Chapter 11
Chapter 11
Snape entered Dumbledore’s office and closed the door behind him. Dumbledore looked up from the pile of parchment in front of him. “Ah Severus,” he said. “Can I offer you a brandy?”
“No thank you Headmaster,” Snape said shortly. He sat down in the chair facing Dumbledore and sighed. “The mission the Death Eaters went on was a complete failure.”
“Good,” Dumbledore said beaming at Snape. “So, our tip to the Aurors paid off?”
“No,” Snape said. “Someone interfered. A woman broke both of Yaxley’s legs and bound the remaining five Death Eaters before dropping them right in the atrium of the ministry. It caused a real stink when they found McNair with them. It will be all over tomorrow’s prophet.”
Dumbledore picked up a lemon drop. “Was Lucius there?”
Snape shook his head. “He backed out at the last moment.” He smiled slightly. “No doubt Narcissa had something to do with that.”
“Well, that is six followers Voldemort won’t be able to recruit when he returns,” Dumbledore said calmly.
“At least until he breaks them out of Azkaban,” Snape said morosely.
“Take our victories where we can,” Dumbledore said bracingly.
Snape grunted. He studied the headmaster for several moments. “May I ask you something?”
“Ask away.”
“Why didn’t you round up the order or go yourself to stop the Death Eaters. You could have taken care of them easily.”
Dumbledore leaned back in his chair. “Because I am the headmaster of a school, not an auror. If I had gone, the Greengrass family may have felt indebted to me for saving their lives. I won’t lie to you Severus. I did consider it. The Greengrass votes in the Wizengamot could advance the Light faction’s agenda a great deal. Having said that, I am no longer the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. It is no longer my job to oversee wizarding politics. The Greengrass family must come to the light because they believe it is the right thing to do, not out of gratitude for me saving their lives.”
“Would it really matter? Whoever the new chief is, if they were of the light faction, they would welcome the votes no matter where they came from.”
“True, but I would always know why the Greengrass family voted the way they did. I retired from the Wizengamot for a reason. I didn’t like what constantly playing politics was doing to me. On the whole, I am far happier. Sometimes I have to remind myself that the right thing is not always the easy thing.”
Snape rose. “I can’t say I would’ve done the same if I’d been in your position. I would like to get back to my quarters; it’s getting late. Goodnight, Headmaster.”
Dumbledore watched Snape leave his office. He was a good lad, but he still held on to so much anger and resentment. If he didn’t let go of that anger, it would consume him someday. Those were problems for another day. For tonight, he had a troll to move. He grimaced. The things a Headmaster had to do when running a school.
**ROE**
Harry stared at the blond haired green-eyed woman in front of him. She looked similar to his Mum, but more confident and focused. It was as if a piece of her that had been left and forgotten had finally been put back where it belonged. “Mum?” he said finally. “Is that you?”
Flitwick fingered his wand. He’d been careful to stay between the children and the strange woman the whole way to Lily’s office. “Who are you?” he said now. “What have you done with Lily?”
The woman tilted her head slightly. “You have the warrior spirit of your ancestors tempered with compassion and love for the children you teach.”
Her voice was higher pitched and softer than Lily’s had been, but Harry still recognized it as his mothers. He leaned forward. “Mum? What happened to you? Why do you look so different?”
The woman smiled at him, her eyes shining with tenderness. “It is a long story. I am Niamh, daughter of Manannán Mac Lir.” She quickly explained about the spell that had been placed on her. When she was done, she waited to see what Harry had to say.
“This is going to take some getting used to,” Harry said. “How will you teach class looking like that? Are you going to use a glamour?”
Niamh shook her head. “No, it is time that we stop hiding.”
Harry looked into the woman’s green eyes. “Tell me something only my Mum would know.”
“The Dursleys,” Niamh said promptly. “I could also tell you what condition we found you in when I and Charlos came to rescue you, but neither you nor I like to think about that time.”
Harry winced. “Yeah, it’s Mum, but did you have to pick that?”
“Sorry, but I was thinking that I need to pay them a visit.”
Daphne grinned suddenly. “So, the fae are returning to the magical world?”
“The fae?” Flitwick interrupted. “I always knew they were real, but I never expected to see one or to hear about their return to the world of man.”
Niamh nodded. “I am the first. Arawn and I have discussed things. We feel that we can use the breaking of the spell as a test run to see how the fae will be received.”
Flitwick shifted in his chair. “I will help you in any way I can, but I fear that you will face some opposition to your return. You may even face more problems than the Muggle-born do. True or not, even Muggles have heard stories about the fae.”
“We shall see,” Niamh said. “I must say you are taking this far better than I expected.”
“This isn’t the strangest thing I’ve seen,” Flitwick said.
Daphne nodded. “Harry is my friend. You are his mother. If he trusts you, I trust you.”
Harry looked around the office. “You will be talking to Dumbledore in the morning?”
“Very early,” Niamh said. “It’s late and I’d rather spend tonight with you.”
“Can I come to the meeting?”
“Of course,” Niamh said. She turned to Flitwick. “As his head of house, I’d like you to be there to.”
“I’d be delighted,” Flitwick said.
Niamh turned back to Daphne. “Would you like to stay with us in my quarters or go back to your dorm. It’s your choice. If you want to go back to your dorm, I can write you a note.”
“I think I’d rather stay with you and Harry. I’d like to know as much as possible about what’s going on.”
Niamh stood. “Come along then. Since the entire school will know what is going on by tomorrow, I see no reason you shouldn’t come to the meeting to.” She turned to Flitwick. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
**ROE**
Harry stared up at the ceiling of the room he slept in when he stayed in his mother’s quarters. There was no doubt in his mind that Niamh was his mother, but her new appearance was going to take some getting used to.
Niamh had been brutally honest with him and told him all about the spell that had been cast on her. He’d been horrified when she’d told him how Arawn had cut her head off. Even after she had reassured him that everything was fine and that it had been necessary, he was still a little miffed at his father. As if the thought had summoned him, Arawn appeared beside his bed.
“Ah good, you are awake,” he said softly.
Harry sat up. “Okay Dad, what happened?”
“The spell that bound her was weakening anyway. We thought it best to break it in a controlled environment rather than allowing it to break on its own. Think of it like burning land ahead of a wildfire to deprive it of fuel. If the spell had broken on its own, Niamh may have returned confused, angry, and lashing out at everyone and everything around her.”
“So, is Niamh my Mum? She seems different.”
“She is, but she’s also more than she used to be. She gained memories and experiences she didn’t have access to before. It should make history class more interesting.”
“Yeah,” Harry said drily. “We were just learning about Niamh and now I learn that my mother is Niamh the ancient fae who trained wizards before the founders were even born.”
Arawn reached out and hesitantly touched Harry’s hair. “I know you’ll need some time, but just give her a chance alright?”
Harry nodded. “Of course, I will.”
“Good,” Arawn said. “Try and get some sleep, you’ve got a long day tomorrow.”
Harry opened his mouth to say something, but Arawn was already gone. “You really suck at good-bye’s,” he muttered through a yawn.
**ROE**
Dumbledore gazed at Niamh. The day had just begun, and he already had a headache. He took a deep breath to calm himself. When he spoke, his voice held a note of frustration.
“Let me get this straight. You,” he pointed at Niamh, “Are really Lily. You’ve been a fae this whole time under some sort of spell, and now the spell is broken. You want to continue teaching at Hogwarts and you want to reveal to the school what you are. Have I missed anything?”
“Harry is fae to and was conceived using a fertility spell containing the blood of Arawn.”
“Of course,” Dumbledore said rubbing his forehead. “Sometimes I think Abeforth had it right running a bar all these years.” He stared hard at Niamh. “Anything else?”
“No.”
“And what exactly am I supposed to tell the governors?”
“You’re the Headmaster,” Niamh said. “I will tell you this though. If I am forced to leave Hogwarts, I’m taking Harry with me.”
Dumbledore winced. He may not want to manipulate Harry, but he needed him to be at Hogwarts so he could keep an eye on him. If he was the child foretold to defeat Voldemort, he would need all the training he could get. Trust a fae to play dirty when negotiating.
“I’ll see what I can do,” Dumbledore said. “I’ll let you know what they decide.” He glanced at Harry. “On a more personal matter, can we expect any trouble from the ministry about Harry’s parentage? We don’t need them trying to arrest you or Harry for line theft.”
“James thought of that,” Niamh said. “He made sure Harry was adopted into the Potter family. It helps that Arawn is distantly related to the Potters. Regardless, Harry has been keyed into the vaults and all assets and properties are mine and his.”
“I see,” Dumbledore said. “That is one matter dealt with anyway. I’ll inform the ministry. No doubt it will be in the evening Prophet.”
“Thank you, Headmaster,” Niamh said. “I’ll be seeing you.”
Dumbledore watched as Harry, Daphne, Niamh, and Flitwick left the room. The other three hadn’t said a single word during the entire conversation. It didn’t bother him that Lily/Niamh was a fae. His issue was with Arawn, not fae in general. No, what bothered him was that he’d had no idea. He’d not had any inkling that a fae had been at Hogwarts for Seven years without being noticed and that was before she took the job as the history professor. With a sigh, he reached for the bottle of brandy he kept in his desk drawer. He was gonna need a stiff drink before dealing with the governors, let alone the minister for magic.
**ROE**
As they left Dumbledore’s office, Harry turned to his mother. “That went better than I expected.”
Niamh shrugged. “What could he really say? He wants you at Hogwarts and he’s going to do whatever he has to do to keep you here.”
“Why?”
Niamh arched an eyebrow. “Why what?”
“Why does he want me here?”
Niamh looked away. “It’s a moot point now.”
Harry waited, but Niamh didn’t say anymore.
“What is a moot point now?”
Niamh glanced at him again. “You’re not gonna let this go, are you? Fine, to make a long story extremely short, there was a prophecy that Dumbledore told us about. In a nutshell, it said that a child born at the end of July would vanquish Voldemort. It was either you or Neville, but both of you reflected a killing curse the night that Voldemort was defeated, so Dumbledore doesn’t know which one is the supposed vanquisher of Voldemort.”
“But Voldemort wasn’t at the Longbottom’s,” Flitwick said.
“No, but his Death Eaters were. If the prophecy is real, technically losing his servants could be considered as a defeat.”
“Bellatrix is in Azkaban and her husband and brother-in-law are dead.”
“Still,” Niamh said. “I’m not taking any chances.”
“So, I have to kill Voldemort?” Harry said eyes wide.
“No,” Niamh said waving her hand dismissively. “Seers never see the entire picture and these type of prophecies are really vague. I think you already defeated Voldemort that night he attacked us. If he is still alive, he is the ministry’s problem, not yours.”
“He did kill James,” Flitwick said quietly.
Niamh scowled at him. “And I’m sure James would prefer Harry be alive rather than seeking revenge. When he is an adult, I can’t stop him from hunting Voldemort, but I’m not putting him in danger before he can defend himself. Voldemort killed hundreds if not thousands of people, it is not the job of one person to take care of him.”
“Right,” Daphne said. “Why should the ministry rely on one person to fix the mess they allowed to happen?”
Flitwick smiled at her. “Well said. Now then, let’s get to breakfast before all the bacon is gone.”
**ROE**
“Where were you two?” Padma asked as they sat down at the Ravenclaw table. She turned to Daphne. “You weren’t in the dorms last night.”
“I stayed with Harry and his mother last night.”
“Really,” Padma said smiling slightly. “You had a sleepover with a boy? Did you kiss?”
Daphne blushed and Harry choked on his eggs. “It wasn’t that kind of sleepover,” she spluttered. “Harry got some news last night and I wanted to be close.”
Padma’s expression changed from playful to concerned. “Harry?” she asked turning to him. “Is everything okay?”
“It’s fine,” Harry hurried to assure her. “Nothing is wrong. I just had some family matters I had to deal with.”
Before Padma could ask any questions, Dumbledore rose to his feet. The hall quieted. Even the sounds of cutlery on plates stopped.
“I have an announcement to make this morning,” he began. He looked around the hall, appearing to be unsure how to continue.
Niamh stood up beside him. “Hello,” she said calmly. “You know me as Lily Evans Potter and I am her, but I recently got memories restored to me. I am also known as Niamh, one of the fae, and daughter of Manannán Mac Lir.”
Everyone stared at her. Harry knew they were seeing the similarities to Lily Evans, but they were also seeing the differences. A seventh year student stood and pointed a finger at Niamh.
“The fae are gone,” he said. “How do we know you aren’t mental.”
“I swear on my power everything I have told you is the truth,” Niamh said.
A flash of light filled the hall. When it faded, the student stepped forward. “Headmaster?” he said. “You believe her?”
“I do,” Dumbledore said calmly. “You have heard the rumors about my sister. I shall now confirm what everyone has been whispering about ever since she returned. She did spend time in Elphame.”
The students began murmuring amongst themselves. Dumbledore held up a hand for silence. “I realize that this is a huge shock for all of you. Classes shall be cancelled for the day to give you a chance to come to terms with this.”
He sat down and turned to Niamh and began talking to her as if nothing had happened.
Padma turned to Harry. “This is what you found out last night?”
Harry nodded. “I knew my mother was a fae, but I didn’t know she was a thousand years old.”
“So, are you fae as well?”
Harry paused. If his mother was gonna tell people who she was, he might as well do the same. “I’m a pureblooded fae,” he said slowly. “My birth was… complicated.”
“Complicated?” Padma asked.
“It’s a long story,” Harry said.
“We have all day,” Padma pointed out.
Harry took a sip of pumpkin juice and began to talk.
**ROE**
Voldemort listened to everything that had been said. This would explain a lot about how he’d been defeated. How could he defend himself from magic he’d never encountered before. He’d intended to wait until he had all the information he needed, but this changed things.
If the girl was a fae and not just some insane witch, Dumbledore could ask her to add protections to the stone. He knew how to bypass all the other protections, but Dumbledore’s was proving difficult. He’d hoped to wait until the end of the year, but that was no longer an option. The fae complicated things. If she as who she said, he needed a way to keep her from interfering.
At Voldemort’s urging, Quirrell turned his head so that he could see Harry Potter. Voldemort had not forgotten who had defeated him. How could he when he was still suffering without a body over a decade later. Yes, capturing the boy would keep the fae off his back. Who knows, maybe the boy would be able to get passed Dumbledore’s defenses.
How was he going to go about it though? He couldn’t just walk up and stun him and carry him to where Dumbledore had hidden the stone. His eyes widened as he remembered something. Of course, it should work. Weakened as he was, he was still alive. At his command, Quirrell rose from his chair and hurried out of the hall. Once he was in his office, with the door locked. Voldemort instructed him to raise the strongest privacy wards he could. When that was done, Quirrell unwrapped the turban from round his head and laid it on the desk.
As the turban was removed, Voldemort felt the cool air on his face. When he got his body back, he was never wearing a mask again. Taking a deep breath, Voldemort spoke to the empty room.
“Kreacher.”
There was a loud crack and the old house elf appeared. He looked around confusedly before spotting Quirrell standing with his back to him. Kreacher’s eyes widened as he saw the handsome face sticking out of Quirrell’s head.
“The Dark Lord calls Kreacher?” he croaked. “Kreacher thought you were dead.”
“No Kreacher,” Voldemort said kindly. “I am weakened, but I am not dead. Are you still loyal to me?”
Kreacher nodded. “Master Regulus told Kreacher to obey the dark lord and Kreacher will do so.”
Voldemort grinned, his blue eyes glowing red. “Good,” he said. “Please sit down, we have much to discuss.”
**ROE**
Harry awoke in darkness. His head ached fiercely, and Nausea caused his stomach to roll unpleasantly. Bands of ice circled his wrists and ankles. Where was he? How had he gotten here? He tried to move and heard the clink of metal. Looking down, he saw black iron chains wrapped around his wrists and ankles.
“Cold iron,” he croaked.
“That’s right Mr. Potter,” Professor Quirrell said stepping out of the shadows. “After your mother told everyone what she was I did some research. Cold iron can weaken the fae. That is fascinating.”
“Professor,” Harry said. “What are you doing here?”
Quirrell turned away from him, showing Harry the back of his head. Harry gasped as he saw the man’s face sticking out of the back of his head. The man’s blue eyes glowed red. When he spoke, his voice was casual as if they were talking over a cup of tea.
“Hello Harry, long time no see.”
“Hello face,” Harry said. “You are?”
“Ah, I guess you wouldn’t remember me. After all, you were a baby when we last met.”
“Voldemort,” Harry breathed.
“How have you been?” Voldemort asked as Quirrell approached him.
Harry’s heart was pounding. It took all the courage he had to keep his voice steady. “I’ve been good, but you’re not looking so well.”
“I have lost a bit of weight,” Voldemort said, “but I am getting stronger. One faithful servant can do so much. Enough of that, do you know where we are?”
Harry looked around the room. Black flames covered the doorway. The rest of the walls were bare except for a large mirror leaning against the back wall.
“It’s a room,” Harry said.
“Yes,” Voldemort said slowly, “but there is something special about this room.”
“It has no furniture?” Harry suggested.
“This room has the Philosophers stone. Do you know what that is?”
“The stone created by Nicholas Flamell?”
“The very same,” Voldemort said. “Now then, the stone is in the mirror, but I can’t get it out.”
Harry could feel the iron burning his skin. As he moved, he felt skin peeling off his wrists and ankles.
“Master,” Quirrell said. “I can see the stone, but I can’t reach it.”
“Hmm,” Voldemort said calmly. “Let’s see,” he looked at Harry. “You are a fae, can you get the stone for me?”
“Even if I could, why would I do that? What’s in it for me?”
Voldemort’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t die,” he said menacingly.
Harry felt his stomach drop. He had to think of something fast. “If I die, you still don’t get the stone.”
“True,” Voldemort said smiling slightly, “but if you are unwilling to help me, perhaps your mother would be more agreeable.”
Harry clinched his fists. He swallowed thickly. “Let me see the mirror,” he growled.
Quirrell clicked his fingers. The chains vanished. Harry hissed in pain as Quirrell grabbed his raw and bloody wrist. He dragged Harry to the mirror. “What do you see?”
Harry stared at his reflection. For a moment, his reflection looked pale and scared. Then, it smiled at him, reached into his pocket, and drew out a blood red stone. He held up the stone and dropped it back into his pocket. As he did so, Harry felt something heavy drop into his own pocket.
“Well,” Voldemort and Quirrell said at the same time.
Harry shrugged. “It looks like a normal mirror to me.”
“Get out of the way,” Quirrell snapped shoving him aside. Harry cried out as he fell to the floor.
“That is the least you deserve for lying to me,” Voldemort said. Quirrell, get the stone.”
As Quirrell leaned over him, Harry pushed himself up and shoved Quirrell as hard as he could.
Quirrell let out a yell as he flew backward and landed on his back. Voldemort let out a cry of pain as the back of Quirrell’s head struck the ground.
“You idiot,” Voldemort shrieked, his voice muffled by the floor. “Kill the brat.”
Harry threw out a hand, drawing on as much power as he could. A storm of multi-colored light flooded the room.
It was as if all the bad luck in the world had been trapped in the room and it had just been released at Quirrell. First, his robes turned into snakes, then both of his legs broke with loud snaps, and finally, large boils appeared all over his body. Quirrell screamed in agony as the snakes sank their fangs into his flesh, popping several of the boils. Blood and puss flew everywhere.
“Master,” Quirrell moaned pitifully. “Please, help me.”
“Just kill him,” Voldemort snarled.
Harry panicked and stumbled back. He tripped over his feet and nearly fell. “No,” he groaned. “I have to do something.”
Quirrell lunged, tackling him to the ground. Pinning Harry with his knees, he reached into his pocket and seized the stone.
“I’ve got it master,” he crowed triumphantly. “The stone is ours.”
“Well done fool,” Voldemort said. “Now hurry up, we need to get out of here.”
“Oh no you don’t,” Harry snarled. He pointed his hand at Quirrell’s hand holding the stone.
There was a burst of blue flame and the hand holding the stone exploded. Quirrell screamed as chunks of stone and bloody fingers flew through the air. Golden light filled the room. Harry screamed as the light sank into him.
Quirrell leapt back, clutching the stump where his hand had been. “Master,” he shrieked as blood squirted between his fingers. “The stone is gone.”
“I can see that you idiot,” Voldemort snapped. “Just kill him.”
Rising to his feet, Harry gestured at Quirrell. Quirrell froze as his body turned to glass. As if in slow motion, the glass body fell and shattered on the floor.
Harry watched as the fragments settled. He had just killed someone. What kind of monster was he? Was he as bad as Voldemort?
As if the thought had summoned him, silvery mist rose out of the glass and formed the shade of a middle-aged man. The man bowed to Harry.
“Well done,” he said lips twitching. “I can honestly say as long as you are around, I won’t be bored.”
The adrenaline was fading, and Harry was feeling lightheaded. “I’ll stop you.”
Voldemort chuckled. “You may actually have a chance at doing so, but do remember that I was not in control of the body. Also remember that I am weakened right now and you lack control. If you hope to stop me, you’re gonna have to do better than that.” He shrugged. “You have time though. Until we meet again, train well, Harry Potter.”
As Harry watched Voldemort fly through the ceiling, his legs gave out. The last thing he saw as consciousness faded was his mother stepping through the black flames and rushing towards him.