CHAPTER SEVEN
Harry the wolf sped through the forest and Dumbledore followed, hot on his trails. But Dumbledore was an old man by now and he did not possess his youth anymore. So he did what he did best: he used magic. Dumbledore pulled out his wand from the sash at his waist and waved it in the air, thinking of the right spell to catch the elusive newly formed werewolf. "Insipario," he said and winced as his body started changing slightly. His muscles tightened, the little pot belly at his waist disappeared because he was using his body fat for energy. This was his own invention; one that he had kept from Tom out of a certain sense of jealousy. They were both geniuses and Dumbledore always felt he had to compete with Tom's almost daily discoveries and achievements. Pride would be his downfall, Dumbledore thought from the corners of his mind as his body became tighter and taller like a stick figure. He grew as big as a tree, and as skinny as a penny. A wind might blow him away but luckily there was no wind in the air right now.
Then he leapt from tree to tree, cutting the land away. He saw in the far horizon a silver figure leaping away and he smiled. He was catching up. He leapt higher into the air, looking like he was on the level with the silver moon that had caused this.
Suddenly he got an idea, a very very crazy idea but why not? It might work. Did he have enough magical energy for that though? What if he exhausted himself to the brink of death?
Still he had to try this, this might be his greatest achievement. Why didn't he think of this before? Now… now he had an idea, a very weird idea but the potential for it was astounding. This could cure werewolf disease forever. He chuckled to himself as he dissapitated the spell and fell slowly to the ground. He changed into his regular form and started pacing, knowing he didn't have much time. But what kind of spell was he to use?
What spell was strong enough to blow the moon up?
He knew what to do. He could layer the spell reducto until it became a hundred – no a thousand times more powerful than ever before. This would be an unbelievable beam of light that would go off worse than the nuclear bomb that recently exploded somewhere in Japan.
He grinned to himself; he just had to do it. He pointed his wand at the moon, crouched down and started whispering under his breath while rotating his wand very carefully in a tight highly controlled circle. "Reducto… reducto… reducto…" he did this for at least two minutes until a ball of red light grew at the tip of his wand. It vibrated and threatened to explode in Dumbledore's face. He kept up with layering the spell until he felt his arm vibrate and shake from sheer exhaustion. His face was sweaty and his finger tips exploded as he let the ball of destruction lose in the general direction of the moon.
Then he was thrown back into soft green moss and he caught a perfect view of the ball of destruction moving like a red comet across the night sky. It reached the moon in seconds, going at the speed of light and all, and boom, the moon exploded in a shower of red sparks that lit up the sky. Wave after wave of red energy sped across the globe. The tides of the ocean started going haywire, floods and storms erupted throughout Earth. It was a natural disaster and muggle scientists – and even wizard researchers from the department of mysteries – would label this as a natural disaster, "A comet of the size of the moon crashed into our moon, destroying it." Dumbledore could picture it now. With a smile of relief he closed his eyes and gave in to his exhaustion. There was one last painful howl as Harry's transformation reversed itself. With no moon, how could Harry transform?
Harry lay on the ground right there for an hour or so, panting hard, eyes open and strained to its breaking point, body exhausted, cuts all over his arms, legs and stomach that must have come from the screwed up transformation. Still, he felt the chant go through his mind, his vision was a haze as he saw images that he knew couldn't exist: floating jelly beings going through the sky, giant red purple snakes in ethereal ghostlike form going through the forest and…
Now he saw something that he knew with certainity was real. A white masked giant demon approaching him, two swords held out in a giant V that faced Harry and a man followed behind the demon, looking nervous, red eyes flickering left and right. At first he thought it was Voldemort but it couldn't be because Voldemort had pale white skin, and snake like slits. This man though was nicely tanned and looked German or Italian, Harry couldn't tell. Then he spoke, "Hurry up, kill the boy," his voice a mere whisper.
"Its not easy, he has no soul."
"What? How is this possible?"
"A time traveler I would think," said the demon. "He probably crossed universes, but I thought this art was a secret of my race… interesting…"
"So maybe he can be useful to us? I would like to try journeying across universes-"
The demon glared at the small man, "And lose your soul?"
"You don't have one either though so it can't be that bad…"
"I was once a human just like you. I am a half demon, you know. But still the gateway is restricted to me because I don't have a soul."
"Gateway?"
"To God," the demon said. "Only those with souls can go through and meet with the highest being in the universes."
"I see…" the man said, but he still looked tempted to Harry.
"Dumbledore… he's powerful, why don't you kill him?"
"No, out of the question," the small man said. "Why should I bother? He is not doing anything to fight me, except maybe helping refugees from my attacks. I don't care about that though."
"It won't be long before he starts fighting you," the demon said.
Harry didn't know who these people were but he was for once scared. Here he was, helpless, he couldn't even move one of his fingers, how could he fight these two who wanted to kill him?
"I know that," the small man said. "I'll deal with it when it comes, alright?"
"Whatever you say," the demon said.
"Now why don't you kill him already?"
"I don't think I can do it," the demon said.
"And why the hell not?"
"I told you already, he has no soul, so if I kill him all that will happen is he will come alive again… in another universe."
"In another universe?"
"Precisely."
"So if I kill him right here, he won't be in this world anymore right?"
"Yes."
"So…" The small man stepped forward, grinning evilly. "I can kill him." Then he stopped. "How many universes are there?"
The demon shrugged. "Infinity number, I suppose."
"I see," Grindelwauld said and raised his wand, tip pointing toward Harry. "Goodbye my boy, Avada-" He stopped and looked carefully at the demon. "We need to leave, Dumbledore's coming." Then he waved his wand around and said "Apparrato." The two figures disappeared into the air.
Harry slowly felt feeling and energy regaining in his body, enough to crane his neck and look up at the approaching figure. Albus Dumbledore looked more exhausted then ever, wrinkles pronounced over his bushy beard and blue eyes. Dead eyes, no twinkling. "My boy, are you alright?" He said, voice sounding hoarse like he couldn't breathe.
Harry blinked. Was he alright? Could he get up? He could try. He tried to get up, pushing off with bruised arms and with a deep groan he rose to his feet. "I'm fine," he croaked out, too tired to say anything about Grindelwauld and the demon. At least not yet. He had some major thinking to do first. "Let's go back."
"Yes, lets," Dumbledore said, put an arm over Harry's shoulder and together they stumbled back to the trail, this time with no moon to light their path. But the brilliant white stars over head gave off more than enough light. They walked arm in arm, silent and brooding, not knowing what would happen in the future. They walked for some time until they reached half the way to Hogwarts where they met Dippet, two other teachers that Harry didn't know about, Tom Riddle, the head boy and the three students Jim, Attilio, and Alice. "Harry! You're okay!"
Harry nodded wordlessly, feeling his eyes drooping, all he wanted was some sleep.
"Come on, now," Dippet said uncomfortably as Alice hugged Harry, "Lets get you all in bed. A werewolf attack, Albus, I must say we have to do something about this lest we too be destroyed by Grindelwauld."
Albus nodded, "Precisely my thoughts."
"Shall we get the aurors?" Dippet said. They walked side by side, a little behind the three students. "Hagrid's dead. We found his body."
"I think… yes… let's get the aurors here."
"What are you going to do?"
"Hagrid… he was my friend," Dumbledore said. "I will go hunting."
"Grindelwauld?"
"Who else?" Dumbledore said.
Dippet flashed a vicious grin. "Wonderful!"
"I'm not doing this for revenge – I don't wish to avenge your family, or my friends either. I do this for the future victims," Dumbledore said grimly.
"Whatever you say," Dippet said. "Whatever you say, my friend Albus Dumbledore."
"I'll leave tomorrow morning."
"You are going to take your grandson?"
"Yes," Dumbledore said.
"What happened?"
"The werewolf bit him, and he changed."
"And where the hell is the moon?" Dippet said but he knew the answer. He had seen the red showers in the sky.
"Destroyed."
Dippet's eyes widened in amazement… "The power you have, Dumbledore, is extraordinary."
"I wish I didn't have it."
"But you are the only one who can destroy Grindelwauld. You know it, I know it, hell even your grandson must know it."
"Yes… he does."
"So tomorrow morning, huh?"
"I'll need funds."
"I'll give it," Dippet promised. "The entire Hogwarts savings is at your command, Albus."
"The ministry won't like it."
"To hell with the ministry," Dippet said. "You'll take my place after I retire, right?"
"Maybe."
"I hope so – then you can deal with this funding problems yourself."
"Of course."
"Now what?"
"I'll get a good night's sleep. I'll leave at dawn."
"Good luck Albus," Dippet said as he followed the two teachers and three students into Hogwarts' great doors.
"I'll need it," Dumbledore said. His eyes were fixed on an unseen point ahead, not looking at anything in particular but thinking, and making plans.
"You sure will," Dippet said. "I hope you return – successfully."
"I will be successful, I promise you that. But I might not return."
"Why not?"
"I might be dead."
Dippet's eyebrows rose. "Oh hell no, you are doing a suicide attack?"
"It's the only way I know to defeat a wizard as powerful as Grindelwauld."
"That will destroy half the world! Two men of your power blowing up…" Dippet gasped. "You can't do this!"
"That's why I always hesitated. But I have to, I think it's the only way."
"A suicide attack… there must be another way."
"I don't know any other way," Dumbledore said. "Good night, Dippet," he said and went in the opposite direction to his own quarters, knowing that Mr. Harry Potter would be sent to the hospital wing.
He had a plan alright, and it was suicidal… but he wasn't the one who would blow himself up.
He saw this as fate – Harry Potter would sacrifice himself to defeat Grindelwauld.
It was the only way. If he did this the damage would be too great but Harry was just Harry, he was of average magical strength. Dumbledore sensed this with his magical intuition and he knew that while Harry was average he also had a strong will. And he was good. He would do it.
---
Dumbledore's quarters: darkly lit, the only light coming from giant windows that overlooked the lake, lots of statues of famous beasts on the side walls, a giant red bed, very comfortable, two desks and chairs each suiting a different purpose – one was for his magical studies, one for his muggle studies, two shelves beside each desk, a very large washroom through a side door, and hardwood floors.
Dumbledore packed his bags at six that morning, just one bag that he filled with all the essentials: two pairs of work jeans, a pair of boots, two shirts, and a few extra wands he had acquired over the years. Then he went out of his bedroom and into the hallway, examined the paintings and the armors standing at the ends of the walls with a critical eye. As he walked to the medical ward he tried to remember Hogwarts because he doubted he would see it again – so many things could go wrong with his plan, so many ways things could just go squash. No, it was best if he gave up all hope.
He entered the medical wing, smelled the medicine smell that he always hated and looked around. Medical ward: fourteen beds lined up symmetrically, neatly pressed bedsheets folded on the bedspread, fluffed pillows, all done by magic, floor tiles waxed clean, windows at the side overlooking the Quidditch pitch.. In one of the far beds lay Harry Potter, sleeping like an angel.
Dumbledore walked over to him and placed his garnled old hand on Harry's hot forehead. The boy's eyes instantly shot open, revealing emerald green eyes that looked bright and suspicious. "Albus?" Harry said, getting up. "What do you want? What happened last night? What-"
"Hush child." Albus said and fished through his pockets. He wore a cassock which was a kind of purple robe and had big pockets. Fishing through them, he pulled out an extra wand – yew wood, dragon heartstring, fourteen inches, good for transfiguration. "Here you go, a wand." He said and tossed the wand in Harry's outstretched hands.
"Err… thanks," Harry said and waved the wand, golden sparks shot out. "This seems nice enough to work."
"It will do," Dumbledore said. "Get up and follow me."
Harry shot to his feet, "Where are we going?" He asked.
"Hunting." Dumbledore replied and would say no more to Harry's frequent questioning. When they were outside, he breathed in deep and looked around: bushes and vegetation everywhere, dragon grass growing wildly on the grounds, and the air smelt of salty water, like the beach… or the lake. It was perfect morning air, too bad Dumbledore couldn't enjoy it.
He reached in his pocket and pulled out a small brightly colored sock. "Grab this," he said. Harry grabbed it, Dumbledore said, "Portus," and they were off.
Harry didn't know what was going on but he had fallen into his old –and bad- habits of trusting Dumbledore. He hated portkeys, they reminded him of his fourth year. So with a bit of surprise he landed on all fours and got a good view of the apartment they were in: perfectly empty except for a window that overlooked the street outside. Harry got up. "What are we doing here?"
"Growth potion," Dumbledore said and put his backpack on the floor. It was black and looked like a normal school backpack that the students carried. Inside was potion ingredients and a shrunken cauldron.
Together, with Harry helping they brewed the growth potion, let it simmer in the cauldron for a few hours during which Dumbledore rolled a cigar and filled it from his tobacco pouch. He smoked in silence, one cigar after another, obviously deep in thought. Harry soon learnt that whatever questions he asked about what they were doing here, why they were here, etc. etc. was ignored so he too stayed in silence and he rested, sitting cross legged Indian style next to a white painted wall, closed his eyes, meditated.
He thought about last night, his memories and thoughts were all jumbled up and confusing so he proceeded to get them in order like a pensieve in his head he had. He examined each memory thoroughly and finally pieced together what he thought happened last night:
Full moon, it is night outside and they are walking through the forest. Who is walking with them? Alice… Jim… Atillio… Dumbledore… A younger Hagrid in front. Harry talks, full moon, howls in the forest somewhere far off. Dumbledore is a bit tense as if expecting something – perhaps he has a bad feeling about this night. Hagrid is cheerful, whistling to himself up ahead, cross bow shouldered on his arm.
A silver light from the trail up ahead. Harry doesn't notice it, or ignores it, doesn't know why. He talks to Alice about the Helix potion she made and doesn't notice the wolf until it is almost too late.
With a howl the wolf leaps to Hagrid's throat, bites, scratches, tumbles around in the ground. Hagrid croaks, blood spurts out, he punches the wolf in the gut, the wolf doesn't feel it, bites Hagrid's face, arms, scratches and fights. Then he lets go and leaps toward Harry. Hagrid is dead, lying there, beady black eyes open and dead staring at nothing and everything at the same time.
The wolf leaps on all fours toward them. It is in the air, blocking the full moon, eyes red, snarling, drool from its fangs and mouth, black round nose wet and slobbery. Harry thinks on instinct, conjures brass shield, protects Alice and him from the wolf. Wolf tries to get at them, claws the shield, whines and howls. Dumbledore leaps into the battle, shooting a spell or two but his eyes are not on the wolf. They are looking around, darting back and forth as if looking for something. But what?
The wolf gets up, leaps over their shield toward Atillio and Jim. Atillio casts a spell, bright white light, wolf is on the ground, panting hard, but lots of energy bursting to get out.
Then it leaps again at Atillio, changes direction mid air almost like its flying, like a puppet on strings. Dumbledore turns his head to look at the wolf, eyes wide, blue eyes with no twinkle. Wolf attacks Harry. Wolf is coming right at him, so Harry punches it, thinking it will go far, thinking he is back in his own body which was strong, lean and muscular. But wolf anticipates punch and jaws open wide. Chomp! It bites down on the hand. There is pain, there is blood spurting out, vertigo, a feeling of the whole forest spinning around him… dizziness… blood… and then unconsciousness, no vision whatsoever. Everything is black but there is a voice that chants: Kill kill kill! And then he opens his eyes and sees a white masked demon, eight feet tall and as big as an oak tree, looking at him with no eyes but Harry can still feel his gaze. He has a sword, no two swords and wants to strike Harry but can't for some reason – "No soul, you have no soul boy, no soul!" the voice fades but Harry can still here its echo: "No soul… no soul… no soul…" Then there is a smaller man, wants to kill but is scared for some reason, and is that envy? That's envy. He is envious but why?
You cannot die… immortal… no soul. That echo, where is it coming from? Where is-
"Harry wake up! Wake up Harry!" Dumbledore shook Harry's shoulder, trying to wake the boy or man up from the nightmare he was having.
Harry's eyes shot open, "What happened?" He said at once. "Where is my hand?"
He looked at his right hand and sees it is normal, looks normal anyway. "What happened to my hand? Was last night only a dream?"
"No it wasn't," Dumbledore said, stopped shaking him on the shoulder and sat back down. "Last night was real. The potion is done." He pulls out tongs from his black bag, and inserts them into the steaming broiling liquid, pulls out a test tube filled with black thick liquid that looks like ink. "Here," Dumbledore said and put a cooling charm on it. "Drink up."
"What happened to my hand?" Harry asked again.
"Madame Rosmerta fixed it, you should be thankful we had the potions necessary to do it."
"What?"
"Drink the potion, Harry," Dumbledore said tiredly.
Harry glanced at the potion, noticed its boiling and bubbling, and quickly glanced away. He didn't want it. "I.. err…"
"Its not poison, come on for godsakes, drink up!"
"Okay fine," Harry said and grabbed the potion. He clenched his nose shut with his right hand that was as good as new and apparently fixed, and gulped the whole thing down. Chug chug chug, it tasted horrible.
He felt his body changing, his stomach gave a lurch like he was about to vomit and then all he felt was intense pain and black spots in his vision. Dumbledore looked down at him, concern etched on his face. He pushed the old man away and stumbled, falling down almost but he used the walls as support. He entered the bathroom: porcelain tiles, bright, clean, smelled like antiseptic, toilet bowl yellow because somebody forgot to flush, dirt stains on the white tub, no hanger sheet over the metal bar on top of the edge of the tub. Harry vomited in the basin, black spots cleared almost at once. He looked in the mirror, his face a little bluish white, some strands of hair grey, thick streaks of grey actually but otherwise he looked normal.
The potion hadn't worked. Why? Harry wondered.
Dumbledore came up behind him, tired and concerned at the same time. "What's wrong Harry?"
"The potion won't work," Harry said and felt sure of it. "No growth potion will work, Dumbledore. I can't change who I am."
"Why not?"
Harry glanced at Dumbledore sharply. "It wasn't because of Madame Whatchamacallit's potions that my hand grew back was it?"
Dumbledore had the decency to look a bit ashamed. "I guessed it was, I didn't know for sure."
"I know for sure, I don't remember drinking any potions. Look, I'll show you."
He grabbed his wand from his waist belt, and muttered, "Severo!" a severing charm of the highest caliber cut through Harry's left pinky finger and severed it. Harry didn't even flinch from the pain, already well used to it. Blood spurted out.
"Good god, Harry, stop this at once." Dumbledore commanded but Harry ignored it.
"Flamero," Harry said and roasted the stub of the finger so the skin became hard like a band aid and no blood would leak.
"Wait, give it an hour or so and it will grow back. I think I know why this is happening."
"Harry…" Dumbledore muttered in awe. "Your streaks of grey in your hair, they are turning black again!"
"See, I told you. I can't change my form. You know what this means, right?"
"You are…"
"Immortal," Harry said flatly. "I can't be destroyed, only recreated. Do you know why?"
Dumbledore shook his head.
Harry smiled. "I have no soul."
Dumbledore flinched. "That's horrible."
"Yes it is, but think of it!" Grinning, Harry clenched his left hand into a fist and punched the wall. It hurt but he hardly noticed it. "I am invincible!"
"No, you are not. You can still feel pain, and, and," Dumbledore could barely go on. His next words were a whisper. "You cannot go on the next great adventure."
"But I can!" Harry said, eyes shimmering, glittering almost. "I don't know how I know this, but I do, if I get killed I will just appear again but in other universes. There are an infinity number of universes. I am indestructible!"
"You-you're a monster," Dumbledore blurted out before he could stop himself.
Harry's eyes grow cold. "I don't like this universe much. Let's go kill this Grindelwauld. Then I'm going to find my parents."
Dumbledore could say nothing.
