Disclaimer: I am not rich, so I can't be the one who owns Harry Potter.
5. Passing Time
Has the Chosen One Come Forward?
Harry Potter, sometimes referred to as the Chosen One, was seen yesterday morning entering the Ministry of Magic for as yet undisclosed purposes.
Widely believed to be the protégé of Albus Dumbledore, and suspected to have been present during the confrontation that recently decimated the wizarding world; Potter has been notoriously shy when it comes to making his opinions public. Now there is much speculation that his arrival in the Ministry, just minutes after the building was opened, might be a sign that he is willing to step forward into the roll many are waiting for him to claim.
Harry threw down his copy of the Daily Prophet, not wanting to know what else was expected of him. He had been about to call Hermione, with every intention of shouting his face blue, but she beat him to the punch by actually showing up and practically begging him to forgive her. She was so worked up about causing Harry more problems that he quickly forgot his anger, and spent the better part of an hour calming her down.
One major result of the article was that it effectively kept Harry stowed away in the house for most of the next two weeks, as ordered by both Mad-Eye Moody, and Remus. They informed him that so many people were looking for him for whatever reasons, there was no way they could guard him while still trying to rebuild the Order of the Phoenix. Harry really didn't care much if he ever had a guard, and was extremely grateful for the few times Hermione was able to sneak him out for a couple of hours, even the one that ended up being a trip to her parents' surgery (Dan and Emma were shocked that Harry couldn't remember ever having a check-up).
It was on a Wednesday night that Harry and Hermione had arranged to meet at the Shrieking Shack. Harry had spent most of his time reading up in his defense books, and desperately needed to practice some of the spells he'd found. After several hours of practice they had both perfected the Anti-Disapparation Jinx, and another spell Hermione found to deflect most curses; neither of them could even come close to performing Dumbledore's flame-whip.
"I just don't get how he could do it so casually," Harry said after another failed attempt.
"Really, Harry. For all we know, he had a hundred years of practice at it. I'm sure when you're his age, you'll be able to do anything at all with little to no effort."
"Yeah. If I'm still alive." Hermione didn't reply, but was giving him the harshest look she could muster. "I didn't mean because of him. I don't even know how old he really was, so how could I agree?"
"Well I suppose Harry," said Hermione "but I think it might be a good idea to stop for the night. I'm not even sure I want to know the time."
Harry looked to his watch and saw that it was almost three in the morning, "No, you don't, but since we're both here, I thought you might want to do a little more research." He had already pulled the Pensieve out of his bag and set it on its base. Hermione seemed at odds with herself for a second, before nodding. He called Dobby to be lookout (the elf appeared in an immaculate set of silk pajamas), and pulled out a bottle labeled The Ring. Harry placed his money pouch on the ground next to the Pensieve, and told Dobby to pay himself whatever he thought to be fair (he was too tired to haggle) before he followed Hermione inside.
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Albus Dumbledore was striding down a path as Harry joined Hermione inside his Pensieve. They followed along the road Harry recognized as leading to the Gaunt cottage, only now everything in sight was overgrown, as if whoever normally took care of the area had forgotten of its existence. In the distance, Harry could see the once handsome manor house, now it looked as if it could collapse of its own weight at any moment. Looking to the other side, he saw the graveyard. He hadn't even noticed stopping until Hermione came up to him.
"That's where it happened, isn't it?" she asked delicately.
"Yeah. That's where Cedric died."
"And you fought him. Harry," she hesitated, as if she wasn't sure if she should ask, "what happened when you fought him? When your spells connected and made that gold cage. I've looked everywhere, but there's no other documented occurrences of anything like that happening as far as I've seen."
"Not here. I'm not sure if anyone could hear us out there," Harry said pointing above their heads. "We'd better catch up."
As they jogged along the path, Harry was about to go through he gap in the hedge he knew led to the cottage, but Hermione pulled him back. Looking ahead, he saw Dumbledore continuing down the road to the town.
"Why's he going down there? He said he got the ring at the house, not in town."
"I don't know Harry, but there is only one way to find out."
They followed along all the way to town, and eventually inside the local pub, The Hanged Man. Dumbledore peeled off his traveling cloak, revealing a suit almost exactly like the one he wore to the orphanage, only now it was a deep blue in color. Harry guessed it probably was the same one, with a color-change charm applied.
Striding through the pub, receiving many strange looks on the way, Dumbledore stopped next to a table with a single, old woman. "Ms. Williams, I presume?"
"Dot's fine. Mr. Bumbledore is it?" Dumbledore chuckled as he sat opposite her.
"Albus works for me."
"Right then, you said you wanted to talk about the Riddle house? As I told you before, I was just the cook, so I didn't get around the estate very often. You might have better luck trying to find whatever sucker bought it. Barmy fool actually kept the gardener."
"Finding the owner would be as easy as looking in a mirror; no, I am trying to find out a little more about what happened when Mr. Bryce was falsely imprisoned."
"You're the lunatic," screamed Dot, "why on earth would agree to keep a murderer on salary for all those years?"
"Well, I must say my reasons for keeping Mr. Bryce on are my own, and I can assure you, Frank Bryce never harmed a soul. It has been many years since I'd spoken to him, and I was quite surprised to hear about his disappearance a little over a year ago."
"You think whoever killed the Riddles came back for Frank?"
"Yes," Dumbledore simply stated, "and I must say, Dot, that I've spent a considerable amount of time searching for more information on this young man Frank insisted on seeing all those years ago."
"You honestly think a teenager could murder three people and not be caught?"
"With the proper motivation, I believe anything is possible," Dumbledore smiled down to her, a familiar twinkle igniting in his eyes.
"Well, I don't know much more about anything than Frank himself could have told you. He used to insist he saw the kid earlier in the day up the hill a ways; there used to be an old shack hidden back in the trees. A few of us went up there to have a look when they had Frank locked up, but apparently the old place burned down without anyone noticing."
"Really," said Dumbledore, with a sudden interest, "No other person in town could remember the shack burning, and yet it was noticed shortly after the murders?"
"Yes, some of the local boys used to try to sneak up there on dares, until a snakebite killed one of them. Most people around here tend to keep away from a place infested with snakes."
"Yes, I imagine it would seem the wiser course of action now, wouldn't it?" Dumbledore sharply arose from his seat, "Well, thank you for your time, Dot. I can say this meeting has been quite informative."
Harry and Hermione quickly followed as Dumbledore made his way back outside, heading back up the hill.
"Harry, did Dumbledore ever tell you he bought Voldemort's Dad's house?"
"No Hermione, I guess he didn't think it was all that important, thought he did tell me about the old gardener being killed. I think there was another memory in the box that had his name on it, maybe it was from when he bought the estate."
They followed along, taking the path Harry had almost run down earlier, until they came upon an empty patch of land, they only evidence that it had ever been otherwise were a few mossy logs, and some rubble in a rough square. Dumbledore stood still, listening intently, before he started muttering to apparently no one.
"What have you done here, Tom? Destroying the remaining family you possessed was not enough, so you took it upon yourself to raze their home as well?"
As soon as Dumbledore had started speaking, Harry began to hear the whispers.
"Who has come? Who has awakened us? What human has disturbed our slumber? That which we protect shall not be found…"
Dumbledore was glancing around wildly, as was Harry, looking for the source of the sound.
"What is it Harry, what's going on," Hermione said in alarm.
"Those voices… There must be snakes guarding this place, and they sound pissed."
As soon as Harry had spoken, the ground around them began to slither, hundreds of individual hisses coming up from all around them. Harry couldn't make out what they were all saying, but he could tell it wasn't good. Dumbledore, in an act that Harry could only call brilliant, aimed his wand at the pile of moldy logs, and an instant later, a pack of mongooses were springing forth, fiercely attacking everything in sight. Dumbledore, in an effort to help his furry friends, was levitating the serpents in large clumps, before sending them hurtling off in the direction of the graveyard. It was over in a manner of minutes, and with a lazy flick of his wand, Dumbledore was once again accompanied by just a pile of logs.
"Well Tom, I daresay that little trick was good enough to keep any Muggles away, but I'm sure you've laid out another surprise for whomever banished them from this place," mumbled Dumbledore, "and just what did you have them guarding?"
He began slowly making his way around the ruin of the house, occasionally stopping in a corner and muttering, this time Harry could hear the words "Ostendo mihi specialis vos occulto," which Hermione told him was just a bit of Latin. Continuing in this vein around the remaining area, Dumbledore eventually found a spot near what Harry remembered to be the front door, where a faint silver outline appeared as if there was a trapdoor. "Vestri vinco votum video vidi visum vestri opus," Dumbledore once again intoned, and Harry could see a somewhat translucent handle appear. With a tap of his wand, the handle became solid, and Dumbledore proceeded down into the unknown depths.
When they reached the bottom landing, they found Dumbledore intently staring at a torch mounted to the wall. "Of course this is here to light the way, but who might the light be a warning to?" Ignoring the torch, he continued down the way, only to find himself plunged into complete darkness. He tried lighting his wand, which failed completely, and much to Hermione's surprise bellowed out "Myrddin anfon 'm 'r chyneua chan 'r nefoedd at achlesa 'r byd," but still no light. Harry thought for an instant he heard another soft voice laughing, and assumed some other form of serpent was hiding down the tunnel. Dumbledore must have agreed, because with a quick flick of his wand, the herd of mongooses from before came hurtling down the steps, along with one dried up old stick.
"Well Tom," Dumbledore said with a mischievous grin, "let us see if you have guarded your tunnel against Muggle methods as well." He conjured a towel and wrapped it around the stick, then pulled out a bottle of what Harry guessed was lighter fluid, thoroughly soaking the towel. The old wizard picked up a rock from the barely lit ground, and struck it against the stone wall, producing just enough sparks to ignite the improvised torch in his other hand.
"Brilliant." Hermione quietly whispered next to Harry, "Of course he would only think to block against magic, everything-"
"Else is inferior, in his mind," Harry finished for her.
In front of them, Dumbledore continued down the tunnel, which as far as Harry could tell, was taking them back towards the town. Occasionally they heard some noises coming from the darkness ahead; the mongooses were doing their jobs. After almost ten minutes of near silence, the tunnel opened up to a massive chamber, and all three of them found the first signs of trouble when Dumbledore tripped over a pile of mongoose carcasses. "Oh my, this can not be a good sign," Dumbledore said, and suddenly a ring of light appeared from around the floor, revealing the large circular room they were in. Directly across from them was a staircase leading up, but sitting calmly in front of it was a Manticore, looking quite amused.
"I must admit, when my master first placed me here, I was assuming I'd be guarding a much-desired treasure, but as the years have passed, it has gotten quite boring in my chambers. The small mammals you sent ahead of yourself made for amusing sport, which I have not had for some time. I must thank you for that," the great beast said with a slight bow.
"As much as I enjoy curing the boredom of all sentient beings, I fear this pleasantness will eventually come to an end."
"You are quite correct, Wise one, but first, we must observe the niceties, and you must answer my riddles."
"And if I can answer you, do I gain this treasure you guard?"
"Oh no," the beast replied, "you are playing for your life, not some silly Wizard's trinket."
Dumbledore casually flicked his wand once more, and conjured a chair similar to the ones from Harry's hearing the summer before. "Very well, let us begin."
The Manticore smiled slyly before speaking,
"He starts and ends two common English words.
One painful in love, one painful in everyday matter.
Do you know what two words I must be?"
"Heartache and Headache," Dumbledore answered without hesitation.
"Very good.
I soar without wings, I see without eyes.
I've traveled the universe to and fro.
I've conquered the world, yet I've never been anywhere but home.
Who am I?"
"Your imagination, of course."
"What force and strength cannot get through, with a gentle touch I can do.
Many in the street would stand, were I not a friend in hand.
What am I?"
"A key, naturally." Harry was sure the beast would be annoyed by Dumbledore's answers, and calm demeanor, but it looked to be enjoying itself immensely.
"I can sizzle like bacon, I am made with an egg.
I have plenty of backbone, but lack a good leg.
I peel layers like onions, but still remain whole.
I can be long like a flagpole, yet fit in a hole.
What am I?"
"A snake, just like your Master."
"Oh… Very good.
I cannot be felt, seen, or touched, yet I can be found in everyone.
My existence is always in debate, yet I have my own style of music.
What am I?"
Dumbledore's face turned grim, and he rose from his seat, which promptly vanished. "You are a soul. Or at least a guardian of a piece of one, if my suspicions are correct."
"My, you are quite astute, but does this mean you've grown tired of our game? I'm afraid you forfeit you life, if that is the case."
Dumbledore had an extremely calm look about him, but was careful to keep a good distance between himself and the guardian. "You may find that I will not make for easy prey, in fact, if I did not know you'd refuse, I'd ask you to step aside and let me continue along my path."
"You are once again quite correct, Wise one. It has been enjoyable conversing with you." And with that, the Manticore lunged at Dumbledore.
The Headmaster swished his cloak, as if trying to Apparate out of the way, but it didn't work, and he had to dive to the side to avoid the razor-sharp claws streaking towards him. He brandished his wand, and brought forth a whip of flame, which promptly secured itself around the great beast's legs, leaving it hog-tied. Even as he tried to put some room between himself and his attacker, the Manticore brought its stinger down and dissipated its bindings.
"I'm afraid you'll find it much harder to rid yourself of me, my friend," the creature calmly told the man.
Dumbledore seemed to consider his options for a moment, then suddenly swung his wand in a wide arc, sending an enormous, slightly bronze-colored spell streaking across the room. The Manticore dodged it mostly, but one of its hind legs was glanced, causing a horrible crunching noise. Harry was sure it had at least a few broken bones, judging by its slight limp.
The beast tried again to lunge, but its aim was slightly off due to the injured leg. The Headmaster spun around to see a stinger hurtling through the air directly at his head, and had to quickly dodge again, but this time he was caught by the creatures claws, which tore off his cloak, and left a huge gash down his back.
Hermione and Dumbledore had both screamed as his back was sliced open, and Harry could hear the voice in the back of his head practically screaming that he already knew Dumbledore would make it out alive, but he was having trouble believing it.
There were several more strikes aimed at the old man, who deftly dived, ducked, and rolled out of the way, at one point leaving a large bloodstain on the floor of the chamber. Dumbledore was being surprisingly passive, hardly counter-attacking, but from what Harry remembered of Hagrid's classes, the Manticore's hide could repel almost any spell sent at it. The only option Harry could think of was that he was trying to wear the beast out, so he could have an easier time fleeing. He was about to mention this to Hermione, but she leapt away from him to make room for a spinning Dumbledore.
Just as the Headmaster was turning to strike back, it brought its stinger down sharply, hitting the old man directly in the elbow of his wand arm. His knees buckled as he let out an ear-splitting howl, and Hermione watched in shock from the other side of the creature, as it slowly drew back for another strike.
Suddenly, with what must have been all his remaining energy, Dumbledore reached his good arm straight into the air, and bellowed "FAWKES!" There was an explosion of flame above the Manticore that distracted its attention; the creature hardly noticed the ruby-encrusted sword drop out of the air and into the man's hand.
Albus Dumbledore, in an incredible show of strength, swung the sword high in the air, cleaving off his attacker's stinger on the way up, only to bring the weapon down with a mighty thrust, straight through the back of its neck. Falling to his knees next to the now twitching creature, the Headmaster traded the sword in his left hand for his wand, and tapped his right arm just below the shoulder, effectively making a tunicate. He held up his right arm and inspected his already shriveling fingers before muttering, "Oh dear, Poppy is going to throttle me."
He used his wand to slice off the arm of his suit, exposing the wound at his elbow. The spot of impact was already black, and slightly sizzling, Fawkes, who had been slowly circling overhead, glided down and began crying into the wound, but he only seemed to be able to slow the effects of whatever venom the Manticore had pumped into the Headmaster.
"Oh, my friend, I'm afraid we're going to need more help if we want to fix this." Standing quickly, he slid the sword into he belt, and hurried towards the staircase on the other side of the room, only staggering once on the way.
The space at the top of the stairs was simple, brick room, and Dumbledore looked like he was about to rush straight out the doors on the other side, which Harry assumed were back to the outside world, but he stopped suddenly, and began passing his hand over one section of the far wall. Without muttering a word, Dumbledore reached directly into one of the bricks, and when he pulled out his hand, he was wearing the ring.
He studied it intensely, but briefly, before simply prodding it with is wand, "Prior Incantato."
A bluish mist started rising from the stone, as if it were smoking before they heard the voice of a young Tom Riddle.
"Meus animus est meus own etiamnunc ego tribuo is vobis,
Meus substantia vos vadum usus,
Intemporaliter universitas est secui"
Dumbledore closed his eyes and sighed heavily, "Tom, what have you done?" He looked from the ring on his hand, to his injured arm, which was growing steadily darker; no matter how often Fawkes dropped tears on it. "If only I had brought Harry…"
Hermione was looking at him as if he has sprouted another head, while Harry's mind was stuck on wondering just why the Headmaster would have wanted him alongside him.
"Fawkes, could you please awake Severus, along with Hagrid, and bring them to my office? I shall be along shortly." The bird leaped off his shoulder, and disappeared in a burst of flame. "Well, Harry. Let us see if your previous method will work again…" Dumbledore quickly strode back down to the circular chamber, and made his way over to the Manticore carcass. He picked up the severed stinger, and drove its point straight into the rings stone.
There was a long, piercing scream in what Harry now recognized as Tom Riddle's voice, and then it was over. Dumbledore had destroyed his fragment of Riddle's soul. Looking nearly as worn as the night he died, Dumbledore rushed back through the room he found the ring in, and burst out the other doors, which appeared to be cellar doors off of the Riddle house itself, though Harry doubted they would ever open from this side.
Dumbledore grabbed a stone from the ground, turning it into a Portkey, and with a lurch, Harry and Hermione found themselves back in the Headmaster's office. Snape and Hagrid were both waiting for his arrival, and rushed to the old wizard's side as he nearly collapsed to the floor.
"Headmaster, who has done this to you?" Snape asked in what Harry guessed was his most concerned voice. As he looked at his former professor, Harry felt a cold fury building up inside him, and had to turn away. Hermione must have guessed what was upsetting him.
"I know Harry," she said, reaching out and holding his arm, "we'll find him. He can't run forever."
He sent her a warm smile before looking back to the action in the office. Hagrid looked more furious than Harry ever remembered seeing him.
"Oh, it's nothing to worry about Hagrid; Severus. I just had a little bit of a run-in with a Manticore, though I'm afraid my arm has seen better days." Hagrid's look quickly changed to one of awe.
"Professor Dumbledore! A Manticore? Is it alive?"
"I'm sorry to say I was forced to put the beast down, Hagrid, but I was rather hoping you might have something to deal with the effects of its venom?"
"I'm sorry, Professor. I don't usually keep nothin' to do wit anything like tha'."
"Allow me Headmaster," said Snape, before barking out "Elf!" Much to both the teenagers' surprise, Winky popped into the room.
"Yes professor?"
"Bring me the potion kit from my study, and be quick about it!" As she was about to bow out of the room, Winky spotted Dumbledore lying on the floor.
"Professor Dumbledore, is you alright?" she screamed.
"He will be once you bring me my equipment, now move!" Snape foot was already in motion in kick Winky from the room, but she disappeared with a crack, causing Snape to miss, and promptly fall to the ground. Before anybody in the room had a chance to laugh, Harry and Hermione found themselves back outside the Pensieve, looking at a furious Dobby.
"That mean professor tried to hurt Winky! If Dobby ever finds him, he will defend her!"
"I get the greasy git first Dobby, but I promise I'll let you have a go at him too."
"Harry!" Hermione shrieked, "Don't encourage him! You know how much trouble Dobby could get in if he was caught attacking a wizard?"
Dobby seemed putout by her comment, but Harry calmly replied, "He's not a wizard, Hermione. He's a murdering git who deserves anything Dobby, me, you, Ron, or anybody else can throw at him." She didn't appear to have a retort, and promptly sat back down on the steps. Harry checked his watch, it was just past five in the morning; the sun would be coming up soon. "Is it safe to talk here Dobby? Can you tell if anyone is nearby?"
"It is very safe Harry Potter sir, Dobby charmed the area while you were in the bowl, sir!"
"Thanks Dobby." Harry bent down and picked up his money pouch, which definitely seemed heavier than when he put it down; Dobby was refusing to meet his eyes, and Harry decided to just let it go. "So Hermione, you wanted to know what happened in the graveyard?"
She was in something of a daze before he began talking, but snapped out quickly, "Yes I did. Do you know why that happened? I've never heard of any effect like that, and I know it wasn't because of the spells. I've check all of that through Arithmancy, and came up with nothing."
"It's called Priori Incantatem."
"Isn't that something about a reverse spell effect?" she replied, almost flabbergasted.
"When I went into Ollivander's to get my wand, it took forever. He kept shoving wand after wand in my hand; some of them he yanked back after I had hardly touched them. When he finally handed me this one, everything just clicked, but he just kept muttering `curious' under his breath. When he got around to it, he told me that the Phoenix who gave a tail feather for my wand's core, gave another feather. Just one. And that wand, gave me my scar." Hermione gasped, her mouth hanging open fully. "The weird part about it is the feathers in both our wands, came from Fawkes."
"You and Voldemort have the same wand?"
"Not quite. Mine's made of holly; his is yew, and a bit longer if I remember right. They're brother wands, and from what Dumbledore said after I came back from the graveyard, they'll never work properly if forced to fight each other. When our spells met, I never could have expected what happened, and I'm sure Voldemort was as shocked as I was. As soon as that beam was between our wands, I couldn't move my hand, like it had seized up on me, but my whole arm was vibrating from the power going between us. We were lifted across the graveyard somehow, and that gold web spread out around us, then it was almost like all the gold bits started singing. It was Fawkes' song, the same one I heard in the Chamber of Secrets, and, it gave me hope; it almost seemed to tell me what I had to do.
"Did you see inside the web?" She shook her head. "While our wands were connected, there were little balls of light, or whatever, and it took every ounce of energy I had in me, but I was able to concentrate enough to force them across the connection back into Voldemort's wand," Hermione was still gaping at him, "and all of the spells he had done with it started spewing out. Then the bodies. Dumbledore called them `echoes,' but they were almost real Hermione. Like a person, just made of smoke. First it was Cedric, then the old gardener from the Riddle house, and Bertha Jorkins, and then…" Harry trailed off; he still couldn't bring himself to say it.
"Your parents?" Harry could tell she was trying to be delicate, but there was no hiding the awe in her voice. "When I was watching your memory, I could see something moving around inside, but I couldn't get in. When the webbing vanished, and you took off across the graveyard, I forgot to even look back. Did they talk to you?"
Between the stinging in his eyes, and the large lump in his throat Harry couldn't reply right away, but she seemed to understand, and put an arm across his back. It took a few minutes before he regained control of his body, and Hermione refused to let go even as he felt the shivers down his spine subside. "My mum… She told me it was going to be alright… She told me… Told me to hold on… Hold on for my dad… When he came… He told me how to get back… And Cedric… Asked… He asked me to bring his body back for his parents… When I broke the connection, they stayed for a couple of seconds, and blocked his view so I could escape. They saved me." Harry buried his head into her shoulder and lost control. As many times as he had talked with his friends about that night, even in his interview for the Quibbler, he had purposely neglected mentioning what happened inside the sphere. It took a little over two years, but Harry finally let it out.
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At first being held by Hermione had made Harry feel a little ashamed of himself, but she only cinched him tighter when he tried to wiggle free. He was unsure how long they stayed in that position, but when he finally lifted his head he noticed the sun had properly risen. Dobby was still there, curled up in the grass next to Harry's bag, softly snoring.
"Do you feel any better?" Hermione delicately asked.
When he took a moment to think about it, Harry realized he felt a lot better. He wasn't exactly happy, but there was a certain calmness; almost peaceful feeling he hadn't known for what seemed like ages. "Loads. Has anyone every told you that you work miracles?"
"Not recently," she said, her cheeks turning slightly pink. "I can't believe we stayed out here all night, my mum's going to have kittens when she realizes I'm not in my bed."
"Well, I could come by and take the blame-"
"Harry, the last thing I need after staying out all night, is to come home with a boy."
"Oh. Right. Really, I was just-"
"Of course you were, but I need to get going. I'll meet you at the Burrow for lunch?"
Harry had finally been told earlier that day that it was safe for him to join the Weasley's, and he was looking forward to it, but ever since Ginny's letter, a slight feeling of dread had been growing.
"Harry, I'm sure it will be fine, just don't let her corner you. See you soon!" and with that, she Disapparated with a soft pop.
Harry picked up his bag, which was already packed, along with everything else he owned, slipped a couple of Galleons into the still sleeping Dobby's pockets, and Apparated back to Privet Drive, figuring he might as well take a shower before continuing on his journey.
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