Chapter Seventeen—The New Triforce

Although Zelda had described the Sacred Realm to Link, he could never have imagined what it would be like to actually be there. He remembered and recognized the familiar feeling of divinity that permeated the air, the aura that he had felt when he had come to the Chamber of Sages during his quest to defeat Ganondorf. But to be standing in a Hyrule Field that was so much more real than the Hyrule Field he had always known, with Malon in his arms again for the first time in much too long, with Harry's family and friends mingling with his own for the first time now that they had come them together… Zelda had laughed at him, because it was such an incomprehensibly wonderful experience that he didn't know what to react to first—how proud he was to see who his grandchildren's children had grown into; how much Lily Potter looked and acted like Malon; how his daughter, Saria II, had been talking non-stop since his arrival and he had only managed to take in about half of all she had said; how much chaos the world would have been subjected to if he had been contemporary with Sirius and James; how strange it was to see his daughter, Nathana, and the other two demi-gods looking like the immortal deities they were; how much fun it was for everyone to be an Animagus; or how he hadn't yet run into half the people he wanted to see again, including his father, Barive, and his best friend, Saria I…

He was standing back now, trying to calm the millions of thoughts that were hurtling through his mind as he watched all the introductions and tearful reunions that were taking place. He and Zelda had missed a noticeable portion of the eternity that they could have spent with their loved ones (though they would now have the rest of eternity to make up for it), and while she was at the moment attempting to see through her joyful tears to hug everyone she had ever known, Link felt that it was about all he could take after the initial burst of welcoming (which had taken quite a while and been interrupted by conversations with Harry) to stand just outside the centre of everything, smiling, with one arm around Malon, who was leaning against his shoulder with her own arms around his waist, as contented to be next to him again as he was to have her there.

It was just a good thing there was no such thing as time here in the Sacred Realm, because he had a lot to do. Not that time had ever really been able to tie him down, anyway, he added mentally with a smirk.

"Link—There's someone I want you to meet."

That was Barive's voice behind him. Still grinning at the sight of the exploratory interaction between everyone he or Harry had ever loved, Link turned to see what was his father wanted.

His smile dropped away instantly in shock, as everything around him fell out of his awareness.

Link could probably count on one hand the number of times he had cried over the course of his existence. He usually wasn't one to express his emotions through tears, no matter how angry or sad he was. But he had never felt this way before; he was overcome with dizzying numbness as his heart rose up to his throat, and he tears burned in his eyes.

She stood hand in hand with Barive. Her bright blue eyes were identical to Link's own, right down to the tears that brimmed within them. And he only knew one thing about her.

"Mom…"

Even as she nodded, he felt as though he were suddenly five years old, needing to be warm and safe in her arms. They fell together, he clinging to her so tightly that it would have been painful, if he had been able to feel pain, and she holding onto him just as desperately.

This was Alea Dassin, the one woman he had never gotten a chance to speak to, to say goodbye to, to thank for giving him his life, to tell how much he loved her, to hold right here where she belonged. Next to his heart.

As she clung to him just as intensely as she would life itself, he felt her tears against his skin.

"Link…" she breathed. "Oh, my baby boy…I love you so much…"

"Mom…" he whispered again, trembling.

He had never been able to call anyone by that title, and she had never been able to hear it. It was beautiful.

"Mom…Mother…Mommy…"

"Oh, Link…"

When they finally parted enough to look into each other's faces, though without letting each other go, he couldn't help being amazed at how much he really did look like her. His father had always told him so, but having not seen his mother since he was a baby, he hadn't known firsthand how true this was. It also struck him how much Alea looked like Zelda, being her aunt, and left him wondering faintly how no one had realized for nearly twenty years that he and the queen were cousins.

With a shadow of a smile, she touched his face and said, "Look at you… You're all grown up. I remember when you were just a little baby, in my arms, and now…"

"He's a good man, Alea," spoke up Barive, smiling in rapture at the sight of the reunion between his wife and their only child. "Did pretty well for himself."

Alea laughed quietly, still staring at her son. "I know he did. But he can't be a man!" she added, making a face and beaming. "He's just a little boy!"

Now it was Link who laughed, and he heard Malon do the same as she approached, separating from the crowd of people from Harry and Link's lives, who were all still eagerly getting to know each other and tracing their family trees now that they suddenly found themselves connected.

"Oh, Malon! Have you met my mom?" Link asked enthusiastically, taking her arm to bring her forward.

"Of course I have," she told him. "We've been here for a few thousand years waiting for you, we've gotten to know each other pretty well. And, of course," she added with a devious smirk, "I've now heard all the obligatory humiliating stories from the first year of your life."

"Oh, goddesses," Link muttered, rolling his eyes. "Thanks a lot, Mom."

"What's a mother for, if not to make you look stupid in front of the girl you like?" Alea asked with a laugh.

"Yeah, yeah… Well, come on, then," he said, taking a seat right there on the grass and indicating for her to do the same.

"What do you mean?" Alea asked, puzzled, as she, Barive, and Malon sat next to him.

"I wanna hear those stories, too."

---

Most of Hogwarts cared that Link and Zelda were gone, though they were prevented from grieving by the fact that Harry didn't seem to care. He had not sunk into the silent, empty isolation that had followed the deaths which had occurred in previous years; he continued to laugh with his friends, play Quidditch and do homework with the usual amount of enthusiasm (or, in the latter case, of complaints). He didn't even avoid talking about the loss of the Hylians. But perhaps the most shocking of these small behaviour details was the fact that he had been heard, on more than one occasion, to mention the name Sirius…without sinking in a grief so deep that he was lost for hours or even days.

To the amazement of everyone but Ron and Hermione, Harry's emotional wounds were healing enough that he could quiet casually mention instances such as the time, before he had even known he was a wizard, that he had dreamed about his godfather riding on his trademark flying motorcycle. But it was still explicitly taboo to mention the Department of Mysteries or a particular Death Eater named Bellatrix Lestrange. No one was clear why, but some gossipy whispers told them that the reason was Sirius.

They all noticed more significant changes in Harry as well, such as the hours he spent alone on the grounds, and the fact that he carried some unidentified object on his back, underneath his robes. Presumably Ron, Hermione and Ginny knew what it was, but no one else did.

Only one person drove Harry to show them all this secret.

It was a Wednesday, and Harry was on his way to lunch with Ron and Hermione, as the three of them had just left Charms together. Then he heard a voice that never failed to make his blood churn with rage.

"Father just can't believe how easily the Ministry can be bought. I mean, of course our money was always enough motivation to earn their support, but it came with our good name attached. And now they're think about handing out honours to blood traitors and half-bloods… You heard they're talking about giving Black a posthumous Order of Merlin? Have you ever heard anything more ridiculous?"

"Don't rise," Hermione hissed automatically, sensing Harry clench his fists with anger as the Slytherins laughed.

"Well," Malfoy went on, still speaking loudly enough to be audible across the Entrance hall, "unless you count the fact that they're also thinking about giving Potter the Order, for falling into the You-Know-Who's traps…how many times is it now? Next thing you know, his parents are going to earn it for so skilfully having gotten themselves killed."

Harry heard Crabbe and Goyle's dull chuckles, and Malfoy's sharp laughter, more loudly. He didn't hear Ron and Hermione warning him in low voices to stay calm, though they grabbed him as he whirled around. His blood was pounding in his skull.

It was as dramatically staged a scene as it could have been. Harry stood at the bottom of the sweeping marble staircase, and Malfoy stood at the top; each was flanked by his two best friends. The crowd, sensing the resurrection of an epic conflict, cleared out of the path between them.

Furiously, in ringing tones, Harry shouted up the stairs, "If you've got something to say about me or my family, why does you say it to my face, Death Eater?"

Malfoy stood perfectly still, sneering. "All right, I will, if you want the whole school to hear it this time." He cleared his throat with the air of one about to make an important proclamation.

"Say whatever you want," Harry consented grimly, reaching over his shoulder. "I'm listening."

With that, there was an audible gasp from the crowd as he drew the Master Sword from its sheath, with the slick sound of metal against deadly metal. The flawless blade gleamed menacingly, looking sharp enough to cut light itself.

Malfoy hitched his sneer, which had flickered, back up into place. "You don't know how to use that thing," he declared derisively.

In answer, Harry smirked humourlessly. He twirled the weapon before him, tossed it in the air, caught it with his left hand, swung it around behind him, threw it again so that it flipped in midair behind his back, caught it again with his right hand, and pointed it directly at Malfoy. Raising one eyebrow, he commented coolly, "You sound pretty sure about that."

Next to him, Harry heard Ron stifle a laugh; Crabbe and Goyle were exchanging nervous glances at the realization that Harry had a weapon greater than their own muscles.

"Like you would actually use that on me," Malfoy jeered, with an admirable attempt at his usual aloof sarcasm.

"What, you think I carry it around for no reason?" Harry inquired, raising his other eyebrow into an expression of mild surprise. He lowered the blade and started up the stairs towards his enemy, speaking casually as he went. "No, Malfoy, actually, I carry it around because it chose me. I'm sure you remember Link, that visitor we had for awhile? Well, turns out I'm his heir, so with him gone, I get my inheritance. Which includes this fine weapon,"—he twirled the sword again—"as well as certain talents which enable me to use it. I'm officially a True Hero now, see, because I have…this."

Halfway up the stairs, Harry paused in his tracks. He had been just waiting for this moment, when he could show off to Malfoy his new powers. His crossed his right arm over his body, holding the sword horizontally just below his eyes, so that the back of his hand faced Malfoy. Though the Triforce mark here had faded to become so pale that no one would normally notice it, he could make the insignia show itself at will, and this he did now. The triangles glowed with impressive brightness, and hushed murmurs of amazement spread through the crowd. Harry delighted inwardly in seeing Malfoy's face go slack with dumbfounded shock.

"That's a little something called the Triforce of Courage," Harry went on, explaining to the crowd at large. "Also known as the power of the goddesses. And it's mine now."

"So?" Malfoy retorted, finding his voice again. "Big deal. The Dark Lord as it, too, and so does Dumbledore!"

Harry lowered his sword, a look of mock sorrow on his face. "Oh, darn," he said with as much irony as he could muster. "You mean I'm just equal with Dumbledore and scary old Lord Voldemort?" He smirked again when Malfoy and his cronies looked alarmed at the sound of the name. "Well, that's too bad. I guess I don't stand a chance against you, huh?"

There followed a long silence, during which neither Harry nor Malfoy moved. Then, abruptly, Harry raised his sword and made as if to swing it towards the three Slytherins; though he didn't actually attempt to strike, Malfoy flinched and moved to shield himself, and Crabbe and Goyle nearly fell over each other in their efforts to get out of his range. Harry laughed at the sight of the pair of them tumbling onto the stone floor, and Malfoy's look of fury at his backup, as if they had humiliated him.

"Get over yourself, Malfoy," Harry said. "This sword is meant to be used by the True Hero, which is me, against real evil…which is not a wannabe like you."

He sheathed the sword on his back and strode back down the stairs to Ron and Hermione, with whom he walked into the Great Hall for lunch as though nothing had just happened, looking out for Ginny as he went. After a stunned silence, the crowd in the Entrance hall filled in the space they had cleared for the confrontation between two of Hogwarts most omnipresent rivals.

"Harry…" Hermione began, as they took their seats at the Gryffindor table.

"Is this gonna be a lecture?" Ron interjected.

"Well…no, more of a…question."

Harry looked up from the plate he was piling with food and frowned curiously at her. "Okay, shoot."

"Why did you do that?"

Ron sighed loudly. "That's how lectures start, Hermione."

"No, really, I'm asking. It just seems out of character for you to be threatening Malfoy with a sword like that. You never would have done that before."

"I never had a sword before."

"Harry, you know what I mean," she replied. "What's changed?"

As Ron snorted, Harry asked, "Since when?"

Hermione rolled her eyes impatiently, and began to say, "Harry…"

"Hermione, it's a legitimate question. A ton of things have changed recently. Where do you want me to begin?"

She looked intently at him, as though trying to see through his face and into his mind; he returned her gaze, breaking off only when Ginny appeared and he turned to briefly kiss her hello as she sat down for a meal.

"Start with Link," Hermione decided. "And Sirius."

Ron gave her a sharp look. Even he, notorious for being oblivious about the emotions of others, knew that bringing up Sirius when Harry hadn't done so first could be a dangerous move. But Harry wasn't bothered.

"All right, then," he sighed, considering this. "Link… Well, I told you how much he reminds me of Sirius."

They nodded.

"Okay. And I guess maybe that's why I started…facing facts," Harry began awkwardly, staring at his plate and not really seeing it, and trying to understand his own words as he spoke. "After Sirius died, I…I don't know what I did, but I know I never got a chance to get over it. I never got to be as angry or as sad as I wanted to be, so it all just built up. Then when Link came, and he started teaching me to fight and everything…but he was also telling me how much he loved his family. It was like he was telling me that, even in the middle of trying to save the world, it's okay to have feelings of your own. I never realized I always thought that I couldn't let myself be happy or sad or anything, because there was so much else that I was supposed to be doing…"

His voice faded away thoughtfully. Ginny opened her mouth to speak, but cut herself off when Harry continued to do so.

"And when we were fighting Voldemort…Bellatrix was there. She was just everything, everything that I was…furious and miserable at. I couldn't help it. And Remus was there, too, and he was the other side of it all. I just wanted it to end, I wanted to let everything inside me get out and win. I almost did let it. I actually almost killed her. I came really, really close."

"Oh, Harry…" Hermione breathed in quiet horror, as Ginny let out a stifled gasp and Ron froze, wide-eyed, with a forkful of mashed potatoes halfway to his mouth.

"But I stopped myself," Harry added. He did not elaborate.

"Why?" asked Ginny gently, when it became apparent that he wouldn't continue on his own.

"Because it was wrong," he said simply. "It wasn't meant to happen that way."

This time, it was Ron who encouraged him further after a brief silence. "So then…what does all this have to do with Malfoy?"

Harry blinked, remembering what had started this conversation. "Oh, right. I guess it's just…that experience taught me that I need to admit stuff out loud and not keep it all bottled up, or else I'll just explode like that." With a smile, he elucidated, "It's better for me to admit Malfoy's annoying and threaten him than it is to claim he's not getting to me and end up going on a mad Slytherin-attacking rampage or something, right?"

Hermione and Ron exchanged looks, and Ron said slowly, "Well, actually, if those are the only two options…"

With a scoff of impatience, whose effect was diminished by the smile she couldn't hide entirely, Hermione gave Ron a swat on the arm. Ginny laughed, and Harry smiled as well.

"The point is, I know now. It's like I told Link, we've got to share everything."

"You're getting awfully philosophical," Hermione observed with an amused smile of her own. "That's not like you, either."

Harry shrugged. "Yeah, well, I've been through a lot. But I'm still Harry."

"Who's the British record holder for fastest Snitch catch in history?" Ron demanded.

Caught off guard, Harry answered, "Er…Roderick Plumpton. Tutshill Tornados."

"In what time?" Ginny piped up instantly.

"Three and a half seconds."

Ron nodded, satisfied. "Yep, you're still Harry."

::Just older and wiser.::

::Move your feet, Harry, move your feet! You're like a rock, kid, move!::

Link was never more strict and serious that when he was giving instructions in armed combat; he always emphasized the last words if his every sentence and, for some reason, called his protégé "kid." Harry paused and lowered his sword to catch his breath.

::The enemy isn't taking a break, kid,:: Link informed him sullenly.

::There's no enemy, Link,:: Harry replied. ::Just in case you hadn't noticed.::

He meant, of course, that there was no enemy standing right in front of him. There was always an enemy lurking somewhere, or else he wouldn't have been training. He spent hours out on the castle grounds when he had nothing else to do, practicing with his bow and sword. Miming fights on his own was something Link called dorok na sor—"dancing with air." Harry was learning to speak and read ancient Hylian on top of everything else, and Ron and Hermione left him to it. It gave them time together, and besides, they knew that he would always come back and tell them everything that was on his mind. Always. Their friendship was changing shape as they grew older, but it remained just as solid.

In a way, Harry had become more isolated. Having a clearer understanding of his destiny, and having all his fears about it removed, he devoted more time to working towards it. He also found that some good dorok na sor after a hard day really helped him relax, much as a good Quidditch practice had been known to do. Link was always there and willing to coach him, with Harry's parents and Sirius close at hand to watch and pass on their thoughts to the boy they all considered a son. Sometimes even Zelda was around, or Malon, or their families; Link and Malon had two daughters, Saria and Nathana, while Zelda and Chezdon had three children, Princess Rilla, Prince Danion and Prince Taizu, and there were also siblings, cousins, spouses, grandkids, and more—not to mention the Potter and Evans families. And Harry indirectly met them all. In fact, as his telepathic powers became stronger, he even spontaneously developed more connections with some of the Hylians, such as Zelda and Saria (though Link had pointed out, so as not to get Harry's hopes up, that such connections couldn't spring up with people who hadn't established telepathic skills before death).

Though he was assured he would meet everyone in person when he went to the Sacred Realm after dying, Harry already felt like he'd known them all when they were alive.

Dumbledore, as always, was a reassuring presence, even if he wasn't doing anything other than just being there. So, too, was Ginny, though it was still bizarre at times to think of her as his girlfriend. But sometimes, no matter how open he was with all the people that supported him, Harry still felt small, weak, and consumed with pain. In these moments, when the dead of night crept into his soul, he had two possible courses of action. One was to write to Remus.

Whenever I think there's nowhere to turn, I know you're just around the corner. You're the one I turn to last, because you're the strongest cure for the sickness that eats me alive sometimes. You're the last person I know is still living when I feel like the world is death.

In these letters, Harry found unusually poetic sentences flowing from his quill like thoughts swirling in a Pensieve. Sometimes he didn't even send the letters off with Hedwig, because it was enough just to put his thoughts on paper. The knowledge that he could send them if he wanted to was enough.

If Remus wasn't the one he wanted to talk to, he could venture out onto the grounds. He had added three tombstones to the graveyard, each marked with the words "In Memoriam" and topped with a stone figurine of an animal: a lion, a panther, and a large dog. Chiselled on the first two were simply the full names of the people they honoured: Sir Link Hero and Queen Zelda Hyrule, but the third had a longer inscription:

Sirius Black

Godfather

Loyal friend

Noble hero

Harry often visited these stone tributes and stared at the words written upon them, stared into the eyes of the stone dog, gemstones that sparkled like stars. He would have liked Remus to see them.

::Your dad and dear godfather are laughing their heads off at my dad, and it's driving him crazy.::

Saria's laughing thoughts snapped Harry back to the present. ::Why?:: he asked. It was Zelda who answered.

::Because Sirius said Link was being too serious, and then Link said maybe he wasn't being serious enough. So you can imagine where they took it from there. "You can't get anymore serious than Sirius!" "Serious is my middle name! No wait, it's my first!" And so on.::

Harry laughed quietly aloud. ::Well, it is funny.::

Link's thoughts came next, in a concerned tone. ::I don't know about these guys, Harry… horrible puns and cheesy wisecracks are supposed to be my department.::

But across two dimensions, they were all laughing at the same joke.