Godric's Gift

You all have my deepest apologies for my month-long hiatus. Familial and vocational duties claimed my time. I will try and get back to once a week! As I promised, this story will be finished.

Blind or Bound

Two weeks passed, and Harry slid into a routine. Up early, training and learning in The Lookout with Godric. Breakfast and classes, avoiding conversation when possible, and speaking to Hermione when she demanded it. The day after the wand weighing, he had sat and explained everything to her, and her words had stuck with him ever since. It began with his explanation of The Lookout and Godric's rationale for training Harry. He pondered, thinking back on the conversation.


"How does he know that Voldemort will be resurrected?" Hermione asked.

"Reanimated," Harry interjected, "Godric said if Voldemort's Spirit has not left the earth, then he is not dead; him taking corporeal form would constitute a reanimation, not a resurrection," Harry replied, leading to a puzzled look from Hermione. "Look, I said the same thing, and Godric insisted that I "learn to respect the proper usages of language."

"I wish I could meet him," Hermione said wistfully.

"I'm sorry, Hermione, the magic of the room is tied to the sword. I can't bring anyone in who hasn't won its allegiance." Harry replied.

"No, Harry, I understand. But, back to the topic at hand, why is Godric so confident that Voldemort will be reanimated?" Hermione asked.

"He can see through other portraits' eyes in the castle. He saw Trelawny give that prophecy last May." Harry answered.

At this, Hermione rolled her eyes, "Harry, how can you actually believe that fraud?" Hermione said incredulously.

"It was different, Hermione. I'm telling you." Harry said seriously.

"I suppose if it's good enough for one of Hogwarts' founders, who am I to question it," Hermione huffed.

"By the way, can you please tell Ron about The Lookout? Half of why he believed you put your name in the Goblet is because you had disappeared for that whole weekend. If you just told him, he'd believe you, I know it."

Harry's face darkened. There was truth to her words, but he was not ready to let go of his anger. Ron betrayed him. Ron, of all people, should trust him no matter what it looks like; that's what Harry would have done for him.

"Hermione, I did absolutely nothing wrong; I did not lie to him; I offered him my damn cloak; if he wants to be friends again, it's on him."

Hermione opened her mouth and closed it, then opened it again and said.

"Harry, you're right; you did nothing wrong. You don't owe him anything, but friends stick it out for each other even when they are being stupid."

Harry fell quiet, pondering her words.

End Flashback

She was right. Harry was not done with Ron. But he was also not done with his anger. So he avoided everyone and threw himself into his training. He had no idea what the first task was but increasing his repertoire of spells and speed of casting wouldn't hurt. Harry found the training both cathartic and exhilarating. His first three years in the magical world, he behaved like any other kid around him. Learning his assignments and goofing off. Hogwarts was an escape from his depressing life. He could be a kid. He enjoyed it. But now he was experiencing something new. In two weeks, Godric had taught him more about magic than he had learned in his first three years. He couldn't blame the professors, Snape excluded, but his newfound drive and Godric's brilliance gave Harry a refuge in the midst of the new storm life had thrown his way.

"Have you considered what Miss Granger said to you the other week?" Godric asked after Harry finished practicing the blasting curse.

"Are you following me at all hours of the day?" Harry asked.

"Heavens, no, you spend most of them in here," Godric replied, grinning.

"Hermione says a lot; you'll have to be more specific," Harry replied, deflecting.

"Cowardice is unbecoming a Gryffindor Harry," Godric responded.

"I'm not a coward," Harry said defensively.

"I know you aren't, but you are avoiding your friend rather than facing a difficult conversation," Godric said.

"There's nothing to face. I'm fine," Harry replied.

"Do not lie to yourself, Harry. It is not the worst sin but the path by which men reach the worst." Godric said.

"Fine, I'm angry," Harry spat.

Bombarda Harry shouted, utterly disintegrating the stationary dummy across the lookout.

"Ron's head is so far up his own."

"Harry," Godric interjected.

"Ron is being a git, he's supposed to be my best mate, and he betrayed me. He thought the worst of me and didn't believe me at my word. Gryffindors are loyal right? Well,, he's not." Harry said.

"Have you told him this?" Godric asked.

"No, I don't trust him; he doesn't deserve to know how I feel; he wouldn't care anyways. He's just so bloody obsessed with standing out, and he's pissed that fate keeps singling me out for its games. He has no idea what it's like." Harry said, his voice rising.

"Do you know what it's like for him?" Godric said kindly.

"A loving family, magic your whole life? Nothing to worry about but quidditch? He's living a right tragedy." Harry said with venom in his voice.

As he said them, he felt a trace of disgust within him for speaking so ill of his friend. A slight grimace appeared on his face.

"He has no woes? No insecurities? No fears?" Godric asked.

"I didn't say that," Harry replied.

"Only none that compare with yours," Godric stated.

Harry balked; Godric naming Harry's inner thoughts.

"Do you know what charity is, Harry?" Godric asked.

"Err, I suppose. Yeah, giving stuff to people in need," Harry responded.

"No, well… I suppose that can be an example; This century would call it love." Godric said. " Love is both a virtue and a paradox; it is at the center of every relationship worth having, and it is incredibly costly."

"Dumbledore says love is the most powerful of all magic," Harry replied.

"There may be hope for this school yet," Godric said. "It is as powerful as it is mysterious or perhaps even nonsensical. Love is the unyielding commitment to the good of another, and it is at its strongest when the object of one's love is, in fact, unlovable. Doing good to someone who is doing good to you is not love but justice; love is the mysterious choice to bind oneself to the good of another when they themselves do not deserve it. A choice that has the power to move mountains and change souls."

"So you want me to just overlook all that he's done? Sweep it under the rug and move on?" Harry asked somewhat incredulously.

"Heavens no, love is not blind to faults, and it certainly does not sweep them under the rug. Love is not blind, it is bound, and the more it is bound, the less it is blind. Your friendship with Mr. Weasley will not last if you ignore his betrayal. It would not be good for him or you to allow his behavior to go unchallenged. But it is a meaningless friendship if you fail to confront him. Flattery leads to ruin; the wounds of a friend can be trusted. Perhaps, he needs the commitment of his friend to become the man he ought to be."

"That's asking quite a lot," Harry said.

"Yes, it is, but what is right is rarely easy," Godric replied.

Harry fell silent, pondering what Godric had just said, unsure of what he would do regarding his redheaded friend.

Now, tell me, Harry, what have you learned from Salazar's diary? Anything you care to share?

"Godric, you would ask me to reveal Slytherin family magic? You would sully the sacred and secret bonds of kith and kin for the sake of learning your old friends' secrets?" Harry asked in his best imitation of the portrait.

"Certainly I would," Godric replied laughing, "as I am dead and only a portrait, you would not be telling any living soul, and I would be entertained."

"Good enough for me," Harry laughed. "The first half of the notebook contains all manner of warding spells and runework; the second half contains curses, hexes, and charms. It also has notes on how standard spells react to being cast in parseltongue. Apparently, certain spells are much more powerful in parseltongue, while others are more or less useless. Finally, there is a series of notes on magical rituals, their benefits, and costs."

"Fascinating," Godric replied, "have you experimented with any of these magics?"

"A few spells in class and a couple of runes. Parseltongue runes are incredibly effective at heat and cold warding, which was surprising to me as snakes are cold-blooded.

"Ahh, but you forget that Dragons are serpentine in nature," Godric interjected. "It would make sense that parselmagic would be adept at fireproofing various objects. That might be worth doing to all of your clothes. A fireproof cloak could come quite handy in a duel.

"That does make sense," Harry replied and continued. "Other than that, the summoning charm Accio works in both Latin and parseltongue. I tried it in charms. However, it seems to work better for me in parseltongue.

The rituals are all dependent on the seasons and star positions; Salazar seems to stress that such rituals are not to be taken lightly, and even if I were interested, I could not do anything until Yule. As I am not sure I will survive till then, I considered them not worth my immediate attention.

"That is wise. Sacrificial magic is powerful and dangerous, not to be approached lightly. Let's get through the first task, and then we can discuss it further." Godric replied. "Are there any spells of note you would like to try in here?"

Harry smiled brightly and pulled out his wand. "Several, but one, in particular, looked quite interesting. It's called, well, I am not sure how to translate it, aconda? Maybe?"

Godric looked interested and nodded towards the training area, where one of the dummies sprung to life.

Harry hissed an incantation and jabbed his wand toward the training dummy. From his wand sprang a rush of emerald green energy in the form of a serpent coiling itself around the dummy, binding it in place and holding it in an ethereal grip. Harry focused his magic, and slowly the energy around the dummy squeezed, crushing it.

"Not sure you should cast that one in a friendly duel," Godric remarked.

Harry nodded, shocked by the power of the spell he had just cast.


Harry left The Lookout exhausted from the magical expenditure but excited about the day's progress. He was astounded at the ease at which he was able to cast the parselmagic spells. They came so naturally to him as if his magic was finally being cast in its native language. Godric was thrilled at this development but cautioned Harry about using these spells in classes; they'd raise more questions than Harry would want to answer. Lost in thought, Harry found his feet walking him to the Great Hall, a place he had studiously avoided since his name had come out of the Goblet of Fire. Unfortunately, four years of habit were not overridden by his two weeks of avoidance, and Harry found himself walking to the Gryffindor table before he realized what he was doing; far too late to turn around without making a scene, so he pressed ahead.

"Harry, it's nice to see you here," Katie said kindly, beckoning him to join her at the table.

"Thanks, Katie," Harry replied, nodding at her, Angelena, and Alicia. He took a seat to the right of Katie, facing the other two girls across the table.

"And how is our youngest champion doing this fine November evening?" Katie asked in a faux-pompous voice.

"Having the time of my life." He responded after a pause.

"Do you enjoy avoiding us so much? I haven't seen you in here in days?" Angelina chimed in.

"Angelina, we've had this conversation before," Alicia chimed in, "sometimes people say the opposite of what they mean for comedic effect or to relieve tension; it's called sarcasm."

Katie laughed, and Angelina rolled her eyes.

"Hanging in there, ok Harry? Angelina is right; I haven't seen you since dropping you off at the wand-weighing thing." Alicia asked sympathetically.

"I've spent just about every hour practicing for whatever task they will put me up for next week. I don't fancy dying or making a fool of myself, although the latter is probably inevitable." Harry responded grimly.

"Still keeping up the golden boy act?" Draco Malfoy sneered, striding over from the Slytherin table. "We all know you're a cheat; may as well keep something of your dignity and own it." Draco finished gesturing to a badge on his robes. The badge in question showed Harry making an unflattering face with the word CHEAT in bold letters across his forehead. His trademark scar forming part of the H. "Anyone from Gryffindor care for a badge?" Draco asked.

"Shove off, Malfoy." Came a voice Harry had not heard in two weeks from down the table.

"Weasel, I'm wounded; I was going to offer you a badge for free, given your family's financial situation. I even heard there was trouble in paradise between you and your precious Potter." Malfoy said.

"Go, bugger yourself, Malfoy, Ron spat. Leaving his seat and squaring up to the blonde.

"Boys, what is going on here," Professor McGonagall interjected.

"Nothing, professor," Malfoy drawled, slinking back towards the Slytherin table.

"Ten points from Slytherin for not wearing your proper uniform. Take that ridiculous badge off; you are embarrassing yourself and this school in front of our international guests." McGonagall scolded.

Malfoy looked utterly gobsmacked, returning to the Slytherin table. Clearly unused to this sort of treatment by the staff.

"Brilliant, Professor," Ron said absentmindedly.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for your earlier language," McGonagall said curtly as she returned to the staff table.

Ron shook his head at the retreating professor. "Can't she act like Snape just once?" Ron said, smiling, not truly mad at the loss of points.

Harry laughed without thinking, catching Ron's attention. He settled himself somewhat quickly, feeling a myriad of emotions rising to his chest.

"Err, thanks for speaking up for me," Harry offered, unsure how to deal with the situation.

"Malfoy's a ponce," Ron replied.

"No doubt," Harry replied.

"I'm headed to Hagrids a bit later. Would you want to come?" Ron said, somewhat strained.

Harry was taken aback by this, and he couldn't recall Ron ever showing much interest in Hagrid apart from his or Hermione's insistence. Curiosity peaked. Harry nodded.

"Great, meet me in the common room and, err, bring a cloak he finished with a serious look."


With a small amount of trepidation, Harry made his way down to the common room, looking for Ron. He scanned the familiar room and felt his temper rising when he did not find him. Was Ron trying to have him on? Harry calmed himself, thinking on his conversations with Hermione and Godric. Instead, he pulled a piece of parchment out of the pocket of his robes and whispered, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good."

Scanning the map, Harry quickly found Ron's name, pacing back and forth in the entrance hall. Shaking his head, he made his way down to the entrance hall to find out what his friend wanted.

Several minutes later, Harry approached Ron in a hallway adjacent to the hall. As curfew had long past Ron was nervously looking around his shoulders, hoping not to run across a prefect. Harry cut right to the chase, not in the mood to play a prank.

"Ron, didn't you tell me to meet you in the common room? What happened? Harry asked.

Ron's eyes widened in realization, clearly having forgotten the instructions he had given Harry a few hours before. "Sorry, Harry, with everything, I just forgot," Ron replied.

"Fair enough; why are you wanting to visit Hagrid at this time of night," Harry asked, throwing his cloak around Ron and leading him out of the castle to the grounds.

"I don't. I just couldn't tell you what I actually needed to show you with everyone around in the Great Hall."

"So we aren't going to Hagrid's?" Harry asked, confused.

Ron shook his head. "No, we need to go a little way into the forest. That's where Charlie is; his job brought him here for the tournament.

Why would the Triwizard tournament need a dragon handler? Harry asked, fearing he knew the answer already.

"I needed you to know; I wanted to show you, regardless of why you didn't tell me, I couldn't let you face a dragon without warning," Ron said.

Ron's comment passed almost unnoticed by Harry. His mind fixed upon the task that was going to be ahead of him. After a few moments, he realized what Ron had said and replied.

Ron, I did not enter, I've no idea why you don't believe me, but it is the truth. I don't want to argue; I appreciate you telling me regardless; it's good to know you have my back even when you're being daft." Harry replied.

They walked in silence for several minutes, the moonlight flittering over the undergrowth of the trees. Ron's face scrunched at Harry's reply, but his mind seemed to be elsewhere.

"I never wanted to come back here," Ron eventually said. His face paling in the moonlight

Harry was confused by his reply, then, remembering their second year, he recalled their ill-fated adventure involving acromantulas and a Ford Angelina. Harry chuckled at the memory but his reminiscing was cut short by an earsplitting roar.

"STUNNERS" came a shout from a clearing they came upon.

Ten wizards threw stunning charms at an enraged dragon, scales black as night, bellowing fire into the direction of the wizards attempting to subdue it. Harry's heart began pounding and became as pale as the redhead with whom he was sharing the invisibility cloak.

"Bloody hell," Ron exclaimed as he took in the scene.

Four dragons were caged in a clearing surrounded by a translucent dome. Three seemed to be resting peacefully, while the fourth was raging against the cage where it was held. As the stunning spells impacted it, it seemed to slump down in its cage momentarily, only to spring back once again with a vengeance.

"Again," a voice cried, and another volley of red spells went hurtling towards the beast, this time producing the desired effect.

"Why the hell did the ministry ask for another dragon on such short notice, and who the hell's idea was it to make it a Horntail." One of the dragon handlers shouted in frustration.

"This Horntail was the only nesting mother left in the conservatory. Pity the champion who has to face her," came a reply from one of the other handlers.

Harry was in shock, looking at the beast as the danger of the tournament came into focus. Would he lose his magic by refusing to compete? Was his life worth his magic? He dismissed the thought as quickly as it came. If Voldemort came back and Harry was without his magic, he was as good as dead anyways.

Harry shook his head, not wanting to think about the Dark Lord and a dragon at the same time. How was he going to face a dragon? His dueling skills had grown considerably, but he had been practicing spells for duels not to hold off mythical beasts. What on earth was he going to do? Harry pondered this for several moments, totally unaware of anything around him save the images of the great beasts he would face in a little over a week's time. An interjection from Ron broke his musing.

"Harry, we have to move; they are coming this way."

Harry snapped back into attention, recognizing the dragon tamer's walking as a group towards the path he and Ron were currently standing in. Harry looked at Ron; they both nodded and awkwardly shuffled into a thicket adjacent to the trail they had entered on. Careful not to snag the invisibility cloak, Harry and Ron sidled deeper into the forest, Harry leading the way. His focus was on his feet, not wanting to trip on the underbrush that was thickening the further they moved from the path. The voices of the dragon handlers were growing louder, causing Harry to look back and ensure that they had not been seen. Upon glancing back, he noticed Ron's eyes widen in surprise, looking at something over Harry's shoulder.

When Harry turned around, he saw none other than Igor Kakaroff twenty paces ahead.

Without thinking, Harry flicked his wand into his hand and cast a silencing charm on them both. Signaling Ron to stay quiet with a finger over his lips. Kakakroff was looking curiously in their direction, but he had not seen them as of yet.

Harry flicked his wand towards some leaves ten paces to their right, snapping Kakaroff's attention away from where he and Ron were. Then, after a moment, he continued past them, creeping towards the dragon enclosure. Not speaking a word to each other, Harry and Ron crept carefully back to the forest's edge. When they saw no one around, Harry removed the silencing charm and the cloak, and they faced each other.

"Was that the Durmstrang headmaster?" Ron asked, realizing he could speak.

Harry nodded gravely, speech not coming to him.

"Bloody hell, mate," Ron said, unable to think of words.

Bloody hell was right.

"Glad I didn't try to enter, not that the invisibility cloak would have worked anyways," Ron said, looking slightly apologetic.

Harry smiled weakly at him. His mind dwelling on the look of rage on the face of that black dragon.

"Harry, did you enter? Don't get mad; it's just, you disappeared that weekend and hadn't really talked to us. All that stuff was going on with the hat, and it seemed like you were, once again, at the center of something, and I sort of lost it."

"No, Ron, I didn't," Harry replied.

"I'm sorry." Ron offered. "I'm a crap friend," he finished.

Harry looked at him and opened his mouth to reply, then closed it, catching a glimpse of the Whomping Willow in the background. Memories flooded in of Ron standing on a broken leg between Harry and Sirius when they thought him a murderer.

"No, you're not; you just get thick when angry or jealous," Harry replied.

Ron flushed but nodded. "I'm sorry, mate."

"I forgive you," Harry said.


A/N: Sometimes, I think JK was working out some of her frustration with the male gender in the character of Ron. Honestly, he is one of the most believable teenagers in the series. While he won't feature heavily in this story, I wanted to explore what reconciliation might have looked like between the pair. Let me know what you think! A conversation with Fleur and the First Task is next!