The Battle Standard
by Jardyn39
Harry slept fitfully that night. He was both exhausted by the day's exertions and disappointed to find that Hermione had been out when he'd called her that evening.
Finally he succumbed to sleep.
He found himself dreaming he was running around a strange field, struggling to carry the shield and swords as all around him wizards battled furiously with each other. The vambraces and cuisse were uselessly tucked under both arms and he assumed he had already lost the breastplate and broadsword as he stumbled around clumsily.
Suddenly everything when quiet.
Harry looked up and saw the field was clear now, but there was a single line of hundreds of wizards at the edge of the battlefield, all looking at him. They were too far away to make out their faces.
He then felt a presence and turned to see Dumbledore standing before him.
He smiled at once, but he faltered seeing Dumbledore's terrible expression. His eyes, so often warm and mischievous, looked at him with cold hatred.
"Are you prepared to pay for what you have done?" demanded Dumbledore.
"I, er," said Harry, almost dropping his sword.
"Will you not even show contrition?"
"Don't you recognise me?" said Harry, quite forgetting this was a dream.
"I have been too indulgent with you, Harry."
"What?"
"I told myself that it was their choice to make. I believe in choices, as you know. However, my inaction has cost lives."
"But."
"You, on the other hand-"
"No, wait! Please, Professor!" said Harry, dropping the shield.
"Pick it up. You put your faith in these trinkets, didn't you?"
"No," he replied, but found himself scrambling to pick up the heavy shield again. "Professor, I'll do better."
"More promises, Harry?" said Dumbledore, raising his wand.
*
Harry woke with a start. It was some minutes before he could see anything but the image of his own death at Dumbledore's hands.
Shaking violently, Harry made his way down to the kitchen. He fully intended to Floo back to Hermione. He would have Disapparated, but he knew he might end up anywhere at that moment.
Harry paused, trying to remember which pot contained the Floo Powder by the fireplace, when Ollivander said, "Don't forget your wand."
Harry couldn't be shocked any more at that point.
Instead he just sank to his knees.
Ollivander came out of the shadows and casually made them both some tea. It was still dark out and when he'd calmed a little Harry could hear Moody's distant snoring.
*
Harry slumped down at the table as Ollivander placed a mug of tea before him and then sat down opposite.
"You knew this would happen," said Harry darkly.
"How could it not?"
"What am I supposed to learn from that dream?"
"Very little, I suspect. Of course, I happen to know you'll do better next time."
"How do you mean?"
"Simply, that you will have that same dream again. I don't know, but I suspect that you applied nothing of what you learned today. How did you carry your shield, for instance?"
"I, er, just carried it with my hands. I dropped it too."
Ollivander nodded and took a sip of tea.
"As I said, you'll do better next time. You will learn from your mistakes, as will I."
Harry merely shrugged.
"Harry, I tried to combine something Dumbledore wanted with something I wanted. My motives were entirely selfish, and as a result I failed miserably."
"Miserably? That's hardly how I'd describe it. Hermione and I barely got out of that tower in time."
"But you did get out," said Ollivander quickly but seeing Harry's expression harden he went on. "Actually, that situation should never have arisen. One of the idiots building the Arena discovered you were both there and spread the word. I had intended to move you that night but, as you probably gathered, they had other ideas. You had gone by the time I discovered they had gained access to the tower. I would have been back earlier but the Dark Lord had summoned me."
"So, what were you trying to do?"
"Dumbledore never told me why you were so special to him. Of course, he had a fondness for most of his students. Sometimes I felt he liked the more disreputable ones better than most. You, however, meant something more.
"I wondered for a while if you could be related in some way, but I'm sure you were not. That left only one possibility, that he thought you had a destiny of some kind. I myself speculated upon just such an eventuality in my letter to him when your wand chose you.
"It was also clear to me that Dumbledore was doing his level best to protect you. I almost put this down to the debt we all owe you for ridding us of the Dark Lord the first time.
"However, it seemed clearer than ever when he allowed you to compete in the Tri Wizard Tournament that there had to be something more."
"It was a binding magical contract," Harry reminded him. "They said I had to compete."
"Nonsense," said Ollivander dismissively. "Dumbledore would have got anyone else off somehow. No. Part of him wanted you to compete. He was preparing you, even if things did go a little awry."
Harry looked up to see Ollivander grinning at him.
"So," continued Ollivander brightly, "the only thing I could think of that half made sense was if Dumbledore believed you stood a chance of defeating the Dark Lord a second time.
"I knew I could be very wrong, of course. No-one will be more delighted than I to see the last of the Dark Lord, but I would have been taking quite a risk siding with you if I was wrong.
"That is when I decided I would try and test you. If you lived up to Dumbledore's expectations, I would help you. If you died, I'd just have to take the credit and throw my lot in with the Dark Lord."
"So why didn't you kill me and be done with it?"
"Well, the Dark Lord gave very specific instructions that you were not to be killed, for one thing. In addition, although your earlier efforts were rather pitiful, I could see that you had potential. That's the trouble being taught by good people, you lack a killer's edge."
Harry nodded.
"Have you asked yourself how you could improve your chances?"
"I ask myself that every waking minute."
"I could tell you now, but you won't like it," warned Ollivander.
"Go on, then," prompted Harry.
"I'll only tell you if you agree to hear me out. You'll want to storm out of here, I promise you."
"Okay, I'll listen."
Ollivander cleared his throat and hesitated before saying, "Harry, the Dumbledore in your dream is very different from the Dumbledore you thought you knew. Your Dumbledore had wisdom and compassion to guide him. The Dumbledore who killed Caedo only had power. It really was a major turning point in his life."
"What are you saying?" demanded Harry angrily and standing up. "You sound like he only became good after that."
"Not good as such, no. He had done good deeds before then, and a few not-so-nice things. Up to then, Dumbledore never worried about tempering the use of his powers. That's why he killed so many during the war in Europe."
"All I can say is that Dumbledore never abused his strength to my knowledge," said Harry, barely able to control himself. "I can't believe him capable of using his magical abilities without considering the consequences."
"Look, Caedo wasn't in Dumbledore's league and he knew it," pushed Ollivander. "That day changed Dumbledore; for the better in my view."
"Do have a point to make?" demanded Harry rudely.
"It's time for you to kill a little of that goodness in you, Harry. You must fight and kill Dumbledore, Harry."
Harry furiously kicked his chair away, but Ollivander grabbed hold of his forearm, his face showing desperation as he tried to get Harry to understand him. There was no strength at all in Ollivander's grip and Harry easily pulled his arm away.
"Please, Harry. Think about it. Dumbledore in the dream is symbolic."
Harry took two steps towards the rear door. It was still quite dark outside but Harry needed to get away.
Ollivander produced his wand and pointed it at Harry.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," said Moody's threatening voice from the doorway, his own wand pointing straight at Ollivander.
Realising Moody must only have been pretending to sleep, Harry wrenched the door open and went out into the cool night.
*
Harry heard Moody's swearing and loud mutterings before the bushes behind him were pushed aside.
"Ah, there you are," said Moody. "I woke when I heard you shouting at Ollivander, but I didn't really catch the gist. Ollivander said something about Dumbledore killing you in a dream?"
"He's insane."
"So, what did he say that upset you so much?"
"Well, first he accused Dumbledore of not acting with wisdom and compassion until the day he killed Caedo."
Moody swore under his breath.
"It just doesn't match what I knew of him," continued Harry. "Once before, Ollivander himself told me that Dumbledore didn't hand him over to the Wizengamot. Was there no compassion there?" he asked rhetorically.
"Harry, I agree with you, but there is one thing," said Moody carefully. "Think to your own life and experiences. Can you honestly say that you can't remember any instance when something happened, perhaps something you did, or did not do, that didn't affect you in some way?"
He remembered at once that last night, when he'd joined Dumbledore in his office. If only he had refused to leave and made his Headmaster stay to defend the school. He could have asserted himself and made a difference, but he hadn't. This had been the subject of much sober reflection in Harry's mind and he'd resolved to consider the consequences of his actions far more carefully from then on.
Harry nodded to agree but realised he was communicating the opposite thing.
"Yes, I can think of a few things like that."
"Well, Dumbledore was the same. That day did affect him. I think he partly blamed himself for what happened before and resolved to do better by his students."
"Did you ever talk to him about it?"
"I did ask, but we'd both been drinking. I can't say I remember what he told me too clearly."
Harry smiled weakly.
"It was the second thing Ollivander said that upset me," admitted Harry. "He said I was to kill Dumbledore."
"What?"
"I think Ollivander knew somehow what I was dreaming."
"What were you dreaming?"
"I was Caedo, standing in the middle of a field surrounded by people watching from a distance. Dumbledore killed me and I woke up."
Moody nodded slowly.
"He kept saying you'll do better next time. Ollivander, I mean."
"Can you describe the landscape?"
"It was just a dream."
"Humour me, will you?"
"The sun was shining and there were only a few clouds. Underfoot it was medium length green grass. It wasn't cut short exactly, but it looked like grazing animals kept the length down. There was a gentle dip were we were, so everyone else looked down. Behind the line of wizards were trees. I think it was summer because there were plenty of green leaves. I think there was a fallen tree too."
"That pretty much describes the actual scene, Harry. Did you see any bodies?"
"No, there were none at all that I saw."
"Well, that's different. How old was Dumbledore?"
Harry turned at once.
"He was old looking! He should have had brown hair!"
"How did you know that?"
"Um, I saw Dumbledore when Riddle pretended to catch the creature from the Chamber of Secrets. It must have been just a dream, after all," he added hopefully, although he didn't entirely believe this himself.
Moody placed a reassuring hand on Harry's shoulder.
"Okay, now as I see it we have two choices. Well, you have two choices. We can throw Ollivander out now or we can actually continue. I suppose that would mean you fighting Dumbledore again."
"There is no choice," Harry replied miserably. "Dumbledore started all this and besides, Ollivander hasn't done anything actually dangerous yet."
"Do you think Caedo's equipment is charmed?"
"I'm sure the shield is, anyway. That's why Ollivander made me clean it up."
"Mm," agreed Moody. "I'm sorry, Harry."
"What are you sorry for?"
"I honestly believed you were supposed to learn how to use that junk. I think I've been wasting your time."
Harry shook his head and said, "No. I think knowing how to use those things is part of all this. I just wish Ollivander would be a bit clearer."
"Come on," said Moody gruffly. "I told Ollivander to have breakfast ready before we got back."
*
Ollivander insisted that they abandon the practise set and only use Caedo's weapons from now on. Moody demonstrated use of the broadsword and Harry had a brief go but could hardly levitate the thing off the ground. Fortunately, Ollivander didn't seem too bothered by them moving onto the shorter swords.
Harry drove each sword onto the soft lawn just as he had seen Ollivander do, and stood between them. He was amazed to find he could feel the handles being attracted to each other, rather like large magnets.
"Use your mind," directed Ollivander. "These are not much different from a broomstick. Command them with your mind."
It took Harry ages before he could even get the swords to rise up out of the ground, but once they began to move, it was easy. Soon the blades were revolving around him at extraordinary speed.
"Slow down, Harry," said Ollivander.
Just as he said this, Harry realised he knew how to speed the blades up but not down. This lapse in concentration broke the connection with the swords.
One sword flew off and dug itself deep into the lawn. The other narrowly missed Moody's head.
"I'm so sorry!" shouted Harry, running over.
"No harm done," said Moody, picking the sword up and handing it back.
"Try again with only one sword," suggested Ollivander, summoning the other sword back.
"Oh, but," began Moody, but was silenced by a look from Ollivander.
Harry caught the exchange but decided he ought to try anyway. He was confident he wouldn't be able to do it since he now understood what Ollivander meant about it being easier with two.
The sword rose up and began to rotate slowly. Harry walked forward a couple of paces and the sword moved with him.
Now for the difficult bit, he thought.
Harry willed the revolving sword to rotate about him, so it was moving at his back. The sword was still moving slowly and he could hear the distinct sound of the blade cutting through the air.
He turned to face the other two. Moody had moved away a few paces. Ollivander flicked his wand and the second sword flew over to Moody. It froze in mid-air, now controlled by Moody.
"On guard!" Moody yelled.
Before he knew what was happening, Harry's sword had swung over his head to clash with Moody's sword.
Moody fired a couple of hexes and then attacked again with the sword.
*
Harry was quite exhausted when he finally rested his head down on his pillow that night. At Ollivander's direction, Moody had gradually increased the ferocity of his attacks. All the while Ollivander contributed the odd hex or two but for the most part stayed out of the conflict.
The last thing they tried was for Harry to resume wearing the shield as well as the body protection whilst controlling the swords. This was just too much for Harry and he was glad when they soon finished for the evening after that.
The problem, Harry knew, was that the concentration required to hold the swords just a little further away was much greater.
The old good news, mused Harry, was that at least Ollivander didn't seem entirely dissatisfied with his progress, although he was sure Moody had threatened him.
Harry smiled to himself when he remembered that tomorrow it would at long last be Friday.
Moody had promised he could have the weekend off provided he put in a long day Friday and agreed to return early Monday at the latest. He'd originally stipulated that Harry had to return Sunday but he'd put his foot down at that.
Harry drifted off into sleep hoping the weather would be fine for Saturday's Quidditch match and wondering what the teams would be like.
*
Harry found himself surrounded by the noise of hundreds of people yelling. Almost at once they fell silent and he knew he was dreaming again.
Harry quickly hoisted his shield across his back and set one of his shorted swords rotating at his back before picking up the second. He found he was already wearing the body armour this time. He considered the broadsword that lay by his feet but decided against trying to use it as he'd hardly even managed to pick it up before.
Dumbledore was standing a few feet away, looking unconcerned but still just as angry as the first time Harry had seen him.
Harry decided not to wait for Dumbledore's torments this time, although he still wasn't sure if they had been aimed at Caedo or himself.
He charged forward and thrust out his sword, transferring his wand to his right hand the moment he let go.
Dumbledore easily parried the blade with a flick of his wand but Harry brought the sword at his back around quickly. Harry gave a defiant yell as another hex hit him painfully on his arm.
Dumbledore took a step backwards.
The two swords were now rotating around Harry like helicopter rotors and he advanced again to press home his advantage. Raising his wand to fire, Harry looked into Dumbledore's calm blue eyes and made a fatal hesitation.
Just as the blades were about to slice into Dumbledore, Harry tried to pull back but lost control of the rotating swords.
Dumbledore flicked his wand and both of the swords flew off in different directions.
Just as Harry looked wildly around to see where they had gone, he was struck from behind.
Harry slumped forward, coughing blood. His own blade was now sticking out of the side of his chest and had sunk into the grass under his weight.
He looked up but barely had time to see Dumbledore's cold look.
He did not see the second blade, but thought he could heard a whoosh the moment before his head fell to the ground.
*
Harry woke fighting for his breath. Instinctively he brought both hands up and felt around his neck, just to be sure his head was still attached.
As he gradually calmed, he realised his arm was still painful.
He got up and staggered to the bathroom. Lighting a candle, he was concerned to find his forearm was badly burned.
Harry washed the wound and then performed a healing charm. Unfortunately, his skin still hurt just as much and looked rather red.
He would ask Moody to have another go with a healing charm in the morning.