The Phoenix riddle hath more wit…
We die and rise the same and prove
Mysterious by this love.
-John Donne, The Canonization
They were having tea in Minerva's office when the spine-chilling death-shriek of the castle's alarm went off. Tea was abruptly abandoned for racing at a breakneck pace for the headmaster's office. Two cups and saucers toppled off the desk, shattering as they hit the floor. They were paid no mind.
The gargoyle barely jumped aside in time as they both snapped the password, and headed up the moving stairs, wands out. Severus was first, but he stopped dead in the doorway. Minerva ran into the taller man, and spent about ten seconds trying to look past him, frozen stock-still. Then he turned to look at her, his face as frozen a mask as the steel one of the Death Eaters, and stepped into the room. She looked, gasped, and started forward, only to be held back by Severus's iron grip on her shoulder.
"Is he...?" Her voice was faint as she looked at the runes and symbols inscribed across a large cleared portion of the floor of his office. Some were recognizable to her, advanced Transfiguration symbology, while others, like the flowing script that predominated, were completely alien. In the center of a seven-pointed star inscribed in a circle on the cleared floor lay the body of Albus Dumbledore. The runes continued seamlessly from the floor to his body, except these incisions welled with darkened blood. One slit wrist was held over the stone basin of a pensieve, the left held tightly a chain in silver. He was far too pale, and the blood that he had spilled had seeped throughout the diagram. Power hummed throughout. The pensieve filled to overflowing, and shattered, and now the lines of the spell were outlined in bright silver thoughtstuff. The air around the points of the star began to writhe and seethe.
"Minerva..." Severus's voice sounded heavy. "At this point it would be suicidal to interfere. It's obvious he's planned this...theatrical performance...for a reason. And breaking the circle of the spell to save his life would ruin what he's working on here."
"But...what if it's You-know-who? Severus, we can't leave him to -die-!" Minerva struggled fruitlessly against Snape's grip. "Severus, that's an -order-!"
"Voldemort wouldn't have left Fawkes alive." Snape nodded grimly at the phoenix, who trilled an apparently unconcerned greeting at the two of them. The spell peaked, and Snape finally released McGonagall in the flash of white light.
She staggered back at the unexpected brightness, but maintained enough composure to level a wand at the figure out of a nightmare that stared across the circle. His wand was pointed at her as soon as she moved, but both of them were cautious enough not to immediately curse the other. Minerva spared a glance at Severus, noting he was in a similar standoff with a man who looked...oh my.
Minerva had the presence of mind to keep the boy who looked -oh so much- like young Tom Riddle at wandpoint, but her attention was elsewhere. Those were Severus' eyes she was staring at, in a beautiful and deadly face that had some of Severus, yes, but it was the usually hidden sensual side of Severus that she rarely if ever saw. She had the self-control to refrain from gaping mindlessly at him, but she doubted he would notice, as he was staring in quiet horror at Severus. Others were there, but they were not –dangerous- like the boy and Severus's shadow.
The standoff continued, as both sides looked each other over. Minerva became painfully aware that she was outnumbered seven to two. Finally, one of the younger boys, in black students robes with a Gryffindor prefect's badge, knelt by the prone body. A very young blond Slytherin hesitated, and then darted out from the protective shadow of the boy who looked like Tom to kneel beside him. Both sides watched as the elder prefect examined the artifact in the corpse's left hand, then closed his eyes. The younger brother (the resemblance was obvious) imitated him a bit awkwardly.
The elder's voice – eerily familiar except for the emotional intensity underlying the calmness, began to speak softly. "Into your hands, O merciful Savior, we commend your servant. Acknowledge, we humbly beseech you…"
The dark-haired boy who looked so very much like Tom audibly snorted. Two others, a boy and a girl who appeared to be students, were very quietly conversing. The elder boy did not halt his recitation, but rather looked at the other students with a tilted head. The dark boy scowled, and turned a full-fledged glare on the younger of the kneeling boys.
"…a sinner of your own redeeming." the Gryffindor had not stopped at the interruption. "Receive him into the arms of your mercy, into the blessed rest of everlasting peace, and into the glorious company of the saints in light."
The younger boy pitched in, late enough by about half a second for it to be awkward. He was squirming under the dark boy's disdainful stare. " Amen."
"May his soul and the souls of all the departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace."
"Amen." Minerva joined the boys in their solemn chorus in this time, and was acknowledged by a briefly raised eyebrow in her direction. The familiar blue eyes – too familiar – transfixed her. The boy gently untangled the silver chain from Albus' unresisting fingers. As soon as the silver no longer touched the corpse's skin, Albus dissolved into nothing, prompting a few startled yelps and an identical oath from both Severus and his shadow. The little boy in Slytherin green was shaking as his brother turned to him and they shared a long look. The elder then clasped the chain around his brother's neck, and Minerva caught sight of a starkly simple silver cross for a moment before it was tucked under the boy's robes. The youngest then started back to his previous position, slowing a bit under the positively murderous glare of the tall dark boy but squaring his shoulders and returning defiant to his previous place. The staring contest showed all signs of starting again, except for the swift casting of a disarming spell by a craggy-faced man who had looked relatively innocuous compared to the dark boy and his mentor. Minerva's wand zoomed out of her hand. Severus blocked initially, but soon found his wand in the hand of his shadow.
"Well-spelled, Adrastus. Marvolo, watch them. Now what do we have here?" The dark man looked down at the intricate diagram etched into the solid rock of the floor. Not that the floor was normally solid rock, Minerva thought hazily. Was this what Albus intended? And who was the boy whose cold gaze reminded her of the young Lord Voldemort? Tom Marvolo Riddle…who was this Marvolo? What had Albus been thinking? Why did he have to die now?
"Mr. Dumbledore, these look like your scribbles. Care to make some sense of them for us?
Minerva froze. No. It couldn't be…but the auburn-haired prefect that unconcernedly moved to stand by 'Adrastus' moved like him, and had his piercing eyes. Fawkes sang a short burst of song, and heads turned curiously.
"Gesius, tell me that's not a phoenix."
"I would if it happened not to be." the dark man said dryly. Minerva dared a glance at Severus, who was scowling fiercely at the Marvolo boy. He, in turn, was staring at Snape with no little curiosity.
The young Dumbledore traced the incomprehensible spell diagram with the barest wrinkle in his brow. He spoke slowly. "Professor…this isn't a summoning spell.
Adrastus looked up from rummaging through papers on Dumbledore's desk. Her desk now, Minerva remembered with a wince. What had Albus done? Who were these people? "Well, what is it?" He was now examining the walls, approaching the secluded corner in which Dumbledore kept the numerous honors people insisted on giving him. He was holding a sheaf of letters. "Gesius, come look at this…"
He did. And whistled. "Someone's been busy."
The young Dumbledore continued. "It appears to be a resurrection spell of some sort. Memory is tied in somewhere, but the structural loops of the spell were on the body, sir. I could try to reconstruct it, but it would most likely take several years."
The entire room stared at him as he stated that matter-of-factly.
"Impossible." growled Adrastus. Frowning, he flipped through the sheaf of papers, finding an envelope with his own name on it. He saw the date then, and blanched. Tearing open the letter, he glanced through it and if possible turned even whiter. "Gesius…read your letter? It might make more sense than mine." He handed it over, and Adrastus continued ruffling through the papers. "Who's Severus Snape?"
"Present." Snape didn't even try to hide the irritation in his tone as he scowled blackly at the people who had commandeered Dumbledore's office, one of his few safe havens anywhere. At least they had not shown any inclination of wanting to torture him yet. He caught the letter with a raised eyebrow – apparently the two men had decided he was harmless. Well, it wouldn't do to disillusion them now, especially as the Gesius person had his wand. Tearing the envelope open, he started reading, wondering with a foreboding feeling what was within. The salutation was neutral enough:
Severus-
I suppose most of all what I am doing is giving myself another chance. While others have found it easy to gain my forgiveness, I have never forgiven myself for things that should not have been. I have been as blind as any all these past decades, and while others may believe me infallible I know that I have my limits.
Men che dramma
Di sangue m'è rimaso, che no tremi;
Conosco i segni dell' antica fiamma.
As I write this, I am dying, slowly but surely. I would not have lasted the summer, even without my project. I sought the solution to the phoenix riddle for both phoenix and Riddle…and partly, as always, because I could, because there are actions I regret with all my heart. And because I am old – after I die they should otherwise be no more remembered. You cannot imagine how I felt when I saw that the brilliant boy had solved what I had dismissed as impossible because he did not know it was impossible – and how I feared that mind twisted as far as it is as a weapon against the light…
Author's Note:
This piece is placed up here, as usual, mainly for my own amusement. It may or may not be continued, depending on my fickle mood. Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling, and she's welcome to him – I claim no ownership of those characters. Other characters present are the debatable property of the delightful Minerva McTabby, hijacked from the 1855 Marvoloverse of 'Two Worlds and In-Between', which I am certain will become a cult classic as soon as it is publicly released. I say debatable because they seem to own her more than she owns them. Julius is especially Imperio-happy, and doesn't like to play nice with his author (or indeed anyone). If you've read thus far and are not confused out of your proverbial gourd, I suggest you try my other public story 'Blood Runs True', which is almost guaranteed to confuse in places. Otherwise, don't bother, or read it just for the one-liners.
-teluekh: 'Aberforth Dumbledore gets my goat'