So... This has popped into my mind after I watched the eight HP films in a row in a matter of two days. Let's see how it goes, shall we?
I shall write this story by taking in account what happens and is said in both the books AND the films. So while the development will most likely follow canon for now, things will change slowly but surely.
A warning, this story contains:
-Harry/Four girls (who have already been selected)
-Good but misguided Dumbledore
-Some Weasley bashing, but not too much.
-Slowly becoming Indifferent Snape.
-And a certain number of other things that you shall see as the story progresses.
I do not own Harry Potter. If I did, Harry wouldn't have been so dumb in the 6th book. I do not own the 'Tales of' franchise either.
Spirits, are entities that the wizarding world had, until recently, next to no knowledge about. They have always been the stuff of legends or fairy tales. Until a few years, the biggest piece of information we had about them was that King Arthur's sword and its sheath were blessed by the Fae. However, there were never any sighting of the Fae. After all, how could one meet beings that have been hiding for centuries, if not millenias? No one, not even I, know how or why Spirits chose to disappear, but it's a fact that, one way or another, most records of what we knew about those beings were lost. I have no doubts that, had I not met a Spirit when I did, they would still be confined as, at best, a very obscure mystery or, at worst, something belonging to the Dark Arts.
But that isn't the case anymore, for in this age, Spirits and Wizards now coexist in a peaceful harmony.
My name is Hadrian James Maxwell – Potter – Black - Peverell, Lord of Spirits, Heir to the Hogwarts' founders and Master of the Deathly Hallows.
But you can call me Harry.
"Together we could do extraordinary things. Just... give me the stone."
Harry's mind was racing.
He was caught between a rock and a hard place. Behind him, flames, in front of him, Quirrell and Voldemort. He knew that even should he manage to avoid the worst of the flames that the man -men?- in front of him would be upon him in seconds. As for facing Quirrell/Voldemort -Quirellmort?- head on, that was suicide. Harry knew he was no match for a an adult wizard, the few hexes that he knew would be next to useless and he had no doubt that his opponent would annihilate him in seconds.
His hand tightened around the stone in his pocket.
He had no choice. If he gave the stone to Quirrellmort, the Dark Lord would come back to life, and Merlin knew what would happen if he did. No. His only option would be to fight, however slim were his chances of victory.
Harry slowly took the stone from his pocket, bringing it in front of him.
"Thats it, Harry..." Voldemort hissed in content from the back of Quirrell's head. "There is no good or evil. There is only power. And those too weak to seek it."
Harry looked back and forth between the stone and Quirrel a few times. "You're right." he replied. "Maybe there is no good or evil." He could feel Voldemort smiling at that, but he wasn't finished yet. "Maybe there is, indeed, only power and what you make of it. It doesn't matter if a spell is considered Dark or evil. What matters, is your intent behind it. And if there's one thing I know for sure, it's that your intentions, are less than good!" he shouted before raising the hand that was holding the stone above him, ready to throw it to the ground "I would rather destroy the stone than let you have it!"
Voldemort hissed in anger. "Kill him!" he ordered.
Faster than Harry could see, Quirrell's wand appeared in his hand and he pointed it at him. "Avada Kedavra!"
Harry knew he should move out of the way, jump aside, anything to avoid the spell that was racing toward him. But he couldn't. His limbs and muscles were locked as he gazed at the familiar green light.
The light that killed his mother.
And so the Killing Curse hit him.
Or did it, really?
What neither Harry or Quirrell had foreseen, was that Harry's arms, the right one which hand was still holding the stone, moved in front of him to shield himself. It was a conditioned reflex from the years of abuse he had endured at the Dursley's, something he was beyond his control.
The Killing Curse hit the stone, fragmenting it into four fragments in Harry's hand. Those fragments pierced his hand, embedding themselves into his flesh as Harry fell down in a cry of pain.
"YOU FOOL!" Harry heard Voldemort shout. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!"
"F-forgive me, m-master!" Quirrell said in a pained and panicked voice. "B-but surely we can s-still use it!"
"I hope for you that you can." the Dark Lord hissed.
Harry moaned in pain. It was hurting so much. But Quirrelmort was approaching, and he couldn't let him get the stone.
But what can I do? He wondered. He was feeling so weak, as if all his strength had left his body. But he had to do something. Anything.
For the first time in the seven years that he was abused by his relatives, Harry called for help.
And his magic answered.
In his hand, the shards of the stone pulsed. The Philosopher's Stone is an artifact that is said to bypass the law of equivalent exchange in alchemy, allowing it to change any metal into gold, create a body from nothing, allowing one to live forever, ect...
But then, why is it also called the Sorcerer's Stone? The answer to this question, is that the stone is capable of other miracles than alchemical ones. It has the power to grant a wizard or a witch's wishes as long as his or her magic is enough to fuel the stone the energy it needs to realize that wish.
As Harry wished for help, his magic answered his plight by giving the shards of the stone the power they needed to grant that wish. Even broken, the stone still retained its powers, which meant all of its fragments would grant Harry's wish. They would summon help for the boy.
As the fragments adsorbed both Harry's magic and blood, they pulsed, and began to glow. First softly, then it started to become more pronounced, growing stronger and stronger until the light coming from Harry's hand was almost blinding and each pulse of power made the room tremble. No one saw Harry's scar bursting open and let out a thick foul and black liquid onto the stairs before it faded and left only a white line in the shape of a lightning bolt.
"Kill him!" Voldemort shouted, having realized what was happening. "Kill him NOW!"
Quirrell once more raised his wand, ready to end the boy's life once and for all, but he was too late.
The stone shards disintegrated in Harry's hand and four spheres of light shot from it to ram into Quirrellmort, sending the possessed man away with a cry of pain. Then, the spheres went back to Harry, hovering slowly over his now unconscious form as they pulsed softly. They were each of a different color. One red, one blue, one green and one brown.
Quirrellmort however, was not done as he rose to his feet. "What is this magic?!" he shouted as he advanced once more to end Harry's life.
"You shall not harm him." came a powerful voice that made the man stop in his tracks.
"Who are you?!" he demanded as he gazed warily at the four lights.
The spheres pulsed once more before they slowly began to change form.
The blue one became a woman resembling a mermaid. But where merpeople had green skin and scales, this one had a white skin and no scales at all. The rest of her body was in various shades of blue, from her hair to her tail. In her hand was a spear.
The red one formed into some sort of crimson giant, with intricate designs all over its body and some flame like appendages on its arms and back. It looked powerful, if nothing else.
The green one shifted into a fairy-like form with long straight hair that divided into two wing-like tails, as if for aerodynamic purposes. It wearing what looked like aviator goggles and jacket, along with a mini jean and what seemed to be feathered boots.
The brown one transformed into an animal that looked like a puppy, only it had very large hand-like hair that looked like it was made of clay. The being was also sprawled on a large stone sphere that was bigger than it was.
Together, the four beings stood between the unconscious boy and the one seeking his death.
"Spirits." Voldemort hissed. "The boy summoned Spirits to him. But how?!"
For all the knowledge he had accumulated before his demise, the Dark Lord had never been able to find any real information on how to contact Spirits, much less summon them. But if there was one thing he knew about them, it was that Spirits who could take a corporeal form were very powerful.
"Begone, abomination. Should you raise your hand against our Lord once more, we shall show no mercy." The red one spoke in the same powerful voice as before.
For a moment, silence followed that declaration. Then, Quirrell pointed his wand at the Spirits. "Out of my way, creatures! Avada-"
"Wait! Don't-" Voldemort tried to stop his servant but he was too late.
Just as Quirrell was about to fire the Killing Curse, the crimson giant opened its mouth to spit a fireball at him, forcing the man to jump back in order to avoid the attack. Then, the three other spirits took action. From the blue one came a stream of water that blasted Quirrell's wand away, from the brown one came three stone spikes that pinned him to the wall. Finally, from the green one, a crescent blade of green energy decapitated him before he could try anything.
As the four spirits took their place beside their summoners once more, Quirrellmort's body started to fall apart, smoking and burning until there was nothing but ashes and robes of what used to be a man.
Then, from the ashes, a shade rose, glaring hatefully at the ones that had killed his servant. "You will regret this, Spirits. Mark my words." it said before flying away. The four simply watched the shade flee the castle before they turned to the unconscious boy who had summoned them.
"Is this boy truly our summoner?" the green fairy asked. "I have trouble believing he managed such a feat on his own."
"Perhaps he had assistance." the blue mermaid replied. "But there is no mistake, we are bonded to him."
"Such a burden for one so young." the brown puppy added sadly. "But when have the Fates ever been fair to the world?"
"We do not have time to dwell on such things." the crimson giant said. "Our Lord needs rest. We can talk about this once he's awake. There is a lot to be done."
The four spirits nodded before they reverted to spheres of light and converged into Harry's body. It was fortunate -or perhaps unfortunate- for him that he would stay unconscious for the next three days.
After all, he had no idea how much he life was about to change.
When Harry slowly opened his eyes, the first thing he did was assess his surroundings.
White room? Check. Strange smell? Check. Unnatural quiet? Check. White linen sheets? Check.
This was definitely the Hospital Wing.
"Ah. Finally awake, I see?" came a voice and Harry turned to find Albus Dumbledore just entering the hospital wing as he made his way toward his bed.
"Headmaster." Harry greeted as he sat up on his bed. Only at this point did he see what looked like a mountain of get-well gifts at the feet of his bed and his eyes widened. Was all of this really for him?
"Tokens of your friends and admirers." Dumbledore answered his silent question. "What
happened down in the dungeons between you and Professor Quirrell is a complete secret, so, naturally, the whole school knows. I believe your friends Misters Fred and George Weasley were responsible for trying to send you a toilet seat. No doubt they thought it would amuse you. Madam Pomfrey, however, felt it might not be very hygienic, and confiscated it."
Harry could only blink in confusion. Admirers? Aside from maybe Neville and the Quiditch Team, he didn't see who could have brought him this. Deciding to keep that in mind for later, he changed the subject. "Sir, what happened exactly? And how long have I been here?" he asked before his eyes widened in panic. "Sir! The stone! He has the stone! Quirrell has the stone! We-"
Dumbledore immediately raised a hand to silence him. "Calm yourself, Harry. The threat is gone. Both Quirrell and the stone are no more." he said and Harry let out a sigh of relief as he let himself fall back on his bed. "You've been here for three days now. As for what happened, I was hoping you could tell me." The Headmaster continued.
Harry frowned slightly. "What do you mean, sir? Aren't you the one who saved me?"
Dumbledore shook his head. "I'm afraid not, dear boy. When I arrived, I found you unconscious and the room looked like a war had taken place inside it. Quirrell was dead and there was no sign of the stone whatsoever. Can you tell me what happened before you fainted?"
Harry's frown deepened as he focused. "I had the stone, that much I remember." he replied. "Then, Voldemort... he was possessing Quirrel, sir. He tried to make me give him the stone. I refused. And Quirrell... he used a curse on me." there, Harry swallowed. "Avada something. I remember moving my arms in front of me. After that..." he shook his head. "nothing."
Dumbledore hummed in thought as his fingers stroke his beard. "I believe I know what happened." he said, before continuing at Harry's questioning look. "The curse probably hit the stone and provoked a magical explosion, knocking you out and destroying Quirrell's already weak body. That would explain why your hand was in such a bad state when I found you." he pointed at Harry's bandaged right hand.
Harry nodded before he realized something. "Sir, but if the stone was destroyed, that means- Nicolas Flamel-"
Dumbledore nodded sadly. "We've had a little chat, and decided it was for the best. Of course, he and his wife will die, but they still have enough Elixir to last another few years and set their affairs in order."
Harry looked at his hands in guilt. It was his fault the stone was destroyed, he felt. Then, Dumbledore laid a hand on his and he looked up to see the Headmaster smiling. "Do not mourn them, Harry. They have lived for a very, very long time and I'm sure that they are content of the life they had. To Nicolas and Perenelle, it will only seem as if they were going to bed only to never wake up."
Harry nodded slowly, at loss for words before he remembered something. "Sir, what about Hermione and Ron? Are they both okay?"
Dumbledore smiled as he nodded. "Mr Weasley and Miss Granger were cleared two days ago and they have been quite worried you." then, his eyes widened as if he just remembered something. "By the way..." he put a hand in his robes and took from them a completely broken pair of spectacles. "I'm afraid your glasses were also destroyed by the stone's explosion."
Harry's hand flew to his face, only to make him realize that he, indeed, didn't have his glasses on his nose. "But I see just fine! Better, even! How-"
"Maybe the stone's explosion didn't have only bad consequences, after all?" Dumbledore interrupted him with a smile. "According to Madam Pomfrey, there shouldn't be any side effects."
"Wicked." was only thing that came to Harry's mind.
"And it seems that it also treated your scar." The headmaster continued, pointing at Harry's head. "It has pretty much faded now. I expect it will remain here for the rest of your life, but it's not nearly as visible as it was before."
Gently, Harry traced the scar on his forehead and was quite surprised to find smooth flesh as opposed to the angry red wound-like scar that had been there all his life. A quick look at a mirror conjured by Dumbledore showed that the famous scar was, indeed, all but gone. Harry could only look at his forehead, mouth slightly opened as tears of joy went down his cheeks. It was as if a huge load had been drooped off his shoulders.
Blinking, Harry raised a hand to wipe his eyes. When was the last time I cried? He couldn't remember. He hadn't even shed tears when he had seen his parents inside the Mirror of Erised but now, it was like it wouldn't stop, no matter how much he tried to wipe away the tears. And so he cried. He cried for his parents, he cried for the years of abuse he had suffered at the hands of the Dursleys. He cried for all the times he had repressed his tears.
A couple of minutes and a few tissues later, Harry fell back into his bed, exhausted.
"Are you alright, Harry?" Dumbledore asked softly.
Harry nodded silently and silence ensued for a moment. Then, "Sir?"
"Now that the stone is gone, do you think Voldemort's gone for good?" Harry asked.
Dumbledore looked at him for a moment before sighing. "No, Harry, I don't think so." he replied. " I believe he is still out there somewhere, perhaps looking for another body to share... not being truly alive, he cannot truly be killed either. He left Quirrell to die; he shows just as little mercy to his followers as his enemies. Nevertheless, Harry, while you may only have delayed his return to power, he may also never return to power."
Harry nodded, then asked."Sir, there are some other things I'd like to know, if you can tell me... things I want to know the truth about..."
"The truth." Dumbledore sighed again. "It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution. However, I shall answer your questions unless I have a very good reason not to, in which case I beg you'll forgive me. I shall not, of course, lie."
Harry took a deep breath. "Well... Voldemort said that he only killed my mother because she tried to stop him from killing me. But why would he want to kill me in the first place?"
Dumbledore sighed very deeply this time. "Alas, the first thing you ask me, I cannot tell you. Not today. Not now. You will know, one day... put it from your mind for now, Harry. When you are older... I know you hate to hear this... when you are ready, you will know."
Harry was too tired to argue right now, so he simply nodded. "And sir, one more thing."
"Just one, really?" Dumbledore said with a smile.
Harry rolled his eyes tiredly. "How did I get the stone out of the mirror?"
Dumbledore's smile widened. "Ah, now, I'm glad you asked me that. It was one of my more brilliant ideas, and between you and me, that's saying something. You see, only one who wanted to find the Stone - find it, but not use it - would be able to get it, otherwise they'd just see themselves making gold or drinking Elixir of Life. My brain surprises even me sometimes..." he explained before clapping his hands and stood up. "Now, enough questions. I suggest you make a start on these sweets." he said as he took a box from the pile. "Ah! Bettie Bott's Every Flavor Beans! I was unfortunate enough in my youth to come across a vomit flavored one, and since then I'm afraid I've rather lost my liking for them - but I think I'll be safe with a nice toffee, don't you?" He smiled and popped the golden-brown bean into his mouth.
Then he choked "Alas! Ear wax!"
Harry chuckled as he closed his eyes and fell asleep once more.
When Harry opened his eyes again, it was to find himself looking at a clear blue sky with a few white clouds drifting. It was quiet and peaceful, something rarely found in his life.
Where am I? He wondered.
"Oh look, he's awake." an unfamiliar voice said close to him.
Harry's eyes went up to find four... beings looking down at him. At loss for words and not knowing what to do, he simply looked back.
"Are you sure? He doesn't look very much awake to me." one of them, huge and red, spoke in a deep voice.
"Hum... maybe he's simply surprised? You can never tell with humans." a short green one responded, putting a hand on its -his?- chin.
"What do you think we should do?" a small, almost animal-like, brown and white one asked, tilting its head at Harry.
"Be nice, everyone." the last one, a blue woman chided and he recognized her as the one who had first spoken. "Hello there, little one. May we know your name?" she asked him in a soft voice.
Harry blinked twice before answering. "My name is Harry Potter." he answered, looking at each being in turn. "Who are you guys?"
The four beings took turns in answering his question.
"I am Efreet, Emperor of the Flames, Great Spirit of Fire." the crimson giant answered.
"I am Sylph, Mistress of Gales, Great Spirit of Wind." the green fairy followed.
"I am Gnome, Ruler of the Land, Great Spirit of Earth." the brown animal said next.
"And I am Undine, Empress of the Seas, Great Spirit of Water." the blue and white lady finished.
"We have come in response to your summons. We ask of you, are you our Lord?" they said in unison.
Harry blinked once. Twice. Then rapidly before saying the only thing that came to his mind.
"What the hell is going on?"
So... here it is. I'm done for the first chapter and even though I have a pretty much clear outline of what I'm gonna do, there are still a lot of variables to take care of.
I'll say it now, I don't plan to make Harry a powerhouse immediately. That will be for the end.
To those wondering how the Four look like, just look for the Great Spirits of Tales of Xillia.
Did you enjoy it? Or maybe is it too bland? Do leave a review to give me your impressions.