Chapter 9
The Rage of Cilia Potter
"So," said Harry. "How've you been?"
Peter raised an eyebrow. "I take it that wasn't the exact question you were planning on asking us, now, was it?" he said, with a hollow laugh.
Harry sighed and shook his head gloomily. "I want you to explain," said Harry, "how is it that you've existed just as much as the Dursleys, yet it was them that I had to live with all my life?!"
"Oh, dear," said Jasmine and pulled Harry into a tight hug, at which he found himself slightly blushing from embarrassment. "We are so sorry, Harry."
"Yeah," he said as she pulled away, "a lot of people seem to feel that way around me!"
"Don't take it like that - it's just that, well, it's rather a long story - " said Peter.
"I'm listening," said Harry, his arms crossed.
"Perhaps it's best if we go and sit down somewhere, don't you?" Peter's wife told him, tentatively.
"Er - yeah, I think that's a good idea," he said.
Jasmine, Peter, Harry, and Mark all walked into one of the rooms that looked rather empty, as they climbed the stairs, and Harry noticed that it reminded him of the Room of Requirements, only in the fashion of a rather large living room. They all sat on the biggest couch and faced each other.
Peter took a very deep breath. Mark stared amusingly at his parents and then at Harry.
"I suppose it all started with your mother being a witch, Harry," said Peter. "You see, it was quite peculiar that one of her parents was a Squib and the other was a Half-Squib -
"Wait, they were Squibs?" said Harry.
" - Er, yes, or at least that's what I recall - which made her chances of being a witch less than young Mark here had of ever becoming a wizard. We had to note that we weren't too pleased when he showed signs of magical ability. We were prompted to not have to deal with the Wizarding world since the rise and fall of You-Know-Who. He is, mainly, the reason for our avoidance of you. You see, Jasmine and I, unlike many of those who had contact with the magical world, were convinced that he had not fallen completely. We knew that he was still alive...we believed that because we knew about the prophecy..."
"What?!" Harry had gotten up.
"As did your parents, Harry," said Jasmine quickly.
"Lily trusted me, Harry," said Peter. "We were dear friends. She decided to make me the Secret-Keeper of the prophecy."
"But that's impossible," Harry spoke quickly. "The prophecy was nearly at the hands of Voldemort last year. I was able to find it, wasn't I? They had to protect it, didn't they? The Order?"
"Er -" said Peter, looking rather uncomfortable. "Harry, I said that she decided to do that, but the power of the prophecy was ever greater than that of myself for I was a Squib. You see, though I was a perfectly unsuspectable person - a person who seemed to not have any special connection with Lily, it was quite false. Lily and I were very close. The best of friends. She was an amazing cousin and I miss her dearly..."
"But you didn't do it, did you? You didn't have the guts to become it's Secret-Keeper, did you? You were too scared for your own skin, weren't you?" Harry was pacing around the room and on the verge of screaming.
"Calm down, Potter," he said. Harry could hear that his tone had risen and he decided to pace his anger.
"I did no such thing! I agreed absolutely! But the thing was that the fact that the prophecy could be touched by those who it was about gave it the chance to be touched by you, You-Know-Who, and, partially, even Neville himself," he said.
"Neville? How do you know - ?"
"I know about that too, Harry," said Peter.
"But it couldn't be. The Death Eaters, last year, they tried to steal it. They wanted to take it. They could have, couldn't they?"
"On the contrary," said Peter, "they could not. Do you not wonder why the prophecy was dropped by Neville? Do you not wonder why it was destroyed in the hands of someone to whom it did not truly belong? Is it perhaps that Neville was clumsy? No - there is more to it...If Lestrange would have perhaps gotten hold of the prophecy, she would never be able to hold it in her possession. Do you not wonder why no one heard it when it fell? Perhaps because no one was paying attention? Once again - wrong. It was because of destiny, the destiny of the protection of the prophecy that lay inside of my soul. It wasn't as strong had it been conducted within a real wizard, but Lily insisted on using me. The reason why we couldn't take you in, Harry, was because we didn't want to give you the burden of growing up with that knowledge. The fact that we were your close and dear relatives and had lied to you all these years would have led you to despise the very last of the family that you have left. Harry, if Dumbledore had let us, he would have easily revealed us to you earlier. However, there was no explanation for us...you did not know about the prophecy...he was afraid that I might one day leak out the information because I would have been scared for its own purpose...I must say that I do not doubt that that could have been possible...carrying its information is a heavy burden. A Pensive, even, couldn't extract it from my mind," he said.
A moment of silence filled the room.
"So - so Aunt Petunia...she - she's a Squib, is she?"
"Yes...and no," said Peter. "Let's just say that Petunia is about one-fourth of a Squib. She rather likes to avoid magic, even more so than Jasmine and I. She despised everything that walked, talked, or breathed magic" - he shook his head - "Not a pleasant woman...not at all."
"You can imagine," said Jasmine, "when we tried to make contact with her! We were great friends with Lily, and if there ever was a person she despised, it was her own sister. I've never seen any hatred like it, come to think of it."
Harry was breathing silently to himself and Mark was gaping at the three of them.
They all turned to the door as they heard voices in the hallway below. They eyed each other and, shrugging, left the room together.
There, in the entrance to the lighthouse stood a woman who Harry knew to be no other than his grandmother, greeted by Dumbledore and Mrs. Weasley.
Oh, no... thought Harry. He was glad to see her, but, he had failed Dumbledore and Sirius...he hadn't told her...
"Priscilla Ann Potter!" came Professor McGonagall's voice as Harry watched her descend the stairs with a broad grin on her face, which he found highly amusing considering the fact that this was the stiff and dense Professor.
"Minerva? Minerva McGonagall?" said Cilia.
Harry's mouth plopped open as he watched Professor McGonagall run up and meet Cilia half-way, embracing her in a deep hug.
"Oh, it is so good to see you, Minie!" said Cilia.
Harry snorted. Minie?
"All these years...how have you been?" said McGonagall in a tone that Harry had never heard her speak before.
"Not half as good as my bestest friend. You look younger than ever, Minie," she replied.
"I'll take that as a compliment, Cilia," said McGonagall and they both laughed.
Never had Harry seen Professor McGonagall behave like this except perhaps at Christmas dinner.
"And where the devil is my grandson! I haven't seen him since I had a glimpse of him several months ago!"
"Hi, Grandma," said Harry, a grin spreading over his face as he followed Professor McGonagall down to greet her.
She smiled at him and Harry just noticed that she, unmistakably, had his messy black hair, which had retreated to a somewhat greyish color and braided so that it wasn't out of control.
"Harry! Ohhhh, it's great to finally - oh, it's just so good to see you," she said as she held him in a very unbreakable hug. "Now! How long are you planning to stay here? For Christmas I suppose, don't you? Let's see, I made reservation for the next deportation on the first of January, so I think we're good - "
"Cilia? What are you - ? Potter, you didn't talk to her, did you?" said McGonagall, her character retreating to its usual strict self.
"Talk about what, Minie? Harry's coming with me, aren't you, dear?"
"Well...erm...no, I - I'm not," said Harry.
As Cilia's expression sank, he suddenly began to wish that those words had not come out of his mouth because she wasn't only looking depressed...she was angry...beyond measure. Harry had only seen two people with expressions that looked this mad and they had belonged to Dumbledore and Luna.
"What do you mean by it?!" she yelled, turning away from Harry and to the others. "He is coming with me!"
"Now, Cilia, be reasonable," said McGonagall in a worried voice.
"REASONABLE?! I AM BEING REASONABLE, MINERVA!" she yelled. Harry had now began to realize where he had gotten his temper from -
But that was not all. Harry noticed that his grandmother was looking scarier than ever and her fists were clenched. Her hair began to unravel from the delicately executed braid that she had bore and Harry recognized a similar aura about her that he had seen when Luna had told him that it was her that had destroyed the veil...
She was shining significantly and began to rise into the air...her hands were glowing now, as were her eyes.
"YOU WILL NOT TAKE HARRY AWAY FROM ME! HE IS LEAVING WITH ME, IF IT IS THE LAST THING HE DOES!"
Harry gulped. Professor McGonagall, Dumbledore, and Mrs. Weasley had all whipped out their wands and pointed them at her, each blocking her off from Harry.
"DO NOT TOY WITH US, CILIA!" boomed Dumbldore's voice, which made Harry's bone shiver, but, no matter, it was nothing compared to Cilia's shrill voice that made Harry even more frightened.
"TOYING, DUMBLEDORE? WHO'S TOYING, BUT YOU WITH THE BOY'S EMOTIONS? WHEN HE WAS DEPRIVED OF LOVE FOR SO LONG! NO PARENTS, NO RELATIVES, WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY IT? HE BELONGS WITH ME!"
"HE DOES NOT!" said Dumbledore, pointing his wand more meaningfully at her. "HE KNOWS BETTER THAN TO LEAVE. YOU MUST HEAR HIM OUT, CILIA!"
"PLEASE! DON'T GIVE ME ANY OF YOUR COCK-AND-BULL, DUMBLEDORE! WHAT COULD HE POSSIBLY TELL ME - ?"
"Please, Grandma," said Harry weakly. "Just hear me out."
Her head jerked over to him, and she began to sink to the floor. She came closer to Harry and put a wrinkled hand on his face. She sighed and turned to Dumbledore, nodding.
Harry caught a glimpse of some puzzled faces looking down at them from the top of the stairs, having walked out of the rooms that they were in, in order to make out what all of the commotion was about.
"There, now," Dumbledore spoke. "Harry, I suggest that you explain everything thoroughly to your grandmother. And I believe you owe him a bit of an explanation yourself, Cilia."
She scowled, but placed a hand on Harry's back.
"We will meet the two of you for dinner. In the meant time, I would like to inform you, Harry, that the school has been completely evacuated and that no students reside there at the moment. Exams will be made up after the Winter Break, if all goes as planned, for we have not heard further information on the Order's behalf," he spoke calmly and left Harry to be dragged away to another part of the lighthouse by Cilia, where Harry was slightly shaking at the idea that she might explode again.
Cilia had walked with Harry for quite a while before she finally spoke. "I'm sorry I lost my temper, there, Harry. I suppose that it is rather in my, say, nature."
"That's a-alright," said Harry, still a bit shaky; he hoped that he never had to see her like that again. "I suppose you're wondering why I'm staying, aren't you?"
"Staying? Now, we have not decided that yet! I don't know what you have in mind to convince me, Harry, but I do hope that the reason is worthy enough!"
"It is," said Harry and began to tell her about the prophecy, whose re-telling he didn't fancy, especially while he had to look into her worried face. He then included his experience with Voldermort during his five years at Hogwarts and how he rose back to power.
Cilia stood there, open mouthed. "Oh, dear. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear..." she mumbled. "I don't believe it! And I suppose Fudge didn't either, did he?"
"N - how do you know that?"
"Know? Harry, dear, Cornelius Fudge was at school with me! Several years younger, but such a foolishly ignorant boy; we use to call him Fudgie. He hated the name," she chuckled. "Was rather pathetic, mind you, all throughout school."
"And Professor McGonagall? She attended school with you?"
"Oh, yes. I owe a lot to Minie - er - that's Professor McGonagall to you. She was the best friend that many dare not imagine of ever being towards me."
"How come?"
Cilia sighed, looking at Harry. "Oh, come now, dear, can't you tell what I'm like? Didn't you just see my reaction? I'm - I'm not really what you call normal."
"How so?" asked Harry, curiously.
She sighed again. "You ever meet a banshee, Harry?"
"Banshee? Well, no, but - actually, yes, in my third year. Though she was just a boggart of Seamus's - "
"Who's this Seamus boy?"
"Seamus Finnigan, he's - "
"Finnigan!" she shrieked, and Harry was tempted to cover his eyes at the thought that she would burst again.
"Er, you know him?"
"Know him? Hmph. Well, not so much as him, but I knew his grandmother. Emily Finngan. Earlier known as Emily Stratter. That wench! She was that one that spilled my entire secret to the school and then forced me to leave the country!"
"What are you talking about?" asked Harry anxiously.
"Harry, I don't expect you to understand but, I'm - I'm rather different, Harry. I'm not like everyone else. I'm part - part-banshee."
"What?!"
"I was afraid that you would not want to contact me if you knew the truth. I was highly feared at school when Emily spilled my secret. My early maiden name was Dewitt, Priscilla Dewitt, so I was soon known as the dangerous and avoided `Dewitt girl.' Not many people would befriend someone that was part banshee, mind you."
"But - but how is that possible?"
"Ever wonder why you have such untidy hair, Harry?"
Harry numbly ran his fingers through his hair, at which in popped back into its confused place.
"Was my father - ?"
"No, only women become banshees, thankfully. At least, that is exactly the reason for why I never had more than one child; I was afraid of having a girl and that my curse would become her nightmare. Nevertheless, I was afraid for him. I feared that people would treat him the same way that they treated me when I attended Hogwarts. But James was brave, like his father. He wouldn't let anyone look down on him. Well, with the exception of your mother, that is. He made sure that, if he was feared, he had his own reason. James was a wise magician. He made powerful friends and had quite the title at his school. You can only imagine the number of owls I got about him from the care taker daily," she chuckled.
"That's why - that's why - " Harry found it hard to break down the words.
"He was a bit of a git?" Cilia finished for him.
"Er - yeah."
She laughed. "Yes, James did not like to take those who annoyed him lightly. Particularly those who ever brought up my name in a harsh manner. Eventually, however, he took it a bit further than I expected and went a bit tough around the corners, but calmed down near graduation year."
"How is it that she made you leave the country - Emily, that is?" said Harry.
"Emily was scared, not to mention jealous, to death of me. I was quite the beauty queen when I was young, mind you. If there was one thing that she made sure to do is make it so that the entire public knew that I was a banshee as well as the school. When the war began, people feared that a part-banshee would work for You-Know-Who considering the fact that he had them recruited. They did not trust me and the Ministry had began to gather aurors to capture me - "
"No!"
"Yes! Dumbledore insisted I stay, but Eric - that was your grandfather's name - did not want to risk my safety. We fled to Brazil, where we managed to gain a beautiful home. As I've mentioned before, I pleaded James and Lily to come with us, but they insisted on staying. Little did I know though - if they would have told me, I would have understood about the prophecy..."
"But didn't you get - er - mad?"
"Oh, I had rarely turned that way towards James and I knew that he could decide for himself...it was time for me to let go. Of course, I tried to fight Eric off and tell him that I would not leave them alone during the war, but he managed to put me under a Restraining Charm and led me out of the country. I still blame myself for not staying behind...maybe things would have been different..."
"That's not true!" said Harry. "You're not to blame yourself for something like this. It is absolutely not your fault!"
"I wish it were so, dear...how I wish it were so..."
Harry didn't know what to say. He wanted to comfort her and tell her that she was overacting, but he was too scared of what she might do...
"What made you come back?" he asked.
"Why - Sirius's death, of course," said Cilia, though soundng rather depressed. "He was like a son to me. When he died, the Ministry sent me an invitation to the Department of Mysteries - they had figured out where I had fled to after the war was over and had gathered their wits to do a little paperwork - and I came straight here. Of course, I still had no idea that you existed. I knew what had happened to Lily and James and had visited them earlier on, but they never once mentioned you. I don't think they wanted me to know. But when I came to see Sirius, he explained what had happened - he told me that you did not have anyone left...that you needed me. The moment he told me this, which was a little before your birthday, I think, I was very upset. He told me not to take you with me, but just to let you know that I was there for you. I did not want to hear another word. I stormed out of the Department of Mysteries and settled down in London. I got one of those muggle whatsits that they call hotel rooms and was determined to find you. When I finally went to visit you, however, you had already left the Dursleys. Luckily, I ran into you at the metro station. I did not want to startle you, of course, so I made a casual approach towards you and Snape so that I might have a chance to properly present myself eventually. You see, things did not go according to my plan. I had a ship waiting for me to go back to Brazil, in hopes that I would be taking you with me, but I had not gotten the chance to speak to you. So, I departed."
"Departed? Don't you mean Dissapperated?"
"Dissapperated? Oh no, no, no dear. You cannot simply Apparate or Dissaperate in and out of country! How are they supposed to regulate control over the wizards and witches living there? It's too much of a hassle. The Worldwide International Ministry simply could not have it! No, Apparations are limited to country borders. We use bewitched transportation to get from place to place. That is why it took me so long before I could come back and see you again; I couldn't get another ticket until Christmas break, what with the war and all..."
Harry shook his head. "I don't understand...all these years and I could have visited my parents...and now the veil has been destroyed and I won't - "
"That what?! Destroyed!? When did this happen?" her voice became breathless and panicked.
"The veil...it's gone, you know," said Harry.
"Oh, my. This is simply terrible," she said.
"Tell me about it," said Harry. His face suddenly began to shine. "But isn't there another Department of Mysteries in Brazil? Isn't there one in every country with it's own veil?"
Cilia shook her head. "Oh, dear, no. There is only one Department with the Black Veil and I believe some other top-secret things. The Ministry of Magic that is in London had them stationed them for the Worldwide International Ministry. England had long been at peace with the other countries; everyone though it was safe...until now...And then, of course, I do not know why you weren't allowed to see your parents since I myself did not know that you existed since only a couple of months ago..."
"What did they say the last time you saw them?" Harry's voice was low, but he asked her, nevertheless.
"They said that they were going on just fine. They were happy that the war was over. I questioned them on You-Know-Who's downfall, but they said that they did not know anything of it. Of course, my visit there was so short that I barely got the chance to speak with anyone. You were famous, Harry, but how was I supposed to know that the Harry Potter everyone was talking about was my grandson?! I was sure Potter was simply a common name! You could have been anyone! Everywhere I went it was Harry Potter this and that, but I would have never guessed. I never heard anything about Lily and James's deaths' connection with you. Brazil only got the main facts: Voldemort was gone. Things did not carry that far and I had been isolated from much civilization myself, living out in the middle of the Amazon. Since your grandfather died, I had been most alone and I did not want to find comfort in anyone else..."
"How did he die?"
"He said that he had to take care of urgent matters while the war was still going on and returned to England. I begged him to stay, but he insisted. He didn't return for months. The next news I heard of him - he was killed by Death Eaters. Not that I didn't know it. You don't know what it's like, Harry, being part-banshee. I know when it happens...when they...die. Even if the Ministry had not informed me of the death, I still would have known. Every time someone died that was close to me, even before the death, I would get a feeling, the feeling that I get when I am in rage for putting them in danger in the first place...the urge to Cry...it is a heavy burden, Harry...I did not come to the memorial or the veil. I felt as if I would have ran into it and tried to be with him if I did. I stayed in Brazil. Years later...I find myself standing here, before you, and telling you that you remind me so much of him," she sobbed.
"You really loved him, didn't you?" said Harry.
"Yes...yes, I did," she spoke. Harry watched with a frown on his face as tears trickled down her wrinkled face. "Oh, look at me. I'm getting all emotional on you, Harry. C'mon, let's go grab a bite to eat before they swipe everything off the table."
Harry laughed and she led him towards the dining room while whipping off her tears and wrapping an arm around his shoulder.
"Oh, and, one more thing, Harry," she said just as they reached the door.
"Uh-huh?"
"If it's that important to you, you may stay...I make it your choice..."
He beamed at her and nodded as they proceeded into the hall.
Some people stared at Harry and Cilia as they entered, and some of the noise died down. Others, however, came up to Cilia and hugged her, telling her how much they missed her and how glad they were that she had returned. A vast majority, unfortunately, did not look too pleased.
Harry saw the Evans siting on one side of the table, in deep conversation with Mrs. Weasley. Cilia went to join Professor McGonagall and some other members of the Order, while Harry sat in between Ron and Hermione and faced Luna, who sat opposite of him. He noticed that she had her head bowed and was silently cutting the meat on her plate with her knife.
"What was that screaming all about? They didn't bring Sirius's mother's portrait here, did they?" asked Ron.
"Nope. That was my grandmother," said Harry.
"Your grand - ?"
But Harry cut him off. "Er - Luna, are you all right?"
She looked up at him. "Yes...I'm all right. Why do you ask?" she said.
"Well, you've just been behaving sort of - er - normal, don't you think?"
She sighed. "I suppose that I just miss my parents, that's all."
"How long is your father staying in Sweden?"
"Until the war is over," she replied.
"Oh - but where are going to stay when you're not at Hogwarts?" asked Hermione.
"At Remus Lupin's," said Luna.
Harry's eyes widened. "Lupin? You know him?" he said.
"Not much. But his brother, Romulus, was a good friend of my father's. He knew him rather well."
"What happened to him?" asked Harry.
"Who? Romulus? He was killed. During the First War, you know," she added matter-of-factly.
Harry took a bite out of some of the pastry on his plate and swallowed hard. How many lives had been lost during the First War? he thought.
Suddenly they were all interrupted. Harry watched as Cilia had gotten up and backed away from the table where everyone else was sitting, staggering her breaths while clutching her chest. She began to glow again and her knees bent as she lowered herself onto the floor.
Harry stood up and decided to help her, but Professor McGonagall had gotten there first.
"Cilia? Cilia, dear? What's wrong? Are you alright, Cilia? What is it?"
Cilia began breathing even deeper and Professor McGonagall came away from her.
She began to rise into the air just as she had done about one hour ago, but this time, she did not seem conscious of it. Her pupils had disappeared behind her eyes, which were glowing a whitish color.
A chilly wind blew through the dining hall and the earth began to tremble slightly; she was not alone. Unexpectedly, nearly twenty ghostly figures of banshees had appeared from all around the hall and formed a circle around them, Cilia in the lead. They were not solid, like Cilia, however, but more like spirits.
All of them were wearing white cloaks that flapped silently in the wind and their hair was blowing about excitedly.
At once, they all spoke in a monotone voice, which soon developed into a scream, Cilia's above the rest, "ALBUS PERCIVAL WULFRIC BRIAN DUMBLEDORE." The shriek was so unbearable that Harry's ears were pierced with a sharp pain. Beside him, Hermione was clutching him in absolute fear.
After the announcement, all of the twenty-some banshees opened their mouths wide and bellowed the most horrible noise that Harry had ever heard of. He placed both his hands in his ears, but it made no difference. The shriek was so terrifying that he didn't want to live to hear it; as if a hundred people were being tortured by the Cruciatus Curse all at the same time. Finally, the chorus ceased and the banshees vanished. Cilia's gleaming dimmed and she was lowered to the floor, where she crouched on her knees and gasped for breaths on her palms.
Professor McGonagall ran up to her, as did Harry.
She was crying. "I'm - so - so - no - can't - why - me - sorry," she whimpered.
"Cilia, calm down," said McGonagall. "Calm down, dear. It doesn't meant a thing."
"Indeed it does, Minie," said Cilia, her voice shocked.
"But what can this mean, Cilia? Surely not - "
"It means that my death is to proceed shortly after the Wail of the banshee, Minerva," spoke a voice behind all of them in the entrance.
"No - no - Dumbledore, this is ridiculous! You cannot - it doesn't -"
"The Cry means that my death is luring, Minerva. A banshee does not say when a death approaches, but it does meant that I have only a short time to live."
"But it can't - don't you - how could - ?" Professor McGonagall didn't seem to want to believe it. She helped Cilia up, who was crying desperately, and Dumbledore came up and hugged her, something that Harry had never seen him do.
"It's alright, Cilia. After all, eternity in another Realm is only as much a gift as a period of life in this one."
"It's - dreadful...dreadful...dreadful..." she sobbed.
He let go of her and spoke, "On the contrary, it is not as dreadful as it may seem. But...it is unmistakably clear, then, that it has been foretold...that my death is, I dare say, unavoidably approaching."
Harry looked up at him and saw that, now, more than ever, Dumbledore's age was showing as clearly as Harry's lightening-bolt scar.
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