The Immorality of Immortality

It can't be that hard? Or maybe it is?

He stood there watching the clock tick back and forth, back and forth. His mind was racing as the book lay against his lap. The title stood out against the deep blue leather; 'The Second Wizarding War'. Albus Potter looked around at the crackling fire of the Gryffindor common room, the paintings that snoozed on the walls, and the odds and ends that cluttered the room; many of which had been moved from the old Headmaster's office into his respected house. Albus finally found his way back to the text, the page littered with facts about the man that started it all. Voldemort.

Horcruxes seem like a very extreme thing to do, Albus thought. He could feel his heartbeat in his chest, suddenly wondering what missing a piece of your soul would feel like.

There was a shout and a boy burst into the common room. His forehead was slick with blood and his eyes were searching wildly for something, someone. They landed on Albus and the boy's mouth opened, but was silent. He collapsed to the floor, his limbs twisted around him. Albus rushed from his seat, letting the book land haphazardly on the floor.
"Hey!" Albus calls, his voice echoing around the empty room. "Hey!"

The halls were quiet, strangely quiet. Albus couldn't help but think that death might be around every corner, through every door. He had gone to find someone to help the unconscious Gryffindor, but had now failed to find anyone. Too scared to call out, he slipped through the halls, using his knowledge of secret passages to get him through the castle at a fast pace. It wasn't until he was steps from the Headmaster's corridor – not knowing anywhere else to go – that he heard a voice.
"The time has come, my friends." The voice was cold, soft, and slippery. It glided over his skin and caused a shiver to fall across him. "The castle was deserted and its occupants unawares. Today we will find our master, today he will be avenged!" Albus' body was frozen, his heart almost still in his chest from fear. Everyone in his generation knew the story. How could you not? There was only one person they could be talking about.

The history books all say that the body of Lord Voldemort was kept at Hogwarts, to keep it safe and to make sure he could never rise again. The body, its location unknown to all but those who buried it, was also rumoured to have special powers – these rumours caused a stir with those who still called themselves faithful to the darkness. Death Eaters and their legacies lobbied, chanted, protested, and fought for his body to be returned. Albus never thought that they would go this far. They had broken into the castle.

He heard a noise behind him and whipped around to look. There was a girl, her blonde hair tied into a neat pony on top of her head. She had a fluffy yellow and black scarf wrapped around her neck over her pink pyjamas, the colours clashing together. Albus was unable to stop her before she let out a soft:
"What's happening?"

The talking and laughing from behind the wall stopped and a moment later five people, clad in black, came sweeping around the corner. Albus, tall for a seventeen year old, stepped in front of the first year, his wand arm stretched out.
"Ohh, look who it is, my lovelies," the woman standing in front of the others sneered. "It's one of Potters' kids." Her eyes darted down to the cowering little girl behind him. "Such a brave, stupid, young man. Just like his daddy." Her face was twisted into a scowl and her wand was in her hand in a flash. "Stupid, stupid, little boy."

Albus' mind was racing with everything that was happening. His parents had gone away for the Christmas break, and his siblings had decided to spend the holiday at their friends' homes. Albus was happy enough to stay here – Scorpius had stayed as well, and he could read all he liked. Now here he was, the school was almost empty, and no doubt the teachers were scattered across it doing their best to protect the students. That is, if they even knew. He could see the woman's hand move, and the last thing that flashed through his mind before he reacted was the book, now lying on the floor of the Gryffindor common room. His wand whipped up and his mouth formed the words before he realised what he was doing.
"Avada Kedavra..."

Her body fell in a flash of pure green light and a sharp pain shot through Albus. His thoughts were jumbled as he tried to focus solely on staying alive, protecting the girl. He stared at his wand, focusing on it to keep him there – or else the pain might have taken him.

After a moment the pain stopped. Everyone in the hall was staring at him, the men across were looking at him with a mixture of hate and shock. One a few seconds had expired since he cast the spell, and what he did was starting to settle in.
"You –" One of the Death Eaters began, but his sentence was cut off by a shout and Neville Longbottom came hurtling down the corridor.
"No!" He flicked his wand quickly and the Death Eaters were blown against the walls. Rope slowly wound its way around their legs and torsos. The Professor came to a breathy stop, looking between the two students and the enemy – particularly the one on the ground.
"Are you okay?" He asked, moving to stand in front of the body. Albus nodded, his eyes unfocused and hand limp at his side. His wand was still clutched in his hand, and Albus could have sworn he felt it pulse. Neville knelt in front of the first year, her body was pressed against Albus in fear.
"Chelsea? Can you hear me?" The girl burst into tears, throwing her arms around her Head of House. Neville whispered words of comfort to her, before standing and taking her hand. "Come on, we need to find safety. I doubt those were the only ones." Albus watched as Neville walked away, leaving the body behind him. He looked down at her, her face a mix of anger and shock, and wondered what had happened. His hands were buzzing and his chest felt a little emptier than before. Neville turned, looking back at him.
"Albus, we need to go. We can talk about what happened later."

What did happen? Albus mused as he followed the Professor. He looked down at the wand in his hand and couldn't help but wonder… Had I done it? Could it happen by accident if all of the coincidences lined up? No. No? Albus looked up, took a breath and felt fear start to bubble in the pit of his stomach.

A few days passed and the chaos of the attack seemed to die down. Albus was being kept in the hospital wing and he wasn't allowed to leave. They had called his parents, who had hurried to the school - along with his siblings - but were being kept far away from their son. Albus didn't think this was normal behaviour for someone in his situation. He kept trying to explain it away - but he didn't even get hurt in the attack. On top of the excruciatingly long check-up with Madame Pomfrey, he'd seen a healer from St. Mungo's and a specialist he'd never heard of. By the end of all of this there was only one thing he could conclude. Something had happened, and what ever that was, these people had very little to no experience with it. Except for maybe my father, Albus thought, biting his lip.

Deciding he'd had enough of this, he walked to the door of the almost empty hospital wing - all the other occupants had since been released or moved to St. Mungo's. He placed his hand on the door but as he went to open it, he heard voices coming from just behind it.
"There must be something we can do?"
"I'm sorry, Mr Potter. I have never heard of this happening before. And from what we can tell, the transition seemed to be an accident for your son."
"That's not good enough for me!" Albus recognised his father's voice, and knew that something really bad must be happening for him to sound this scared. "You have to reverse it!"
"You more than most, Mr Potter, must know that such a this is very difficult - if not impossible!" The other man seemed tired, and Albus guessed this was the specialist he had been seeing.
"What do we do then?" His mother, Ginny, spoke. Albus felt his heart ache. He hadn't seen her since the accident and craved her hug more than anything in that very moment.
"You have to make sure he knows what happened, and to protect the... uh - item - as much as you can. You can't ask him to give either of the things it has become now - even if it is in his best interest." Albus heard them walk towards the door and rushed back to his bed. As the door opened he flipped the sheets back over himself and steadied his breathing.

Harry and Ginny Potter carefully walked into the room, watching their son. His chest was rising and falling rhythmically, and they couldn't help but forget for a moment that there was something wrong. Harry took a deep breath and sat down on the bed next to the one Albus occupied, remembering all the times he had been stuck in this room, with no idea what was wrong. Ginny sat beside him, her hand slipping into her husbands.
"Albus, hunny?" She said softly, resting her free hand on his shoulder. Albus stirred, too look like he was waking up and turned to look at them.
"Mum? Dad?" He almost whispered. Ginny looked like she was about to cry, but his father looked almost proud of the teen.
"Albus, son. We need to tell you something," his voice was very solemn as he spoke, and he looked to Ginny for a moment before continuing. "And I - we think, that you're grown up enough to just get it straight."

"When you protected yourself against the Death Eater," Harry began, and Albus nodded slowly, "... when you killed her, you ripped your soul. It seems that in the moment straight after that, you must have concentrated on the thought of some very dark magic and -" he paused for a moment, took a deep breath and turned to Ginny. "You created a horcrux, within your wand." Albus wasn't surprised at this news, but it still hit him hard. It was as if the air was knocked out of him; all he could do was stare at his father. He looked to the table, where his wand was sitting and felt it - the connection.
"A piece of my soul... is in that?"
"Yes."
"What does that mean?" Harry took a deep breath, and tried to smile, to help his son's building anxiety.
"Well, as a horcrux specialist myself, I can explain everything in detail. But for now, you just need to know that your wand is a part of you, and that with it intact - you can't die for good." Albus stared at the wall across from him, a million thoughts running through his head. Just like Voldemort before him, Albus had done some to keep him on this earth; but unlike the dark lord, that is the last thing that he wanted.

"How do I stop it?" He said quickly, and Harry looked at him cautiously.
"Well, Al, you could destroy the wand - but you have to know that it is a piece of you that you can never get back. Without it, you might lose a part of yourself."

Albus felt as though he would fall apart. The thought of either losing a part of himself, or never finding his way to death - how could anyone choose?

A/N: Words - 1,989

Alchemy - "someone dealing with immortality..."