Chapter 8
Bloodlines and Ancestors
The world around Harry immediately turned dark, damp, and cold. The air smelled ancient and muskyâ”almost like old parchment. Despite having only taken a few steps through the doorway, it was considerably colder. Thinking he may have been transported somewhere far away, Harry looked back through the archway and, sure enough, there were the ruins, forest, and Dumbledore on the other side. Harry moved to give the headmaster room to enter.
Although it was too dark to see anything, Harry got the distinct feeling of being in an enormous cave. Towards the far end of the cave there was a faint, shimmering light, though Harry wasnât sure if it was real or from the glare of the sun on his eyes.
âWalk towards the light, Harry,â Dumbledore said from somewhere in front of him, his voice sounding eerily like a disembodied spirit. A rustle of robes and the faint clatter of footsteps told Harry that the headmaster had begun walking himself.
Harry followed, wary of running into any unseen objects. Noticing that the sound of Dumbledoreâs footsteps were quickly fading, Harry decided it was better to risk hitting his shins than be left in the dark and quickened his pace.
His eyes now accustomed to the darkness, Harry saw that there was definitely a light at the far end of the cave. It was a strange, shimmering, golden lightâ”about the size of a knut and getting steadily larger. He continued walking, gaining confidence with each step.
The light had now grown into a large, shimmering pool about the size of a quaffle. Harry could see the silhouette of Dumbledoreâs pointed hat bobbing up and down through it. Despite being closer, Harry had absolutely no idea what the light could be, although he was briefly reminded of a penseive.
Harry couldnât say how long it took to reach the lightâ”it had a mesmerizing effect that quite made him forget about timeâ”but soon the area around him became illuminated by the strange, dancing light. He saw that he wasnât in a cave at all. He was standing at the end of a long, high corridor that opened up into a spacious chamber. The floor was made from smooth, cut stone. Across the chamber on the opposite wall, perhaps 50 feet away, was the sparkling, golden light. It was formed in a giant arc, several yeards above the ground.
Moving closer to get a better look, Harryâs jaw dropped in astonishment as the light took a recognizable shape. It wasâ”there was no other way to describe itâ”a giant, golden tree. The top part of the tree arched across the circular wall in a giant rainbow shape, tiny bars of light dancing and shimmering like a million twinkling stars. It reminded Harry of the moon reflected in Hogwarts Lake, only, instead of a pale, ghostly white, this light was a rich, magnificent gold.
Coming to the wall next to Dumbledore, Harry was surprised to see that it was covered with words. Small, black writing had been expertly chiseled into the wall. On further inspection Harry realized that they were actually names.
âProfessor, whatâŚwhat is this?â he asked, awestruck and confused.
âThis is the bloodline of Godric Gryffindor, Harry. This chamber was constructed shortly after his death almost 1,000 years ago. It was constructed as a tribute to his courage and compassion, and it lists every person who has decended from Godric Gryffindor,â Dumbledore explained, a tone of reverence in his voice. âIt is, quite literally, the Gryffindor family tree.
âLook here at the base,â Dumbledore said pointing towards the floor. A large, elaborate crest bearing a lion had been carved into the wall, and two names were written, slightly larger than the rest: âGodric Gryffindorâ and âAdriena Grayestoneâ. A vertical line rose from the crest and branched off into 3 more names, âGodfried Gryffindorâ, âWulfric Gryffindorâ, and âArlen Gryffindorâ. The names were written in a flowery, ancient style, and it was a struggle to make them out at first, but Harry soon saw that each of these names branched out into more names, and those into more, and so on until the entire circular wall was filled with hundreds of thousands of them. The names at the top disappeared into the golden light above him.
âEach line represents a generation Harry. As you can see the family married with other families over the centuriesâ”some wizard and some Muggleâ”and is now quite extensive.â
Harry continued to study the wall, fascinated by how many names were on it. It was amazing to think that each name had been a real person, someone who had lived hundreds and hundreds of years ago. As he studied, however, something caught his attention.
From Godric Gryffindorâs name the tree branched out to three smaller names; Wulfric Gryffindor, Arlen Gryffindor, and Godfreid Gryffindor. Apparently the names of his 3 sons. Both Godfreid and Arlen branched into more names and their decendants sprang upwards and formed the trunk, branches, and leaves of the tree. Wulfric Gryffindor, however, had no decendants above him. His name was placed slightly higher and was written slightly larger than his brothers; Harry guessed this was because he was Godric's eldest son. While the rest of the tree soared upwards, this particular line seemed to have stopped completely. Confused, Harry turned to Dumbledore.
âProfessor Dumbledore, what happened here?â he said, pointing to the name. âWhy does this one stop?â Harry inquired.
Harry thought he saw the headmasterâs eyes droop slightly; his face turning oddly serious. âIf I knew the answer to that, Harry, this war would be a whole lot easier.â
Confused, Harry waited for further explanation.
âBut that is neither here nor there,â Dumbledore said, regaining his composure in an instant. âKeep looking though, Harry. You may see a name or two you might recognize,â he continued, his voice regaining its cheerfullness.
As he turned his attention back to the wall, Harry soon forgot all about his question. The names seemed to rush out at him, each with its own personality and story to tell.
âDalthrop Angnorâ, âPuddle Abernathyâ, âLangroy Ellthropâ, âRoderick Kettleburnââ”again Harry was astonished with how many there were. âMalric Tiddleburtâ, âMontgomery Crouchâ.
âMontgomery Crouch,â Harry spoke out loud, âProfessor, is this man related toâŚâ
âYes Harry, that would be the late Mr. Crouchâs ancestor. Keep looking, I believe you will find more interesting names than that,â answered Dumbledore, a warm smile on his face.
âDangor Eddelbeerâ, âThane Melrodâ, âEdwin Fallbrookââ”And then he saw it.
âAngdrius Potterâ.
Harry gasped. Angdrius Potter?
A surge of excitement shot through him. There were bound to be other Potters in the wizard world, but what ifâŚHarry anxiously traced the line with his finger.
âUriah Potterâ, Daniel Potterâ, âAndrew Potter,â the list continued to grow. Soon Harry was standing on his toes, stretching to read each additional name. He wasnât tall enoughâ”he needed to get higher.
As if reading his mind, Dumbledore strode forward and tapped the floor next to Harryâs foot with his wand. The stone tile he had been standing on began to rise, allowing him to reach the higher names. At any other time he would have been impressed, but the excitement of the moment drove the makeshift elevatior from his mind. The tile soon stopped, bringing his head just a couple feet below the light.
Harry quickly resumed where he had left off: âTheodore Potterâ, âGrant Potterââ”he was almost into the light nowâ”âMichael PotterâŚâ âDaniel Potter IIâŚâ âJames PotterâŚâ
The breath caught in Harryâs throat. âJames Potter?â That had to beâŚ
Following the thin line upwards with his finger, Harry was startled to see the next name, shimmering back at him in a brilliant, golden lightâŚ
âHarry Potterâ.
Harry stared at his name in the wall, completely astonished. He felt his legs wobble and quickly caught himself just before he fell to the floor.
âFind something interesting, Harry?â Dumbledore asked causally.
âProfessorâŚmy nameâŚmy dadâŚweâreâŚthat meansâŚâ he stammered in disbelief.
âThat means that you are a literal descendant of Godric Gryffindor, Harry.â
Harry looked at him in amazement. The old professor looked back up at him, a smile on his face.
âYouâll find many of your schoolmates are up there as well. I believe the Weasleys can be located several yards to your right, as can Mr. Longbottom.â
As he walked to the edge of the tile, the one adjacent to it slowly began to rise from the floor, as did the next two. After an intense search he found them: âGinerva Weasleyâ (he had never known Ginnyâs full name was âGinervaâ), âRonald Weasleyââ”they were all there. In fact, an entire foot of wall space appeared to be dedicated soley to the Weasley family. This brought an odd realization to Harry.
âSo, does this mean that Iâm related to the Weasleyâs?â
âIn a way, yes, though you are so far removed it would hardly be considered related,â Dumbledore mused. âYouâll find everyone is related if you go back far enough, and not just in the wizard world.â
Harry studied the wall a bit longer, amazed at some of the other names he found: âSusan Bonesâ, âOliver Woodâ, âAnthony Goldsteinâ, âAmos Diggoryâ. He was especially shocked to see âTheodore Nottâ, the lanky Slytherin whose father was a death eater.
âBut sir, Theodore Nott is on here. Isnât he a Slytherin?â
âAh, Mr. Nott. Yes, Harry, his family is also descended from GryffindorâŚDoes that surprise you?â he added, seeing the confusion on Harryâs face.
âWell, yeah. I guess I thought to be in Slytherin you kind of had to be related to him.â
âNot at all. A personâs heritage by no means determines their character, Harry. Far from it. Youâll find that many of Gryffindorâs descendants are cowards, while some of Slytherinâs descendants are actually delightful people.â
Harry thought briefly back to his second year when he had been terrified that he was the heir of Slytherin. The headmaster had told him then pretty much the same thing.
Looking back at the golden names on the wall, a new question popped into his mind.
âProfessor, how come the names at the top are golden while the rest are black?â
âA good question. This wall was built as a tribute to Godric Gryffindor after his death. It has been enchanted to record the name of every child born into the Gryffindor bloodline. While that person is alive, their name shines with the golden light you see. When that person dies, the light is extinguished.â
Harry looked at his own name twinkling back at him, then beneath it at his fatherâs name. The letters were dead and black. For the first time he saw the name connected with it: âLily Evansâ.
Harry studied the wall for a few more minutes, looking over and over his family line until turning back to Dumbledore.
âWow, professor. I never knew this about my family,â Harry said, still awestruck.
âOf course you didnât Harry. No one has ever told you. I thought you might like to see where you came from.â
âI didâŚdo. Thank you. ErâŚhow do I get down?â Harry asked, looking over the edge of the tile to the floor below.
Dumbledore smiled and with a quick flick of his wand, Harry found himself returning to ground level.
âWell then, if you are tired of looking at strange old names, I have something else I would like to show you Harry. Something that will make all this a little moreâŚreal,â said Dumbledore, nodding at the tree.
Not sure what to expect next, Harry followed the headmaster back through the dark corridor.
They slowly made their way down the corridor and out the brass door. It was now dusk, the sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon, setting the few remaining clouds on fire. The remainder of the sky had durned a deep purple and the evening star shone brightly on Harry as he made his way back through the ruins.
A happiness and contentment he had never known swelled in Harry as he walked. Learning more about his parents had always excited him, but his grand-parents, great-grand-parents? He somehow felt connected to them too. It was a different feeling for him, a sense of family, of belonging.
The air smelled sweet and fresh as they returned to the forest. Harry had a spring in his stepâ”he was in Godricâs Hollow! The place his family had lived in for generations! The place he had been born in! The place his parents had lived beforeâŚ
Harry remembered where he had heard the name Godric's Hollow before and the realization hit him like a bludger to the head. He stopped walking.
Whirling around to face Dumbledore, who had also stopped walking, Harry's voice rang through the night.
âProfessor, I was born here, right?â he demanded.
âThatâs right Harry.â Dumbledore responded.
âAnd my family has lived here for generations?â
âYes Harry,â he nodded sadly, apparently seeing where the questions were going.
âDid...did my parents live here before Vol...," Harryâs voice cracked, âbefore VoldemortâŚattacked them?â
Dumbledore nodded gravely and said nothing.
A cold wave swept over Harry. His throat constricted and he felt himself gasp for air as if he were drowning. There was a deafening silence. Then he spoke in a loud, hollow voice he hardly recognized as his own.
âI want to see it.â
Dumbledore shook his head gravely. âHarry, I do not think it would be best toâŚâ
âPROFESSORâŚâ Harry spoke, a little more demanding than he had meant to. âI want to see it.â
Dumbledore looked back at Harry, sorrow etched in his face. He seemed to be weighing the matter in his head. Then he gave a heavy sigh.
âVery well, Harry,â he acquiesced.
Harry watched as the tall, slender form of his headmaster turned and disappeared into the dark wood. Heart throbbing and palms sweaty, Harry followed him towards the place where his parents had been murdered.