Chapter 46
The Half-Blood Prince
“Oh you magnificent bird…”
Dumbledore sat crouched on one knee next to Fawkes’ perch on the far side of the office. He glanced up at his longtime companion, a look of newfound reverence and awe on his aged face. Fawkes had his head tilted towards him and watched him with silently, a calm, almost wise look in his jet-black eyes.
“Potter, would you be so kind as to tell us what is going on?” asked Phineas Nigellus suddenly, his voice dripping with impatience and sarcasm. “Albus has done nothing but coo incessantly at that bird since bursting in here.”
Harry didn’t even know where to begin. He was still trying to wrap his own mind around all the new information. Luckily Dumbledore chose that moment to rise and address the portraits, beckoning for Fawkes to land on his arm as he did so.
“My esteemed colleagues,” he said grandly, turning to face the wall of portraits. “Allow me to introduce you”” here he held up Fawkes for all to see, “”to the Half-Blood Prince.”
A moment of baffled silence. Then all at once the wall erupted in pure pandemonium.
“Preposterous!”
“You’re JESTING, Albus, there is no way…”
“…the phoenix animagus transfiguration is impossible! There has been significant experimentation done and not once…”
Dumbledore simply gave a broad, satisfied smile at the wall of babbling portraits, then, without addressing any of their protestations, turned his back and made for the door.
“Shall we, Harry?”
The portraits wailed in protest as Harry fell in place behind Dumbledore and the two of them left the office, once again leaving the past headmasters and headmistresses to speculate on what had happened.
“Simply remarkable, don’t you think, Harry?” said the headmaster as they went, Fawkes perched on his shoulder.
“But, sir”how?” asked Harry, still somewhat skeptical. “I mean, I thought he was your, er…pet.”
He said the last part in a whisper, unsure how much someone could understand when they were in bird-form.
“Phoenixes are too independent and intelligent to be pets, Harry. One doesn’t choose to keep a phoenix “ it would be more accurate to say that the phoenix chooses you. Like I mentioned earlier, when I first began teaching at Hogwarts I heard rumors from other staff members about a phoenix residing in the mountains to the north. Knowing how rare the birds were I decided to investigate. After several fruitless searches and many years later, I eventually found Fawkes here perched on an old, burned ash tree. I always had the feeling he allowed himself to be found. Now I know it for certain.”
Harry looked sideways at Fawkes again, still not entirely convinced he really was Wulfric Gryffindor. Dumbledore continued.
“When I eventually became headmaster and moved into my current office, several of the past heads of the school mentioned having seen or even being acquainted with a phoenix themselves during their respective tenures at Hogwarts. Yet we marked it down as an interesting coincidence “ I don’t think many of us thought it was the same one. And I know for certain that none of us imagined he was actually the long lost son of Godric Gryffindor!” He finished with a highly amused laugh.
They made their way back through the secret passageway and down into the Chamber of Secrets. As they walked through the gloomy, dimly lit hall Harry thought back to the only other time he had seen Fawkes in this particular location. It had been the end of his second year, of course, during the confrontation with Tom Riddle and the basilisk. Fawkes had saved his life by taking out the eyes of the hideous serpent, not to mention providing him with the only weapon he had had in the fight “ Godric Gryffindor’s sword.
Harry suddenly stopped in his tracks. Godric Gryffindor’s sword. Suddenly that whole thing made sense. He resumed walking.
They headed towards the back of the Chamber to the small room where the portrait of Rowena Ravenclaw was hanging. Her face lit up considerably when she saw Fawkes (now Wulfric Gryffindor), the most open display of emotion Harry had seen from her so far.
“Oh my dear, dear, friend! It really is you,” she said tenderly, compassion and concern softening her normally impassive features. “How long has it been since I put you in that shell! I wonder that you will even know yourself anymore…”
Fawkes looked up at her and chirped softly, whether in recognition or by coincidence Harry couldn’t tell. That brought up a bigger question in Harry’s mind “ if this really was the Half-Blood Prince, how much did he know about what was going on? Had he been watching them the entire time, completely aware of the situation with Voldemort? And if so, why hadn’t he helped them discover who he was sooner? It definitely would have saved a lot of trouble.
“M…Mistress,” Harry asked hesitantly after some time, not wanting to disturb the reunion. Ravenclaw turned her attention to him.
“Does he…understand what is going on? I mean, will he know who we are when he changes back?”
Ravenclaw looked back at Fawkes and shook her head.
“It is doubtful, pupil. In order for the transformation to work, it had to be complete. Meaning the higher functions of human intellect would have been suspended “ language, complex reasoning, memories of his human life “ all would have been abandoned out of necessity. I presume he will remember very little of the time spent in this body “ perhaps nothing more than places, images, the environment. You will need to brief him on the current situation and possibly even remind him who he is.
“Though,” she added as an afterthought, “if Wulfric has retained any of his human personality, it shouldn’t take too long. He will be more than willing to assist you in your time of need. Now go. I daresay he has waited long enough! Take him to the Place of the Covenant and invoke the releasing spell I recorded in my diaries. This will return him to his proper form and enable him to initiate the terms of the covenant.”
Dumbledore and Harry exchanged an uneasy look.
“I’m sorry, my lady. The releasing spell”?”
Ravenclaw fixed the headmaster with the same look McGonagall reserved for students who hadn’t completed their homework.
“Yes, steward. The four-part releasing spell I gave at the end of each diary. When used together they have the power to return Wulfric to his original form.”
Harry’s mind raced. Revealing spells? All he remembered from the end of each diary was being shown the hiding place of the next diary, along with the phrase that would make the diary appear. Nothing about a releasing spell…
All at once his mind jolted in realization. Suddenly it made sense “ the phrases were the spell. Not only did they reveal the diaries, but when put together they became the means of reversing the magical transformation of the Half-Blood Prince. One more safeguard in preventing him from falling into the wrong hands, for only someone who had read all four diaries would be able to release him. Harry was amazed by the brilliance of it all.
Apparently Dumbledore had pieced it together as well, for he nodded his head and smiled in realization.
“Yes of course, my lady, I see it now. Quite clever. Yet we have a problem”the last diary was desecrated by the spoiler, the man you mentioned earlier. Because of this we were not able to read the last line of the enchantment. If you would be so kind”?”
Ravenclaw looked at him shrewdly, as though in half a mind to make the headmaster figure it out for himself. Fortunately she relented.
“Of course, steward. The last line is ‘Procer Filius en Gryffindor.’. See that you forget it not.”
Harry repeated the line to himself a few times so he could remember it.
“Now go! Journey to the Place of the Covenant and restore the son of Godric Gryffindor to his rightful form.”
“We shall. Thank you, my lady,” said Dumbledore with a bow.
“Yes, thank you,” said Harry, giving a bow of his own.
“Oh, and steward “ one final request,” she said just as they were on their way out.
“Certainly, Mistress. What is it?”
“When you have completed your task, please come retrieve me. I must say it has been dreadfully boring being kept here for the past eight-hundred years.”
Dumbledore smiled. “I have a place of honor waiting for you already, my lady.”
“Fare thee well, then. And may Providence smile upon you.”
They made their way back through the Chamber, along the dark, damp tunnel, and back up the entrance pipe. Dumbledore turned to Harry once they exited Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, an excited look on his face.
“Harry, do you remember the phrases Mistress Ravenclaw used in the first three diaries? The ones that revealed each successive diary? I fear I have forgotten them.”
Harry had been thinking about this already. He was having a difficult time himself.
“I know the third one was ‘Arcana Fateorus’. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that one,” he said bitterly, recalling the hours of frustration in the Astronomy Tower room.
“Ah, yes “ good. Any others?”
Harry thought as hard as he could, but nothing came to mind. His mind was slow and groggy and it was hard to think.
“Er…no, sir. The second one had the word Pronerius in it, but I can’t remember more than that. Should we go get the diaries?”
Dumbledore was silent and thoughtful for a moment. He removed the curious watch from his robes and examined it.
“I think,” he said as he replaced the watch back into his robe pocket, “that you should go back to your dormitory and get some sleep. It is late “ past three o’clock, actually. I will consult the previous diaries and obtain the rest of our revealing spell, but I think you ought to go to bed.
Harry opened his mouth to protest, but yawned instead. He really was tired. He did his best to hide it.
“It’s ok, sir. I’m fine. I want to help you.”
Dumbledore shook his head with a smile. “I know you do. But I must insist. Tomorrow is bound to be just as exciting today was and you will be grateful for having gotten some rest while you are able. Now please “ go get some sleep.”
Seeing Harry’s reluctance he added, “I promise, I will not make a move without you. There are several things to prepare before we set off for Godric’s Hollow tomorrow and I think you’d best take the opportunity to catch up on some rest. I shall see you in the morning.”
Reluctantly Harry agreed (not really having any other option) and began to make his way to the Gryffindor dormitories.
“Oh, and Harry?”
“Yes?”
“We’d better keep this a secret for now. I wouldn’t want something of this magnitude spreading through the school just yet. Will you keep this a secret for me?”
“Yes, sir,” said Harry with a nod as he parted from the headmaster.
He walked back towards the dormitories in silence, lost in thought. He soon realized just how tired he actually was and that Dumbledore had been right in sending him back. He reached his dormitory without incident and climbed sleepily into bed, not bothering to change his clothes. Despite his weariness, however, it was nearly impossible to go to sleep “ too much had happened. The day had gone from just another DA meeting to recovering the fourth and final diary, witnessing the funeral of Godric Gryffindor, finding the secret prison that housed the portrait form of Rowena Ravenclaw, and discovering that Dumbledore’s pet bird was actually the long lost son of Godric Gryffindor. Needless to say, he couldn’t remember having a more eventful day during his time at Hogwarts.
Eventually he was able to fall asleep, though it was fitful and not at all refreshing. He awoke some time later to find a voice calling his name.
“Harry…Harry, wake up…”
A cool, soft hand was brushing the hair back from his forehead. He opened his eyes to find three blurry figures hovering over him. Taking his glasses from the stand next to the bed and putting them on, he was met with the curious, slightly concerned faces of Ginny, Hermione, and Ron.
“Finally “ I didn’t think we’d ever get you awake. Where’d you go last night?” asked Ginny with a hint scolding in her voice.
It took him a moment to recall everything that had happened at first. As it came back, however, he jumped hurriedly out of bed (fortunately he hadn’t bothered to take his clothes off the night before) and rushed to get his things. The sun was already well into the sky, suggesting it was late morning. The headmaster was waiting for him.
“Dumbledore…he came and got me during the DA meeting and we went to Hogsmeade,” he explained distractedly as he searched around for his wand. “And then””
He paused, remembering the headmaster’s request that he not tell anyone what had happened just yet.
“I…er, can’t tell you. Dumbledore told me not to. Sorry.”
Hermione and Ginny’s brows furrowed slightly at the statement, though Ron still looked happy about something.
“Oh, come now!” said Ginny.
“Well…is it good or bad?” asked Hermione tentatively, her curiosity obviously waging a battle with her insistence on being perfectly obedient to authority.
“Good, it’s definitely good. I promise, I’ll tell you as soon as he lets me.” Harry cast a sideways glance at Ron, who had an eager look on his face that seemed to have nothing to do with Harry’s secret. “What’s with you?” he asked.
“Harry, did you hear? About Malfoy?” Ron asked excitedly. Harry shook his head.
“He got expelled!”
“What?” he asked in astonishment.
“Yeah. He was the spy!” Ron said giddily. “Grendelhall followed him last night after you left. Apparently he was trying to track you and Dumbledore. They kicked him out this morning, though Dumbledore wanted it to be kept quiet. The prat, I would’ve liked to see him go,” he added with a dark scowl on his face. “But still “ can you believe it? I’ve been dreaming about this ever since first year!”
The news came as a big surprise to Harry, though for some reason he didn’t share the same excitement in hearing it as Ron.
“That’s…wow. Look, I’ve got to go. Dumbledore’s expecting me.”
Ron nodded, still smiling, and Ginny and Hermione bid him farewell.
“I’ll see you soon and fill you in on everything, ok?” he said as he left, feeling slightly guilty. He knew what it was like to be kept in the dark because Dumbledore wished it.
He was just about to descend the staircase when Ginny caught his hand.
“Harry, wait,” she pulled him in a bit closer and whispered.
“Is it the Half-Blood Prince? Did you find him?” She fixed him with a shrewd, penetrating look.
For a brief moment Harry tried to think up a lie, but realized it was no use. The look Ginny was giving him was positively Mrs. Weasley-esque. She knew him too well and would definitely pick up on any lie he tried to make up. Realizing he had no hope of denying it, he simply grinned. It was all the answer she needed.
“Ahhh!” she gasped in excitement and placed her hands over her open mouth. Harry nodded enthusiastically.
“Don’t tell anyone, all right? I promised him I’d keep it a secret.”
“Of course. Go. Get out of here!”
With that he gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and hurried out the door, dodging around students on his way to the headmaster’s office. As he went he reflected on Ron’s news about Malfoy.
Expelled? Sure Malfoy was a bully, and spoiled, and perhaps the most arrogant person Harry had ever met, but he couldn’t help but feel bad for him. His experience with Nott had shown him a whole other perspective on what life was like for the unfortunate sons of Death Eaters, and he realized that Malfoy had probably missed his last chance to turn things around. Rather than finding a vindictive pleasure in seeing his rival expelled, he felt only pity instead.
Soon he arrived at the headmaster’s office and found Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, Lupin, Professor Grendelhall, and Kingsley Shacklebolt in discussion. The portraits weren’t even bothering to feign sleep and watched with excited faces. Apparently Dumbledore had filled them in.
“…Kirke hasn’t reported anything new on the troll front. Dennison’s on Death Eater monitoring right now, he’ll alert us if anything happens,” Harry overheard Shacklebolt say to the headmaster.
“Good, good,” he nodded. Professor McGonagall nudged him and motioned towards Harry.
“Ah, excellent. Harry is here. I was just about to send Dobby after you. We are all set then,” he turned back to the small group.
“Remus and Kingsley, if you will be so kind to accompany Harry and myself; I highly doubt we will run into any trouble, but I’d rather be prepared just in case.”
The two nodded.
“Grishelda, I do not believe there are any more spies in the school, but, just to be safe…”
“No problem, Albus,” Grendelhall nodded, winking at Harry.
“Minerva, as I said, I don’t expect to be gone for long, but I will ask you to take care of the school while I am absent.”
“Of course, Albus.”
“Well then, let us be off,” said the headmaster excitedly. He turned towards the corner of the office and held out his arm.
“Fawkes,” he said softly, a new reverence in his voice. With a small chirrup the creature that bore the soul of Wulfric Gryffindor flew across the room and landed on the headmaster’s arm, appearing as normal a phoenix as ever.
Harry, Dumbledore, Lupin, and Shacklebolt exited the office and made their way outside the castle, sticking to a small, secret passage (another one Harry hadn’t known existed) that led out of its side near the Quidditch Pitch. Apparently the headmaster wanted to avoid being seen by the students, a wise idea considering the individuals in the group and the mission they were on. They made their way off the Hogwarts grounds and past the entry gate without incident. Dumbledore then led them into a small clearing in some trees.
“Excellent. Harry, we will be traveling to Godric’s Hollow by apparation. Have you ever done pair-apparation before?”
“Er, pair-apparation, sir?” Harry asked, not having known there was such a thing. The headmaster smiled.
“Apparently not. Just follow Remus’s instructions. You’ll be fine. Well then, we’ll see you there.”
With a quick crack the headmaster disappeared, somehow taking Fawkes with him. He was immediately followed by Shacklebolt. Remus removed his wand and turned to Harry.
“It’s really quite simple, Harry. Nothing to worry about. No, no “ you can put that away,” he said, seeing Harry pull his wand out as well. “The burden is primarily on the caster when you pair-apparate. Now, all you need to do is lock your arms with mine, like so, and close your eyes. There. It will be a most peculiar sensation the first time you do it, but you’ll be fine. Now, if you’re ready””
Before he had a chance to reply, Harry suddenly felt himself double over as though his entire body had been folded in half. Then there was a loud crack and all at once it felt like his body had exploded into a million tiny pieces. Everything went dark for a moment and he had the distinct feeling of having left his body altogether. It was an immensely uncomfortable feeling, more like getting put through an enormous grinder than flying, but suddenly he found himself back together and standing in a familiar grove of trees.
He immediately doubled over and clutched his knees, the shock of the whole experience having caught him completely off guard.
“I apologize for not warning you about that, Harry,” said Lupin, bending over with him and placing a conciliatory hand on his back. “It’s actually much worse if you’re told what’s coming, believe me.”
“Quite a ride, isn’t it, Harry?” said Kingsley in his deep voice with a small chuckle.
After taking a moment to allow him to regain his composure, the four of them set off into the woods and down the narrow path that led to Godric’s Hollow. Harry followed the headmaster and Kingsley, while Lupin trailed behind him. While each of them had their wands out, it was clear from their casual, relaxed manner that none of them expected an attack.
It was a clear, beautiful spring day “ just a little before noon by Harry’s reckoning “ and the air had the fresh, clean smell that came just after it rains. The trees had just put on their new foliage for the year and the woods were quite beautiful, no doubt made even more so by the feeling of excitement and anticipation that was continually welling inside Harry. They were on their way to bring back the Half-Blood Prince! They had solved a nearly thousand year-old mystery and had a chance of holding back Voldemort for some time. The thought made him take another look at Fawkes. It was still hard to believe that he was the long lost son of Godric Gryffindor, that he held the key to winning the war.
Yet, somehow it was oddly consistent with the wizarding world Harry knew to find the miraculous and otherworldly in something plain and commonplace. In fact, wasn’t that a fitting allegory of the wizarding world itself?
They continued their walk through the woods of Godric’s Hollow, Dumbledore humming merrily as they went. Harry tried to recognize the ancient village of Elm’s Hollow in their surroundings as they went, but found it difficult. Too much had changed. Dumbledore was right “ landscapes changed considerably over centuries.
They soon came to a part of town that Harry did recognize, however: the long, gradual slope that led through the trees and to a large opening at the top where Gryffindor’s family tree and the place Ravenclaw had referred to as the ‘Place of Covenant’ were located. When they emerged from the trees and into the opening it was like walking into a dream.
Enormous grey mountains towered over them, their sheer granite cliffs forming a large enclosure that had previously housed a number of sturdy, stone buildings. Although only ruins remained, the memory in the diary lingered on. He could see the people of Elm’s Hollow gathered in the area just in front of them, mourning their deceased leader. Just to his left was the place where the young Wulfric Gryffindor had sat under the white canopy next to his Muggle mother, a look of sorrowful resignation in his eyes. Just in front of him, perhaps thirty feet away, was where the marble tomb of Godric Gryffindor had rested, strewn with flowers and tokens of love and gratitude.
And there, just beyond the furthest of the ruins and set in a small alcove in the very bosom of the mountains, was a small, circular clearing.
The Place of Covenant.
The memory of Fidellius Paciscorium flashed through his mind. Wulfric Gryffindor kneeling on the side of an altar, the goblin and centaur leaders kneeling on the other side. The pulsating globe of bluish light. The blinding flash at the end. He could see it all, just beyond the largest of the ruins and the empty archway that led to Gryffindor’s family tree, where he had first noticed Wulfric Gryffindor’s name. He was walking in the footsteps of Rowena Ravenclaw herself.
Dumbledore strode purposefully towards the Place of Covenant, the Half-Blood Prince in his altered form resting patiently on his shoulder. Harry’s heart was racing furiously.
They entered the clearing. While it was thick with overgrown grass and other vegetation, it wasn’t hard to place where the altar had rested all those centuries ago “ directly in the middle. Directing his eyes to the spot, Harry was at first alarmed to find nothing there. But then the headmaster, making his way through the knee-high grass and causing it to flatten with an inaudible spell, leaned over, made a motion as though he were brushing something off, and smiled.
Only one word came out of his mouth.
“Incredible.”
Harry and the others hurried to join him. They each bent over to get a better look at the altar, Harry gasping as he did so.
It was considerably lower than he remembered in the diary “ owing, no doubt, to centuries of shifting landscape, but other than that remained in the exact state as when he had seen it last. On one side was the indentation of a large, burly fist. Next to it was the strange, three-fingered handprint of a goblin. And just across from them “ the familiar indentation of a human hand.
Being this close he could actually see the indentation of a ring the centaur Darius had been wearing and the cracks in the goblin’s hand etched into the stone.
“Unbelievable,” said Harry in awe. He and the headmaster exchanged an amazed look.
“Albus, what is this?” asked Kingsley.
“This is where the pact of fidelity was made,” Dumbledore explained, his voice soft with awe. “Each left their mark and swore by their blood to come to Gryffindor’s aid when he required it. This is the receptacle, the physical form of that covenant. Fidellius Paciscorium.”
Turning from the altar and moving to a small, waist high bolder to the south (Harry recognized it as one that had helped form a circle around the area a thousand years earlier), Dumbledore slowly, reverently, placed Fawkes on top of it and stepped back. The creature regarded him for a moment with its dark, impenetrable eyes, and for a brief moment Harry thought he caught the glimpse of a deeper, ancient intelligence within.
“The time has come,” said the headmaster solemnly. Harry stepped into place slightly behind and to his side, next to Lupin and Shacklebolt. They each watched anxiously, no one saying a word.
Dumbledore withdrew his wand. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then exhaled. He opened them back up and raised his wand.
“Umbra Exsistio…”
As he said the first line Fawkes’ feathers seemed to glow with a faint, red light. The creature jerked slightly, as though agitated.
“En Promptu Pronerius…”
The fiery red light grew brighter. Fawkes emitted a loud cry and began flapping his wings, his long neck craned skyward. He wasn’t able to lift off, but remained hovering in place.
“Arcana Fateorus…”
Another cry and the red light surrounding the phoenix reached an unbelievable intensity “ a blinding, violent red blaze like a miniature sun pulsating just yards away, causing Harry and the others to look away. Dumbledore, however, remained firm, and with a cry of his own finished the last line of the spell.
“Procer Filius en Gryffindor!”
A flash of brilliant, blinding red light. A final, piercing phoenix cry, clear and heart-wrenchingly beautiful. A burst of flame so intense they all jumped backwards.
Then silence.
Harry slowly looked up. A smoldering circle of ash appeared in the place where Fawkes had been. A thick cloud of smoke rose from the ground, preventing them from seeing anything. They watched in silence, each completely awestruck by what had just taken place. After a brief wait the smoke lessened slightly and shifted in a sudden breeze of wind. Harry briefly saw a huddled something within, though the smoke quickly obscured it. Then it happened.
A sound came from within the smoke, faint at first but slowly growing louder. It was a strange sound “ a sound that Harry heard everyday but was distinctly out of place in this particular setting.
It was laughter.
Harry exchanged a surprised glance with Lupin. The laughter was astonished and intermittent “ the laughter of someone who suddenly finds himself released from a prison and can’t quite believe it yet. It grew steadily louder. Soon the smoke cleared away and the figure of a man became visible, kneeling on one knee as though he were too weary to stand yet examining his hands fervently, amazedly, repeatedly clenching and unclenching his fingers.
Then, all at once, Wulfric Gryffindor flung his head backwards, threw his arms in the air, and burst out in a victorious, feral peal of laughter.
After this amazing display he collapsed to the ground on his back, the physical exertion apparently being too much. Alarmed, Harry and the others rushed to his side.
Completely unmindful of them, the Half-Blood Prince lay on his back examining his arms and hands in ecstatic wonderment, as though he had never seen those appendages before. He continued to laugh the same joyful, victorious laugh, though it was more subdued than before. They each looked at each other, baffled.
Finally he looked up and, completely nonplussed by the sight of four strangers peering curiously over him, addressed them.
“Might I inquire of you good gentlemen as to how long I have been in my avarian prison?”
They glanced at each other, each too amazed to speak. Finally Dumbledore stepped forward.
“My lord, it ha””
Wulfric Gryffindor held up a hand.
“No”on reflection, I think I should rather not know,” he said with a wry smile, looking around at the ruins that had once been his home. Dumbledore chuckled slightly.
“I can understand that, sir.”
Suddenly the humor and smile disappeared from Wulfric Gryffindor’s face, replaced with a look of solemnity. He reached out towards Dumbledore.
“Please, friend”give me your hand,”
Eyebrows raised slightly, Dumbledore stepped forward and offered his hand to the son of Godric Gryffindor. Thinking he was going to use it to pull himself up, Harry was surprised when Wulfric sat up, bowed his head to it, then put it to his lips.
“I shall forever be in your debt. My endless gratitude to you for restoring me from my lost condition,” he said with genuine thankfulness in his eyes. He then looked around at the others and added, “The same to you all.”
“It is our privilege, my lord. Please, allow me”” the headmaster began, bending over to help him up. But Wulfric Gryffindor held up his hand to stop him again, his brow furrowed.
“One moment “ I must ask that we have no more of this ‘lord’ business, my friend. Here in Godric’s Hollow”” he paused for a moment and looked around, eyes squinted slightly. “”I presume it is upon the soil of Godric’s Hollow that I am so strewn about?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Splendid. As I was saying then, here in Godric’s Hollow we do not refer to anyone as ‘Lord’ or ‘Majesty’ or any such pompous nonsense, even if that venerable town appears to have fallen into a state of ruin. My name is Wulfric, and I should be glad to be called such.”
Dumbledore smiled and gave a slight bow. “My apologies, Wulfric. I merely wanted to offer my assistance in helping you to your feet.”
“I should be thankful for it,” Wulfric replied merrily, then slowly stood with the headmaster’s assistance.
Wulfric Gryffindor looked much like the man Harry had seen in the final diary, but only if that man had been faded and worn like an old cloak left out in the weather for a long period of time. His voice had a strange, thick accent to it that made it slightly hard to understand at first and his entire being seemed to be permeated with age. His once healthy skin was grey and mottled and hung loosely from a frame that had previously been quite muscular. His mane of hair was unkempt and a good deal paler than it had been before, almost completely white. He was naked and a number of rib bones could be seen protruding through the flesh of his torso. Despite all this, however, he moved with a regal, loping grace, quite like the animal that his name was most commonly associated with.
What caught Harry’s attention more than anything else, however, were the two markings on his chest. He recognized them immediately.
A centaur’s fist. A goblin’s handprint.
The markings of Fidellius Paciscorium.
Dumbledore waved his wand and a set of red wizard robes appeared, which Shacklebolt and Lupin helped Wulfric Gryffindor put on. When this was accomplished
“Wulfric, allow us to introduce ourselves. This is Remus Lupin, a friend and previous Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at the school””
Lupin bowed slightly, a fascinated look on his face. Wulfric Gryffindor nodded.
“A pleasure, sir.”
“This is Kingsley Shacklebolt, Auror for the Ministry of Magic and protector against Dark Wizards.
“Undoubtedly an honor,” said Wulfric Gryffindor to him.
“This is Harry Potter, a pupil at Hogwarts who has been instrumental in discovering your condition and the means of accomplishing your release.”
Gryffindor turned his attention to Harry. He had piercing blue eyes that burned with an intensity and energy quite unlike anything Harry had seen before. While his gaze was overpowering and intimidating, there was a friendliness and affability to it that was striking.
“My ceaseless gratitude to you, friend,” he said. He studied Harry slightly longer than the others, as though finding something about him particularly interesting.
“And I am Albus Dumbledore, current headmaster of Hogwarts.”
Gryffindor’s gaze turned from Harry to the headmaster (something for which Harry was grateful). He nodded suddenly as though recalling a distant memory.
“Yes, you I know, steward, for I believe we have been friends for some time.”
Dumbledore’s eyebrows rose in surprise. Apparently Gryffindor could remember some things from his time as a phoenix.
“If I may ask, Wulfric, how much of the time spent in your alternate form do you recall?”
Gryffindor sat down on the charred boulder behind him and rubbed his temple with the palm of his hand.
“In truth, not much,” he answered at length, his head turned slightly downwards and a far-off look in his eyes. “I feel as though I have woken from a long slumber. An immensely long slumber. I recall images, pictures, feelings, but that is all.”
“Are you aware of situation we are in at the moment, of the impending war?”
Wulfric Gryffindor thought longer, then shook his head.
“I am not. Though I recall witnessing countless conversations and meetings while in your care, I am afraid the human tongue held no meaning for me. My altered intellect was quite capable of comprehending it. Yet the castle, the school grounds “ I can see them all as clearly in my mind as though I were standing there this moment.”
“What of your thoughts while in the bird form? Were you aware of your past, of your true self?” asked Lupin curiously.
Gryffindor thought a while longer, then shook his head again.
“It is hard to say. I can recall thinking nothing but the most primal and urgent occupations of nature. Warmth. Sustenance. Survival. Whether this was by Rowena’s design or simply a boon of Providence, I cannot tell. But a fortunate event, as I think I rather should have gone mad after so long had I my wits about me.”
“Fascinating,” replied the headmaster. “Then I shall attempt to explain the events leading up to your discovery and our current situation as completely as possible. That is, of course, if you feel well enough?”
“Of course. Worry not on my behalf,” replied the Half-Blood Prince immediately.
“Very well. I suppose I should start with the stolen diary…”
Dumbledore went on to explain everything that had happened, covering each crucial point but keeping it as short as possible. He started with Ravenclaw’s foiled plan to keep the diaries out of the wrong hands. From there he went on to Harry’s discovery of the Parsletongue locks put in place by the descendant of Slytherin, which of course necessitated a brief explanation into how Harry had received the gift of Parsletongue in the first place. Here he introduced Voldemort and related a short history of his and Harry’s background, leading all the way up to the current war with the Dark Lord. Wulfric Gryffindor remained mostly quiet during the headmaster’s explanation, only speaking up to ask clarification on a certain detail or to ask a relevant question. The expression on his face became grimmer and grimmer as he listened, and soon his eyes showed the same fiery determination Harry had seen in the final diary. Along with this determination, however, there was an unmistakable excitement and relish, as though he were somehow anticipating an encounter with Dark forces.
Dumbledore finished. Gryffindor nodded to himself, uttered something under his breath, then all at once arose from the boulder and grinned.
“Come then! Let us not waste another minute, after the centuries that have past. Your efforts have not been in vain.”
“Then you will help us, son of Gryffindor?” Dumbledore asked hopefully.
“Of course, steward!” boomed Gryffindor, as though the question were absolutely preposterous. “Was this not the very purpose for which I was preserved? Was this not the intent of noble Ravenclaw’s plan? For I hold a power I’ll daresay your Dark Wizard hasn’t bargained on and one that will disappoint him greatly. Now come, I am ready to fulfill my destiny.”
The confident, bold manner in which he spoke was so heartening, so invigorating after the months and months of worry and fear that Harry and the others couldn’t help but cheer out loud.
“We shall need the altar cleared,” said Gryffindor, walking towards the center of the clearing. “And the focus stones “ these must be visible and in their proper positions. See to it while I prepare the incantation, will you?”
Eagerly Harry, Shacklebolt, Lupin, and the headmaster set out to do as they were bidden. By focus stones Harry soon saw that Gryffindor had been referring to the standing stones that had been erected along the perimeter of the clearing in the fourth diary, many of which had fallen over and were hidden by layers of undergrowth. They went about raising these up and clearing out the area, using simple levitation charms to do the trick.
“Unbelievable. Simply unbelievable,” said Shacklebolt in his deep voice as they worked.
“The son of Godric Gryffindor…” murmured Lupin, looking back over his shoulder at Wulfric, clearly still amazed.
Dumbledore laughed, his wizened old face looking younger than Harry had ever seen it. “Harry my boy, you have really outdone yourself,” he said with a clap on Harry’s shoulder. Harry grinned.
There had been many exhilarating moments in Harry’s life since becoming a wizard, moments he knew he would remember every detail about forever: Hagrid first telling him he was a wizard; the first time he ever saw Hogwarts; winning the Quidditch Cup in his third year; the first time he kissed Ginny. As the four of them stood there, encircled about by the ancient cliffs of Godric’s Hollow and accompanied by the son of Godric Gryffindor himself, Harry knew that this was one of those moments.
“Come, just one more stone to raise and we shall then be treated to some simply marvelous magic,” said Dumbledore cheerfully. They walked over to the last stone, Lupin and Shacklebolt also clapping Harry on the back as they went. They had just come up next to it when there was a small whooshing sound and the headmaster suddenly looked up. A small, silvery object came darting through the woods and stopped next to him. He gave it a strange look, as though it was distinctly out of place. Harry recognized it as the method the Order of the Phoenix used to convey messages to one another, though the headmaster looked surprised to be getting one just now. He leaned over slightly, as though listening, then suddenly stood very rigid.
Harry had taken in quite a few surprises over the last twenty-four hours: finding the final diary; journeying back to the Chamber of Secrets; discovering portrait of Rowena Ravenclaw; the realization that Fawkes had been the Half-Blood Prince. From the startled expression on headmaster’s face, he could tell they were in for another one. Judging by the deathly pallor that had come over it, however, he got the feeling it wasn’t a good one.
Lupin and Shacklebolt seemed to sense the same thing.
“Albus, what is it?” Lupin asked anxiously.
The headmaster looked at them, his face completely drained of the cheerfulness and good-spirits that had been there just a moment before. When he spoke his voice was as cold and sobering as ice-water.
“Voldemort has begun his assault.”