Consequences of Gifts

"Harry!" Nicolas' worried face appeared at the opening above. "Don't move - we're stabilizing the chamber!"

Harry looked up, absently stroking the cub's fur. "I'm fine, Uncle Nicolas. I found someone here, but it's not dangerous…" His voice carried an unusual melodic quality for just a moment, making Nicolas pause briefly before continuing his spellwork.

The chamber walls groaned as magic poured through ancient channels, forcing the structure to hold its shape. Greek wizards in official-looking robes rushed around the edges above, casting stabilization charms while arguing in rapid-fire Greek about "seal degradation" and "temporal anomalies."

"The Nemean cub!" Alexandros appeared next to Nicolas, his eyes wide. "How did you... no, never mind that now. Can you reach the rope ladder?"

A steel ladder unfurled from above. Harry secured the cub carefully against his chest with one arm, noting how naturally it settled there, as if they'd always been meant to find each other. As he climbed, he felt the last traces of Pythia's visions fading from his mind, leaving only the faint ability to See those scattered motes of possibility.

Harry climbed the final rungs into what appeared to be a massive circular chamber filled with marble pillars. Greek wizards were working frantically at various points along the walls, their wands trailing lines of light that seemed to stabilize the enchanted stone itself.

"A Nemean Lion cub," one of the officials breathed, lowering his wand. "And it's... bonded to you?"

Harry nodded, still cradling the cub. "We found each other down there. I healed its leg."

"Extraordinary," Alexandros moved closer, studying the pair. "Nemean Lions haven't been seen in centuries, let alone as familiars. The bond itself should be impossible - their pride makes them resist such connections."

"The boy is exceptional," Nicolas said quietly, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Though I'd very much like to know how you ended up down there, child."

Several officials gathered around as Harry explained about finding the entrance, carefully leaving out any mention of his Hero's Journal. When he described the battle with the marble serpents - how they could transmute their size and petrify with a touch - Alexandros actually dropped his wand.

"Impossible," one of the Greek wizards muttered. "Marble Serpents are guardian constructs, barely more dangerous than animated statues. But what you're describing..."

"Living stone," another official finished. "True Marble Serpents from the ancient times. They were said to guard the Oracle's most precious secrets."

Harry shifted the cub in his arms with a delicate touch. "There seemed to be lots of old scrolls down there," he said with a soft smile, swaying slightly as he spoke. "All about the true history of Magical Greece..."

The officials exchanged excited looks, but Nicolas was watching Harry carefully. "And did you see anything else unusual down there?"

"Just old chambers and corridors," Harry said easily. The cub bumped its head against his chin, as if in agreement. "Though everything's a bit blurry after fighting the snakes. I was pretty tired."

"The boy needs rest," Perenelle stepped forward, clearly not accepting anything other than agreement. "You can excavate your historical treasures after he's had a proper meal and sleep."

The Greek officials looked ready to protest, but one look at the Flamels' firm expressions changed their minds. After a brief discussion, they agreed Harry could keep the cub - partly due to the already-formed familiar bond, partly due to the Flamels' reputation, and largely because no one wanted to try separating a Nemean Lion from its chosen companion.

The Flamels took Harry to their home through an emergency portkey, leaving the Greek officials to their frenzied documentation of the chambers. The cub remained calm during the transport, as if magical travel was perfectly natural for an ancient magical creature.

"You should rest," Perenelle said, guiding Harry toward his room. "We can discuss everything tomorrow."

Harry nodded, feeling strangely disconnected from his own movements. The motes of possibility still drifted at the edges of his vision, but they seemed... different now. Darker somehow, though he couldn't explain why.

"The cub will need food," Nicolas said thoughtfully. "I believe we have some preserved griffin meat that might-"

"Raw venison," Harry interrupted, then blinked in surprise at his own certainty. "She... prefers it fresh." He wasn't sure how he knew that, or when he'd decided the cub was female.

Nicolas and Perenelle exchanged a quick glance.

"I'll fetch some from the market," Perenelle said carefully. "Why don't you get settled in your room? Nicolas can help ward it properly for your new friend."

Harry climbed the stairs, the cub padding silently beside him. His room felt different somehow - the paintings on the walls seemed to shift slightly when he wasn't looking directly at them. Or perhaps he was just tired.

"We'll need to name you," he told the cub as she explored his room. "Something fitting for what you truly are..."

He trailed off, frowning. What had he meant by that?

oo0ooOoo0oo

After making sure Harry's room was well-protected in case the cub tried to harm him - though it seemed remarkably well-behaved - Nicolas descended to his study. Perenelle was already there, organizing her thoughts while preparing a fresh pot of tea.

"Something's different about him," Nicolas said quietly, settling into his favorite armchair. "The way he speaks sometimes... it's almost like..."

"Like someone else's words are mixing with his own?" Perenelle finished, handing him a steaming cup. "I noticed. And that business with the cub - knowing exactly what it needs, as if the knowledge was simply placed in his mind."

Nicolas took a slow sip, considering. "The chamber shouldn't have opened for him at all. Those spells were clearly designed to keep out anyone who wasn't..." he paused, then continued more carefully, "who lacked certain qualities."

"You mean anyone who wasn't her," Perenelle said bluntly. "We both know what those chambers were really built to contain, Nicolas. The question is, why did they open now? And for a child?"

Nicolas set down his cup with a slight frown. "Did you notice how he described finding the entrance? Following carved patterns, using his breath to activate them? That's not something a seven-year-old should intuitively understand, no matter how brilliant."

"And the marble serpents," Perenelle added. "True living stone, not mere constructs. They haven't awakened in..." she trailed off, looking troubled.

"Not since she was sealed," Nicolas finished quietly. "The question is whether they awakened to stop him, or to test him."

Perenelle stood and walked to the window, watching the stars twinkle in the darkening sky. "Do you remember what Alexandros said? About the failing protective charms around in the ruins of Delphi?"

"You think they weren't failing at all," Nicolas said. "They were being deliberately weakened."

"By something that wanted to be found." Perenelle turned back to her husband. "But found by whom? And why a child?"

"I've already checked for the obvious," Nicolas said, rubbing his temples. "No direct possession, no direct influence on his mind, nothing that I could find. Whatever happened down there was far more subtle."

Nicolas traced the rim of his teacup thoughtfully. "Do you remember Alexandria? 1732?"

"The temple incident?" Perenelle's eyes widened slightly. "With the possessed priestess who spoke in ancient tongues?"

"We thought we understood ancient magic then too," Nicolas said quietly. "Spent decades studying those ruins, thought we knew everything. And yet..."

"We nearly died," Perenelle finished. "Because we assumed ancient magic would work like modern magic."

"Exactly." Nicolas stood and walked to one of his bookshelves, running his fingers along leather-bound spines. "The Oracles of Ancient Greece didn't think of magic the way we do. To them, power wasn't just about spells and rituals. It was about..." he paused, selecting a particularly old tome.

"Resonance," Perenelle said. "The way all things echo through time."

"And space," Nicolas added, flipping through brittle pages. "Here - look at this passage about the original Oracle."

Perenelle moved to read over his shoulder, frowning at the ancient Greek text. "It says she wasn't just a prophet, but a... nexus? That can't be right."

"The translation is tricky," Nicolas agreed. "But I think it's suggesting she was a focal point where different kinds of magic naturally gathered. Not just divination, but..."

A soft thump from upstairs interrupted them. They both looked up, listening intently, but only silence followed.

"The cub," Perenelle said. "Probably just settling in."

Nicolas nodded, but his expression remained troubled. "We need to be careful how we proceed. If what I suspect is happening..." he trailed off, then shook his head. "No, best not to even voice it yet. We need more information."

"Should we tell Albus?"

"Not yet," Nicolas decided after a moment. "Let's observe first. The boy seems stable enough, and whatever happened down there isn't obviously harmful. If we raise alarms too quickly..."

"We could make things worse," Perenelle agreed. "But we should set up some monitoring charms. Subtle ones."

"Already done," Nicolas smiled slightly. "The moment I warded his room. Though..." his smile faded. "I'm not entirely certain they'll work as intended."

Perenelle returned to her seat, picking up her cooling tea. "We could be overreacting. Perhaps it's simply another… gift affecting his behavior."

"Perhaps," Nicolas agreed, though his tone suggested he didn't believe it. "But there's something else bothering me. The timing."

"How so?"

"Think about it - protective charms failing, ancient creatures appearing, sealed chambers opening... all just when a uniquely gifted child arrives in Delphi?" Nicolas shook his head. "That's not coincidence. That's..."

"Resonance," Perenelle whispered. "Like calling to like across time itself."

They sat in silence for a moment, considering the implications.

"We'll need to be subtle," Nicolas finally said. "Whatever is happening, confronting it directly could be disastrous. We need to guide him, protect him, while we figure out exactly what we're dealing with."

"And hope," Perenelle added softly, "that we're not already too late."

Nicolas closed the journal with a sigh. "We need more eyes on this. Not Albus yet, but..."

"Alexandros?" Perenelle suggested. "He knows the old magics of Delphi better than anyone."

"No," Nicolas shook his head. "He's too close to it. Did you notice how excited he was about the chambers opening? He'd want to study everything immediately, consequences be damned." He traced a pattern on his teacup thoughtfully. "I was thinking of Mohan."

"The hermit?" Perenelle raised an eyebrow. "He hasn't left his cave in the Nilgiris in decades."

"Exactly. He's removed enough to be objective, but experienced enough to recognize ancient magic at work. And he owes me a favor from that business with the naga temple in 1843..."

oo0ooOoo0oo

Upstairs, Harry froze mid-motion, his hand hovering above the cub's fur. His bright green eyes darkened. The cub nuzzled against him, waiting patiently.

[Snow in Summer - I Shall Seal The Heavens] – Costs 100CP, 150CP available to spend.

"Snow will only appear during winter," he said quietly, "and can only exist in the cold wind. Therefore, its life exists only during the depths of winter."

"Snow can only live in the winter. When it nears a fire, it dies. That is its life. It may yearn for summer, but... it can only desire it."

"Yearning for summer," Zheng Yong murmured to himself, "but only able to exist in the cold of winter. Only able to look off into the distance... that is snow."

In much the same way, humans change with every moment, and the man that is can only ever stare wistfully at the man that was. Unless it's you. Because in you there remains something altogether... stronger, something deeper. No matter what you undergo, how many trials or tribulations you endure, there remains a clump of snow that just will not melt. There is a kernel of you that remains you, come hell or high water, or the end of all things. This is not to say you can't learn from life's lessons, or that you can't change or grow. But no amount of change will ever erase the base of what makes you, you. No curse will snare your mind for very long, and no experiences will make you give into despair or drive you insane for any meaningful duration.

That is, all those things might still happen, this doesn't make you immune. What it does is to make sure you always, always recover from any such things. No matter how far gone you may be, such is your mind that you'll always rise again, refined and improved by the experience.

After a long moment, Harry smiled and accepted the offer. Then he blinked, a small frown crossing his face as he resumed petting the cub.

"You need a name," he said softly, scratching behind her ears. "Something that fits..." He trailed off, still frowning slightly.

The cub bumped her head against his hand, purring that strange thunderous purr. Harry's frown deepened for just a moment before clearing entirely.

"Chrysa," he decided suddenly. "Your name is Chrysa."

The cub - Chrysa - purred louder, as if approving the choice. Harry didn't question how he'd known the name, or why it felt so right. He was too tired to think about it now.

He lay back on his bed, and Chrysa curled up against his side, her golden fur gleaming in the lamplight. Within minutes, they were both asleep.