Chapter 4
Given the way the rest of my day was going, I should have expected that simply walking back into the school wasn't going to be possible. Word had leaked somehow to the press that I had been out and about, and that I was going to return. Probfably had been leaked by a student who had either overheard the discussion in the Infirmary, or who had later heard it from one of the staff.
At any rate there was a mob awaiting my return.
"Mister Evans! How did you escape? Is it true you dueled Grindelwald himself?" It seemed like hundreds of voices were jabbering for my attention, and asking questions. Not to mention the thousands of flashes that erupted with our arrival.
"Bloody hell." I whispered under my breath, flicking my wrist to launch my new wand into hand. The cannon-shot spell that had served to quiet them fifty odd years into the future during my seventh year seemed to do the trick now as well. It didn't hurt that half of them were now running away as fast as they could either, damned reporters. "I am afraid that any questions pertaining to my former position must be addressed to the Ministry of Magic. I am under strict orders to maintain my silence." I gave them all a glare, my best impression of Snape in fact, and continued. "Now, if you would excuse us, I am afraid that the Castle will be going in lockdown at any minute, and I have given my word to return the student that has served as my guide before that happens."
Minerva, thankfully, didn't say a word as I hustled her forwards before I had even stopped speaking. The Keeper of the Keys, a short, balding man I didn't recognize held the gate long enough for the pair of us to slip through, and then just it rather forcefully. The lock snicked closed behind us with but a wave of the key, which wasn't a key at all but a special rune-stone which controlled the wards in the gate.
"They been nosing around ever since ye left. Ye'd best get up tae the castle, the Headmaster he'd be wanting tae talk tae ya."
"Thank you Mister Plank." Minerva said smoothly, and I had to wonder if being a Keeper of the Keys also required you to have a rather thick accent.
I'd barely been able to follow it, and was rather glad Minerva knew who he was. That led to another startling revelation, and I couldn't keep it back as we turned back to the castle.
"Is there, well, a first or second year by the name of Rubeus Hagrid in Gryffindor House?" I could hear the trepidation in my voice when I asked. I couldn't remember what year that Hagrid was in during the current year, but I remembered that he had only a couple years of schooling when Tom had framed him for opening the Chamber of Secrets.
"Yes, there is. A first year, though he towers over all but the sixth and seventh year boys." Minerva's lips pursed in a way that I knew she found something distasteful about the whole thing. "There are those among the other houses who believe that people like Hagrid shouldn't be allowed in Hogwarts, and I should hope you are not one of them."
"As a halfblood you mean." A bit of my own feelings on the matter bled over into my voice, and Minerva took them the wrong way, not knowing me nearly as well as I did her.
"I'll have you know that Hagrid is a good boy. He is a prodigy in Care of Magical Creatures and quite gifted in transfiguration...." Minerva's rant was cut off by my finger on her lips. It was something that worked against Hermione when she worked up a fine lather, and it appeared to work as well with Minerva as well.
"I shall have you know Minnie, that Hagrid was my first friend. He was the first person to show me the magical world, and the first person to tell me the truth about my parents. I, my family owes him a debt, and I intend to see it paid." I dropped my finger, trying not to think to heavily on the other way of dissuading her that had come to mind. Minerva squeezed my arm slightly, and composed herself with a sigh.
"I am sorry Harry, but it has been an uphill battle even in Gryffindor to get my fellow housemates to see his merits as a person." Minerva offered me a shy smile as I looked up at her again, and I returned it with a bit wider one. "Having Dumbledore sponsor his attendance has caused quite the scandal."
"Then we shall just have to work on that some more." I filed away what else I was going to say for a later date, noticing that there were a pair waiting for us besides the main entrance to the castle. I inclined my head in greetings "Headmaster Dippet, Deputy Headmaster Dumbledore."
"Ah yes, our mysterious young guest." Dippet glared at me, a visage that I knew all too well from the portrait that had hung in the Headmaster's office. The painting had never liked me much, and I had never truly understood why. Strangely the look softened after a moment. "Good, very good. It is always a pleasure to see that tradition still means something to you youngsters."
"I see congratulations are in order." Dumbledore smiled in that welcoming way which was so familiar. Even though I still had my misgivings about the whole thing I smiled in reply. "I have informed the Headmaster of your intention to interview for the position of a Professorship. We both," Dumbledore glanced over at his predecessor, "have some concerns about your ability to teach the material. We understand you have a Mastery, but..."
"But some things come only with hard experience. I find it difficult to believe that you have that experience." Dippet finished off, leading the way into the castle.
I had been expecting something like this, and originally I had been planning on offering to duel Dumbledore, Flitwick, and the DADA professor all at once, but I couldn't do that now. The handfasting spell wouldn't allow me the freedom of movement necessary in a fight, not one at that level, and a more traditional one on one match was unlikely to convince them that I knew anything but standard dueling methods.
"I have had much in the way of hard experience." I snapped back, a bit of bitterness seeping into my tone. Much of that hard experience had been had here in these walls that I still considered home. The thought came to me suddenly that I didn't need to physically demonstrate my skills to show them what I was good at. I had all that tucked away in my memories, and I just needed to show them. "Would either of you possess a Pensieve?"
Albus caught on first, which wasn't surprising. "I do in fact have one. Should I take by the question that you are going to show us your abilities through the use of a memory?"
"It seems the best that I can think of, and truthfully is in my mind a better idea than fighting the other Professors, even against odds. You both will be able to see me against those that I learned to fight against, and who in turn learned to fight against me." I looked over to Minerva who seemed to be losing the fight against curiosity. She seemed halfway between lecturing me on my tone and needing to find out what what truly bothering me. "Yes Minerva, you can watch as well. It would be best if you knew what I faced, and I'd rather not have to try and tell it to you."
"I do have a question before we view your memory." Dippet stated after several minutes of walking in silence. He did not bother to wait for my agreement but forged straight ahead. "You have been through many rituals to strengthen yourself, but the main one, I barely recognize. It is Nordic in origin is it not?"
I hadn't really wanted to talk about the Drink of Mimisbrunnr, or the ritual which was associated with making it. Neville and I had undertaken the ritual, which we had found in the Longbottom Grimorie and pieced together with muggle myths, out of desperation. It had been shortly after the fall of Hogwarts, and I had been nearly mad with grief. Ron had fallen that day, like Hogwarts, to Voldemort's wand. The Dark Lord had been immensely strong that day when he had dueled the three of us Gryffindor's to a standstill. Neville and I had seen the futility of trying to continue the fight when Ron had fallen, and we had fled before Riddle's wrath.
"Yes." I said shortly, trying through my tone to avoid further questions. I had been hoping for a normal life here, and though much of what had happened today was not normal, for the first time in a long time I had thought I would reach that goal. If the full truth of my abilities came out, then I'd
"You will have to pardon my curiosity," Dippet continued, "but my position requires I know more of this ritual. I cannot have a Professor that turns to the dark for power."
I winced and inclined my head in understanding, my hand moving to finger the scar that still marred my forehead. Given the nature of many rituals he had a valid reason to be concerned. Tom Riddle had turned to the 'easy' path when he had gathered and increased his power. Everyone was a tool to him, and he used them cruelly. Sacrifices were made of Non-Magicals and Magicals alike, human sacrifices aimed at increasing his power, his strength. He branded his followers with a perverse mark of slavery, claiming a portion of their magic for his own.
No, I knew too well what a follower of the dark could do.
"I hung myself from a tree of ash for nine days and nights, pierced through my side by a spear made by my own hands. A maiden of pure heart gathered my blood and tears, but offered me no succor of drink or food while I suffered." I began hesitantly, the mere speaking of it bringing back all the pain I had felt. Minerva let out a startled gasp, and clung to my arm as I continued. I couldn't bear to meet her eyes. "That blood, those tears, the sight of my left eye, her gift of learning, feathers from Nightravens, and the sap of the ash tree combined with magic and runes to make a potion, the Drink of Mimisbrunnr. Wōđanaz is said to have created this potion, or at least that is who our reference credited."
"The Nordic Merlin as he is called." Dippet mumbled softly, and I once again inclined my head in agreement. That was the name given to him, but I rather thought that if more had been remembered of that ancient wizard, that he would be put a bit higher than Merlin. I knew the power that the ritual gave me, and though I had used others to enhance my ability further that original one was where I garnered the strength to equal Voldemort. "Then all of your rituals are of the personal sacrifice kind? Will you make the Drink widely available?"
"Yes." I answered to the first, drawing looks from all three of my current companions. I stepped through the portrait guarded door into living quarters that I recognized as those of the Head of Gryffindor, and once Minerva's before I continued. "And no, I shall not be making it available. There were two of us who attempted the ritual, and in the end only I survived. I was months in recovering from it, and truthfully I wouldn't trust the power I gained in the hands of many."
"Harry, if it has been found once, then it can surely be found again." Minerva stated, soft concern shining in her eyes. "If it is that dangerous..."
"The reference we used wasn't complete. We were forced to piece it together from clues and leaps of logic." I pursed my lips, remembering the months of trial and error just to get the other ingredients to look, perform the way they were hinted as being. "I very much doubt that there will be many who would attempt to look for it, and of those that do, only a smaller number will even begin to find what they seek."
Part of my faith that it would resurface was because there was presently no Hermione in the world that I knew of, though Minerva undoubtedly came close, and for that matter no Luna. Both had been instrumental in the recreation of the ritual, and without the unique combination of logic and intuitiveness that the pair had brought to our desperate gamble I didn't think anyone else would succeed. Even if they did, there were other paths that could be taken to neutralize the abilities granted.
"Quite so, and you need not worry Minerva. Harry here is not the only one of us present that has undergone obscure rituals." Albus said in a soft voice, his eyes twinkling madly. I had to wonder then, if that twinkle was a byproduct of some obscure ritual. "One rarely gains the connection to magic that both Armando and I have without help of some kind."
"Too true, too true. I do wish though that I had taken more of an interest in Alchemy than I did." Armando rubbed his hands over his wrists fretfully. "Perhaps then my joints would not ache as they do."
The sitting room of Dumbledore's quarters was sparsely furnished. A writing desk and chair occupied one wall by the fireplace, under a window overlooking the lake. There were a pair of well padded, wingback chairs sitting at the foot and head of a coffee table, and a very old looking wood loveseat sat to the side of the table facing the fire. I suppressed a snort of laughter when I realized that the only change Professor McGonagall had made in the years she had resided here was to take the majority of the cushioning out of the chairs.
"Have a seat Armando, Harry, Minerva, I'll be back shortly with my Pensieve." Albus walked into what had to be his bedroom though I couldn't tell for sure because of the obscuring charm that filled the doorway.
"I'll let you young things have the loveseat it is what that is for, and my bones are in need of the warming charms Albus places on his chairs." Headmaster Dippet settled in one of those chairs with a sigh.
It was strange being seated so closely to a woman that I had known my whole life previously as a Professor. Stranger than the near constant hand-holding that we had been doing since the handfasting ceremony, stranger than walking next to her. The loveseat was, well, intimate enough that our thighs and hips brushed together at every small movement, and I could feel the rigid presence of the corset that Minerva wore under layers of cloth. The warmth of her presence was vaguely comforting though, and in response to her rigid posture, no doubt mandated by her Headmaster's presence, I squeezed her hand comfortingly.
"Is our status going to pose a problem, Headmaster?" I asked, curious as to how he was going to deal with a married couple in the castle. As far as I knew during my time at Hogwarts nobody had been handfasted let alone married, and that included the Professors. Seeing the confusion etched on his face I clarified. "By the time that I had attended Hogwarts the practice of arranged marriages had become quite rare, and normally couples married in their twenties or even thirties."
"Oh, my." Dippet looked rather shocked and appalled at such a statement. His head shook vigorously, and he rubbed a hand over his bald palate. "No, not at all. Currently there are a hundred and eighty couples either handfasted, or married in the halls of Hogwarts. The majority of sixth and seventh years of course, though there are what, thirty in their fifth year, Minerva?"
"Yes, though that number will rise over the summer, and some of the current fourth years will start their fifth year after being bonded this summer." Minerva said, completing my shock.
Part of it was the sheer number of students that it hinted at. A hundred and sixty couples in sixth and seventh year would make at least three hundred and eighty students in those two years. Say a hundred and sixty a year that are bonded, and perhaps two hundred students in a year altogether. That meant that there were at least four times as many students currently attending Hogwarts as when I had attended school.
"It should not be that surprising, Harry." Minerva said, misinterpreting my shock. "The binding settles better when at least one of the pair is still maturing in their magic, as I am. There are other benefits to handfasting early and for an extensive length of time as it allows both to learn to accommodate the other."
"I see, but I was actually shocked because of the number of students." I said, my voice barely keeping from cracking with controlled emotion. How badly had Riddle hurt the Wizarding Population in Britain? I doubted he had managed to kill that many during his reign of terror, but to drive off numbers that large, it seemed unthinkable. There had to be other forces at work here.
"I know the school would have grown by the time you attended, but fourteen hundred and seventy-two students is nothing to sneeze at." Armando said proudly, and with just a bit of irritation. "Classes are twice as large as when Albus attended, and that is with the opening of four other schools and the expansion of our traditional Isle competitors."
"Indeed, the Headmaster has worked long and hard to insure that Hogwarts has remained the premier School of Magic in Great Britain." Albus said, startling me out of my ruminations. He set the pensieve on the table in front of us, and then took his own seat. "I daresay that the creation of a combat class designed to give a step up to students pursuing careers as Aurors, Hitwizards, and Cursebreakers will no doubt keep us in that spot as well."
"My class when I graduated Hogwarts, which was the most populous school in Britain at the time, consisted of forty-two students." I said, my eyes closed as I dropped the bomb that had so startled me on them. The hiss of shock from all three showed that they were just as startled by what I told them as I had been of their words.
"My word." Armando whispered seconds later, sounding like a man who had just been told the greatest love of his life had died. "Perhaps your work with Grindelwald has borne fruit more pleasant than we had thought, Albus."
"I did not think I would ever say this, but yes, perhaps it has." Albus looked old, much older than he had when we had met at the castle gates just minutes ago. "Now if we can only keep him from consuming the whole of the world."
"A discussion for another time. The evening meal draws close, so let us see your memory young man, so that I can determine if I need to introduce a new Professor at it." Armando was turning more and more into a man that I did not expect. Everything that I had known of him before coming to here said that he had been frail, and perhaps ineffective at his post. Then again when he was followed by Dumbledore who had been hailed as the next coming of Merlin by many, how could he not look weak?
I frowned, concentrating on a memory as I lifted my wand to my head. There was only one I could show them. "This fight is from roughly two years in my past, and before the rituals. It was the last large scale fight I was involved in, it broke the back of the remaining resistance to Voldemort's rule in both the Ministry and in the General Public. The fall of Hogwarts."
Minerva McGonagall had grown up steeped in magic, she had attended Hogwarts for six years and had grown used to seeing the tall strong walls that none could shatter. That time had not prepared her in any way for the visage that awaited her in Harry's memory.
Hogwarts lay in ruins.
The great walls were crumbled, the towers had collapsed, the main doors were rent asunder, but around the castle in the vast open fields there lay the evidence that though Hogwarts may have been breached, she had not gone down without a fight. There were a dozen giants that lay still, or were groaning in pain from mortal wounds before her. Hundreds of trolls and acromantula lay dead before her walls, and here and there some of the gargoyles that defended the castle still moved hunting out the horrid creatures that still lived.
For all that though, Minerva felt something in her die at the sight that Hogwarts made. If this was the future, then she was not sure she wished to see it. Figures faded into existence, appearing to be only pale ghosts of the reality. Still Minerva was more concerned with the castle then their appearance.
"Harry." The hissing voice was full of so much malice that Minerva barely believed it could be real. It was cold, hateful, and full of loathing far beyond what she had thought was possible for anyone to feel.
When she saw the man who spoke the words she realized he was not a man at all, but a thing. Tall, thin, pale of skin, with a face that resembled that of a snakes more closely then that of a man, he was the epitome of all that was vile. Red eyes peered out from beside a nose that was but two slits, and a thin lipless mouth curled into a sneer. His head was bald, and the skin appeared to be made up of scales, only adding to that illusion that he was more snake than man.
"Tom." Minerva's head snapped around to the second figure that spoke. Harry Evans, her bonded, and apparently the leader of the forces that arrayed to defend Hogwarts. He was, she realized, not much older than she was now, and several years younger in age then he currently was. For some reason Minerva had thought that this fight had been much closer to his present than it really was.
"Hogwarts has fallen ... Evans." The snake faced Tom spoke once again. Minerva caught the slight bump in the speech, the memory having obviously been edited slightly. Given the looks on her Professor and Headmaster's faces they had caught it as well.
"Evans is not his real name?" Headmaster Dippet asked, turning slightly to Dumbledore.
"I had thought it was. It is hard to say what his true family name is, but as Minerva can attest and the ring shows, he is an Evans by blood." Albus responded, stroking his beard in a way Minerva knew was habitual when he was deep in thought.
"...your last chance to bow down before me. I will give you an easy death." Tom had completed hissing out.
"Hogwarts may have fallen, but it and we are not yet defeated, Tom." Harry replied.
There seemed to be a battle of wills going on, and in the silence that fell between the groups Minerva studied those arrayed on both sides. Of Tom's she could not tell much as they were all cloaked in black and wearing bone white masks. They were all faceless, dark presences but Minerva had grown up in a world facing Grindelwald who used much the same tactics for his shock troops so seeing it here, now, without the Teutonic Eagle rising overhead was not nearly as frightening.
On the other side Minerva started when she saw none other than herself. Older, grayer, with the faint tracery of lines on her face but that was undoubtedly her in the future. She stood by a small wizened form that was just as clearly Filius Flitwick, and beside a much younger man that had to be a Weasley. It drove home then and there that Harry really was from the future, that he really had seen things happen that might happen again in her world.
A shiver raced up her spine as she thought of having Hogwarts fall in her future, seeing it not in a memory but in reality.
The shiver was all she had time for as the two groups seemingly took Minerva's chill as the sign to start the fight.
"Avada Kedavra!" A dozen voices shouted, hissed, and snarled together from Tom's side. A veritable wall of green raced towards the other group only to be met by a true wall of stone. Minerva's eyes widened as she realized she had been one of four to help in that joint transfiguration, and then her eyes widened further as the rest of that group stepped forwards.
"Bombarda!" The explosion charm was a basic one, but with over twenty voices intoning it at the same time, plus Filius Flitwick an unparalleled Charms Master, the wall stood no chance. An explosion of rock blasted outward as it served its purpose of both defense and attack. Black cloaked figures leaped aside, cowered behind hastily transfigured walls of their own, or in a very few cases raised shields to weather the hail of stone.
"Confrigo, Bombarda, Impedimentia!" The quick trio of spells ripped off of Harry's wand. Minerva found herself drifting closer to the fight as the rest became much more hazy. Though that was unusual in a Pensieve Memory, it was not unheard of when the person whose memory was used was unnaturally focused. The spells that flowed from Harry's wand showed that focus being sharp small bursts of light rather than large irregular blobs, and the trio blasted Tom away from his followers.
Harry and two others his own age, one Minerva thought might be a Longbottom and another that had to be a Weasley, hurriedly moved to force Tom away from his supporters. Minerva quietly chewed her lip watching, wanting to help out but unable to.
The fight quickly escalated to a level that Minerva found herself unable to follow what spells were actually exchanged, and it didn't help her any that many of the spells were done silently, some even wandlessly. She had thought that with the odds being three on one the 'Dark Lord' would have been put on the defensive, but that was not so. It seemed, if anything, that he was still fighting from a slightly superior position.
Minerva could tell that the trio of boys had a plan, for they continued to push Tom further and further away from his supporters, shoving him deep into the remains of Hogwarts where the broken bones of the castle itself helped their defense, and hindered his offense. That started to turn the tide in the other direction.
They had Tom surrounded, and cursed him from behind the giant stone blocks of Hogwarts' walls, which were still full of residual magic all but impervious to spells.
"Damn you ...Evans!" There was the small stutter as the memory had been edited once again.
"They are doing well so far, especially against one so versed in the Dark Arts." Albus commented softly to Armando, the fight temporarily at an impasse as Tom had cast some sort of dome shield that Minerva did not recognize.
"Indeed, however we haven't really seen anything too impressive yet either. I had hoped..." Armando Dippet trailed off as suddenly five of the masked and cloaked followers landed in front of their leader. That was another bit of magic Minerva did not recognize, it had to be a variant of a portkey, but it had looked like they had been pulled to Tom.
"To see how Harry deals with multiple opponents? I believe we are going to see that now." Albus said in a distracted voice.
Minerva took a half step forward as the dome shield dropped coinciding with a massive offensive by Tom and his masked followers. Crucio was the spell of choice this time, but all three boys managed to avoid it. Minerva found herself restrained by Albus' hand on her shoulder.
"Easy Miss McGonagall, there is nothing you can do. We know Harry survives this, and what wounds he may have taken have already long since healed." Albus said softly into her ear. There was no time for her reply though.
The battle had taken another step forwards, and though the trio had proven to be all but outmatched by Voldemort earlier, the same could not be said for now. Fighting three against six, they were proving to be well trained, and able to press the advantages that they still held in the uneven fight. The Longbottom, whom Minerva was sure of his lineage now, had moved so that his curses were firing through the tight group in the center. He wasn't targeting any single person in the group, but was using area effect spells in order to hammer them all at once. The Weasley had taken to shooting out pinpoint accurate spells from the side, and transfiguring various debris into traps, animals, and animated weapons to attack their foes.
Harry, well Harry had done something that had Minerva's heart hammering in her throat. He had stepped out directly in view, and was using a technique that had made Filius famous on the dueling circuit.
Harry dodged and leaped, ducked and twirled out the way of curse after curse. The Unforgivables he dodged and the rest, the rest he parried with sweeping motions back at those he fought against. This was a man who was at home in combat, who had the preternatural reactions that would make him an instinctive seeker, and someone who could let his body move without engaging his mind.
Still there was something bothering Minerva about the fight, Tom wasn't fighting nearly as well as he had been. "Why..."
"The drain of the dueling charm, and it was compounded by his summoning of his supporters." Dippet replied, sounding slightly awed. "You can feel the wards, even here in the memory if you know what you are looking for, and they are still mostly up. That perverted portkey exhausted him, and now he has to recover."
"Merlin's beard..." Albus murmured after Harry did what was considered impossible. His wand had hooked out and parried a Killing Curse. The shot of green flicked back and struck one of the masked figures, dropping them instantly.
There was a jumble of curses as the others in that group suddenly, and reflexively looked over their shoulders. They had been the only ones to use the Unforgivables so far, but the sudden death of one of their own to the burst of green unsettled them.
It was enough for the smaller group to turn the tide once again. The momentary lapse of concentration proved deadly to another pair, a blasting hex took one, and a transfigured stone lion ignored a Killing Curse to crunch happily into the other.
Minerva mentally reminded herself to keep that in mind.
It looked for one moment as if the three were going to triumph. They had halved the numbers against them, had their enemies reeling with shock, but the fact that they had been pushing themselves too hard too long found that moment to make itself clear. Harry stumbled, sweat beading off his brow and his robes were soaked with it.
"Crucio!" The curse slammed right into Harry as he was trying to rise back to his feet. Tom held it while cackling with glee.
"Harry..." Minerva mumbled, watching her to be fiance writhing under the pain curse. Her hands hurt from where her nails were digging into her palms, and she barely kept herself from trying to help him again. It tore at her fiercely to see him like this, she wanted to help, where was she?
Minerva looked up and around trying to find herself, but the area was fogged badly, and only those in the immediate area visible.
"Harry!" The Weasley called out, and with a crack he was at his friend's side.
"That cost him..." Armando murmured as the redhead went on the offensive, breaking Tom's concentration, and thus lifting the curse.
"Ron, no!" Harry cried out, struggling to rise, but falling again as his trembling limbs failed to support him. Minerva watched, tears filling her eyes as the dark haired young man crawled forwards, even as Tom raised his wand once again.
"Avada Kedavra!" Tom snarled, and Minerva bit her tongue in attempt not to call out.
Ron, the now named redhead, tried to intercept the curse with a stone wall, but his enemy was too close and he was far too tired. Stone rose, but too slowly to intercept the green jet of light.
The memory faded as Harry's cries for his comrade tore through it.
