“Very well. I take it the Guardians of Magic have some significance that I am missing? Are they somehow related to the Olde Ways or the Ministry?” Narcissa bowed her head in a slight nod when Dumbledore refused her question for more information on Harry, thinking it most fair of him; she would hardly want him to be giving out information about Draco, whether they were now allies or not.

“No, the Guardians are the last remnants of the ones who gifted the lower races with magic. Their name has been lost to history, but they are referred to, always, as the Old Ones."