Prophecy Child

It took a couple of hours, in which everyone just drifted around nearby, not willing to walk away while their Lord was compromised, before Tom finally stirred.

He gazed blearily around the room, taking in his faithful watchers, before his eyes landed on Harry. The boy was sitting by the wall next to Carrick, a piece of parchment in front of him and a quill held awkwardly in his fingers. Carrick had been trying to teach him to write letters, but Harry had become distracted, staring at Tom for full minute before he had woken.

Tom, of course, did not realise this. Carrick, sitting right beside the boy, had noticed. He had kept quiet, wondering what the boy was thinking about. He had been surprised when Tom woke up, same as everyone else – but Harry seemed like he’d expected it, almost.

Something to keep an eye on, perhaps.

‘How are you feeling, my Lord?’ Lucius asked quietly.

‘Like I have just suffered a bout of magical exhaustion.’ Tom said flatly, then sighed. ‘What happened – did we finish the ritual?’ he asked, a hint of urgency in his tone.

‘The ritual was completed, yes. We have not had a chance to assess Harry, but there are no indications of the ritual going awry. We all passed out afterwards, seeing as our magic was connected to yours.’ Barty informed him.

‘Harry came to find us.’ Added Carrick. ‘He led us to the ritual room to help you all.’

Harry ducked his head, cheeks burning as everyone turned to look at him. Severus expression flickered, but he held his tongue. Something was niggling at him again.

‘You have my thanks, Harry. That was very sensible and clever.’ said Tom. Harry’s cheeks burned further, and his eyes began to dart towards potential exits.

‘Yes, well done – shall we move to other matters?’ Severus interjected smoothly, catching a few eyes as he deliberately drew attention away from the boy before he could panic. No doubt the child had no idea how to handle praise, nor that much attention. Thankfully, everyone followed his lead, turning away from the boy and giving him time to calm down.

 ‘I went on a little trip today with He-Who-Has-Too-Many-Names,’ Severus began, drawing a few snorts of amusement. ‘We went to Surrey.’ Severus paused to glance at Harry, but the boy gave no reaction to his words. Likely he did not know the name of the area he had been living in. ‘We stopped out front of a particularly bland house with a rather nice garden, and the old man had me wave my wand around and ‘look for evidence of an attack.’ Obviously, there was no attack, we all know what happened.’ Severus gave a meaningful look to Carrick, and a few people nodded. He glanced at Harry again, who had gone back to trying to use the quill. Severus did not like the idea of talking about the boy right in front of him about potentially triggering topics, but needs must. He was trying to phrase things carefully enough that the child wouldn’t realise they were talking about him.

‘There was also no sign of any wards, meaning they had either been taken down, or they had fallen. The old man was sure they had not fallen, insistent that they must have been broken by Dark magic. Obviously a muggle house could not support wards without wixen present to fuel them. I initially thought someone must have been stopping by to fuel them, but it didn’t quite fit. Why had nobody noticed the state of the boy? How were they getting in and out regularly without drawing attention from muggles, or wixen who might be monitoring for magical activity in muggle areas?’ Severus paused to let his questions settle.

Judging by the looks on the faces of Lucius, Barty and the Dark Lord, they had reached the same conclusion Severus had. Carrick and Walters took a moment longer, having not witnessed the ritual, but then their eyes widened and they stared at Severus in shock and horror.

‘Someone attached protective wards to a little boy’s core?!’ gasped Walters.

‘Not just any wards – Light wards. The boy has a Dark soul, and they attached Light wards. I think they were trying to overpower his core and force it to turn Light, by making it continually focus on Light magic.’

Lucius had turned decidedly green, trying desperately to draw steadying breaths in through his nose and out through his mouth. Walters didn’t look much better.

Barty’s mouth was in a grim line, anger burning behind his eyes.

Tom was watching Carrick carefully, as Carrick looked up to meet his eyes. Pain and fear shone in his eyes as he looked at his Lord, almost begging.

‘He is here now, and the leech is gone. His core is young and has plenty of time to heal and grow. We can help him and guide him, and this will all be a story one day – a story that he will likely be too young to remember properly.’ Tom said, gentle but firm as he held Carrick’s eye.

Carrick nodded, eyes glistening with unshed tears. ‘Yes, my Lord.’ He whispered, not trusting his voice. He swallowed and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

Tom turned to Barty. ‘Barty, do you know what happened right at the start? Before the ritual began, when he entered the room?’

Barty’s face twisted through a series of emotions as Carrick and Walters looked on in confusion.

‘The boy fell to the floor when he entered the ritual room.’ Barty said briefly to the two confused men. ‘I believe the proximity to ley lines, and the magic of the room itself, caused some sort of reaction in the boy. When I picked him up to move him, he was limp and his eyes were glazed. I don’t know what happened, but I think he may have been in a very fragile state and close to dying. That is why I told you to remove the leech carefully, my Lord.’

Tom nodded, and the men contemplated Barty’s words with heavy, serious gazes.

Carrick looked down when he felt Harry touch his arm. The boy shook his head, pointed at Barty, and shook it again.

‘He’s wrong?’ Carrick asked quietly, unsure what the boy meant.

Harry’s expression turned anxious as he darted his eyes around the room, lingering on Barty.

‘I won’t be mad if you think I’m wrong, Harry. I was only guessing. It’s your body, you know better than I what happened.’ Barty said with a shrug.

Harry twisted his fingers and waved them in front of himself, then furrowed his brow when nobody reacted. He placed his hands flat on his chest and dragged them down, then took a step forward and ran his hands back up his chest, over his face and threw his hands in the air. He held his pose for a moment, looking around expectantly.

Blank faces met his searching look. He visibly wavered, then took a step back. He ran his hands down his chest, holding them by his thighs, then took a bigger step forward, looked around with a surprised expression, and ran his hands back up his body and over his head.

‘You stepped in the ritual room and… you could feel the magic fill you up?’ Walters guessed. Having children of his own had given him more than a little experience in decoding confusing explanations and gestures.

Harry gave him an emphatic nod.

‘What did it feel like?’ Severus asked curiously.

Harry’s face lit up. He raised his hands over his head, tipped his head back and breathed deeply. His arms dropped back to his sides, but he held his head tipped back and a gentle smile on his face for a long moment, before looking back towards Severus, his expression clearly asking, you understand?

Severus nodded slowly, mind clearly racing.

‘What is it, Severus?’ Tom asked quietly.

‘How did you find you way back to the ritual room after you left it?’ Severus asked, tone sharp. Lucius sucked in a sharp breath.

‘Of course,’ Lucius mumbled. ‘The room should be hidden from anyone not accompanying the Manor Lord. He shouldn’t have been able to see it by himself.’

Harry shrank back, his earlier enthusiasm gone in the face of a potentially angry adult.

‘We followed Harry back to the room – he led us there.’ Carrick said simply, shuffling his body to give Harry something of a hiding space. The boy stepped back slowly, trying to move out of Severus’ line of sight.

‘My apologies, Harry, I did not mean to frighten you. I am just very interested to know how you knew the way to get back to the ritual room after you left it?’

Harry hesitantly stepped forward a little and pointed to the ground.

‘You walked on the ground?’

Harry furrowed his brow. He pointed again, this time pointing at a couple of spots before stopping.

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

Harry’s face twisted in frustration. He crouched down and tapped the floor, then tapped another spot beside it, then another, tapping a little trail towards the door. He looked up again at Severus, a hint of irritation on his face before he carefully smoothed it away, face mostly blank again.

Severus tried not to react at that – the small child’s ability to hide his emotions so effectively. He instead closed his eyes, breathing deeply, and began to concentrate. The room was blessedly silent as he focused, everyone waiting to see what he was doing. Severus reached out with his magic, keeping it close but forcing it to look as hard as possible at the floor. There was bright light, almost blinding with how hard he was pushing his magic, arrayed around the room where the others stood. It took a Herculean amount of concentration, but finally, he thought he could see it. He slid from his seat and reached out, eyes closed and seeing through his magic, until he laid a hand on a particular spot on the floor.

‘Here?’ he asked, and he felt a rustle nearby as Harry ducked down beside him, tapping the same spot. Harry tapped another spot, and after a few seconds, Severus did too. Harry tapped again, moving slowly along a path, and Severus strained his magic.

He could see it.

Extremely faint – but he could see it!

He opened his eyes with a gasp, the strain of the magic making him slump over and rub at his eyes. He pulled a Headache Reliever from his pocket and downed it quickly before straightening up.

He stared at Tom for a long moment, before a smirk slid onto his face. ‘He will have a gift the Enemy knows not.’

Severus paused again, smirk widening.

‘Harry Potter can see magic.’