Harry Potter and the glory of Merlin(On temporary hold)

Chapter 3: Thoughts and Revelations

Chapter 3: Thoughts and revelations

It turns out that getting the armour off was relatively easy. That is, Harry didn't have to do a thing. After about five short minutes of him wearing the armour, the amulet flared with light once more and the armour with the sword and shield combined faded into light. He wasn't sure what had caused the sudden reaction but had eventually shrugged it off and accredit it to magic. The amulet that was to blame for all the recent events simply fell to the floor with a dull thump and lay innocently on the floor letting off its otherworldly blue light.

It had been three days since that and his life was showing signs of falling into the same routine once again. Like before Harry would get up early to avoid going back to sleep and keep out of his relatives way. Quickly finish his chores and head back out to the park. Nowadays however he would not sit by a tree and ponder about how unfair life was instead choosing to exercise and build up his strength. He was still out of shape but it was definitely an improvement. At least he was doing something. 

The amulet remained in his pocket throughout and while he always kept it with him, Harry had yet to try the armour on once again since the last time he had activated it by accident.

Harry wasn't quite sure what was stopped him from trying. It was a magical weapon and a concealable one. While the glow it gave of might be seen as suspicious, no one would take any notice of the extravagant amulet. It could be a helpful asset. At first he assumed his reluctance was to do with not actually knowing exactly what it was. That is, he knew it was a magical artefact. It glowed and used the trigger word 'Merlin' for crying out loud- but he didn't actually know what it was.  Sure it was a magical amulet that turned into armour but why and how? And of all people,  why did it come to him? For all he knew it could be some dangerous magical item Voldemort planted. It wouldn't be the first time a dangerous object was placed near him as a trick or a puzzle.

And yet the notion just seemed wrong. The amulet didn't look evil or feel wrong like some form of a trick. He didn't have that gut feeling that told him something bad was going to happen or the nervous butterflies he had whenever something unexpected was going to pop up. If anything, it felt right. 

If Harry was asked to compare it to something, he would probably use his wand as a comparison with the way his wand would hum with warm energy whenever he held it in his hand. It was for this reason, Harry always kept the amulet on him. Simply put, it made him feel safe and secure.

Beyond that, Harry had made no move to contact anyone about his current find. He knew he should have contacted Dumbledore at the very least or even Sirius, his godfather who he trusted and felt he could share anything with. Perhaps even Professor Lupin who was always ready to talk and share his everlasting wisdom. It would have been the responsible thing to do and yet something was holding him back. He had even briefly come up with the idea to write to Hermione. If he was going to have to choose any of his allies and friends to ask about a magical artefact it would be her. But he couldn't bring himself to.

Despite the dark hidden part of his brain whispering truths, Harry continued to try and convince himself that the reason he hadn't sought anyone's help was the same reason they believed in keeping information from him: it wasn't safe.

And technically speaking that was true. With Voldemort back, no one was safe. Any loyal death eaters would have eagerly stumbled to their master's side and Voldemort himself would be scrambling to gain and recover what powerful political allies he once had. Harry could idly remember a history book speaking about the minster of magic in Bulgaria rumoured to having allegiances with Voldemort after too many coincidental disappearances directly after and in between death eater attacks.

Advertising a possibly powerful and unknown magical artefact in his letters would have the potential to be massively dangerous. If Voldemort or any of his death eaters were to intercept his mail, the result would be troublesome.

Despite the reason being true, Harry knew in his heart if he needed to, he could find a way to alert them safely. No it was mostly anger and suspicion that held him back. Harry would be lying if he was unbothered by the idea of keeping him out of the loop when it was concerning him. So the prospect of keeping something secret from them, seemed gratifying to a degree. 

Was it petty?

Perhaps.

Either way, the blunt refusal to talk to him and even communicate slightly seemed extra and unneeded. Anything concerning something other than the pending war and the coming and going of the Wizarding world was left unanswered and ignored. Something as small as questions on homework was met with the curt response that he could have anything to do with academic work answered when he saw them next. No one even bothered to ask how he was doing and how he was holding up after witnessing the death of his classmate and the return of the notorious mass murder who had killed his parents. Harry would be lying to an extraordinary extent if it didn't sting that his godfather didn't answer his plea to hear more stories about his parents. It seemed as if they were deliberately trying to cut all forms of communication and let him rot.

After the horrifying events that took place last year combined with the knowledge that his relatives were neither loving nor caring towards him in any circumstance should have been enough to elucidate a simple 'are you okay?' or ' how are you coping?'. Maybe even some companionship through the form of discussions on pointless things like quidditch and new research combined with trinkets to keep his mind occupied like new books. To be honest, he didn't think he would have asked for more if what he wished came true. Because it showed they cared. That to someone other than himself he wasn't a scrap of useless meat.

The fact that his best friends, who had stuck thick and thin with him, his godfather who may be the only remaining member of his family and the calm professor who had been the first to tell him something concerning his parents other than what they looked like and how they died, seemed somewhat incapable of doing so was concerning.

It was enough to plant seeds of doubt in his mind that only grew every time he mulled over it.  No one appeared to be content telling him anything concerning his future and his past. That alone was enough for him to wish the knowledge of his amulet was a secret. The extra and unnecessary caution and security they were taking just added to it. The information that they were refusing to talk and forge some form of communication showed they would be willing to go to any lengths. If he did tell them about the amulet, he wasn't convinced they wouldn't storm in here and take it away with nothing telling them otherwise. Even when it was deemed safe, he was quite certain they wouldn't dare to give it back. Not with the power it held. And its unknown relations and past. The quite hum that calmed him and the warm feeling it radiated would be a distant dream. The feeling of acceptance would be a past memory. 

No. Harry thought. He wouldn't tell anyone. Not now and he doubted ever in the future. The amulet would remain a secret. 

Other than that, Harry knew he would have to act soon. By not doing anything to discover more information about the amulet and not actually using it, he was wasting time and a golden opportunity. Neither something he could afford to loose.

With a sigh, Harry wiped the sweat of his brow and turned back to his exercise. He would deal with the amulet later.