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Harry Potter and the Power of Love by Solomon Aegis
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Harry Potter and the Power of Love

Solomon Aegis

4. Truths Revealed

Harry and Nara continued their downward journey to a point where the corridors became little more than rough excavations and the stairways between the levels mere ladders. The final descent led them to a wider passageway with a single opening along one side of it and although the light was dim Harry could see where a large stone door had been propped open. Nara walked into the chamber first with Harry following close behind and he beheld a brightly lit room that he knew would have sent Hermione into raptures of delight.

There was not a book in sight but the walls were covered with the most intricate array of pictograms Harry had ever seen. This was not really saying a lot since these were the only ones he had ever seen, but even Harry realised the scope and beauty of the art in the ancient story paintings was exceptional. There were hundreds of them, his eyes traced the length of the longest wall, and then in the far corner of the chamber he saw it, set into the floor, the large intricate seal that was the doorway to the Dreamtime.

Harry drew his eyes away and back to the paintings, each section of the wall held a different story, some appeared connected and others stood alone in their own right. It would take a lifetime to understand all of what he was seeing and it crossed his mind that if he did ever rescue Hermione would she ever really want to leave this place. But that was woolly thinking, rescue first, worry about the rest later, and why was he concerned, Hermione was her own person, wasn't she? And what she did in the future had nothing to do with him, …right?

Harry was drawn to one area of wall in particular, its surface blackened, and the story beneath obscured.

"What happened here?" He turned to Nara, who was trying to hide in a corner, but she could not ignore his direct question, and reluctantly she came to stand by his side.

"Professor Guru said there must have been a fire here, long ago, and that section was burnt," she replied her voice so quiet that Harry had to strain to hear. "I don't know if that is true, but I have never seen it any different."

"How long has this chamber been open?" Harry asked gently to try and encourage his nervous companion.

"Eight or nine moons… I mean months," Nara replied, instantly correcting herself. "There have always been stories about the existence of this chamber, but no one had ever considered it important to look for it." Harry raised questioning eyebrows at the girl, "Well the dreamtime is supposed to be a closed world to us so what good would it do to go there? No good at all," she said answering her own question, "only harm." Nara looked away, worried she had said too much.

"And you and Professor Guru have worked in here all that time?"

"No, you see Professor Guru started looking for this place almost from the moment she arrived at Uluru about seven years ago. I was not here," she smiled shyly, "I would only have been eight then, much too young, but everyone knows, and I have heard the stories. She divined the course of the passages down to this level, every foot of them, and then eventually, after years of work, she found this room. She was very proud to be the discoverer of the chamber, and be the only one who could work in it."

"Sort of discoverer's rights?" suggested Harry.

"Oh no," Nara shook her head, "no one else could get into the room, not even Professor Pindari, the doctor was the only one able to pass through the door and then she had to squeeze through the tiniest of gaps."

"Really?" said Harry.

"Yes she worked alone for many weeks. It was almost like there was a barrier holding everybody back then all of a sudden for no reason anyone could understand it wasn't there anymore. Professor Guru seemed pleased that at last she could have some help and much has been done since then to decipher the paintings."

"And that is where you came in right?" Harry asked, slowly taking his wand from his pocket.

"Almost, I've been Professor Guru's assistant for six months," Nara said with false pride, "this chamber has been our life since then, reading, understanding; Hermione was very good at deciphering the stories, I'm sure that is why the professor hated her so …" Nara clamped her hand over her mouth wishing those last words had never been said, but her worries were groundless, Harry was not really listening his mind was on another track.

Harry's experiences with secret chambers were not good and he had a horrible feeling that this one would be no different. With his wand drawn he walked back to the door; he cast no spell but ran the tip of the wand along the edge of the stone that had once plugged the gap. He could feel the resistance of an old charm, someone had used magic, his type of magic, to bar this door and as Guru was the only one able to pass it, it suggested that the spell was hers'. But why would she want to keep others out? Perhaps it was a wish to keep her discovery to herself? That was certainly possible, but as Harry moved over to the blackened wall again he was not so sure.

"So this was like this when the chamber was fully opened and no one has tried to clean it?" he said tapping his wand gently on the stone. Again Harry could feel the magic that had been used to disfigure the wall.

For the first time Harry saw an expression on Nara's face other than one that was full of conflicting emotions, she was absolutely horrified at the idea. "Oh no, Professor Guru has expressly forbidden it, and it is such an ancient painting, to clean it may destroy it," then she sighed, "But it is sad because the story that is hidden here could tell us much, it might be the one that gives the reason for the construction of the chamber."

"Well," said Harry, "let's find out. Pindari told me to do what I thought was right." He stood back, straightening his arm; his wand held steadily in his hand, he heard Nara gasp as he pointed it directly at the disfigured section of wall.

"No! you mustn't," Nara cried, "it is forbidden!"

Harry gave a dark smile, "I never was one to take much notice of rules, I'm sure Hermione must have mentioned that; Recantus Tergeus" Harry spoke the spell very gently and the purple sparkles that flowed from his wand softly peppered the surface of the wall. Very slowly the blackened surface faded away leaving the bright colours painted on the wall so long ago clear and clean.

"There!" Harry said, once he was satisfied, "Good as new," he scratched his head, "I only wish I knew what it meant."

Nara was staring in wonder, alternately at the newly revealed paintings, and then at Harry. "Err… let me…" she offered, "I can read it,". Harry stepped back and let the girl scrutinise the wall.

"It is a story that tells of the past, present and future." She said as her finger ran lightly over the paintings. "It tells of the evil spirit Marmoo, in the long past, in the dreamtime, he created the insects to destroy the world of the One Father and the Sun Mother, but the birds came into being and they ate the insect horde and so the world was saved. That is an old traditional story," she told Harry, as she moved on to the next line of paintings. "It says here that Marmoo hid his failure deep in his breast but it chewed at his vitals and twisted his mind. This was the way it was supposed to be, but then Marmoo spoke with a voice that came to him from a deep dark pool, and the voice told him of a plan to destroy the world of men."

Nara stared at the painting depicting a woman standing knee deep in a pool of water conversing with the disgruntled spirit. That she was female was obvious by her nakedness, but that was not what disturbed Nara, the features of the painted figure so exquisitely drawn were horribly familiar to the girl, they were those of Professor Guru. At the realisation of what she was seeing, Nara's mind suddenly opened, all the images she had thought were dreams and imaginings cleared in the light of reality. But it was a reality she did not want to believe in, the professor had hated Hermione that is why she had sent her into the Tjukurpa, there was nothing more to it than that.

Nara hesitated in her translation; she went back and studied the pictographs once again. The story they told was the same, there was no other translation, so how could she now not believe, for it was here in front of her, fixed in stone, written by some unknown hand many thousands of years ago.

"You ok?" Harry asked his tone one of concern, at the sight of Nara's shaking hand.

The girl steadied herself, she dared not look at Harry for fear that her resolve would fail and stared fixedly at the wall and the pictures painted there. "Yes I'm fine; there's more here do you want me to go on?"

"Yes please," said Harry.

Nara pushed away the thoughts running through her mind, thoughts that would have her tell Harry everything and she concentrated on the translation. "Marmoo would fashion a creature, big enough and cunning enough to attack Baiame, the One Father, and poison him with its sting. Baiame would not die, for he is immortal but he would start to forget the world he had made with the Sun Mother, Ybi. Because of his inattention the world would begin to turn in on itself and then, when the time is right, Marmoo could release an infinite army of his creations and the world of the inapertwa would cease to be."

"What good would that do anyone?" Harry spoke his thoughts out loud, "If the world is gone no one wins."

"No Harry you misunderstand. The world that will die is not that of the Shaman or the Wizard; our worlds are part of the dreamtime that is where our magic comes from. We would be spared, it is the world of those who have no magic, who cannot see what we see, that will be overrun."

"You mean muggles?"

"Yes, we call them 'inapertwa' it means 'the simple creatures'. Our name for them is not very flattering but then the term muggle is the same where you come from is it not?"

Harry sighed, "It means more to some than to others," he said sadly. "Is that all there is on the wall?"

"No there is one more line," Nara turned her attention back to the paintings. "It is not so easy to read. There is a woman with a… there is no word for this symbol it seems to be a fighting cat. Yes, a woman with a fighting cat at her heart; she tries to stop Marmoo but she is thrown down by the creature from the deep pool." Finally Nara understood, she believed; it was more than hate that had made Guru do what she had done to Hermione. Nara now realised that she could no longer withhold the truth from Harry.

He was talking quietly to himself trying to make sense of it all. "A lion in her heart, a Gryffindor. …Hermione? No, that isn't possible," Harry said it with open disbelief. "But she has vanished into this Dreamtime of yours…. so if it was her what sort of creature could it be, a Grindlyow, Dugbog, a Merperson?" Harry was recalling all he could remember from Hagrid's classes.

"No Harry, it was not even the Bunyip," Nara broke his train of thought as she mentioned the magical creature that haunted pools and stole babies from unwary travellers. Harry turned his attention to the girl, who seemed to be fighting some internal turmoil, then suddenly her indecision was gone and the words rushed out in a panic to tell him everything. "It was Professor Guru!" she cried. "In the old tongue Guru means deep water. Oh Harry it was her and she really means to do it!" The girl was shaking in fear and looked at Harry with wide, tear filled eyes as she finally said, "It was Professor Guru Harry, she was the one who pushed Hermione through the seal!"

"What!" Harry's face darkened and he took on a fearsome appearance, Nara shrunk away from him. He grabbed her arm. "Tell me!" The girl shrieked and Harry with great effort calmed himself. "I'm sorry, please tell me what happened."

Nara stifled a sob, "I knew the professor didn't like Hermione, she resented her being here. Hermione was not a native; Guru believed that a myall witch had no place in her department. At least that is what I thought, but now I understand. There were rituals you see, I always thought I was dreaming them," she pointed at the figure of the woman in the pool, "Guru like that, summoning Marmoo to attack me, I don't know why, though now I have read the pictogram perhaps she thought I was the one with the lion in my heart."

"But Guru worked out it was Hermione instead," surmised Harry.

"I suppose she must have done," Nara agreed. "I was out in the corridor when I heard the professor use a myall spell, I peeked around the door and I saw Hermione bound so tightly, lying on the floor, then Professor Guru pointed her ju-stick at the seal and she said the unlocking words. The seal opened and the professor dragged Hermione to the edge and rolled her in," Nara looked imploringly at Harry, willing him to understand her fear, "I didn't know what to do, I thought of running but Keli was right behind me and he caught me, brought me in here, they made so many threats if I told what had happened to Hermione." Nara burst into tears. "I've wanted to tell someone this for so long," she sobbed, "but I've been so afraid."

"And so you should be," said a cold voice from the door.

Harry didn't hesitate for a second, his wand was still in his hand, and he spun around, pointed and fired. "Expelliarmis!" he yelled, and Guru's ju-stick flew from her hand, and the professor herself was catapulted out into the corridor to crash against the far wall. "Colloportus," Harry ordered, and with a commanding flick of his wand the great stone slab of the door ponderously moved to fill the gap and sealed itself tight.

He scooped Guru's ju-stick from the floor where it had landed, and pushed it into Nara's shaking hands. "Here you can probably make better use of this than I can. I've no doubt that Guru will be at us again and I don't know how long that door will hold."

Harry walked over to the other side of the room and for the first time seriously studied the doorway to the dreamtime. A circular stone set into the floor, its surface covered with symbols that meant little to the young wizard. "So Guru is the one manipulating this Marmoo character and if he is not stopped the muggle world will end." He mumbled to himself, Harry's shoulders sagged and he stared at the portal to the Tjukurpa in silence for a moment. "Oh Bugger!" he finally said to no one in particular, "Why does it have to be me again?"

'Because Harry - you're a great wizard, and you know there are the more important things like friendship, bravery and love. I do need you Harry - be careful!' And Harry knew that Hermione was right.

"You say you know the enchantment to open this?" Harry asked pointing his wand at the carved floor; Nara nodded in reply.

"Purana Marombi but they are just words. I do not know how to use the ju-stick, only a fully trained shaman has that knowledge."

"Great," said Harry with a certain amount of feeling, "we'll just have to carry on the way I have since I arrived here, and play it by ear. Is their anything more on that wall that will help us?"

"I don't think so, there is a symbol for a man and hiding inside him is a brown boa, he is shown striding over the dark water, to the woman with the cat… sorry lion heart." Nara was shaking her head, "That is all does it mean anything to you."

"What is a brown boa?" asked Harry, hoping he already knew the answer.

"A snake," it was the reply he wanted.

"Yes!" he shouted and punched the air and he smiled at Nara's perplexed expression. "Ironic really, the wizard I fought, Voldemort, he was the one with the snake. He tried to kill me when I was very young; instead, amongst other things he made me a parselmouth, now I am the one with the snake inside him. Poor old Voldemort; how he would have hated the idea that, yet again, he has helped me out." There was a loud banging from the other side of the magically sealed door. "Will you be ok here; you could come with me."

"Me in there, in the dream time," shrieked Nara, "no way, don't worry I can hide, I'll be fine."

Harry place himself over the decorated seal, he had broken so many rules now he doubted that one more would matter so he pointed his wand downwards closed his eyes and focused all his magical power into the spell "Purana Marombi". He wasn't even sure his wand would respond to the aboriginal enchantment but a deep rumbling sound made the whole room shake and Harry felt the seal begin to spin beneath him. He opened his eyes to see Nara sinking back into the shadows Guru's ju-stick held close to her chest, and then the door burst open and a dishevelled Professor Guru stood on the threshold. At that moment Harry felt the floor beneath his feet give way and he hurtled downwards. Fading into the distance he could hear a desperate cry of anguish from the professor as she realised she was too late.

* * *

There was nothing that Hermione could do to prevent Professor Guru tipping her into the vortex; the total body bind Guru had used held her tight. The vortex closed over her head and suddenly Hermione found her arms and legs free, but there was nothing for her to do with them, nothing to grab hold of, nothing to stop her from falling, and at this particular moment that was precisely what she was doing. She did manage to fumble for her wand deep in the pocket of the thin set of aboriginal style robes she had taken to wearing. Pointing her wand down in the direction she was travelling she tried to slow her fall but no matter what she used the spells didn't seem to be working. In desperation Hermione then aimed a messenger spell back up to where she hoped the mouth of the vortex was, she called for the one she knew would come if he could, but only the faintest wisp of her patronus slipped from the end of her wand and it was soon lost in the air that swirled around her.

She was not sure how long she had been falling, long enough for the panic to subside and for her to resign herself to whatever fate had in store for her. It was clear that her magic did not work so there was little she could do to help herself that way, she did however concentrate her mind on the dark haired young man she had tried to send her message to, and even if was not actually helping her situation it made her feel better. She remembered the first time she had seen Harry, so many years ago on the train going to Hogwarts; wide eyed and innocent, so different from the weary young man that had returned with Kingsley. So affected by the war and the guilt he carried that it broke her heart to see him, but the pain of Ron's accusations were far too fresh in her mind, for her to get too close, and so she watched at a distance, not letting him see that she was there. It was an opportunity missed and she regretted it because now it might be too late to set the record straight, and tell him how she really felt.

Hermione fell into a day full of sunshine, she could see the ground below her rushing to meet her, this was it, where it was all going to end. She thought of her parents and sighed, she thought of everything she was leaving behind and the tears dampened her eyes, then she thought of Harry and she cried. A blessed darkness claimed her before the ground and she never knew how hard she hit it.

* * *

Harry had fallen before; from his broom, onto the hard ground of the quidditch pitch; from the girl's toilet on the second floor of Hogwarts, into the chamber of secrets; and from that trapdoor in the corridor on the third floor, down into the grip of the devils snare, but none of the falls were quite like this. He could not see the walls of whatever shaft he was falling through and the air, although Harry could hear it rushing past his ears, did nothing to ruffle his clothes or hair. He decided he was not really rushing down to meet oblivion on some hard unyielding surface; it was more like being in a lift, only there was no lift, only him.

He remained calm, and began to experiment by waving his arms about to see if he could affect his descent. There was a nasty moment when he managed to turn himself upside down and fall head first but he reasoned that even if he was moving reasonably slowly when he landed, using his head as a buffer was not a good idea. He was beginning to think that his journey was never going to end when suddenly he burst out into bright sunlight and there was a grassy slope beneath him. Harry was falling slightly faster than he had imagined and as the ground rose to meet him he rolled as he landed hoping to lessen the impact. He still hit hard, and his breath was driven out of his body. It took him a minute or so to recover and when the pounding in his head stopped he sat up.

Wherever he was the place was beautiful, the grass was just the right shade of green, and the trees were spaced perfectly about the meadow, the hills on the horizon were exactly the right size and distance away to frame the panorama superbly. Everything was immaculate and that told Harry he was no longer in the real world. He listened intently to the entrancing sounds of the birds and other animals, and then at the furthest reach of his hearing came the call "Haaaaarrrrry! and he recognised her voice instantly.

* * *

Hermione opened her eyes, she was lying on her back, and as her vision cleared she could see the perfect blue of a cloudless sky. She tried turning her head to the left and right, it didn't seem to hurt to move it, and a broad green meadow, bounded in the distance by tall trees, swam into view. She gingerly tested the other parts of her body nothing appeared broken but there was a disquietingly dull throb in the region of her left ankle. It wasn't too bad, the ankle would just about take her weight but she wouldn't win any races on it that was for sure. Hermione hobbled over to a convenient rock and leaned back against it and took stock of her surroundings. So this was the dreamtime, it was as perfect as she had expected it to be, the only thing that wasn't perfect was that as far as she could tell she was stuck here with little hope of getting out.

It was the first time she had been in a jam without Harry or Ron around to get her out of it and the thought made her laugh. The boot was usually on the other foot, the pair of them usually relied on her to get them out of a mess, now look at her. Her laugh had a little edge of hysteria to it, for she could not imagine Ron putting himself out for her now, and Harry he could still be in that same state of despair she hadn't had the courage to help him out of. Hermione's laugh became a sob as she thought of him, it wasn't fair to Harry but she knew she just knew that if he could possibly help he would come if she called, and so she set to that task with a will.

* * *

Harry was up and running toward that cry and he was halfway down the hill before she had time to repeat it. The sound of her call was closer this time and then he saw her, leaning against a perfectly shaped rock. She had her back to him, her head was in her hands and he could see her shoulders rising and falling as she sobbed. His feet flew across the grass hushed into silence by it lushness, she didn't hear him as he closed the distance between them. The cry came again much quieter this time, as if she had given up expecting an answer, "Oh Harry if only you knew, I need you."

"So I understand," a voice said quietly from behind her. Hermione whirled around in an instant, and stood there, her brain not believing what her eyes were telling her, then moments later his arms were about her and she in turn was hanging onto him and she knew he was real. They held on to each other fiercely, neither wishing to let go,

Hermione's head was pressed into Harry's chest and he could smell the familiar fragrance of her hair. He touched her head and ran his hand down, the strands of her hair slipping between his fingers. As he repeated his caress he could hear her saying "Harry, Harry, oh Harry" and in response he hugged her tighter and kissed the top of her head, murmuring, "It's ok I'm here, I'm here."

Then Hermione lifted her head from his chest to stare up at Harry, she looked into the emerald- green eyes of her oldest friend, someone she had shared so much with, but never everything. He looked down at the tear-streaked face of a girl he had cared about for as long as he could remember but only recently had he realised that his feelings for her went much deeper than that.

In a perfect land, where time probably meant very little, it stood still. Harry bent his head down and Hermione lifted hers higher and somewhere in the middle their lips touched. The softness of her mouth melted into the firmness of his and the years of being just best friends were whisked away. Love can grow slowly or it can strike like lightening, and for Harry and Hermione friendship blossomed into love between one heartbeat and the next.