RETURN TO SENDER
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Chapter Two. Valhalla …
Albus Dumbledore was fuming.
He was completely out of sorts - bad enough that he was in a place he totally was unprepared for, bad enough that his throat and gonads hurt from being clawed twice but to be caught in some crisis or emergency which he knew nothing about - and his name associated with whatever it was!
Add to that the fact that he was imprisoned on a derelict, dingy barge in the middle of the Styx, held incommunicado by a silent, brooding, unresponsive woman who was staring at the riverbank with worried eyes.
The only 'good' thing, as far as Dumbledore was concerned, was that someone had shut off the sirens and that discordant, strident 'announcer' had fallen silent. There was also the fact that fog had rolled in - reducing the brimstone that he'd inhaled earlier but, it seemed to have hidden the barge from those on the riverbank.
A flash of light and he started - gasped as a whimpered "no" escaped his lips.
A young woman with dishevelled, bushy brown hair in bloodied Gryffindor robes appeared on the riverbank, wiping a bloody face with one hand while the other gripped her wand. She looked around in shock, turning rapidly from side to side in apparent disorientation before she slumped to the ground, her shoulders shaking as she shook her head in clear denial of her situation …
"Do you know that young lady?"
Dumbledore nodded, throat tight as he croaked, "Hermione Granger … brilliant witch, top of her class … intelligent enough for Ravenclaw but with the courage to be sorted Gryffindor. She's also the best friend, one of them at least, of Harry James Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived."
He could feel the woman's stare, waiting for clarification but he couldn't respond … his mind was completely engaged in trying to understand how and why in the name of Merlin's hairy balls, Hermione Granger was here. Severus was supposed to PROTECT her - stun her, distract her, lock her up in the dungeons …
She was a key component of THE PLAN and if she were here … He shut his eyes tightly as his stomach lurched, wild thoughts rampaging through his mind …
How will Harry get THE BOOK? How will Harry learn about the Hallows … understand what was hidden in the snitch he bequeathed to the boy … realize that he had to die to release Riddle's abomination before he could finish him off?
His thoughts were distracted by his agitated companion stomping the deck, accompanied by brief snatches of unsettled words: "Destiny Repair … why declare Valhalla …" Frowning, he watched as she jabbed at a silver ornament on her chest, mumbling, "Come on, come on … lousy communicator! What are they doing, sleeping on the job? Come on …"
She paused as more flashes appeared - and Dumbledore blinked at the sight of a headless George Weasley, his severed head held like a Quaffle under one arm, and Alastair 'Mad-Eye' Moody in a combat stance scanning his surroundings from a single eye - an empty socket where his magical eye should be.
Dumbledore flinched as Hermione, who'd looked up at their arrival, screamed and scrabbled away from the pair - stopping only when, with a cheeky grin, George placed his head on his neck before holding out his hand to her.
A brief flash and a white blur streaked down, screeching loudly, Hermione looked up and held out her arm to the diving blur. A quick flap of wings and Hedwig, Harry's snowy owl, landed on her arm, to be engulfed in a gentle hug from the teen.
"What in Artemis' name is going on?" The woman's distressed whisper was met by more flashes: Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour in their wedding finery, with Fleur's sister Gabrielle in her bridesmaid's attire … Amos Diggory and his wife … Rufus Scrimgeour, shaking his leonine head in confusion … all of them with blood-splattered clothes or mangled limbs …
It seemed as if their arrival triggered a flood - a continuous stream of flashes signalled the arrival of more and more people and Dumbledore could only gape as he recognized them: Arthur and Charlie Weasley with Professors McGonagall and Flitwick, the latter with an empty sleeve flapping in the breeze, the four seemingly guarding two people in muggle clothing who were tackled by Hermione Granger …
"Hermione's parents? They're muggles!" He glared accusingly at the quiet woman standing beside him. "I thought you said this was Magical Hades -"
"Love is a magic of its own, Dumbledork," was the cold reply backed by Arctic-blue eyes. "Besides, didn't you get the memo? THIS -" the woman gestured towards the shore - "is no longer HADES."
Dumbledore gulped once, twice, before forcing the word through his lips. "Valhalla?"
The icy-cold eyes held him for a long moment before she turned away, leaving Dumbledore gaping.
'Valhalla,' he thought. 'The Hall of Heroes where champions chosen or favoured by the gods were escorted, to be feted and honoured …'
He looked up to see Hestia Jones and Kingsley Shacklebolt arrive with Susan Bones and Hannah Abbot in tow, followed shortly by the dreadlocked Lee Jordan and the ladies of the Gryffindor Quidditch team; Pomona Sprout, Professors Vector, Sinistra and Babbling with a crowd of Hogwarts students from all houses and ages; an obviously pregnant Nymphadora Tonks with her parents, a large cat with a squashed-in face in her arms. The cat quickly leaped into the open arms of Hermione before the latter wrapped Tonks in a bear hug.
Dumbledore closed his eyes tightly, biting down hard on his lip as the full impact of where he was and what he was seeing struck like a Bludger on his chest, driving the air from his lungs.
"Casualties," he whispered to himself. "Fallen fighters of the Light against the scourge that is Voldemort and his Death Eaters."
He bowed his head in grief - he'd known that the Light would suffer losses but he hadn't anticipated so many! He couldn't help but wonder if his death had triggered a rampage - hearing a scream, he looked up in time to see Ginny, Fred and Ron Weasley arrive: Fred mobbed by his twin and the Gryffindors; Arthur, Bill and Charlie in a many armed hug with Ginny; a visibly raging Hermione Granger slapping Ron …
Dumbledore felt faint - what had Ronald done to elicit such a reaction from Hermione? Unless Granger had gone mental at the thought of Harry being left behind? He snorted softly - 'Idiot!' he thought. 'So what if Harry was left behind … for as long as he lives, there is hope for the Light …'
He blinked as a loud, resounding cheer erupted from the crowd - one look and he was jumping up and down, fists pumping in the air, the barge rocking erratically as he let out a whoop of such joy that his companion had to clamp her hands to her ears -
Harry Potter had arrived - dishevelled hair, twisted glasses, dirt- and blood-stained clothes, Remus Lupin and Molly Weasley behind him. The sad, haunted expression on the young hero's face morphed into a wide smile as he caught sight of the brown-haired missile heading his way -
He frowned as he watched Harry catch her in mid-leap as a snowy owl looped and dived, barking in excitement; around their ankles, a flat-faced half-kneazle wound his way between and around their legs. Behind them, Remus and Molly were being hugged, kissed, embraced, pounded on the back by family and friends …
'That wouldn't do!' Dumbledore thought; 'Harry has to go back - he has to finish Voldemort off, it was his destiny!'
He turned to his companion, his words coming so fast that he was near-stuttering: "I need to go there … I need to talk with Harry, quickly! He has got to go back - he's finally rid himself of Riddle's horcrux and he now has a chance! He has to go back … PLEASE - I NEED TO TALK TO HIM!"
He ignored the narrow-eyed, speculative look the woman gave him as he silently ran through his speech, his inflections, the tone of his voice … he'd hug the boy first, tell him how proud he was of him, inform Harry of the Hallows and how he must go back to finish Voldemort off - that Harry's destiny was to destroy Riddle so that the magical world could continue in peace…
He was so engrossed in his thoughts and plans that he didn't realize the crowd on the riverbank had fallen silent as they watched a shimmering aura like spun gold weaving between and within Harry and Hermione.
It was the sarcastic, coldly angry voice of his companion which cut through his fevered thoughts: "What do you mean he's going back, Bumbledork? He's dead!"
He whirled, blue eyes blazing as he replied, "He can't be dead! The prophecy said he is the only one who can defeat Voldemort!"
"Dead is dead, old man. The only way he can go back now is as a ghost - IF he wants to go back."
Dumbledore smirked, a superior grin on his face as he educated the clueless woman: "He's NOT dead! The Killing Curse separates the soul from the body - cast on him it will only release the accidental horcrux that Voldemort created when he tried to kill Harry in 1981.
"Harry has to go back and finish Voldemort. It's his destiny!
"I need to go there - I need to talk to him, convince him to go back - remind him of his destiny as the Boy-Who-Lived, the Chosen One prophesied to finally defeat the Dark - urk!"
Steel-like fingers grabbed his robes at the throat and he was dragged to the barge's railings as the woman whispered harshly: "Kind of hard for The Chosen One to come back when he doesn't have any BODY to go back to, innit?"
Dumbledore struggled to get free from the madwoman's grip - and gaped as he caught sight of a horrific sight: Hermione had opened Harry's bloody shirt, revealing a cavernous hole where his chest would be.
The woman continued, "Looks like he's been run through with a sword or a pike …"
"Wizards don't use sw-" His angry retort was stopped as she cut in: "But goblins do."
He slumped to the deck as his mind raced: a Horcrux in Gringotts where the prominent Death Eaters like Malfoy, Lestrange, Parkinson, Nott had vaults … Harry must have learned of one, tried to get in to destroy it but with Bill here, he had no one to advise him … and suffered for his ignorance.
Dumbledore's chest tightened. Harry was dead - cut down by goblin pike or sword, probably with his head staked out on the front of the bank. The Killing Curse would have removed Voldemort's soul fragment, leaving Harry's body and soul untouched - but the mortal wound meant that Harry's body, soul and horcrux were gone.
A faint, chirping sound erupted from the woman's chest but Dumbledore ignored it; he didn't notice his companion turn away as she breathed, "Finally!" to herself. All he could hear was the sound of wind in his ears; all he could see was the ragged, cavernous wound on Harry's chest -
The hands gripping the railing started shaking as his mind processed the sight and he knew - his grand plan had failed. All because of a reckless bint who had more courage than brains … Granger should have gone to Ravenclaw, he thought … he shouldn't have entrusted her with the book, shouldn't have made her part of his PLAN, should have tried to separate her from Harry …
He threw back his head and SCREAMED - a loud, wailing, indecipherable wail of sheer pain and wretched frustration which tore through the landscape, deepening the aching hurt of those on shore even as they looked around in fear, confused as to the source of that painful wail.
No one could see the fog-shrouded barge in the middle of the river where a despondent Dumbledore sat, gnarled hands over his face as sobs escaped his throat, drowning out a peculiar humming nearby; he didn't see blue and silver sparkles forming; didn't feel the sudden rocking as three forms materialized on the deck.
A squat, barrel-chested man with clearly powerful arms and legs, wrapped in greasy, slimy cloths appeared. He was bearded, had bushy eyebrows and wild, metallic grey hair which surrounded sharp, dark eyes which flicked around the deck the moment his form solidified.
On either side stood a young woman wearing sleeveless fur vests, leather pants and knee-high boots of fur, arms sporting intricate tattoos, short swords hanging from belts, staves in one hand.
The barrel-chested man took one look at a still-sobbing Dumbledore, and cocked an inquiring eyebrow at the tall woman on the deck as he asked, "Wot's with the beard?"
The formidable woman cracked a smile. "He's had a bad day, Charon." As the squat man nodded, she turned to his companions and barked, "REPORT!"
Both young women saluted her with a fist to their chests. The one on the right spoke, "Captain Janeway's complements, Consort. The Queen asked for some help in locating you and uhmm …" Her eyes flicked to Dumbledore, who was staring at them. "… him. They'll handle transport to the Queen's location."
The woman nodded. She should have told her partner where she was headed but … She'd gone exploring when things got boring at the office. She'd wandered over here - she hadn't seen Charon in such a long time, had taken pity on the old guy and allowed him to take a break - How in Hades was she to know that a Valhalla Emergency would be declared?
She shook the thought off and composed herself. A slight tilt of her head and the two Amazons lifted a confused Dumbledore to his feet, their hands clamped on his elbows on either side. A final nod to Charon and she tapped the silver ornament on her chest, "Voyager, this is Xena. Four to beam up."
A tinny, female voice erupted from the ornament: "Roger, Xe. You'll be transported to Project Tic-Toc. Gabrielle will meet you there."
Xena's eyebrows rose; before she could say a word, she, Dumbledore and his Amazon guards were engulfed by silvery-blue sparkles as a strange humming filled the air before blinking out, leaving Charon alone, staring at the shore, wondering how in hell he was going to move that crowd across the river.
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