Harry Potter and the Tri-Fold Prophecy - 6. Chapter 6

Harry slowly sat back up, eyes still glowing blue with power. “You are the Headmaster of this school, are you not?” he asked of Dumbledore, though his voice had many qualities as if spoken by thousands.

“Yes, I am. May I enquire as to whom I am speaking?” The headmaster had his wand in hand, surprising Draco and his mother, as they couldn’t believe how quickly the old man had moved.

“I am Trell Pow'Treer, last Guardian of the Tsir'Sal. As you are the headmaster, I demand Hiir'Vhol for my host body.” While speaking, Harry swayed as if unsteady, before bracing himself back up.

“I'm sorry, but I haven't the foggiest what Hiir'Vhol is, Guardian.” The headmaster appeared concerned for Harry's health, as he had recently collapsed and was now holding himself up. He lowered his wand though, as he knew a Guardian would never harm a child.

Grimacing, the Guardian replied “Hiir'Vhol is the demanding of retribution against those that have abused a child. Where Hiir'Chas is simply a term of imprisonment, Hiir'Vhol is the term stating that their Charsol would be given to the child to return them to the strength and abilities they should have. This host was abused ever since the death of his parents by those he was given to for protection. They will pay, and he will be restored to full health.”

“I'm sorry, but I must say I am still confused. What is a Charsol, and how will it heal Harry? If it will help him, I will help you in any way I can.”

“Charsol is that which flows through all beings. I am unsure how to explain it other than the energy of life. The energy from the abusers will fuel the fires of creation, and I shall wield that to heal the one you call Harry.”

Dumbledore paused a moment before asking, “Will this process drain all the energy, and thus kill them? Even with how much he was abused, I don't see Harry ever wanting to kill them.”

“As much as they deserve death, no. It will, however, leave their life shorter than it could otherwise be. How much shorter is impossible to say, but there has never been a case where it would take more than 15 years from a single person.”

“I think that we can agree that should be acceptable. Will there also be a prison term included?”

“If the Order still existed, they would be taken by the Wyk Watchers of the Void to Sasl Ar Vuul, The Prison Without Time. As it is, we have no way to enforce this. We must leave it up to you to deal with.”

“What must we do for this to take place? Is there any ritual?” Dumbledore's interest was certainly piqued, and his urgent tone showed that he wanted to help heal Harry as soon as possible.

“This child is exceedingly weak for a Host. His body is having issues containing my power, and thus the loss of memories and consciousness. As such, I will need a channel through whom I can direct my power. As much as you are willing, the best choice, other than one of my own people, would be a member of the Alfkain. They would be the most suited to channelling this amount of power.”

“Alfkain, I know I have heard that word somewhere...” Narcissa was looking at Harry with a renewed interest, looking as if she would like nothing more than to study him.

“Really? It is not a term I am familiar with,” stated Dumbledore, frowning in thought.

“This is troubling. If you do not know of the Alfkain, it is possible they have moved beyond this world, as we did eons ago. It will be a great deal harder to perform this ritual now.” The eyes of the ancient Guardian inhabiting Harry grew distant for a moment, before clearing. “Yes,difficult, but not impossible. If you have a Rune Master, and a Master of Arithmancy, I will need to speak to them so that we can make the adjustments needed. So you know in advance and can explain to Harry, his physical appearance will certainly change. He will find himself taller, and likely more defined and less skinny. He will also find that his mental acuity will increase, however that is a less precise area of study, as the brain is incredibly complicated. The last change is that he will be able to remember when I am here, and will be able to block me if he so chooses. However, no Host has ever wanted to, for we offer many benefits, and come into play only for their protection, or in times of great stress. We also teach them many things that are lost to the Wizarding community.”

“I must go now, however I have one last piece of advice. This enmity between Draco Black and Harry must cease. The turmoil within Harry is calmed by the blond one's presence for some unknown reason, and so I suggest they stay in close proximity. Now that the Blood Compulsions and other spells are no longer valid, that should be easier to achieve. I will talk with you when next I can, for now I must let Harry rest.” With that last farewell, he stood and flicked his fingers at the chair, turning it into a large bed. Climbing in, he released his hold on Harry, and he instantly fell into a deep sleep.

“What did he mean by Blood Compulsions, Headmaster?” Narcissa was watching her son's reactions, and they were not precisely what she had come to expect from him. In fact, she recalled, his actions the past month were much more that of her family, and less of Lucius.

“I would have to examine him to be certain, but it seems that Lucius had placed some Familial ties on young Draco to control his actions.”

“Please, Professor, would you?” Draco asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Very well. You may feel a slight tingling, but try not to move while the spell does its work.” Dumbledore made several complicated wand movements in the air, drawing out golden sigils. He slowly circled Draco, forming several strange shapes around him as he went. “This is an ancient diagnostic charm I was taught when I was much younger by a very old mage travelling from the icy city of Orenth, in the northern reaches of Canada. It reveals a great many things that the standard spells miss.” Dumbledore finished with the sigils, and, with a flick of his wand, sent them into Draco. “Oh my, yes. It appears there were a great many compulsion charms and mood-controlling charms placed on Draco, for a great many years. The first one, in fact, was applied moments after birth. There was also something that this spell could not trace, which is worrying. I do know that it was exceedingly Dark, but that is all.”

“How would I not know about these spells? Draco never left my sight during the first week after his birth.” Narcissa, totally affronted by Lucius' actions, was even more certain she had chosen the proper path when she returned herself to the name of Black. “Is it possible I have been similarly spelled? Would you perform that spell on me so that I am certain?”

“Certainly. It will take a while longer, as you have had many more years to experience magic than young Draco here. A reading such as this will grow more and more difficult the older and more powerful a being is. I would hesitate to cast it at one such as myself, and completely refuse to cast it at Harry while the Guardian is present. Such knowledge would be likely to drive the caster insane.”

“I see. What information, exactly, does it relay to you?” Narcissa asked, cautious now that she understood more.

“Every spell cast at you, whether they hit or not. Every spell that has ever affected you, such as portkeys, wards, apparating, the floo system, and any number of other things. But, I do not get details. For instance, I would know you encountered wards entering Hogwarts, but I would not get specifics unless they were designed to harm you or subvert your control. May I proceed?” Dumbledore gestured his wand towards her. She nodded her head in acquiescence, and he started the process for the spell once more. “Well, unlike in Draco, there are no compulsions or mood spells. However, there are a large number of memory modifications, some going back nearly 25 years.”

“I see. So, that man thought he would control our lives? He will learn that a Black is not under the control of anyone.” Narcissa took a chance to glance at her son, who appeared very distracted. In fact, he seemed to be in a whole world of his own. “Draco, are you feeling alright? You have been rather quiet throughout these proceedings.”

Appearing startled, he looked up at his mother. “Oh, I'm fine mother, I've just been thinking. Harry survived the Killing Curse at birth, and is the host to a Guardian. I've only ever heard myths about the Guardians, but the legends state that they could shape the world to their whims. Ancient Cultures worshiped some of them as gods, for Merlin’s Sake! He has all this power, why is it truly showing up now?” He glanced down at his feet, and then mumbled “he even decided what house he got put in based on me, but it wasn't even me. How are we supposed to put all that aside like the Guardian said?”

“Draco, you are not to blame for any of this. That monster of a man will get his just desserts.” Narcissa's eyes held a dangerous glint, a fiery passion that promised retribution. “As to the Guardian's words, I am not fully certain. What I do know, however, is that every rumour, every fable and fairy tale, every memory of the Old Ones say that when a Guardian gives advice, only a fool ignores it. Now that we know the stories of the Old Ones are true, we can also research to help Mr. Potter deal with this.”

“Yes, that is quite correct. The Guardian Council rarely interferes so directly in the lives of mortal beings. When they do, the wisest course is to follow them. As to your offer of research, I would be most appreciative, as I’m sure Harry will be. If you wish, I can ask the house elves to bring your library to an unused room for now? In any case, Narcissa, I believe you wanted to ask me something in private?” Dumbledore asked, motioning towards the hallway outside the Great Hall.

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“Minister, you need to read this report,” Senior Undersecretary Dolores Umbridge placed a small folder full of papers on the Minister for Magic's desk, with the official Ministry seal on the folder.

“What is it, Dolores?”

“That Potter child needs to be dealt with. It seems he ignores the law, just as he ignores all the rules in Hogwarts. Just this past week he used his magic to assault his muggle uncle, and nearly tore their house apart. The muggle authorities even got involved, something about an earthquake and a Size-Mode-Graph, whatever that is. The uncle is currently in the hospital, and the block around his house shows extensive damage. If the muggles hadn’t termed this an earthquake, our Obliviators would have been tied up for months!”

“Seems we now have cause to pursue that arrogant child. Perfect. Arrange a hearing for him. He will be brought under Ministry control or he will be thrown in prison.” Minister Fudge looked all too happy, carefully plotting how he would gain even more prestige and power.

“Right away, Minister,” Dolores replied, voice laced with malevolent glee. She turned to leave, just as an aide came rushing in.

“Minister,” the aide puffed, clearly out of breath. Taking several deep gulps of air, he started to explain himself. “My apologies for the abrupt entrance, Sir. It has come to our attention in Record Keeping that Draco and Narcissa Black, formerly known as Malfoy, have had their names magically changed. The exact method is unknown, but what we do know is that it is fully legally binding. Not only that, but anywhere their former names were written now read Draco Black, or Narcissa Black, depending on the situation. What's more, we can no longer refer to them as Malfoys. It appears that Magic has been manipulated by powers far beyond any I can imagine.”

The minister appeared thoughtful for a moment, and then came to a decision. “Dolores, contact the Department of Mysteries. Perhaps they know something we do not. Put the trial for Potter on hold, this takes precedence. We need to know what caused this. Someone or something with that much power could be an enormous threat, especially if they are associated with that family. We also need to know the repercussions to current contracts with the changing of these names. They are a very politically inclined family, and hold a great deal of power.”

Dolores hurried from the room to take care of her new task, silently cursing the aide. She smiled slightly when she realized the trial was only on hold, not ended.

Back in the Minister's office, Fudge was trying to think of what else may be necessary. “I need to have all contracts involving the Malfoys and the Blacks to be brought to me. Sort them by date starting with the most current, and go back as far as you can. Get the others of your department to help.”

The aide had finally managed to compose himself, and nodded before realizing who he was dealing with. Blushing, he replied, “Yes Sir. Is there any other criterion you want them indexed by?”

“No, just by date. I have a feeling about this. Something is happening, and I intend to find out and make sure it is not a threat to the Wizarding world,” or to my position, thought Fudge.

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“... he was spotted hiding in France and Belgium. We think he has come to England now, however we lost track of him close to the Channel.” A Death Eater was on his knees, giving his report to his Dark Lord.

“Ssso. We give you a ssssimple tasssk, and you can't even finish that?” Voldemort hissed out, clearly displeased.

“My lord,” the Death Eater whimpered. “We had him in our sight the entire time. Just as the sun set, a flash obscured our vision, and then he was gone.”

“FOOLSSSSS!” Lord Voldemort whipped his wand towards the cowering Death Eater. “Crucio!” His high, cold laughter filled the room as the man writhed at his feet. Relenting, he once more hissed at the Death Eater. “Get out! Don't come back until you have the child!”

The Dark Lord stormed into his chambers, fuming about incompetent Death Eaters. His internal rant was interrupted when Bellatrix entered. “Bellatrix, isss there a reassson you come before ussss uninvited?” Voldemort asked, voice dangerously low.

Bowing low, she replied, “Yes my lord. This morning my sister returned to the family as a Black.”

“So, your sister finally divorced that worthless husband of hers. Why should we care?” His voice had by now lost some of the hissing quality it obtained when exceedingly angry, as Bella was always one of his favourite followers.

“My lord, that is not exactly what I meant. Here is a letter she wrote to me, over a year ago. It has her signature at the bottom. It now reads Narcissa Black, however when I received it, it had her former name. Also, it is now impossible to refer to her as anything other than Narcissa Black. The Malfoy name is no longer associated with her in any way.”

“Most interesting. We will have to look into this. This magic is not known to us.”

“Yes, my lord. I had thought you might want to know.”

“You have done well, dear Bella. We are always most pleased with you.” With that, Voldemort clearly dismissed her, and she left, happy that her interruption had not ended in pain.