Chapter 9: Holy Power
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Where am I? Harry asked no one in particular; the darkness around him was slowly illuminated by a figure slowly forming in front of him out of blue lights, gradually forming into a woman, her hair as red as blood, reaching to her waist, her left eye closed, a strange thin dark stream line went from the corner of her left eye, down to her cheek.
Her right eye opened, and her purple eye looked back at Harry. The young wizard noticed something strange about her; her clothes were old as if someone from a long time ago.
"Greetings, my name is Venefecia." She was a beautiful young woman with crimson hair, the color of flames, and reaching to her waist. Venefecia has high sharp cheekbones and eyes which appear rich purple. She is slender with a full bosom.
Venefecia was wearing all white: white woolen breeches tucked into high boots of bleached white leather, a white bearskin cloak pinned at the shoulder with a carved triangle that had a circle in the middle, white tunic with bone fastenings.
Harry figured she was a witch, but he couldn't see a wand anywhere.
"My name is Harry Potter!" He introduced himself, but he still didn't know where he was. Am I dead? He asked himself; he didn't feel dead. He could still feel everything.
"You're not dead, young wizard," She spoke, her purple eye glittering gold as she spoke.
Harry wondered how she had known what he asked himself...
"Is Legilimency, young wizard, the ability to read someone's mind, like how Dumbledore tried to read yours," she spoke with a low, calm tone.
Harry froze in his place hearing her words; he felt a warmth spread from his chest to his eyes, and unconsciously, his eyes turned gold, glittering like stars amongst the darkness.
"D-Dumbledore! He read my Mind?!!" Harry exclaimed, fearing that the professor had learned about Holy Magic through him. He slapped his knees in frustration. Breath in, and Breath out, he told himself, trying to calm himself.
"No. He can't anymore," she spoke tenderly, her voice sounding melodic. Her words managed to calm Harry in a strange way; perhaps his secret wasn't out in the open yet, until he remembered what she said.
"Anymore?" Harry questioned her.
"He read your mind before, Young Wizard, the barrier that a Holy Wizard usually have in their minds from birth was unfortunately closed by a dark soul. Thankfully the soul was burned, allowing your Holy Magic to spread in your body," she explained with the same melodic voice.
Harry felt his anger rising by the second; he remembered when he got bitten by the Basilisk, he remembered the pain he felt, his body suddenly getting stronger. After that day, Harry had not once felt pain in his forehead again until an hour ago when he talked with Dumbledore.
He Tried to Read My MIND! Harry thought in anger, his eyes glittering like gold; he felt anger and a feeling of... betrayal. It wasn't his business to read my mind; who does he think he is? Harry thought in rage, closing his hands, his nails digging into his palms.
After a minute of silence in the darkness, the young Wizard remembered her explanation of why his magic was sealed.
"You said a dark soul was burned. What do you mean?" Harry questioned, looking up at her again; the woman gave him a sad smile.
"The night your parents died..." she explained how when Voldemort had used the killing curse on him, a part of his soul was attached to Harry, making him what she called a Horcruxes.
After hearing everything, Harry felt overwhelmed; he found out that one of the few wizards he trusted the most had been reading his mind since the first year. Harry hated to admit it, but he felt betrayed. He wasn't sure if he still could trust him anymore. Whatever the reason, Harry felt betrayed.
Why would he do that? Does he not trusts me?! Harry thought, grinding his teeth; unknown to him, his magic was spreading in his physical body, a golden symbol of a triangle formed on his chest that disappeared when he calmed down.
After what felt like hours of silence, Harry spoke up. "How are you here? Where are we?" Harry questioned, pointing at the darkness around them.
"This is your mind, and I'm the previous user of Holy Magic. My role is to guide you and show your true strength. My full name is Venefecia Potter," she explained, sounding melodic and beautiful.
"Guide me?"
"Yes, as you know, the knowledge of Holy Magic is quite limited; in our history, there were only four users; the previous user before me passed down his knowledge to me, and so did the previous one." She said with a nod of her head.
"What knowledge is that?" Harry questioned; he couldn't help but get a little excited to hear what he could learn from her.
She seemed to notice his excitement, and a beautiful smile spread on her face. "Your first lesson is how to do Wandless Holy Magic," she explained, extending her hand, and opening it. As she did that, her eye turned gold, and a ball of red flame formed on top of her palm.
Harry was astonished but couldn't help but feel the heat; it was scorching, and it felt like his clothes and skin would catch on fire.
"Your wand is not made for Holy Magic; that's why your wand gets warm whenever you use Holy Magic; it can't handle it. Sooner or later, your wand will break," she explained; Harry grabbed his wand from his pocket; he had felt the warmth his hand felt whenever he used it. Looking closer, he could see a tiny crack at the bottom of his wand.
Looking back at the woman. "There's no wand that can handle Holy Magic?"
"There's one, but I'm afraid that's off your limits," she spoke with a neutral tone, her face frowning as if she remembered something unpleasant.
Harry didn't know which wand she spoke of but didn't question her. Instead, he wanted to learn.
"Now, shall we begin," she said, extending her hand towards Harry; his eyes shifted from her hand to her eyes, and reluctantly, he grasped her soft hand. The moment she squeezed his hand, he felt his whole body burning up...
Harry opened his eyes slowly; looking around, he noticed he was lying on the floor in the common room. His eyes could see nothing but the types of furniture around the room. It was empty; it was the middle of the night. Standing up, he noticed the picture of the woman had disappeared from the wall; his right hand felt warm yet looked normal, as if nothing had happened.
Harry knew he had been there for hours, yet now awake, it felt as if only a few minutes had passed. Stretching out, he eventually walked back to his bed, falling asleep, dreaming of a falling Star.
When the three of them made their way to the Great Hall the following morning for breakfast, the first thing they saw was Draco Malfoy, entertaining a group of Slytherin with a hilarious story. As they passed, Malfoy made a ridiculous impression of a swooning fit, and a roar of laughter followed.
"Ignore them, Harry," Hermione said. She looked back at Malfoy. "Just ignore him; he's not worth it," she said, urging him forward.
"Hey, Potter!" Shrieked a Third Year Slytherin girl. He had the face of a pug but somehow managed not to be anywhere near as adorable, "Potter! The Dementors are coming, Potter! Wooooooo!"
They all plopped down into the seats next to the Twin Weasleys, "I swear, all the Third Year Slytherin are either stupid or childish," Harry said, paying them no more mind.
"Don't worry about them, mate. They're just jealous," Ron encouraged him with a tap on Harry's shoulder.
"Jealous! For what?" Hermione prompted; Ron simply smiled smugly.
"They're jealous because Harry could stand on his own against a Dementor. They know if roles were reserved, they would have shit themselves, and the entire school would laugh at them," Ron replied with the same smug smile; Harry smiled upon hearing that. The thought made him chuckle.
Fred passed them all some sheets of paper, "Third Year timetables, McGonagall asked us to give them to you four."
"What's up with you, Harry?" George asked.
"Malfoy," Ron said, glaring over there.
George looked up to see Malfoy pretending to faint again in a dramatized manner, "That little git," he replied calmly, "he wasn't so cocky last night when the Dementors were down at our end of the train."
"Nearly wet himself, he did," Fred said with a contemptuous glance over at the despicable Slytherin.
"I wasn't too happy myself, honestly," George said, looking back at Malfoy a second longer, "Horrible things those Dementors are."
"Sort of freezes your insides, don't they?" Fred asked them.
"You didn't pass out, though, did you?" Harry asked in a low, bitter voice.
"Forget it, Harry," George said bracingly. "Dad had to go out to Azkaban once, remember, Fred? And he said it was the worst place he'd ever been. He came back all weak and shaking... They suck the happiness right out of a place... most of the prisoners go mad there."
"Anyway, we'll see how Malfoy looks after our First Quidditch match," Fred said with a smirk on his face, "Gryffindor versus Slytherin, the first game of the season, remember?"
"I can't wait to see them get stomped into the ground. The Quidditch Cup is ours this year; I can feel it," Harry said, enthusiastic about it.
Hermione, sitting beside Harry, was examining her new timetables, "Oh, good, I'm starting some new subjects today," she said happily.
Ron snatched her timetable from across the table from them when they were busy taking bites of their food, "Hermione..."
"Give it back, Ronald!" Hermione said, trying to reach over and get it back.
"They've messed up your timetable. Look-" he pointed out an inconsistency, "-they've got you down for about... Ten subjects a day. There isn't enough time."
"I'll manage. I've fixed it all with Professor McGonagall," Hermione said in between grunts, still trying to get it back.
"But look," Ron still held them out of reach and laughed as he did, "see this morning? Nine o'clock, Divination. And underneath, Nine o'clock, Muggle Studies. And-" Ron leaned into the paper closer to confirm he wasn't seeing things, "- look, underneath that, Arithmancy, nine o'clock. I mean, I know you are good, but no one's that good. How're you supposed to be in three classes at once?"
"Don't be silly," Hermione said shortly, still trying to get her timetables.
Ron suddenly had his hands forced open, and the paper flew towards Hermione. She grabbed it and sat down once again. "Of course, I won't be in three classes at once," Harry said. "That's impossible, Ron."
"Well then-"
"Pass the marmalade," Hermione said.
"But-"
"Ron, what's it to you if my schedules are a bit full?" Hermione snapped at him, "I told you, I've got it fixed with McGonagall."
"I don't have anything against it, but you will get exhausted," Ron continued, not understanding why Hermione wasn't telling them the whole truth.
"Hermione, are you sure about this?" Harry interrupted the conversation before it could get more heated. The bushy-haired girl nodded at her "friend" words.
"Very well, but let us know if you need anything," Harry said with a tone that indicated that he wanted the discussion to end; looking at Ron, the latter looked dejected but still nodded along.
Just then, Hagrid entered the Great Hall. He was wearing his long moleskin overcoat and was absent-mindedly swinging a dead polecat from one enormous hand, "All right'?" He asked eagerly, pausing on his way to the staff table, "Yer in my firs' ever lesson! Right after lunch! Bin up since five gettin' everythin' ready... hope it's OK... me, a teacher... hones'ly..." He grinned broadly at them and headed off to the staff table, still swinging the polecat.
"Wonder what he's been getting ready?" Ron asked a note of anxiety in his voice.
"Knowing Hagrid, probably something dangerous," Harry said, not really surprised.
After another twenty minutes, the Great Hall started to empty as people went to their first lessons. Ron looked at his timetable, "We'd better get going... look, Divination is in the North Tower, at the Top. It'll take us ten minutes to get there."
They finished their breakfast hastily, said goodbye to the Twins, and walked back through the Hall. As they passed the Slytherin table, Malfoy did another fainting fit, and roars of laughter followed Harry out of the Great Hall. The journey through the Castle to the North Tower was a long one, but not a bad one, at least not to Harry. Two years, however, was not enough to teach them everything about Hogwarts, and they had never been to the North Tower before.
"There's - got - to - be - a - short - cut!" Ron said, panting horribly as they climbed their seventh long staircase and emerged on an unfamiliar landing. Harry actually knew the way, having caught a glimpse of Hogwarts' layout, minus any secret passages, and knew what way to go, but every time he tried to speak, someone else interrupted him.
"There actually-"
"I think it's this way," Hermione said, pointing down an empty corridor.
"I know-
"Can't be," Ron said, still panting, "That's south... look... you can see the lake... out of the window."
After a ridiculous, stupid quest from a knight, they found the classroom. Harry climbed up after her, and he emerged into the strangest-looking classroom he had ever seen.
"Welcome, my children." Professor Trelawney appeared from nowhere. "In this room, you shall explore the noble art of Divination. In this room...you shall discover the sight. I am Professor Trelawney, and together, we shall cast ourselves into the future. This term, we'll be focusing on Tasseomancy, the art of reading tea leaves. So please, take the cup of the person sitting opposite of you."
Everyone grabbed a cup that was around them and partnered up. Since he was sitting next to Hermione, she partnered up with him.
"What do you see?" Trelawney said. "The truth lies buried like a sentence deep within a book, waiting to be read. But first, you must broaden your minds. First, you must look beyond!"
"What a load of bullshit," Harry said to Hermione, which got Ron's attention as he looked at them.
"You, boy." Professor Trelawney said to Neville, who looked with curiosity. "Is your grandmother quite well?"
"I-I think so?" Neville said, stuttering a little.
"I wouldn't be so sure about that." She said to Neville, whose face paled slightly. "Look at your cups! Tell me what you see!"
Before they could both look into it, Trelawney came over to Ron. "What do you see?" She asked the boy.
"Oh, yeah, uh...." Ron said as he looked into Harry's cup. "Well, Harry's got a wonky cross. There are trials and suffering. And that there could be the sun, and that's happiness. So....you're going to suffer, but.....feel happy about it?"
What?
Trelawney did not look pleased with all with that description. "Give me the cup." She instructed as she took it from Ron. "Oh, my dear boy. My dear...you have the Grim!"
"The Grin?" Harry asked. "What's the Grin."
"Not the Grin idiot," Hermione said. "The Grim."
"Taking the form of a giant spectral dog. It's among the darkest omens in our world. It's an omen....of death!" Professor Trelawney said aloud.
Lovely. When will I have a normal school year? Harry thought with a shake of his head.
Weekly Power Status
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